Glass crunched under the heavy boot that stepped over Mikhail’s unconscious form. The steps made their way through his hotel room, stopping at the side of his bed before returning to the battered and bruised Arkanian.
His head was lifted carefully, jaw slack as a pillow was pushed under his head and shards of glass were brushed off his face and neck. The heavy footfalls then walked to the door out. It opened, and with a final look back over the injured man, it shut.
———— A Week Later ————
Mikhail nails dug into palms, threatening to draw red as he paced up and down the length of an alleyway. His jaw clenched, teeth aching at the effort. He wanted to send his fist through the wall next to him, but flesh and bone didn’t stand a chance against metal and brick. So instead he crouched low, squaring behind some old broken creates. His fists shook with rage, his entire body felt like it was wired to blow.
Ba-Ding
His compad chimed, and before the sound could fade from the alley, Mikhail was clawing through his pocket for it. He read the message a few times, phone trembling in his grip that would have threatened to snap the screen if he was a bit stronger.
One slow breath went in, then was pushed out. Hopefully carrying all the cultivated rage he had accumulated over the course of the last week.
Altirius was here. Not alone either. He brought his contingent, almost everyone made a show at the diner as if to assure Mikhail that there was no reason to think he could escape his duties.
A minute passed in silence. Allowing the pounding of the Arkanian’s heart to fade. Hands that only trembled slightly ran through his hair, pushing everything Up and back. Fitted to the swoop he so often styled.
There was no more time to wait. He adjusted his jacket, collar, and sleeves then grabbed his cane that was leaning against a wall. With it, he began his half limp gait down the street, eyes focused through black glass on the winery. Reservations for three, if Cole and his plus one chose to actually show.
He hoped they did.
He needed them to.
They were there 5 minutes before they were due to arrive.
Cole was dressed in his usual attire, a white button up shirt and black slacks, though wearing a black and grey jacket to match this time. It also hid the shape of the armour hidden beneath. He didn’t trust Mikhail, and he wouldn’t let down his guard simply because the man had asked him to dinner.
Bringing Sofila hadn’t been what Cole really wanted but they’d long since agreed to share these types of excursions. It was best to put the other in danger, than to someday be the one waiting to see if the other came home alive or in a body bag.
Icy blue eyes met with the shaded gaze of Mikhail, nodding slightly in greeting and approaching.
The moment she found out where they were going, Sofila had to frantically shop online because she had nothing for that kind of event. Kriff, she karking hates shopping. It was so much easier when she had her friends with her. Minnie was always the pro-
Sofila winced as her heart twisted in guilt. Minnie. She missed her. She still hasn’t apologized. The longer it goes on, the more she realized she may never be forgiven for taking so long. But it was her choice, right? She can handle the consequences… right?
She missed her friends on Selen. Save for Cole, Sofila felt alone on Port Ol'Val. Sure, there was members of the House but she wasn’t close to any of them. She was their boss and that alone made her uneasy. On her days off, she used to go to Selen in a heartbeat with poor Cole in tow, just to enjoy nature, for her to go visit her friends and family real quick, and have a breather.
Lately? She was starting to hide in the shadows. Who knew being part of that would feel so lonely in a way? Thank kark she had Cole or… No. She wasn’t going to karking think about that. There was more things that are priority at the moment.
At least until, Scimitar was good and dead.
Her pink hues glanced around. It seemed like a normal winery place. She didn’t have armor on her but she has her beskar dagger. She never left home without it and she wasn’t going to start now. It was well hidden and unnoticeable thanks to the dress she was wearing. Her hair was down and curls bounced with every move she made. Cole found Mikhail as she glanced over and recognized him. It was hard to forget that kind of unique crystal like on his face. She doesn’t know much about Mikhail save for the fact that apparently Cole and him have some … things in common.
Sofila warmly smiled as they approached, “Hi!”
