Dubrillion Fury

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She ended up walking out the front door in a company jacket, hat on, and she even waved to the droid receptionist. She had the original datastick around her neck, and two copies in her pocket. De'Ville jumped into an open roof speeder, hacked the steering column, and drove out of the parking lot.

She used the onboard navigation system to plot a course to the hotel Kazaar had mentioned. It was on the other side of the city, as advertised, and no doubt there was an entire garrison between it and her position.

There was smoke rising from somewhere a few blocks away: Kazaar's work no doubt. Perhaps he'd been turned into a greasy spot on the road. Probably not.

She accelerated down the road, found a looming road block and turned away. There was no way she was getting through a road block without drawing the attention of every Imperial in the warehouse district. After she drove around in a big circle, she had a pretty good idea where all the blocks were. Then she saw her options open up.

A river had had it's banks laid in duracrete, and it had just a trickle of water in it. De'Ville punched the accelerator and sent her speeder down the incline, driving right down the river. She didn't skimp on speed, traveling as fast as she could. If they were watching the canal then she'd deal with it, but the further she went the more it became obvious that she was going to make it.

Once the navigation system determined she was out of the industrial district, she gunned it over the bank, crashed through a weak fence, and swerved into traffic. The navicomp stuttered, recomputing the route, and then started feeding her directions again.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Found o'place he knew was o'front for Gorgja. Why th'frack Gorgja wanted a barber shop as o'main base for his operations was frackin' beyond Kazaar. Maybe 'cause not o'helluva lotta people'd look t'see what the frack was going on. Either way...if it didn't get him pinched...all he cared 'bout.

Barber nodded o'greeting. Kazaar'd been there few times over th'years an' apparently the barber had one o'those memories that never forgets o'face. O'frackin Tynnan which made no Force-damned sense, but for whatever reason Gorgja liked 'im. Didn't do o'bad job on hair either...not that Kazaar gave o'flyin' frack. Normally just made sure the damn thing didn't look bad before headin' out.

He was paid t'keep people alive an' kill Imps not win some kinda frackin' fashion show.

Sat down in th'barber's chair. "Gonna need it short. Also dye it."

Barber kinda *chittered* an' scurried t'where the dye was. Came back with o'couple bottles. One was blonde, a color Kazaar'd used o'couple times before.

Kazaar took o'look at it an' nodded. "Yeh. Throw some red innit too. Thing's gonna last 'bout o'week right? Might need 'bout that long."

Barber just nodded an' Kazaar gave o'smirk. "Good. Find me o'couple cigars too will ya..."

Thirty minutes later an' he was headed down th'street. Changed outta the shirt he'd lifted from the cook into just o'tank top. Dubrillion's climate was warm 'enough it wouldn't throw anyone off, but cool 'nough that Kazaar'd hafta change clothes at some point. Which he planned on doin' anyway.

Strode into o'cheap clothing store an' grabbed o'few shirts an' pants. Plaid button down anna black pullover. Black pants too. Paid in creds an' walked out.

Few miles later there was o'more expensive store which Kazaar saunterned into. Still wore th'tank top, which had t'piss off the Sephi behind th'counter. 'Course when he dropped 'bout 400 creds on clothing (including o'damn fine lookin leather jacket) the guy didn't bother complaining.

Took him a two hours t'drive to Renfield's Overlook. 'Course it was called that forra frackin' reason. Had o'helluva view of the many oceans on the planet. No flophouse but was the kinda place ya had 'least look like ya were makin' a decent wage to get in. Or 'least know someone who made o'fracking decent wage.

Kazaar almost swore this was like some kinda frackin' unrealistic spy-holo but had t'remind himself Dubrillion was o'pretty nice place. Only had o'few slums an' that'd probably be the first frackin' place the Imps would look. Far as those idiots were concerned, they were lookin' for two people who raised all sorts o'hell. Not the kind who raised hell, then went underground t'cause even more hell later.

'Sides, the ex bounty hunter smirked as he plopped himself down in o'smoking lounge. Renfield's was only ten or so klicks away from th'main Imperial base. And he an' Lady would sure as hell need t'cause problems there if they were gonna get th'frack off this planet.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Colorcrawlers were unique little droids that were cheap as hell to make and sold in packs at beauty stores. You threw them on your hair, or fur, and they'd crawl over the strands until you were sporting a new look. A hastily grabbed two pack of blonde and bright blue had resulted in an edgy, streaked look during the time it took to drive to Renfield's Overlook. De'Ville made a face at herself in the mirror, and pressed the control button in the packs that deactivated the colorcrawlers before they started looking for more hair to dye.

She parked on the street and walked to the hotel, lacking keys to throw at the valet and not wanting to deal with any more questions than she had to. In the lobby she strode right for the smoking lounge, sure that she'd either find Kazaar there, or perhaps no where. Maybe he'd been blown up.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Small dame came up t'De'Ville. Wore o'green dress which showed her chest an' legs.

"You must be Olympia." Voice was squeaky an' it was pretty obvious why th'hell she was wearin' the dress. "Pasco's in the back, waiting for you."

De'Ville raise o'brown eyebrow. Olympia? Pasco? Couldn't Kazaar think up o'some kinda name better'n that crap?!?

"How do you know I'm the one Pasco's looking for..." Her voice was sharp.

