Beneath the Sands (closed RP-Nuscian and Lisara)

Mandrayk stood outside the small makeshift complex that served as is as the excavation site main hub for the last two weeks. The twins of Tatioone blazed above upon him, being an Arkanain being this had led to some precautions on his part. Primarily his usual black lensed spectacles had been replaced by similarly black lensed goggles that encased his eyes firmly. His attire had changed accordingly now adorning lose fitting linen trousers and shirt both shades of beige. These hang loose on his lath frame, over his shoulder to the surprise of many he wears a long trailing coat similar in design to those worn by the native Tuskens. Some may find this, somewhat, distasteful but one couldn’t fault the Tuskens on their knowledge of their home.
The dig was in its third week. The compound had been built around the site, inside the ruins of an old town it seemed. Make shift compound of tents and equipment shelters, with enough space to land a fair sized transport vessel. All surrounded by the walls of the original town reinforced with a few imported plate steel attachments and a new gate house for the supply caravan. Workers dart back and forth, most paid labour mules for the most part the only one with any true understanding of what they were doing here was himself and his…partner.

“Doctor!”

Galen Valts. A plump looking human waved him over to a canopy tent overlooking the dig site. The big site being a large area being excavated by the numerous worker. Mandrayk strolls over and takes a seat in a canvas chair next to the patron of the dig, the man is dressed in a slightly tightfitting suit of fine white and a light blue shirt. He fans himself regularly with a mall fan between his thick fingers. The man was the patron and his partner on this dig they both had an interest in what they beneath the sand. Mandrayk needed Galen's funds and the Galen needed Mandrayk's skills, it was simple arrangement. The scans had confirmed their beliefs, this was where it lay. It would be invaluable to Mandrayk’s works and no doubt worth a small fortune to the right buyer. However he doubted it would so simple. Galen was a wastrel that’s much was clear, plump on a life of luxury. He had connections , a wealthy family, it was his security that patrolled the site keeping things in line and keeping an eye out for Tusked raiders. He doubted he would be simply allowed to walk away at the end of this. Good. It was starting to get boring waiting like this. Would be a welcome distraction, should make things far more interesting.

“Care for a drink?”

“Ah indeed, tea with lemon shall be welcome.”

He was quickly handed a small cup and he supped at it gratefully. He overlooks the site, now 6.7 meters deep they would soon reach it. He was running out of time. Though he was not worried, he had made a few preparations. They would soon need transport for the items they no doubt would recover and he had voiced he knew of company that would best suited to the task. The Galactic Trade Commission. He had neglected to mention his own involvement of the company. Best not to shown one hand as they say in pazzak he believed. He had sent a small message to Lisara Novar, he trusted she would be most useful in this situation. He had also taken care to send a holo image and use his current given name Doctor Larkin Marr, and had merely stated the details that he was in need of cargo transport and left the appropriate coordinates. He trusted she would understand. He takes another sip of his drink, overlooking the workers as they toiled away, his mind returned to what lay beneath them.

Inside the camp a hive of actively is erupting, workers of varying races are away from the main big site. The mid sun’s forcing the workers to seek shelter s was the norm on site. The constant murmur of different languages hangs in the air as does too the blazing heat. Some pass Lisara as she ventures further into the camp, those not initially exhausted from there days toil throw out the occasion cat call or make the odd comment to their fellows.

Word travels fast, soon guards appear form the sides. They don’t approach but are clearly keeping an eye upon her. Slowly the work force drudge there way to their tents. The most elaborate structure stands out, erected amongst the ruined pillars of some older structure a large marquee stands. At its centre a small wooden table has been set up, as well as three lounge chairs. A plump human sits fanning himself, flanked by two guards. On the table is a silver tray upon which is large jug of flavoured iced water and two glasses. The group eyed Lisara as she approaches, one of the guards leans in and whispers hurriedly. The seated man’s brow narrows.
“So…you are the ‘transporter’ Dr Marr mentioned.” He lets out a sigh and continues to fan his jowly face more rapidly. “You attack the staff of your employer often then..hhmmmmm?” He adds with a thick sarcastic tone.

