September 26, 2012

793. The Rough Exchange


Rhox Vegha pulled the massive cargo speeder truck up to the darkened warehouse storage facility and waited for the receiving doors to open after punching in the security code. Slowly, the massive doors groaned open and she pulled the vehicle into the opening. She had the brief sensation of what a Torrolian sardine must feel like when it's being swallowed by a kruk whale as she passed through the doors which were large enough to admit even a large space freighter.

Inside the warehouse itself her an even more insignificant feeling as the ceiling was about 500 meters above her... and this was just the ground floor. The height of the building itself didn't surprise her as many of the buildings on Nar Shaddaa were just as tall, if not taller. The difference was that most of the other buildings weren't designed to have cargo ships pull inside and unload their freight.

All over were individual storage units, some with regular sized doors, others with doors large enough to pull a speeder inside, but she maneuvered her vehicle on past them all, pulling up to and onto a large elevator platform which, after yellow warning beacons began flashing, started to rise into the air, taking them up to the third floor.

Despite it being after hours, there she noticed there was actually people loading or unloading plasteel crates or duroplast bins from individual storage lockers, but on the entire first floor, she estimated there weren't more than four, beings. Probably quite busy for this time of day, but not abnormal given the size of the facility.

When the elevator finally stopped moving, she noticed the third floor was much more normal sized, and while you couldn't fly a ship down the corridors, her large cargo speeder still maneuvered easily. She counted the numbers on the doors, stopping at eleven thirty-eight.

Rhox hopped out and ran around to the back doors of the vehicle and, after a quick look around, opened them.

A man jumped down to the ground and Rhox barely scrambled out of his way. "Watch where you're going, Sith Lord," she said sarcastically to Trychon, clearly annoyed as she reached her hand up to help Dianna Kingsdoom down.

Trychon ignored her and walked over to the doors on the storage unit, punched in a code, then held his hand up to door for a minute.

Dianna watched Trychon for a moment, then turned to Raezyr, who had jumped out and stepped up beside her. "I don't know why you would risk us being seen like this. Why not just let Rhox open the door?"

"See him holding his hand there?" Raezyr noted. "That's not just for fun. There's a mechanism on the other side that can only be deactivated manually. Which means unless a Force user, who knows the device is there, deactivates it before the door is opened, we'd have all been blown to pieces," he explained. "Besides, there's really no danger of being seen. We own the building and none of the storage units on this level are rented out."

Rhox opened her mouth to comment, but before she could, the storage unit doors began to creak open. Dianna was glad for it too, as she was sure there was some sort of wise crack about to leak from her friend's mouth.

Trychon hit the light switch and the glow rods flickered on, revealing what appeared to be a fairly comfortable living space, combined with some sort of technical center, one wall being lined with computers, the other lined with racks of all manner of weaponry. Scattered about were tables and couches and along the back was a kitchen area with a door placed awkwardly in the middle.

"Where's that door lead?" Rhox asked, unloading some gear from the truck.

"Bunks. Refresher," Trychon called over his shoulder as he began flicking switches, powering up the electronics. He paused, turned to the two ladies and grinned. "Welcome to our Nar Shaddaa base of operations."

September 12, 2012

792. The Rough Exchange

The shuddering of the small cargo ship brought Raezyr out of his reverie. "What's the problem?" he asked Dianna, trying to look past her to see the ship's readout screen.

"Looks like a hyper stabilizer has broken loose. Can you see if you can go lock it down?" she replied, trying not to sound like it was a big deal, when in fact it was a pretty big deal. If the stabilizer wasn't fixed it could draw them off course while still in hyperspace and who knows where they'd come out. Worst case scenario, it would break completely and drop them out of hyperspace in interstellar space, requiring weeks or even months to get to the nearest system, which may or may not even be inhabited.

Trychon appeared as if he were annoyed by the vibrations, his nose still in his tome, and Rhox looked as if she might try to follow, but Raezyr didn't wait. He shot down the cramped corridor as quickly as he could, nearly smacking his head on two or three bulkheads as he ducked through hatchways.

Finally he entered the cramped engine compartment and flung open the hatch which held the hyperdrive. Immediately he spotted the problem. A box of tools which Daxter had been told to load for them, had apparently been set on top of the hyperdrive engine itself and had some how vibrated off, dumping the tools everywhere and dislodging the hyperstabilizer in the process. Wordlessly cursing the accident prone rodent they had picked up on Tatooine, the Sith carefully dislodged the hydrospanner and reconnected the hyper stabilizer.

He stepped over to the com panel on the wall and hit the switch which buzzed the cockpit. "Did that do it?"
Rhox Vegha's voice, distorted by the ancient comm system, answered him. "Yeah. We're fine now."

He glared at the box on the wall, wondering if a comment about Rhox's lack of appreciation was in order, but decided it wasn't worth it, instead turning his irritation at the tools spread all over the engine compartment deck, then marched over to the starboard side cargo hold and opened the hatch. Inside, staring at a data pad was Raezyr and Trychon's black armored apprentice, Invictus. The only signs of acknowledgement were the data pad lowering slightly and the helmed head raising, turning it's black glassed face screen toward the Sith Lord.

"Daxter made a mess in the engine compartment. I want you to clean it up," Raezyr instructed.

The helmet of the figure inside the omnipresent armor nodded in reluctant acquiescence to his master, then moved past the Sith Lord and down the corridor toward his new task. Raezyr watched him go for a moment. Once, the apprentice had held great promise but had become too hungry for power, attempting to wrest that power from his two masters as all Sith apprentices are expected to do.

The problem was that his attempt had failed, and his failure had left him scarred and broken. Raezyr had been ready to finish him, a fitting punishment his own weakness and failure, but Trychon stayed his brothers hand. The elder brother was loathe to toss away useful tools, and while they both recognized that Invictus would never become the heir to their power they had once hoped for, Trychon had seen that their apprentice might still be useful in carrying out their bidding.

Raezyr hoped he was right, because so far Invictus hadn't done much except cost them a lot of credits for in customized cybernetic limbs and physical rehabilitation.