Hangar Bay X-1 Regent’s Redoubt, Mattock Station
The Regent of the Brotherhood and Korvis Manda'Vod stood outside The Exchange’s midnight matte-black Cosinga-class Heavy Corvette. The flagship of The Exchange was nestled neatly - albeit tightly - inside the Regent’s private hangar bay, located within the section of Mattock Station he had claimed for his own use. The Eternal herself had recently undergone a nice retrofit, fitting the luxurious yacht-corvette with even more luxurious quarters, and experimental point defense lasers to keep her safe.
The boarding ramp remained open, with the two Mandalorians standing arms crossed at the bottom while they awaited the arrival of their other two compatriots, Thran and Teebu. Bes'uliik had planned for them a little “get-away” from the Brotherhood for the time being, somewhat in an attempt to allow the group of Regent Staff to better get to know one each other and blow off some steam.
But there was already a problem. The two Proconsuls were tardy by over an hour, pushing back the group’s departure. Whether it was clan business, or just slacking off and getting over a bad hangover - as was probably the case with Thran, given the Dathomirian-Mandalorian’s adventure with his Praetor during the Canto Bight Accords - it was slowing them down.
“Honestly, how hard is it to be on time?” Zxyl snapped his helmeted head over towards Korvis, who also was fully garbed in his beskar. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but so far the two men had shown up ready for any encounter they could possibly face. It was part of their religion, however, and things were likely to simmer down once the group was on their way.
Bes'uliik began to tap his foot.
Thran strolls over, sunglasses tipped down onto the end of his nose. He talked into personal comlink with an unknown associate. “No, Fido. I told you Sixteen and a half percent. Listen, just get back on the horn with them and work it out. At this point, I’m basically doing this for free. So, go do your job and ink the deal!” He shut off the device and put it into his pocket. He looked up to the two awaiting Mandalorians, catching just the end of Zxyl’s commentary. “A Sith is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to…” Thran said.
Teebu had his arms crossed and looked up at the Regent as he stood beside him. He was wearing his armor as well, which given the antics that usually follow when Thran and Korvis are together, it seemed like a wise decision. “I’ve been right here for a while now, Regent. And with Thran’s arrival, it seems that everyone is now present.”
“Holy shit! That thing talks! Did you all hear that?” Thran exclaimed.
Teebu quietly stared at the Proconsul of his most disliked individual within the brotherhood, but said nothing. Given they were a part of the Regent’s team, that aspect came first and foremost in terms of professionalism. He would not even give a glimmer of thought to his disdain and dislike of Scholae Palatinae while present here. Here, they were brothers.
“No, you haven’t. H.A.L. is tapped into Mattock and has kept me apprised of your movements. Nice armor.”
Zxyl turned his head over to Thran, and smirked beneath his helmet.
“Unfortunately.”
The Mandalorian Regent turned his back to the group and proceeded up the boarding ramp, entering the belly of The Exchange’s flagship. As each of the two and a half men did the same, they were greeted to an exquisite and extravagant interior befitting dignitaries of the Brotherhood’s galactic-spanning venture. The Dathomirian began by giving them each a tour.
“You each have a set of designated quarters you can use for the trip. It’ll have everything you need, including a refresher, secure locker, and encrypted mobile terminal that you can continue to conduct your clan business on. We’ve got a small simulation training room, a board room, my office and quarters, a fully loaded forge befitting the best craftsman, and of course a bar-lounge area and the bridge. I’ve procured a few artificial crew for the trip, let’s try to make sure they come back in one piece so we can still sell them.”
Zxyl ended the tour, during which he made it a point to not enter the passcode for his own quarters, in the ship’s bar-lounge.
“So.. lets begin. There’s no need for… Well, all of this,” he said as he motioned to everyone’s gear, “So let’s freshen up, meet back here for drinks within the hour, and I’ll establish where it is we’re off to. Break!”
The Dathomirian left the three to their own shenanigans for the moment as he went back to his quarters to “dress down” to his regular attire.
“Nice ship. Could use more gold, though. Which way to the hot tub?” Thran asked
diff
- DM:
As the group is now firmly on the Eternal, the ship begins its launch sequence; the boarding ramp lifts - sealing the four Regent Staffers inside - and a dull albeit quiet hum starts from the rear of the vessel as the droid crew on the bridge finish final launch preparations, secure clearance from Mattock Control, etc.
“No hot tub,” called back the Regent as he left the area for his room.