Mandrayk’s brown leathers shoes ding into the sand as he makes his way from the dig site. His lose fitting linen attire fluttering about him. He had seen Miss Novar’s ship pass overhead. He adjusted the wrappings he had about his head, completely covering his face, a similar simple method used but the worker during the dig. Things were in motion it seems. The excavation was going well, they had unearthed an access point. The Czerka Corporation once had numerous facilities upon Tatooine. What they were doing here was not widely known, or rather admitted, though the rumours and various finds over the years had led to some very interesting conclusions. He had spent a considerable time requiring this particular sites location. He was in need of a patron, excavation were not cheap escapades. He very much doubted that Galen would simply spare the spoils as it where, though that glutton fool could not possible appreciate their truth worth. His ebony lensed gaze fell upon a figure in the distance by Galen tent no less. Sky blue armour hugged a sleek womanly figure, fiery red hair seemingly in contest with the razing heat. Her body language even at this distance spoke droves. No doubt Galen was falling victim to Lisara’s sharp tongue. He chuckles lightly to himself, how wonderfully picturesque. As he approaches, he slowly begins to remove the rudimentary wrapping about his face.

“So where is Doctor Marr? I believe I was told to report to him.”

"Aahhh! Miss Lisara Novar, highly recommended...A tongue almost as sharp as her blades." The words seemingly roll of his tongue in his smooth seemingly chilled tone. The final length of the wrapping falling away, revealing his pale, sculptured features. Miss Borgia had always insisted he was more, pretty, than handsome. He couldn’t help but smile lightly it had been a while since he had thought of that chapter of his life. He lightly brushes his lose white hair behind his ears as he enters the small pergola, he places the wrapping down upon the table and turns to face Miss Novar. A welcoming smile spread across his face. He bows in an elegant motion. “A pleasure to finally meet you in my dear. I am Larkin Marr. Your reputation precedes you it seems” A quick glance at Galen’s reddening face had told him as much. “Now, Now, what kind of hosts are we” He turns to one of the free staff. “Get Miss Novar a seat and a glass for that matter, we have much to discuss”
A seat is soon brought as well a glass. Overlooking the site Mandrayk sits in his usual cross-legged leisurely fashion. Galen nibbles at a small bowl of fresh fruit brought to him and overlooks the data pad Mandrayk had handed him. The glasses of iced flavoured water are placed on the table, Galen taking great gulps and Mandrayk small delicate sips, his own gaze drawn away from the table.
“So” Galen speaks not looking up from the pad or meeting eye with the Lisara. “How much can your ship hold, how secure would it be? etc etc”

Galen suddenly draws his eye's from the data pad. His eye's move to Mandrayk. Mandrayk returns the gaze leisurely. Alas Galen was a paranoid man, but stupid none the less. The man no doubt was being protective of the find, truth be told he was near bankruptcy. Ironic that he thought Lisara the potential traitor, though Galen himself Mandrayk had on good authority was planning to leave him for dead at least. All this betrayal and deceit, it did make life so much more interesting. He could help but smile as he over looked the site.
“Our business is our own! You will be paid that’s all you need to know”
Alas Galen was a man of little tact nor a man who understood the gentle art of diplomacy. If he weren’t for his presence, he hoped, he doubted Galen would survive this encounter. Well perhaps that would be for the best in a way. No. Not yet at least. He turns in his seat t face Galen

“Galen please, remember, she is our guest. But no doubt you are weary, you have much on your mind. Pray study the data in private and enjoy your lunch I shall take care of the details.” Mandrayk offered in a smooth tone, Galen simply nodded. “I’ll leave this with you Doctor…my men will be around in case…” He eyes Lisara.

Mandrayk was a voice of reason in all of this, strangely he trusted him. A shame he would have to have him killed, he needed that credits and he owed many debts. Perhaps he could work something out; this smuggler had him on edge. Standing he collects his drink and makes his way to his private quarters, the two guards in toe.

Leaving, more importantly, Lisara and he, alone. The guards now gone, and the numerous workers all within their shelters during the mid-day heat. Everything had happened as he had expected. Good. He leans back in his chair, his left hand plucks a slice of fruit from the bowl left by Galen, he sinks sharpened teeth into its flesh. It tastes crisp and fresh. He savours the taste.
“We are excavating an old Czerka Corporation complex; I assume you have heard the so called rumours of the abandoned here. Though those of the right mind know full well they are more than just rumour and myth” He chuckles, a deep almost purr of a sound. “No doubt you can guess this by my presence here. However this site is of interest in-particular, old records suggests this was a holding facility for some of their research and wares. Beneath the sands lay materials and items that to the right collector are worth a great, great deal” Though what Mandrayk was seeking was worth far more to him then mere credit. “That is why I am here, however I am fully aware that Galen, has little interest in sharing this, he most likely has plans to kill me at some point. Out here it is the ideal place. He has many a debt, his men are working on last of his resources. Being but a mere Doctor, I came to the conclusion you would be most fitting to assist in this situation. Any thoughts, my dear?” He sips his drink delicately.

