After another day treating slaves in conditions that were less than ideal, Jek made his way back to his usual abode.  The monotony of the day's work had been broken by the group of humans who'd paid a visit to the compound.  It wasn't often groups of buyers came to see the slaves and these ones whilst 'talking the talk' had barely looked twice at the 'merchandise'.  Still they were slavers so they were hardly worth noticing.

Arriving at his cheap apartment, Jek found the hallway was quiet and his door untampered with.  In these sections of town break-ins were common and it paid not to be home when burglars were around unless you fancied a lightfight.

Settling into one of his chairs, Jek had done little more than put his feet up and contemplate dinner when a knock arrived at his door.  A small holocam in the hallway let Jek see he had two visitors.  Both were human.  One man screamed military all the way.  His posture, the style of his clothes.  The other man looked like one of the men who'd come to look at the slaves.  Whilst he hadn't been the chatty one, he was the one who'd seemed to spend the most time observing people.  Jek had felt uncomfortable when he'd been looking at him, as if his very thoughts were being read.  Even now, the man with the smile stared up into Jek's supposedly-concealed cam.  Soldier boy was cautiously watching the hallway, his hand periodically moving under his jacket, likely to a concealed blaster in a shoulder harness.
This message was last updated by the GM at 07:27, Fri 23 Mar 2007.

That's unusual. One of them was at the compound today. Why would they be here? Pressing a button on the intercom button, Jek calls out casually, "Let me guess, you're afraid of hospitals, and didn't think I made house calls? Why are you two here?"

As soon as he finishes saying that, he presses the receive button down, locking it in place. Not standing around waiting, the young man takes his own blaster pistol out, and stands off to the side of the hallway. Using it for cover, he can listen still and have cover in case they just start firing.

If they're here, they are looking for info about the compound, or the slaves. Seems odd either way. They didn't seem to know what they needed exactly earlier. I didn't even see them come in to check out the new shipment today. I assumed they came just because they wanted to see some of the new arrivals, see what they are like before they are placed out over the compound.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Sun 03 Dec 2006.

Cyril continued to look into the hidden camera as he pressed the intercom.  His tone was even and polite.

"We are here because we wanted to discuss matters that may be of mutual benefit to us.  Topics that I don't think we should be discussed over an intercom in a public hallway.  May I come in?"

Mutual benefit? Well, I guess that's not much purpose in killing me, as that won't save them a credit. Maybe I'll hear them out.

Stepping back into the hallway, Jek will press the button to talk, and say, "Give me a minute." Walking up and down the hallway, he'll purposely make them wait a little extra before opening his door.

"Alright, you have my interest. dressed simply, his jacket is off, and is clearly showing a holstered blaster pistol. He'll invite them in with a pointing of his hand towards the interior of his apartment. His hand is on his weapon, but it's holstered.

Cyril notes the Doctor's blaster but makes no mention.  As he enters he takes off his jacket and places it next to the door.  His blaster sits snugly in a shoulder holster.  Moving slowly so as not to alarmt he doctor, he reaches up slowly and ejects the power pack from the blaster and slips it into his pocket.  He then moves in to the main area of the apartment and sits himself in whatever piece of furniture looks comfortable.

"I must admit, I was surprised to find a doctor working with a small-time slaving ring.  I would have thought a large planetary hospital would have offered much better pay and conditions.  Or at least a larger slaver operation."

Seeing the man remove the powerpack from his blaster eases him, but still the other man is the one that seems ready and able to handle himself in a firefight. At the comment of what the doctor might be doing there at the slave ring, Jek will shrug his shoulders, saying, "Hey, there's credits and a need. Sometimes both are reasons to be in a place."

Closing the door once both men are in, Jek will walk over to his autochef, asking, "You two want something to drink? I just walked in myself, and haven't had a time to get anything yet." He'll press a button on the unit, and let a drink start being dispensed into a mug. Before it's filled, Jek asks a second question, "I take it you have something I want? Or is that I have something you want?"

"A drink?  Corellian whisky if you have it, or whatever rotgut passes for it on this planet."

Accepting his drink, Cyril sips it thoughtfully for a moment before returning his gaze to the doctor.

"Firstly let me introduce myself.  My name is Cyril, and my friend over there likes to be known as Xil.  We are no more interested in buying slaves then you are in working in that facility."

"When we met you I noticed almost immediately your obvious dislike for your employers as well as us.  One of my colleagues confirmed my suspicions.  At first I assumed you were merely digruntled.  Perhaps you had been passed over for a big promotion or you had been denied a bigger cut.  This does not seem the case.  A disgruntled employee lets his skill of work slip.  Even the most professional person puts in less than one hundred percent."

"You do not let your work slip.  In fact you seem to care about the slave you helped.  You did not just fix his arm but you showed true care for him.  This does not fit with a man who trades in human lives to make a credit.  So I think your reasons for being there are more covert as are ours."