“No hot tub? What is this…Tartarus? You’ll never take me alive, Gamorreans!” Thran draws his RK-3 pistol then immediately holsters it “ahhh, just fuckin’ with ya.”
diff
- DM:
For the record, Tartarus (the space station) isn't built yet. So far only Zxyl and Thane know of its existence. It's a work in progress. So we'll just say Thran is talking about another space station or gloomy prison hell.
diff
- DM:
Because this just so happens to be the ACE flagship, clearance takes no time and the ship is out of Hangar X-1 before you know it. The four men are trapped together on the Eternal with B1 Pilot Droids for an undisclosed amount of time.
Thran looks at his bag. “It ain’t gonna move itself. Korvis…be a doll and put it in my room for me?”
Teebu went to his quarters as well and with relative ease, slipped out of his armor. Underneath each piece, was another white garment of clothing…his uniform. By the time the armor was off, he was still in his typical official attire. With a slight flick of his wrist, a small ball of fur that was on his left sleeve was knocked off onto the floor and he proceeded back towards the bar-lounge area to see what kind of drinks the Regent keeps supplied. If he was lucky, there might even be some Whyren’s Reserve. If he didn’t have that ultra rare drink however, he could always settle for some Gammorean Ale.
Looking down at the bag lying on the floor Korvis nudged it with his boot. It at least didn’t move back. Though he still wasn’t taking his chances and just turned away and headed to his quarters. “Sorry, but I don’t know where that bag has been or what intergalactic laws I would be complicate in breaking by moving it.”
“This is bullllllssssssshhhhiiiiiiiiit.” Thran says, picking up his bags and wandering around to find his room.
Zxyl returned to the bar-lounge a short while after he had departed, the first to arrive. Opening the clear bar cabinet against one wall, he dug around through a few bottles until he found what he had been searching for; an obsidian-crystal decanter filled with a rich amber liquid. Pulling it - and a glass - out, he poured himself a hefty drink and sat back in one of the fine leather lounge furniture pieces, awaiting the others.
Gone was his hand-forged beskar armor and the majority of his weapons - save for the custom black, gold, and bright silver WESTAR-35 secured to his right hip, replaced with a regular and much more comfortable attire befitting a scoundrel such as himself.
The newly minted Eminent took a small swig of his drink, the amber from the glass flowing smoothly down his throat.
Teebu followed closely after and made his way to the cabinet. He glanced at the bottles at his height level, not seeing what he was looking for initially but then seeing the familiar looking label and color of his favorite. He opened the cabinet and grabbed the bottle, confirming it was indeed Whyren’s, and proceeded over to the bar where he maneuvered a chair and climbed on top to reach the glasses. After taking one, he climbed back down and went to a small fridge where he dispensed several ice cubes into the glass.
He broke the seal on the bottle, and slowly poured it over the ice until it was near the top. Once filled, he closed the bottle and placed it back into the cabinet, closing the door after.
With the glass in hand, he proceeded over to a couch opposite the Regent and sat the glass down before climbing onto the couch and taking his seat. He leaned forward and grabbed the glass before leaning back again.
The screen flickered in front of Korvis as he went through the list of assets. Keldabe Class Cruisers were just to hard to pass up. They were rare finds and in the shape that these were they were nearly impossible to fine.
He hit the button completing the transaction. It cost Vizsla a few ships and the Concordia but it would be worth it in the end. A more streamlined fleet would be a benefit not just operationally, but financially as well. The offer from A.C.E. was more than fair, one last message to Juda letting him know the contract was finalized and to prepare for the new ships arrival and he would join the others for a drink.
Thran tossed his bags on the floor of the cabin. It was modest, by his standards. Most folks would have found it spacious and lavish, but most folks didn’t live his lifestyle. He grumbled to himself, that Zxyl would not surrender the master state-room. “Why the hell am I here again?” he wondered. In a short time, he wanted towards the lounge. He sidled up to the bar. He looked around. “Is there even a bartender here? concierge? a butler? room service?” he grumbled again. “ughhhhh.” he groaned as he poured himself a soda water with lime and cucumber.
“Why are we here?” Thran asked Zxyl.
“No, there are no bartenders, concierge, or butlers. It’s a corporate vessel meant for the transport of The Exchange’s agents, not a state or diplomatic vessel. Live in reality, Thran,” started the Regent, narrowing his eyes at his Praetor, “We’re here to take a break and relax, unwind and maybe, just maybe, I’ll hear what you people have to say regarding some back-end dealing for your clans. But the main point is re-lax-ation. I’ve booked us a getaway at a casino, and pray by the Mythosaur that we get there before we kill each other.”
Zxyl quickly downed his drink, got up, and poured another. He couldn’t stomach much of the Palpatine without alcohol swirling around in his system.
