Clan Vizsla was filled with a variety of different people. Those who used the Force and those who did not. Mandalorians. Sith. Jedi. Pirates. There was no one singular background which united them. Instead they were brought together by a variety of things. The camaraderie born of fighting alongside allies. The thrill of adventure. And the lure of making credits.
It was these things which brought a group of Vizsla adventurers to the planet of Nar Shaddaa. This celestial body orbited the Hutt planet of Nal Hutta. Just like the planet it orbited the moon was home to a variety of smuggler’s and ne’er do wells. The adventuring party found themselves on the moon’s surface, having traveled via either their own transports or ships available to Clan Vizsla members. They had journeyed to the Prowling Pyke a local tavern that unbeknownst to many served as an intelligence safe house for Clan Vizsla. Now it was time for the adventurers to enter the tavern and learn more about the bounty they had been contracted to complete.
Inside the tavern sat a half dozen tables, most occupied by various sentient species. Humans, Nikto, Weequay, Devaronians, and Zeltrons numbered among the visible species. The bartender, a scraggly bearded human, worked behind a bar top, serving several customers who sat upon stools. Two Twilek, one male and one female, worked as waiting staff, delivering food and drinks to the tables. A pair of bouncers watched over the patrons. One was a massive Wookiee, the other an armed and armored trandoshan.
The tavern’s stockpile of alcohol was considerable. From spiced rum to Tihaar, Starfire ‘skee and grog, the establishment held many beverages to appeal to a diverse clientele.
Kanal stumbled away from the bartender and over to the table where the rest of his comrades sat. The recent conflicts had left him in self doubt, and his once honorable, strong self, was now focused more on drinking spiced rum than anything else. He would still complete missions for Vizsla but, they were always small runaways he was hunting down. Easy Marks.
“allo friends, thankfully the rum is not gone yet.” Kanal hiccupped.
Haro sat at the table, vigilant, his hand on his blaster. He wasn’t drinking anything. Before a mission like this, he preferred to save his wits for the main event. ‘Wait 'til the mission is over,’ he told himself. ‘Then you can drink as much Tihaar as you want.’ Looking up at Kanal, he replied “Yes, now you can muddle your wits as much as you want. I prefer to save the drinking for after, on a mission like this.” After replying, he continued to survey the tavern for threats.
‘Always be prepared for a threat,’ his father had told him. ‘Never give your enemies the element of surprise.’ Jifo, his uncle, had then chimed in, ‘Keep a hand on your blaster, just in case someone does attack you. And always remember.“
With the memories of his father and uncle, Haro said, under his breath, "Shooting first is better than being dead.”
A diminutive Twi’lek appeared at the door in very distinctive red Dathomiri armor. She looked out over the sea of Mandalorians and other various denizens of the dank corners of the galaxy before heading to the bar. She gave the Wookie bouncer a warm smile but avoided eye contact with the trandoshan. “Rylothian Yurp please,” she requested as she climbed up on the barstool.
The door to the Prowling Pyke opened with a hiss. The pneumatic doors sliding open in a blink. Instead of light entering the room a shadow was cast as Vynn Salm entered the cantina. At over 7 feet tall his height was impressive. His white armor glistened in the interior lights as he met his team for the briefing.
“Who are we missing?”
“Well I don’t see your mother anywhere,” Kanal joked as he hiccupped and drank some more of his rum. Clearly the drink had already taken over his higher sense of reasoning and, had left him to act like a child in a schoolyard. “Maybe we should just begin saavy?” He smiled as he set his cup down.
The bartender gave a grunt in agreement. He grabbed a labeled cannister from bar and a clean glass, then poured the yurp. “Straight or on the rocks?” He inquired.
“Straight. It’s weak enough already. No need to water it down. Thank you,” she accepted the glass and sipped at the familiar liquid. The flavor was full of memories, like the first time her and A’dara snuck out of the orphanage.,,she pushed the thought away. She was here on business. Best to stay in the moment.
The door opened once more. a single figure stepped in, wearing muted grey armor, underneath a set of robes. He had not been here in a long time, having travelled to the outer reaches in search of his own past. He had received a coded message, however, that he was needed, and that besides his regular payout, he would be provided with information.