Mandrayk leans his head back as he laugh, his sharp pointed teeth on display. “Poison indeed a delightful idea, something of elegant method. Not to mention such things have a delicious connection to intrigue, deceit and even romance. Funny …isn’t it how a deadly substance is idealised so in some respects.” He seems lost in his own thoughts for a brief moment. Truth be told he had already something in motion. “In regards, to your payment. I agree, no point debating that point this is your line of business. I expected nothing les of you. You are fully aware it seems I am in need of your help, and as such are making sure your needs are met. That’s why I find you such delightful company my dear” He chuckles lightly and takes another sip from his glass.

Mandrayk reaches into the lose folds of his jacket and produces a slim data pad and places it upon the table, a pair of guards pass by eyeing the unusual pair then pass by. “We will be breaching to complex tomorrow, a small excavation crew has already been selected my self-included. I will discuss this with Galen, it may be beneficial if you accompany us I believe. I have been led to understand that it is something of common practise for people of your trade to….‘expect’ the merchandise, as it were.” He smiles slightly, a pleasant expression upon his sculpted features. “On that data pad you will have simple…’necessary’ information as well as a few extra items you might find interesting” Referring to a few items such as predicted storage space needed, some other information about the guards, map of the site and a few other helpful bits of information. Mandrayk sips his drink, if Miss Novar had any other enquires or requests he was sure she would voice them.

“Hmm? Galen is a fool, I doubt he would truly suspect you; for the right reasons. His paranoia is something of a blessing. It distracts him from the truth I’ve found. He has far less enemies than he would like to believe.” Mandrayk had studied Galen for a time, like most he had his weaknesses and he had taken particular note of these. As Lisara had stated he was in need of an upper hand. He had an idea already in mind. “However if you do think it is best you not attend then so be it, you have more experience in these matters” He pinches another another piece of fruit from the bowl between two of his clawed fingers and takes another refreshing bite. Galen may be a fool but he had decent tastes, after finishing the small morsel he continues. “For now we can do little but wait till tomorrow, the initial excavation will clarify much. I am needed still; as such my security is assured for the time being. Unless you would like a tour of the site I’m afraid I can offer little else at this time.” In truth things were already in motion, if they we’re to succeed certain tension would have to be applied. He takes another sip of the refreshingly cold water.

He chuckles lightly at Lisara's remark. Wonderful. Everything was developing wonderfully. However Lisara indeed had risen an interesting point, a certain level of ‘trust’ was needed for this to continue. Galen was indeed a fool, a desperate one at that. The complex, from what he initial scans had indicated, was of moderate size. No doubt a initial storage faculty, few knew what the corporation was working on out her on Tatioone, even Mandrayk knew little of there works, expect one item. This was the true reason for his presence here, the other items where of worth to the right buyer but it meant little to him. If he could obtain it. He clasps his drink and sips its refreshing contents. He gazes off into the distance, his dark lensed goggles masking the glint in his milky white orbs. I trust building exercise was needed it seemed, he had already made arrangements.
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The transports arrived every month, carrying supplies and various items ordered to the dig site. Rillian had gotten a tip off from his contact, seems they were shipping out some pretty specific containers and equipment this month. The transports would be stopping over at a station near Mos Ila. Sure the contents of the transports would be worth something but Rillian had his eyes on something bigger, from what he had heard the transports where heading to some dig site. Whoever was shipping all this out must have found something worthwhile, this was the big times. The Sith had been on his ass since they’d begun to be more daring during there raids on transports. One more job and there could move on, one more big score and they’d be able to take off. Maybe move around a bit, perhaps even try and get their own ship.
A grunt to his right broke him from his thoughts. The transports where near the canyon, he and half of the group waited in what cover they could find. There speeder bikes standing by, all dressed in lose fitting protective clothing against the scorching heat. Graff followed the transports with a pair of binoculars. Shuffling behind him told him the others were moving about for better vantage point, everyone was on edge. This was the big one; they all had something riding on it, debts, loved ones or simply greed.