“The bar’s fully loaded. The pilots are droids, so we needn’t worry about a miscalculation or ending up in a star… lets just relax, unwind, and decide what we plan to do first.”
“`diff - DM: As if on queue, the Eternal’s engines began to hum a little louder as the hyperdrive spooled up and the droids in the cockpit - a group of B1 Pilot Battle Droids - finished entering the coordinates for their destination. Or what they thought were the coordinates.
"Prepare for hyperspace jump,” came one’s voice over the ship-wide communications, with the ship rocking as it entered lightspeed and blasted away from the seat of the Brotherhood’s power. “`
“If we have to share fun facts about ourselves or do team building exercises…I swear that I will make a scene. And I am warning you now, I will not catch any of you in the trust fall.”
“I know everything I need to know about you Thran, and unfortunately stuff I don’t,” Bes'uliik smirked.
“I promise this isn’t going to be a ‘share circle’s trip. We’re already on our way.”
“Great. So we’re just supposed to hang out as 4 people who don’t particularly like each other? Cool. Grand…Welp…this is going to be excruciating enough, might as well do some time travelling. Since I have to be here and apparently have no choice in the matter…I know I don’t want to remember any of it…” Thran said as he reached over the bar and grabbed the nearest bottle of liquor. He uncorked it and took a pill straight from the bottle.
Thran clicked his tongue. “Why is it spicy? Ah fuck it.” He took another long pull.
The Ewok looked at Thran as he took the first sip of his drink, lightly shaking his head before speaking with a solid air legitimate of respect in his voice. “While I may not like you, Praetor Occasus-Palpatine, I am able to put that aside out of respect of our mutual leader given we all work together as his assistants.”
He sat his glass down and continued. “I even have a respect of you as my Praetor. This trip should be no different in that regard, since the purpose is for us to get to know each other better so we can operate more efficiently as a team for the benefit of the Regent and the Brotherhood.”
“Seriously…how’d you guys get that thing to talk? Do you put peanut butter in it’s mouth and dub over it? You hid the speaker well.” Thran said, examining Teebu for an indication of hidden electronics.
“did you not?” He said looking at Korvis and Zxyl after a long and very awkward pause. “Weird. Must be an old glitterstim flashback. So…um…what do Mandalorians talk about in their free time?”
Teebu gave a soft smirk as he took another drink, wondering who else besides himself and the Regent he was looking at given their other compatriot was not yet present. The subtle shift of topics, however, was a good save of face though given that the Ewok did not respond to the Praetor’s unwitty comment and neither did the Regent.
“Weapons and Armor, what else is their to talk about?” the Vizslan Consul replied with more than a hint of sarcasm. Honestly, though he was happy with a respite from clan life.
“I was always taught when you’re drinking there are two topics you don’t touch. No religion and no politics. Weapons and armor sounds like Mando theology to me.” Thran said with a smile.
“Hm. I didn’t know you were a mando theologist as well then, Praetor. Or do you intend not to use weapons and armor on this trip even if they were warranted?” the Ewok threw in to catch his wording. “I do agree however, good weapons and good armor do indeed make for great discussion…and great odds of living.”
“And good business,” chipped in the Regent.
To that, the Ewok raised his glass and took a drink.
“Yes yes, sell more blasters. You’ll need them.” Thran said, shooting a side eye at Teebu. “Alas, this is not a trip for discussing the marketing tactics for ACE’s next line of purse pistols. Unless our dear Regent here has taken a page from my playbook and whispered false promises of fun in our ears, just to trap us under mountains of paperwork. You wouldn’t do something like that, now would you Zxyl? Stoop to my level?” Thran grinned and pulled another long drink from the bottle he clutched.
“No, never. Why would I take advantage of time away from your respective clans, like that? No. We’re taking a ‘relaxing trip’ to an Unknown Regions outpost some Inquisitorius scouts located.”
<@693983046197706842> ansi
[2;31m[1;31mNoobisDM:[0m[2;31m[0m
[2;36mYou determine through spoonbender-ing that Zxyl is being honest.
<@693983046197706842> ansi
[2;31m[1;31mNoobisDM:[0m[2;31m[0m
[2;36mYou determine that you are indeed heading towards a recently located outpost in the Unknown Regions. It was located by the Inquistorius. It looked as though it had been occupied previously, but there was nobody there when the Inquisitorius visited and passed along information to the Regent. There was technology everywhere, technology the Regent thinks could be valuable to The Exchange. That's all Zxyl knows about where you're going.
Thran puts the bottle down on the bar and sighs. “Yep there it is. Today I learned that ‘Relaxing trip’ is Mando'a for more work.” He says.