For him, information was as valuable as credits, especially the information he was after. And he knew it would not be free, he knew the value. And so, the Sith Lord in Mandalorian armor had found his way back.
Rather than drawing attention to himself, he found a spot near the door to watch and observe. Those who knew him would recognize him, and those who did not would probably not pay too much attention to him.
[placeholder]
A human male sauntered over to the table occupied by several Vizsla members. A scruffy untamed beard covered his face and one of his eyes was covered with a dark black eyepatch. Taking a seat at the table he pulled out a small device and placed it on the table, activating it.
“Now we won’t be overheard. You can call me Patch. Vizsla intelligence sent me. I’ve got the information on your bounty target if you are prepared for the hunt.” The man declared.
Kanal shifted his position on the table to listen better. Bottle of rum in hand waiting for the next drop to hit his tongue.
“I’m ready.” Haro looked at the man, then at his companions. He frowned at the obviously drunken man who had elected to join this high-importance mission. He seemed more of a liability than an asset, if Haro was being completely honest. He looked back at Patch. The man seemed capable of holding his own in a fight. “What’s the info?”
Aeternus saw what was happening at the table, when the device was placed on the table. he shook his head, and made his way over to them, taking a seat, unannounced. he nodded at Kanal, before speaking.
“Not here.”, he told Haro. “Silence can be just as loud as a scream, and your friend here,” indicating Patch, “Has just screamed as loud as he can. anyone who knows what to look for, is now aware something worthwhile is being discussed here.”
Patch leaned back in his chair.
“Not my first rodeo, you can relax. Why do you think we picked the day and time of the meeting? Everyone in this room is either a Vizsla agent or on our payroll. Either way they won’t ask questions. Silencer lets us keep the information compartmentalized in case anyone is captured. Less loose ends to tie up.”
“This isn’t always the case. The bar does have a public front. So make sure you go through the proper channels before making any clandestine meetings here.”
Haro finally took his hand off his blaster. Knowing that they were safe here was reassuring. He turned to the man who had addressed him. “Thanks for the tip,” he said. “I hadn’t heard that one before.”
“If its ok with everyone I’ll get down to business.” Patch stated. “Viz intel has already done most of the investigative work. We’ve narrowed the exchange to a warehouse in the refugee district. Thing is, we don’t have the firepower to go after a Mandalorian clan and their allies. That’s where you all come in. You’ll be serving as the primary strike team. Infiltrate the warehouse and gather evidence and intel on our foes. Deal with anyone who gets in your way. And if you can take the weapons they have been dealing Clan Vizsla will put them to good use.”
“So you want us to go, into said warehouse, full of Vizslan enemies, to procure intel and weapons used to cause mass destruction?” Kanal said as he swallowed more of the rum in his bottle. “Pray tell, what shall our services garner us? We need to get paid here, savvy?” Kanal said as he looked around the table of his fellows.
The question was expected. Of all the Clans, Vizsla was more mercenary inclined than most. “Payment can be rendered in the usual forms. Credits, Platinum, Beskar Ingots, Mon Calamari Flan, Spice, or equipment. You’ll receive either a delivery to your location of choice or a transfer of credits to your clan account.” Patch responded.
“Credits for me,” Haro said. Gesturing to his armor, he continued, “I already have all the Beskar I need.” He turned to his companions. “What about you guys? Credits?”
“I was told there would be a datadisk with information for me upon completion.”, Aeternus said. “That is all the payment I need.”
Sinya’ni nodded. “Credits are the only reason I am here. How much are we talking? Seems like a bit of hazard pay is warranted”
A raven and white-haired human woman clad in white beskar shimmered into view, having been sitting invisible in an open chair. The former Consul and Herald rapped her darkly tanned fingers on the table as her cybernetic eye stared at the bearded man.
“He knows what I want. Whether he can deliver is the question.”
“If we are doing debating payment, the job can begin in earnest. We’ve prepared several modified speeders and a few operatives to assist you. With the additional strength you provide I am confident in our ability to secure the warehouse.”
Patch stood up from his chair and tapped 3 times on the table. The electronic field shut down with a hiss of static. A dozen intelligence agents stood alongside Patch and began making their way to the back of the tavern. A stack of crates was uncovered and each individual grabbed a heavier blaster to complement the side arm on their hips.