The Firro station, the Federation's one stop shop for just about anything one could want, both legal and illegal, so long as one knew where to look. Crystala was under no illusions that a lot of shady, underworld type deals happened on the station, despite the best efforts of the ISIS however there were times simply turning a blind-eye to such activities paid off in spades and pretending to not catch some of it allowed for a false sense of security by the criminal elements and thus allowed the ISIS to much more easily track movement of goods and find hideouts and the like.
Walking through the station's perimeter, she approached a particular shop. Outer Rim Rigs and Runners was one of the many places on the station that sold starships of all sorts, even Imperial TIEs, so long as one had a good enough reputation and was willing to do some back room talking. The NIF cracked down on those illegal sales pretty hard, even the since obsolete TIE Fighter, if only because if these sorts of deals were allowed, it'd only be a matter of time before a more precious and advanced TIE model, like the Avenger, Mk III Interceptor or Defender showed up somewhere and the NIF didn't need those on the black market more than they possibly were already.
Entering the shop, she looked over at the porky man behind the counter. "Ah welcome to my shop," he began, coming out from around it with a big salesman grin on his face. Crystala smiled back with the same menace, not willing to let this shark think he ws playing with just another fish. He gave her a good look, the black bodysuit she wore with the black jacket and white fur trim, fur rimed knee high boots and utility belt making her look like a combination spy and pilot with a flair for fashion. Truth be told, it was under the advice of another agent she was talking with that she was only wearing this ridiculous get up.
'Gotta look like you know a thing or two about ships,' were his exact words, she recalled, wondering who in their right mind would wear such a thing. Still, it seemed to have the positive effect of distracting the man, sex appeal always helping cloud the minds of men, save the most determined and focused and this one seemed to be on the border.
"Looking for a ship I take it?" he asked rhetorically.
Crystala nodded. "Yes," she began, "Old one got wrecked by a pointer." Her crash course in how to look like a starfighter veteran also included a quick primer on starfighter slang and pointers were the names Imperial pilots called X-Wings. Crosses were B-Wings, wishbones were Y-Wings, edges or slims were A-Wings and bloody-annoying-and-hard-as-nails were K-Wings. She figured he made up the last part on the spot but hopefully she'd be able to get by with the known ones alone.
"My condolences. What were you flying before?"
"Headhunter." There was slang for that one, but Crystala forgot it at this particular moment and didn't want to hesitate too long.
The man chuckled. "Probably for the best. It's about time you upgraded to something a little more useful and up-to-date, unless you like Headhunters."
"Was all I could afford at the time. Now I have some credits saved up so I can upgrade to something a little more durable."
"Well, come with me and I'll show you what I've got. Bear in mind, a lot of these ships are used but I have refurbished a lot of 'em so they're 'like new'." Already Crystala could taste the lies he was spouting but she played along as he lead her out to the showroom floor where a bunch of different starfighters were all laid out. She recognized them from the quick lessons given, and was surprised at the number of "uglies" being shown. "So, what sort of work do you use your fighter for miss..."
"Wolfe," Crystala finished, using an alias. "Primarily counter-piracy work. Pirates hit transports, steal cargo. I work with an outfit that hits the pirates and takes the cargo back." It was actually a fairly fascinating line of work and there was a lot going for it, especially with pirate attacks on the rise. Corporations, governments and even wealthy individuals were paying large sums of credits for mercenaries to go retrieve their stolen cargo. The ISIS helped out in this regard as well, having vested interests in finding pirate bases while also helping to further protect NIF convoys and, on the off chance a group of pirates did make off with Federation goods, get them back for a fraction of the cost it would have been to send the navy and army to do the job.
"Ahhh," he began, "So you're not looking for any of these snubs here, no, no, no! What you need is over here in this room!" He lead her to a connecting showroom where a Y-Wing was sitting proudly, an astromech beneath it simply drawing figure-eights on the floor until they approached closer where the R4 droid approached them and chirped a greeting. "Here we go. Koensayr Manufacturing Y-Wing. Heavy armour, reliable shields, large payload and comes complete with an ion cannon."
Crystala frowned. "Handles like a dead space slug too," she pointed out.
"Well, yes. But most assault craft do. Besides, you can't beat the price. Seventy thousand!"
"I'd like to think my talents are worth more than that." She smiled inwardly, not at the self-assurance but at the hidden irony of her statement. "What else do you have?"
"Well," he glanced around, the droid letting out a low, mournful tone at what couldn't have been its first rejection. "If you're that talented, I do have an A-Wing up for offer."