The Arkanian matched Coles look, but was distracted for a moment by the greeting from Sofila. Either she was being, strangely, genuinely pleasant, or she was a wonderful liar. Either way, he took his seat across the table from them both. He adjusted his heavy jacket, padded with salt and pepper fur, then slung it across the back of his chair. Under it he wore a professional looking high collar pressed suit, dark vest with a grey undershirt and a blue tie that matched the deeper hues of the crystal scar across his neck and cheek. His hair was styled, black and flowy waves swept back into two subtle peaks.
He pressed his pale hands into the table infront of him, showing that they were at least empty. Dark glass blocked his eyes from being read easily, but it was obvious he was watching them both as he settled. “привет. Greetings.” He drew his hands back, folding them into each other close to him on the table. “Thank you both for coming. As I stated originally, this business is important to me, and should prove valuable to your wider interests.”
He reached into his coat pocket then and pulled out a compad and begun flicking through it as he spoke. “It is certainly in our mutual interest to work together. Though, the info I require is not easy to acquire.”
He spun the compad on the table and slid it over to them as a fancy dressed waiter approached, setting three short glasses of water infront of them.
“Bienvenue” the Twilek spoke with an accent “Welcome to Vin Joyau du Dragon, I have menus here for our wine. Specials are on the first page. If you’d like to order an Entrée, they are on the last page.” She then stood tall and still
On the compad was a a few images with blurbs next to them. Each depicting a location, person, or event. A Hutt was named, linking them to a series of Tibanna gas refineries on a cloud world nearby. A few grainy photos showed evidence of arm shipments being smuggled along with the gas, entire gas tanks emptied to store weapons and Spice. It seemed the refineries were making more than just one sort of Gas.
Cole focussed in on the comm pad, looking over the locations, the people.
He glanced to Sofila when the waitress arrived, commenting plainly, “I’ll have whatever she has.” Before focussing in on the information. He’d have comments, but not when there was an additional set of ears present
“Ah! Thank you.” Sofila grinned at the waitress as she started to look at the menu while Cole took the comm pad first. She was slightly surprised with Mikhail handing it over considering there was a waitress right there. Cole was much more careful– she bit her lower lip. Maybe paranoid was the right word. Her fingers twitched as she glared over to Cole for a split second when it seemed that he’ll have whatever she was having. Why was she making the decision? Kriff. What if he didn’t like-
Wait. They both had a lot in common. Something on the menu caught her eye and-
“We’ll have bantha steak, medium rare, with mushroom gravy on top and mashed potatoes and broccoli on the side. And I will take his-” She gestured to Mikhail, “suggestion on wine for us.”
Mikhail eyed Cole as he dumped the decision onto Sofila…. Who proceeded to dump some of their decision onto him. He drummed each finger against the table once, thumb to pinkie. He turned his face upwards the to waitress. “I will have a Centurion Salad. For wine, I heard you had Greilmäuch Frost? We’ll take a bottle.”
The Twilek preformed a slight bow at the waist before collecting the menus. “An excellent choice. Would you like full bottle service?”
“No, I’ve poured it before. Thank you.” He turned his attention then to the other two, giving them yet another once over as if his previous examinations were not thorough enough. The waitress left with the menus and the order, disappearing into the low hum and chatter of the room.
Cole placed the data pad back onto the table once the waitress left.
“You either trust this location or are sloppy, Mikhail.” He commented lightly, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I’m assuming this information you want us to acquire is around the gasses this Hutt is producing?”
“You have not been to many high end lounges I take it. Important people discuss important things surrounded by opulence and hedonism. Discrepancy is a service, sold to those with names of note.” He gestures to the pad then, eyes falling to it.
“Gas indeed. Our goal is more in-depth however. This place is believed to be a CDC, taking goods in bulk and staging shipments under the guise of Gas delivery. It is a hub of movement, thus intel. How things are moved, where they are moved, what they move. This information is of use to us both.”
“We didn’t use credits on paying people to not listen to us when we had our own facilities.” Cole commented, his face nor tone giving away any judgement or disdain. A simple statement of fact.
“It sounds like a fairly typical infiltration.”
Sofila then took the pad and-
Her brows furrowed as she reach to the fancy bag she had to bring for this kind of setting. She unzipped it and pulled out her own datapad and started to look for something as she remained quiet while Cole and Mikhail talk.