“Has Jack jumped ‘em yet?” Come’s a mummer from Graff’s side. A growl from Graff silenced the remark as he continued to track the small three vehicle convoy. Jack had taken the other half of the group and had been working as escorts for the transports for the last 3 months. The plan was simple, when they hit the rendezvous point they’d turn on the other members on the convoy the rest of them would swoop in and take over. From there they could drive the rest of the way to the compound and well. A broken toothed grin spread across his face. Well they had their skills. The convoy stopped dead in its tracks. All of then noted and tense, hands went to weapons and a few even made their way towards there speeders. Graff quickly raised his hand to silence them, they all here it. The sharp crack of a solid slug round. Quickly zooming he notes a limp body of a drive thrown from the side door. Soon the convoy is in up roar, their own men and women clashing with the guards. “GO!” Graff bellows and send everyone scrambling towards the bikes. Soon the full hidden host burst from there covers towards the warring transports. Rillian, leading the charge. Graff close behind.

The remaining guards are short work for the group as they reunite, not a single casualty there side. It was good Graff couldn’t argue that, but something didn’t seem right. They’d had a run of bad luck a broad as a Bantha lately and all of a sudden something like this came up. Graff grumbled to himself as he strips the clothing off one of the larger guards. Graff had known Rillian for a long time. Rillian was a street smart that was for sure, but the man dreamt big. Many too big? Graff had already asked where he’d gotten the tip off but he just brushed it off. Maybe, he considered, he was just getting paranoid. But. Things seemed to be happening to smoothly for his liking. The beaming smile of Rillian as he clambers to his side in the transport awakens him from his thoughts, the group was ready. Most had stolen outfits and now took the places of the drivers and there escorts, some hiding in the back amongst the cargo, the rest would hang back for the signal. Setting off out the canyon they head towards the compound marked out on the map.
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Night had fallen and with it the temperature, a few guard patrol the outer patched walls, a single turret overlooking the main gate. All had settled down for the night, a few hours of work continued after dark to take advantage of the cooler air. Though tonight it mostly concerned the movement of the heavy machinery from the access point, the main excavation was to take place tomorrow. Mandrayk was settled in his own quarters, a heavy canvas tent serving as his study. He sits at his desk, a few items strewn across the table, each careful tabled and catalogued. Still in his lose fitting clothing, he over looks his research so far. He gazes at the small time indicator upon a small gauntlet upon his wrist.
A sudden burst of activity sounded by the gate. Mandrayk stood and adjusted his attire. They were late.

Guards dashed to and through as the transports came into view, preparations where made as they approached. The gate slowly swing open, the three lumbering transport’s came to a halt in a small quad once lined by large walls now crumbling remains. The turret as usual was swung around towards the transports as a few workers step forward to retrieve the cargo and then the quartermaster step forward to finished, what was usually a routine process. Graff tensed, this was the moment.

The quester master approaches slowly over looking his data pad, safe in the knowledge all was the same as usual. Not fully paying attention he opens the back of the lead transport, a sudden blast sends his sprawling to the floor, the side of his a bloody mass mutilated tissue. The transports suddenly become ablaze with fire as the occupants opened fire as too the guards once the initial shock wears off. Graff burst from his seat and sends a grenade spiralling towards the turret make shift launcher. The compound explodes into motion, guard swarm to the site and workers begin to stir an panic and the guards upon the walls shout out the approach of speeder and more armed raiders.

Rillian’s eyes go wide when the ‘thunk’ upon the bonnet drew his gaze to the small charge that had landed upon it.

“Shii..”

Diving from the transport he sends he and Graff sprawling to the group, as an explosion tears apart the front portions of the transports. Those that hadn’t the time to disembark are caught in the ensuing explosion. The first transports lurches upon its side, groaning a metallic roar that echoes off the canyon walls. The front section completely decimated from the charge. The second transport still in the process of emptying its cargo of raider’s, lurches upwards, the charge landing to the side of the transport. The sudden eruptions send shrapnel spiralling out in all directions scything those from both sides unlucky enough to be in its bath. A few moments f silence ensue as all eyes are drawn to the sudden brutal counterattack. Then all erupts again and the two sides exchange fire, the survivors of the first two transports rushing to aid the others of the third and of their incoming reinforcements.

Coughing and spluttering Rillian raise’s from atop Graff both spitting mouths full of sand, brushing off small pile of sand and the few pieces of debris that covered there forms. Rillian looked about half dazed by the blast, Graff on the other hand quickly reclaims his wits and claps his grenade launcher and his dazed leader and quickly guides him to cover and a small gathering of his fellow raiders. Quickly surveying the scene it appeared the initial shock of the assault had begun to wear off, the raiders had struck hard and fast and as such the shock and awe effect had served them well some teams even getting further into the camp. Now, sowing chaos as they went. But now the privately hired forces began to regroup, there attack beginning to slow to a crawl as they met with the the now organised forces. Though lose of the transport had been a large hit to suffer, they couldn’t give up now. They all needed this!