Zxyl looks over to Thran, narrowing his eyes for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“On Bakura we called going up to the lake district and splashing around in the water between bouts of sun bathing a ‘Relaxing Trip’…I have the distinct impression that sandy beaches and string bikinis are not in our immediate future.” Thran said, pushing back the bar stool.
“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.” Thran added, looking around the rest of the lounge for other activities to partake in. For all his chaotic behavior, Thran was calculating. Not only was it unwise to go into an unknown situation with a head full of liquor, he was certain the present company, despite their pleasantries, would take advantage of such a gap in wisdom. If he was to be made a fool of, it’d be on his own terms.
“You assume an awful lot, and doubt the Regent even more.” Teebu said with a disappointed tone. “For all we know, his personal goal is to do sonething else while the rest of us go off and relax, having decided on a good location for us to do so on the same world. Not like he’s going to use us for droideka target practice…”
He paused for a moment at that prospect and gave a glance to Zxyl. “..are you?”
“Time will tell,” responded the Regent as he finished his drink and got up to pour another, “Maybe you… but probably not. Everyone needs lackies, afterall.”
Leaning against the wall with a glass of Lothbrew, Korvis could help but smile at the scene. The banter and comraderie were a far cry from leading a Clan of Mandalorians and mercenaries. He had even put most of his weapons in the secure lockbox in his cabin.
“Could be fun either way. Not to often do I get to have an adventure just for the sake of doing it anymore.”
Thran looked briefly at Zxyl, then to Korvis. The extraordinarily calm attitude of the Mandalorian people before battle reminded him of a story he’d once heard about great warriors braiding their hair and singing on the eve of battle, the enemy took this as them being unprepared. The enemy suffered greatly due to this assumption. These men were not lax in preparation for battle, their minds were honed for war at all times. Thran dared not assume anything of the Mandalorians, least he play the role of the enemy of that old tale. Besides, the Force had already revealed the truth.
“Perhaps, you assume too little.” Thran said to Teebu, the emphasis a clear jab at the Ewok’s stature. “But, it is as Zxyl said…time will tell, won’t it?”
Thran lazily drifted towards the dartboard on the bulkhead wall. He picked up a single dart, inspecting it and pressing the tip lightly into his finger. “Might as well pass the time till we get that answer…anyone for a game? I have a rack of credits says I win.”
“Fine, then…I’ll play with myself. But if you perverts want to watch, it’ll cost you. I don’t offer group rates.” Thran said, laughing at the childish joke.
After thinking for only the moment Thran gave all of them to respond, he figured why not. And like they say, keep your friends close, colleagues closer..but your enemies the closest.
“Count me in. Could be fun.” Teebu chimed in as he finished his drink, hopped up, and pulled a stool along the floor towards the board.
He went over to the board and grabbed three darts off of a small ledge just below it before looking at Thran. “You want to go first, or should I?” <@693983046197706842>
“What’s the wager?” Thran said, looking at Teebu with a half grin
Teebu pondered for a moment. “I win…you tell me your plan to succeed Kam'jin. You win, I tell you mine.”
“My plan? Kamjin? Who’s assuming now…” Thran said “No…I don’t think those terms meet my taste for wager. Ten thousand credits.” Thran said turning back to the dart board. “Per dart.”
A smirk came across his lips. “Why not twenty?”
“Do you even have that many credits? Don’t lie.. I can find out.”
“I doubt Thran does.” Teebu remarked as he carefully concentrated, pulled a dart back, and threw it at the board.
Thran watched the dart zip through the air. His finger twitched slightly. Invisible threads, those used to weave the fabric of the living universe, lightly snared the dart. The dart just slightly adjusted its trajectory. A fraction of a degree change to a fin had altered it’s path. The adjustment was so discreet, even a droid would have had a hard time calculating the moment of interference. The dart thunked into the cork board that surrounded the target board.
“Oof. Bad luck…” Thran said. “Guess I have the credits now…”
Teebu dimmed his eyes, considering for a moment. He had given it enough strength to aim for the upper 20 range with a straight fin shot and no rotation, there wasn’t a reason it should have deviated off to that degree. At best, it should have struck the outer or even inner center of the board and worst, the mid rings of the 20, 5, or 1 range, and inner rings of the 12, 5, 20, 1, or 18 range.
“Hang on a second. I need to check something.” he remarked as he examined the barrel and the fin of a second dart. As expected of the Regent’s ship, both were of immaculate quality and craftsmanship. The tip, solid metal, and the balance of the dart on Teebu’s finger was perfect.
After checking it, he raised it up and carefully prepared another shot before throwing it at the board.