“Kist.” Sofila finally said as she handed Cole the datapad as it showed the similar CDC ships were seen at Port Ol'Val.
They have been at their home territory.
And she’s pissed.
<@160141735354171394>
Mikhail watched Sofila react to something, but continued on. “Typical is certainly a word for it. We will need disguises, a ship with a neutral ID, and goods. From there I can arrange a faux meeting and get us landed. Alternatively, we can catch a ride in. Or, if all else fails, I can try and pilot us in undetected. I will still need a ship, however.”
“The goods will likely be the largest problem there. We can get permission to use a neutral ship for a journey, or simply rent one from a from a neutral system, but getting one for cargo will be more difficult in the long run. Getting in through another method would likely be our best bet.”
“I can procure goods, if you can manage a ship. But if you are more interested in the other route, we will need to be quiet. Disguises could be useful.” He slowly tapped his finger against the table, contemplatively.
“Necessary.” He corrected himself with a gesture to his scarred face. “I have a mask, it should suffice depending on our cover.”
Sofila sighed softly. Kriff. Getting ships would be complicated and Cole brought up the issue of getting the goods. While she agreed to keep this off books, she wasn’t comfortable if she had to use something from Port Ol'Val.
She didn’t like the idea of Mikhail procure the goods especially if it could come back and bite them in the ass later. She couldn’t take that risk. There was the problem of being quiet. Disguises would be better.
“Hm.” She was trying not to be amused with the fact that three of them had scarred face. She gently took the datapad and put it back in her bag.
“And what do you suggest for the cover?”
“We will all likely need a mask too.” Cole commented, considering, “You know Sofila’s position and it’s not like Kadnikov and Farrow weren’t allies once. Our faces might not be known by many but if word gets around of matching appearances or they get lucky, it’ll be for the best for all of us to be concealed.”
He let out a soft breath, considering. “Many occupations use masks. We wouldn’t want to claim any specialization but something as simple as a maintenance crew could likely get away wearing masks if they looked dirty enough. I don’t know much about mechanics but it shouldn’t be hard to carry the correct items, be sufficiently dirtied from the work already, and pass through in a larger group.”
Mikhail pursed his lips, focusing on the table between them for a few moments. Eventually he spoke. “Tibanna Gas scrubbers.” He tapped the table twice with a finger.
“Full body shielding, High casualty rate, new workers would be a common sight. But we’d be regulated to the actual gas storage areas. Might not have access to where we need to get. It’d be easy to get there, but we’d still need to be careful making moves.”
He let the idea hang, obviously still troubleshooting mentally as the waitress approaches the table again. With a practiced smoothness, both plates are set infront of Cole and Sofila. The plate quality gave off just enough egregiousness - what with shaved gold flakes and a side bowl of Caviar to assure that this was indeed, extravagant.
Next she set down a metal cylindrical device on the table. She twisted the handle on top and with a hiss it split horizontally across the middle. A freezing cold fog crept through the crack then swirled through the air as she raised the top half to reveal a glass bottle nestled among chunks of glowing ice. Frost coated the bottle, encasing it in a thin layer of ice. With the display done, the Twilek set down a small silver plate with a miniature golden mallet on it. She offered the table a friendly smile as she set down a pair of gloves as well. “Is there anything else I can help you with? If needed, I can provide complimentary bottle service.”
Mikhail lifted a hand off the table by the wrist, holding his palm up as he spoke. “No thank you. I’m familiar.”
She nodded and took a few steps backwards. When she reached a respectful distance she spun away to go about her other duties.
“Once we’re in we’d be able to work from there. Get some pass keys, change clothes if necessary. It’d be a very… improvisition heavy plan but in a high risk job like this that’s better than trying to plan for all the infinite possibilities only to have the one you didn’t consider get you karked over.”
Cole glanced over the food, the extravagance of it. Jeez.
It looked great but the fact Mikhail was casual here heavily noted the difference between the two men. While they were both brought up to take part in a larger organisation, to fight for it, the kind of fights they’d taken part in weren’t the same.
