meeting the contactsthe_measurersDecember 23 2010, 10:27:16 UTC
It's cold in the run down abandoned farmhouse. Whoever lived here no longer does, but there's still frozen animal shit on the ground. The men and women who greet you are a haggard bunch. They've had to hide for years. They're twitchy and clearly resent having to call for help from outsiders.
A heavy man with a rough black beard and dark eyes introduces himself as Yoseth. He saw his wife marched off to prison for celebrating Grendlsdag, the old, pagan celebration. His children were sent to live with others. He himself pretended to convert, to become loyal. All this time though, working as a servant and mechanic for the grey men who now rule his world, he and his comrades have been finding things out.
Such as a list of the Senter Klauses, their schedules, and most importantly, which ones were to be assigned to important men and women in the government.
This, he explained, would be the perfect opportunity to strike fear into the hearts of the loyalist government. The locals would be joining them, where possible, and embarking on a distraction operation where not. A "failed" robbery would suffice, they thought.
You have your mission: find your assigned Senter Klaus. Kill them when they come down for a break. Take their ID, their sleigh, and their presents. Go down the chimneys of these powerful men. And stuff their stockings. Permanently.
Mirys looked at the slip of paper she was handed with her own assignment and the relevant details, then back to Yoseth. She had but one question:
"So," she began, "with these Klaus guys, leave them to be found or hide them? It doesn't really matter to me either way, but if you've got a specific way you want it done, you might as well tell us before this whole operation really kicks off."
Yoseth put a finger to his beard. "You might as well keep them in the cab with you. It's pretty cold, they won't start to stink for a few days. Unless you're squeamish, in which case Tarja lake is a popular spot for that kind of thing." He said, pointing at a lake just outside the city on the yellowed map. It was clear from his tone of voice that only prancing nancys got squeamish about having a body in their sleigh cab.
The girl snickered, just a bit, finding the tone of his response somewhat amusing.
"I can deal with that," she answered, hardly being squeamish about it at all and, in fact, seeming almost accustomed to this kind of thing. More than likely, her question was simply for the clarification rather than of any kind of concern.
Re: meeting the contactsallmylovenspaceDecember 23 2010, 21:33:35 UTC
"You can't be serious!" Ai responded. "I did not sign up to kill people! Especially not on Christmas, while pretending to be Santa Claus. Haven't the Fay'lia done enough killing? And doesn't this planet deserve to have a Christmas full of peace, where no one is assassinated?"
Re: meeting the contactsthe_measurersDecember 23 2010, 23:57:36 UTC
A blocky, severe woman scoffed. "The Senter Klauses have killed so many good comrades over the years. We're just giving them a taste of their own medicine. But I suppose if you can't take it, we could assign you to the distraction operation. You wouldn't technically have to kill anyone there."
Re: meeting the contactstop_teen_38December 23 2010, 23:27:46 UTC
Slobo listened to the plan, a sadistic grin growing as he heard the details. This was a job perfect for someone with his gray morality and love of violence. Although something about killing Santa reeked oddly of deja vu...
Luke wasn't familiar with this holiday; there weren't many all-encompassing ones in the wider galaxy, most beings celebrating only those that applied to them. And he was pretty sure Boonta was mostly a Hutt fabrication.
Still, it made him a little uncomfortable, looking at the scrap of paper with the target's name and other information in his gloved hand. Luke had to remind himself that the Force would have let him know if what he was doing wasn't what it intended, and that in the end it would help in the fight to keep the Fay'lia from doing what Palpatine had always wanted.
"Do we... have to kill them?" he still asked, just to be sure. "Can't we find a way to get them to change allegiances?"
"Well, I could," Luke said thoughtfully. "Though I don't know how long an effect a mind trick actually has. I suppose as long as the suggestion's planted deeply enough..."
Yoseth waved his fingers dismissively. "Whatever Don Cannongia. I'll believe it when I see it." Mentally he crossed Luke off his list of likely survivors...Right below himself.
Ba'al studied the information on the paper, memorized it, then tucked it in his pocket and resumed scowling and rubbing his hands in the cold. He hated cold weather, always had - perhaps his Canaanite host had a hand in that, but mostly Ba'al liked comfort and freezing to death simply wasn't a comfortable experience.
Assassination was not exactly on his list of talents, but he did at least have a dagger in his boot... and if bush came to shove, he had no compunction about stealing a weapon from someone else. Sneaking wasn't a problem. As much as he loved making an entrance, he knew the value of becoming more of a fly on the wall. This business of handling presents he dismissed. He was no benefactor.
Re: meeting the contactssardine_osirisDecember 23 2010, 23:45:01 UTC
Osiris smirked as he read the assignment. He had been bored as of late and it would be fun to take his time and enjoy this. It really had been too long since he had killed someone. The Jaffa's expression remained impassive as he stood just behind his Goa'uld master as Osiris chuckled.
Fran nearly gasped upon hearing the details of her covert mission. It was her life's guiding principal to preserve life, not to end it.
But, on the other hand, she had not been able to collect materials for her surgical work in ages. Surely there was a way to compromise between her entangled needs.
"Does it matter by which manner we eliminate these men?" Fran questioned. "I'd prefer not to kill anyone if possible..."
A heavy man with a rough black beard and dark eyes introduces himself as Yoseth. He saw his wife marched off to prison for celebrating Grendlsdag, the old, pagan celebration. His children were sent to live with others. He himself pretended to convert, to become loyal. All this time though, working as a servant and mechanic for the grey men who now rule his world, he and his comrades have been finding things out.
Such as a list of the Senter Klauses, their schedules, and most importantly, which ones were to be assigned to important men and women in the government.
This, he explained, would be the perfect opportunity to strike fear into the hearts of the loyalist government. The locals would be joining them, where possible, and embarking on a distraction operation where not. A "failed" robbery would suffice, they thought.
You have your mission: find your assigned Senter Klaus. Kill them when they come down for a break. Take their ID, their sleigh, and their presents. Go down the chimneys of these powerful men. And stuff their stockings. Permanently.
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"So," she began, "with these Klaus guys, leave them to be found or hide them? It doesn't really matter to me either way, but if you've got a specific way you want it done, you might as well tell us before this whole operation really kicks off."
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"I can deal with that," she answered, hardly being squeamish about it at all and, in fact, seeming almost accustomed to this kind of thing. More than likely, her question was simply for the clarification rather than of any kind of concern.
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"Alright, read me off who I gotta frag, Yo."
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Still, it made him a little uncomfortable, looking at the scrap of paper with the target's name and other information in his gloved hand. Luke had to remind himself that the Force would have let him know if what he was doing wasn't what it intended, and that in the end it would help in the fight to keep the Fay'lia from doing what Palpatine had always wanted.
"Do we... have to kill them?" he still asked, just to be sure. "Can't we find a way to get them to change allegiances?"
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Assassination was not exactly on his list of talents, but he did at least have a dagger in his boot... and if bush came to shove, he had no compunction about stealing a weapon from someone else. Sneaking wasn't a problem. As much as he loved making an entrance, he knew the value of becoming more of a fly on the wall. This business of handling presents he dismissed. He was no benefactor.
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"This is will certainly be amusing..."
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But, on the other hand, she had not been able to collect materials for her surgical work in ages. Surely there was a way to compromise between her entangled needs.
"Does it matter by which manner we eliminate these men?" Fran questioned. "I'd prefer not to kill anyone if possible..."
Reply
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