Cyril sets his drink down.  "To be blunt, we need your help.  We plan to return to that facility in a less-than-hospitable manner.  Wether your motivations are humanitarian, financial or driven by vengeance we can help you acheive your goal.  In return we need as much information and help as you can supply."

Cyril sat back to let the doctor absorb what he had said.  More direct than I'd normally imply but I have no time.  Have to go with my gut on this and hope Jamie and I are right about this guy

As Cyril speaks, Xil stands quietly in the corner.  He was uncomfortable with the whole subterfuge thing.  Give him a target and a rifle and he'd do his job.  He found it difficult to understand why Cyril was compromising them so much to this doctor.  What was to stop him reporting them to the slavers?

Corellian whiskey? He's playing for keeps or like he's my best friend. Maybe he's just used to high standards. Kneeling down at the cabinet which has some various bottles, Jek isn't sure of his guests just yet, and pushes aside the Corellian whiskey, and opting for a cheaper, local brand of brew. It's pretty syrupy, but still can be swallowed. Tossing the bottle in an underhand pass meant easy to be caught, he offers, "Heads up."

After that, he listens closely to the offer, and is a bit surprised that the offer was to break up the group, and not for just credits. Keeping it simple, he doesn't want to reveal too much without more information from them. "That's quite the offer, though I have no way of knowing how true that will be, wanna tell me just who is footing the credits on this? Who are you working for? Not too many independent groups trying to free slaves now a days?"

"Just as I have not pressed you for your motives or even your name, I ask you to respect that some information I am not free to give.  Nor did I say that freeing the slaves was our motive, merely a beneficial side effect.  I have merely made an offer to you, sufficiently vague to protect you from your employers should you refuse.  It also protects us."

"All you have is my word to go on.  Its a poor down pament but its all I have.  Your reward can vary.  If you are humanitarian then rescuing the slaves will be your reward.  Otherwise you can imagine there will be tangible financial benefits to this strike."

Noticing the other man hasn't made any response to a drink, Jek is guessing the motivation of him. Looks military, and is keeping to himself. Almost seems to not want to be hear. Hired muscle? This Cyril seems the only one who's going to talk. He even disarmed himself, while his enforcer did not. I'd figure that is telling of Xil's abilities.

Smiling, Jek is sure that he has something they need, else they wouldn't be here.
"I'll be blunt then. I don't think knowing your first name is equating to the slaves being better taken care of. It certainly won't help me take care of them. That I am listening to you so far shows you already suspect me of something. So far, I suspect you of looking for some other profit. Could be capturing these slaves for resale, or it could be a vendetta against Skee, or anyone else involved in the deals. Something else, I'm not sure? Right now though, knowing your first name, and vague promises ain't going to buy a single slave from freedom, nor pay for supplies to take care of one either. Do you have anything duracrete strong for something that shows your intentions?"

A small smile curled on Cyril's lips.  He does care about the slaves.  He may be bluffing but I don't think he posseses the skill to do so.

"Doc.  If you wanted contracts written in durocrete you'd be working in some fancy hospital, not working for a group of slavers.  You have to use your instincts to decide if your partners will betray you.  Its not like you could complain to your union if they stopped paying you."

"For a start I have entrusted you with two key pieces of information to betray us.  You know our mission is not what we stated so you could return and report us to your masters.  Secondly, you or your slaver friends could report us to Gerta the Hutt.  I doubt she would take well to me using her name in business dealings.  Hutts tend to be quite violent in that regard."

"As to our final goal, I am not entitled to share that information.  I can tell you that this slaver ring is a means to an end.  They are a power convertor in a much larger power plant.  Slavery, wether endorsed or not in various system is not tolerated by us.  We are waging a war.  We are asking for your help.  If not, and you care about the slaves I will provide you with a list of potential strike times and dates.  This way you can avoid getting caught up whilst providing us with a way to know if you betrayed us."

Cyril swallows the remainder of his drink with a small grimace and places the bottle and cup on the table.  He carefully reaches into his pocket and pulls out a commlink and a datapad.

"Now I offer you one of two things now.  If you wish to help us, take the commlink.  It will allow us to contact you and vice versa.  It's encryption is  military-grade software so unless your slavers have a hot shot slicer then you wont be discovered.  If you like, I can also take you to meet the rest of my team now."

"If you want no part in this I will leave the datapad.  It is empty now but insert it in a public terminal tomorrow and it will receive a data dump of a list of potential strike times.  Avoid the compound at these times."

Cyril waits for Jek to choose.  Almost feels like a script from a cheap spy holomovie.  Still the old methods are still the best.

Xil shuffles his feet slightly.  It wasn't that he was bored or impatient.  As a sniper he'd spent hours sitting in one spot waiting for his mark.  It was all the information Cyril was spilling to this doctor.  How did he know he could trust him?  Surely he would report them to his superiors.

He took a cleansing breath, releasing it slowly, like he did before taking his shot.  It helped calm him, keep him focused.  Cyril was the expert with words.  He knew what he was doing.