He picked up a fork. Just because it was beyond over the top didn’t mean he wouldn’t partake. It’d be out of place to not, at least, and eyes were always watching.
“It’s doable.”
Sofila refrained from making any facial expressions as the plate appeared in front of her - and failed as she blinked twice. She glanced over to Cole for a moment before back to the plate.
What. The. Kark. Why was there gold flakes and side bowl of - what are those!? She obviously was not made for this life or even used to it. Or heard of it. Suns. And now there’s this… wine bottle over some kind of glowing ice and even gloves. She just remained still, her posture upright and her hands on her lap while her leg crossed over on the other.
At least she can look proper. That was a bonus. Acting though?
Still needed some work.
Distracted by the extravagance, Sofila was a bit behind on the conversation. She glanced to the food again and grabbed the knife and fork and started to cut into the bantha steak.
Doable, perhaps. But Improvisation was not Mikhail’s preferred method. He slipped the gloves on, then lifted the wine bottle carefully. The material on his hand crinkled and crackled with frost as he handled it. He cracked the cork and a fog crept from the seal. He carefully poured it into three glasses, the liquid a dark blue with a silvery metallic shimmer.
“I can gather the outfits. But I do not have the ability to requisition a ship. It will need a commercial ID - and perhaps some paint.” As he spoke, his eyes focused on their drinks, watching as frost crept up the glass from the surface of the liquid.
A soft noise broke through the chatter of the restaurant, the gentle hum of a horn followed by other instruments playing a quiet ambient for the diners.
“I’m sure we could acquire one easily enough.” Cole spoke with confidence. Afterall they worked on Port Ol'Val. There were plenty of transporters that would allow you to rent a ship from them. Throw down a good deal of extra credits in the pocket and it wouldn’t be difficult to just purchase it.
Just in case.
“We can and we will.” Even if it ended up being more trouble than it’s worth, she was certain that she would be able to pull strings and even reach out to her family.
She knows Buir would ask questions, but she had learned how to dodge them. Sofila shifted in her seat as she switched legs to cross, this wasn’t her environment but she does her best to look comfortable.
Mikhail slid two glasses across the table to Sofila and Cole, eyes lifting from the drinks to the both of them. “When the data is acquired, It must be turned over to my contact. They will be able to crack it, and any information worth reading will be extracted safely.” He let the two eat and drink as he once more fiddled with his compad. When it was turned around again the screen showed a photo that had obviously been zoomed in. It looked like a formal family photo, one quite large if the quality of the zoomed section was any indication.
The central figure was an older man with greying hair, fully silver-white eyes and a sneer that read closer to a snarl than a smile. “This is him, Kadnikov Altirius Malakovich. First son of Malus. He will take the data and return any useful information to me, I will see to it that you receive a copy.”
Cole considered it, taking the drink and using it as a way to quietly delay needing to answer.
He stared at the face presented for a long few moments, “What precautions are in place to ensure they return the data to us. That what they deem useful will be what we also consider so.”
“My assurance.” He responded simply, then took a sip from the chilled liquid. It was sweeter than normal wine, but not quite fruit juice sweet. Swallowing down the floral berry flavor Mikhail shook his head, “Concern with my side of things is understandable, but unnecessary. Some of my family would consider it an insult. I have no want to trick you, or draw any ire from the Brotherhood”
Cole considered it for a moment before nodding. “Then it will have to do.”
He had little concern of people feeling insulted by him asking questions, but understood what was meant. Mikhail understood, but others wouldn’t.
Sofila tried to follow by taking a drink when Cole did and managed to conceal her expression when she very much dislike it. What was it that she just drank? Her eyes glanced around the restaurant, knowing that she shouldn’t make faces at a location such as this.
Her brows furrowed at Makhail’s assurance. She wasn’t comforted and still uncomfortable about the situation. However, it seemed that it still Cole’s mind and he was much more experienced in this than her.
She was surprised about it but stayed quiet. It would be something she would have to ask him when they get out.
Or could it be the high-end restaurant that was making her unnerved?