"Don't misunderstand me. I still need durability. Those uglies you sell people back there are still plenty threatening in large groups that these pirates tend to employ and I need something that isn't made out of eggshells." Crystala didn't want to come out and say what she was after but it seemed she was going to have little choice in the matter if this kept up. "You don't have a K-Wing do you?"
"Actually," he began, much to her surprise. "I do have one, though it's really stripped down and is missing the turrets as well as a section of its wing. I'd be willing to sell it to you for a huge discount though, as is."
"Tempting, though then I'd need a crew and I prefer to fly solo."
"Then I might have one more option up your alley." He paused and then added quickly, "I'm assuming you're still interested in military grade hardware since you didn't blanch at the Y-Wing."
"If the price is right," she smiled, feeling like she was making progress. Crystala was lead to another part of the large shop where a B-Wing was sitting, the long nearly sixteen meter airfoil making it look like half of a wing was assembled and then the engineers ran out of credits to put another wing of equal size on so they slapped on the engine into the wing and, added a pair of small s-foils, guns and called it a starfighter.
"How about this?" the salesman asked, arms extended as he presented it to her. "New Republic B-Wing heavy assault fighter. Three laser cannons, one ion cannon- useful for disabling those pirates you want to retrieve cargo from- a quad autoblaster and dual torpedo launcher with sixteen missile capacity. Working class two hyperdrive and," he paused, gesturing to the cockpit, "This is actually the E-model so it has an extended cockpit, useful for a passenger or a co-pilot who could help handle some of the extra ordnance. I know you say you like flying solo, but I've heard from other pilots that having a gunner really helps them out a lot when it comes to managing everything."
Nodding, Crystala smirked at the last comment. "I suppose, but I think I can handle it." Knowing she had finally come to the right ship, she asked, "So what are you asking for it?"
"One-hundred and fifty thousand credits." Crystala looked at the man and frowned. He held his hands up, bidding her to hear him out as to why. "This ship was in far from good condition when it was brought to me. I had to redo the engine, replace one of the laser cannons, rewire the entire sensor suite, fix the gyroscope five times and replace quite a bit of the hull." Taking another glance, it appeared that he was telling the truth though he either missed a couple spots or figured some light laser scoring wasn't consequence enough for him to bother spending the credits replacing.
However, a quick peer into his mind revealed that there was more to it than he was willing to fess to. Crystala scowled. "How about the S-foils? Do they operate properly?"
"Yep." He was a professional through and through, for that Crystala had to admire his ability to stay cool and lie as easily as he told the truth. "The ship is still space worthy and operates just fine, but I'll tell you what, I like you and how about if you let me take you out to dinner, I'll knock off ten-gees from the price."
That made her smirk a little. She gave him a quick once over as though seriously considering his proposal before she stared into his brown eyes and, with a subtle wave of her hand by her side, said, "How about you give it to me for one-twenty?" His mind, finely honed as it was to lie and deceive, was powerless against the Force and the subtle manipulations of simple mind tricks and even as she spoke, she could already feel his resolve seem to completely fade.
"How about one-twenty?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as though he had come up with that reasonable offer himself.
"That sounds reasonable," Crystala nodded in agreement. While she probably could have used her powers to get the ship for free, and had him run around stark naked through the Firro, she doubted the others in the Omega Order would be as amused or impressed. It would only garner undue attention and Crystala was sure that, despite her pseduo disguise, which she really couldn't call it one since she hadn't bothered to disguise herself so much as put on a different outfit, someone would recognize her and cause trouble down the road.
"Good!" he smiled. "You need financing or-"
From her belt, Crystala pulled out a large wad of credits in the ten-thousand denominations. "Creds, in full." His jaw dropped briefly before it was picked up off the floor as a part of his mind worked on figuring out how he could simply take the credits, write off the B-Wing and pocket everything without paying a credit in tax from the sale to the Firro or the Feds. "Is there a problem with that?"
"Oh no, not at all," he said with barely contained glee. "Why don't you come with me, we'll get the documentation settled and I'll hand you the codes so you can fly it out of here today!" He turned and started making for his office, leaving Crystala wide eyed suddenly as she glanced back at the B-Wing with a white gaze.
I knew I overlooked something!
Buy your wares at the Firro Exchange.
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Joined: 2008-04-20 16:59
Joined: 2008-04-20 16:59
Custom Title: Director-General & Dark Jedi Archon
Organizational Unit: ISIS (in its entirety)
Location: Echo-class cruiser, Observer
"Dagger of the ISIS? No, I am the hand that wields it!" - Director-General Endivain
"The quickest way to find the needle, burn the haystack!"
"The quickest way to find the needle, burn the haystack!"