Mikhail gazed at the both of them from his seat across the table. “To finalize, I shall be gathering outfits and passable Identification. You will supply a sutible transport for us. We will pose as Tibanna Gas Scrubbers and… Improvise. We should bring no weaponry that cannot be concealed by our full body suit. If we can avoid conflict, that would be preferable. We should however prepare a backup plan should our presence be noted. We do not want them to know their data has been breeched. I will deal with the backup plan before we leave for the station.”
He took a careful sip of the chilled drink, eyes going distant for a few moments, apparently lost in thought while the others eat.
“That seems agreeable.” Cole answered with a note of finality. He still didn’t like this, not at all really, but it’d do.
He continued eating for a moment, continuing the guise to an extent.
“What time line will be looking at?”
At least I’m a weapon. Sofila mused to herself when Mikhail had brought up that they cannot bring any weapons. Her eyes did glanced over to Cole, wondering exactly how he will conceal his weapons.
And she cannot wait to learn.
She was surprised that Cole agreed to it. She had a feeling there was more than he was saying but for once, she was being quiet, worried that she would say the wrong thing.
“As soon as possible. Realistically, about two weeks before I want to be on that station. I trust that is enough time for you.” He gently swirls his drink, then drinks from it again. The ice frost formed on the outside of the bottle slowly gave way to droplets that form rivets to trail down the side of the glass only to be met with ice and freeze again near instantly.
“More than enough.” Cole confirmed. “Though the additional time will make it easier. You have my contact details Kadnikov, give us at least 24 hours notice of when and where looking to begin and we will be there.”
Sofila was being quiet. It was good in a way, this was something he was almost certain she didnt’ have experience with and in an environment like this where even people with their backs turned would be watching them, it was good to not have everything advertised. It was still strange though.
On the way home
“By the stars-” Sofila muttered as she struggled to take off the buckles on her shoes. Who the kriffing thought was a good karking idea to have such complicated things, they should be easy to slip on and off-
“Next time, we are picking a place. Eeesh, I get the heebie jeebies feeling thinking about- what the kark was all that gold stuff!? I swear to the burning suns, if you even dare-” She pointed to Cole with one of her shoes that she had finally managed to get off. She set her foot down and almost lost her balance, her hand went to the wall while she’s trying to take off the other one. It’s fine. She can walk home barefooted. It’s fine.
“To take me out on a date in a place like that, I’ll- I’ll-” She couldn’t even finish as she shook her whole body as if it was crawling with bugs.
“What the kriff was all that!? What was the point of the golden painted… flakes, thing!? Who even looks at their own kist to see if there’s golden speckles when they finished?! And that- What is the karking point of eating like that?! What is wrong with a fat juciy burger with grease on your fingers and-” She stopped herself and glanced over to Cole.
“…Am I overreacting?”
<@432543120635461643>
Cole blinked a few times at the eventual direct question, looking between the shoes she held in each hand before meeting her gaze directly.
Really, his expression said it all but he did provide a small nod.
“A little. The Kadnikov’s are corporate as much as they are like how my family functioned. Now I don’t disagree that it’s egregious, just…” He gestured to the way she was still dipping from foot to foot as if ants were crawling on them. “Nothings wrong with the food you’re familiar with. You’d be karked off if someone insulted it just because they weren’t used to it.”
Sofila angrily scoffed.
“No, I wouldn’t!” She sat down by him with a huff. There was a moment of silence before, “Kark. Yea, I would.” She groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
He knew that was the answer but didn’t visibly react, letting her process it herself without any external judgement, only a slight tiredness that followed the Human everywhere anyway.
“We’re not home yet.” Cole took a step past her, holding his hand out to her. Whether he recieved her shoes or her hand, he didn’t mind, but they were too close to the front door to give up and sit in the hallway of all places.
Sofila sighed as she held the shoes in one hand and grasped Cole’s with the other as she got back up.
“Although…. this dress wasn’t so bad.”
Cole pulled, helping her up before releasing the hand as they finished the short walk to their apartment. He glanced to her, taking a moment to appreciate the dress visibly. Not that he hadn’t already, but it was a good oppurtunity.
“It suits you.”