"Simple!" Dame's voice squeaked an' her blonde hair wobbled as if she'd been solving a complex problem. "You're tall. And flat. And ya look out of place here!"

She smiled as if she wanted t'get o'nice pat on the head for 'er deduction. "He's back there. Tell him his scotch is coming and we're sorry about being out of bourbon."

The dame walked off, accidentally bumping into a guy who was drinking from o'glass of beer. "Sorry!!" She leaned over. "I'll get you another one..."

De'Ville rolled 'er eyes an' headed towards th'back o'the lounge. Bith musician played o'flute, givin' the room o'weird sense o'levity to all those sittin' around smokin' and drinking. Seemed off for th'lounge but prob'ly made sense somewhere.

Didn't see Kazaar. Either th'blonde ditz was wrong or he was really hidin' well. She was 'bout ready t'leave when she spotted him smirkin' through o'buncha cigar smoke.

No frackin' wonder she didn't recognized 'im.

Hair was blonde, cut short an' pushed forward. Eyes were o'differnt color too (green). Still had that hunter's look to 'em but were almost smilin'. Kazaar'd ditched 'is normal black pants, shirt an' grey coat. Instead he was wearin' o'real nice blue turtleneck 'neath o'dark brown suit jacket. Dark brown pants too. Feet were still booted but not like th'rugged ones he normally wore.

Sure as hell looked more like o'businessman enjoyin' a drink than o'bounty hunter.

Waved De'Ville over an'pointed toward th'bag sittin' on the chair next t'him.

"New clothes. Change when ya get th'chance. Glad ya could make it."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Wouldn't miss it," she said, reaching down and retrieving the bag. "Any more bright ideas? I'll be right back."

De'Ville strolled to the refreshers and locked herself in a stall, quickly stripping and putting on the clothes Kazaar had provided. They were high quality: a pencil skirt and button up shirt that would make running for it pretty interesting. And, of course, three inch heels. She slipped the shoes on and stuffed her old clothes in the bag, shoving it into the trash. A pair of clear eyeglasses completed the look, transforming her into something more like a librarian than a Rebel spy.

She ran her fingers through her hair in the mirror, the blue streaks lending the librarian a bit of spunk, then rolled her eyes at herself and stalked out of the refresher. A bit of adjustment to her walk was needed with the shoes, and De'Ville had it down by the time she returned to the smoking lounge.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Thought ya might like th'sexy librarian look." Kazaar smirked an' drained his glass. "C'mon we're off forra walk."

Strode outta th'smokin' lounge, Kazaar ignorin' the plea from a silver protocol droid remindin' him that smoking was not allowed inside the hotel. Didn't matter anyway, they were outta th'hotel pretty quickly.

"Imps got their main base 'bout ten blocks from 'ere. Since those frackers are all lookin' for us down by th'starport...figured we could distract 'em o'bit."

He took o'puff from 'is cigar an' nodded at the couple Imp officers who seemed t'be off to some bar t'grab o'drink an' maybe some cheap dame.

"Feel like 'causing o'bitta mayhem..."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She stood silently, and then looked at him. "Oh, was that a question? What do you have in mind?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar snorted. "Smart ass."

They strode down o'durasteel an' crete street which made Dubrillion look like some frackin' hybrid of cultures between pre-and-post Old Republic. Th'Kid'd like it...an' Kazaar had t'admit, it wasn't that bad.

"Guy named Miggs runs blasters an' other heavy weapons. Ain't o'big fan of using someone I ain't familiar with, but m'old boss vouched for 'im. Hangs 'round some uppity high class frackin' joint named 'Mignola's Stones.'

"Figured we'd pop in, scope 'im out an' see if he's actually on the frackin' level. Grab some creds an' buy some weapons."

Lowered 'is voice an' smirked. "Hell if we had th'garb I'd say we knock over that Imp payroll station down th'street.

"Might not be o'bad idea one way o'the other."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She shrugged. "Depends on how long you want to stay here. Tweaking some powercells to overload and placing them around the city is a quick and dirty way to draw lots of attention and scattering it."

De'Ville raised an eyebrow. "It is dirty, though. Alliance wouldn't approve."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"If ya mean dirty by takin' out civies..." Kazaar took o'long puff off th'cigar. "I ain't o'fan of that. Don't need t'give the Empire any more Force-damned propaganda 'gainst us."

He shrugged an' stopped by o'speeder. "Keep an' eye out will ya..."

Fracked 'round with th'lock an' smirked when it popped open without an alarm goin' off. No light sayin' a silent alarm been activated either. Nice t'see o'bit o'frackin' luck.

"Get in." Got the speeder started without o'problem.

"Now if ya mean frackin' with some spice dealers and gettin' those bastards in trouble...I'm all f'that. Ain't o'bad idea."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Depends where we plant the devices. But there would be collateral damage." She turned her head to view the Imperial payroll building as they passed it. "We could start with one there, if you like. I'm not familiar with the underground element of Dubrillion, but if you know some lowlifes that need to get in trouble with the Empire I'm all for it."

Lilaena pressed a finger to her nose, rubbing underneath the bridge of the glasses. "Thermal detonators would be easier to use as a delayed explosive, but damned expensive and difficult to get a hold of." She leaned back in the seat. "I can rig the power cells though, I have done it before."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar drove th'speeder past th'payroll station. A restaurant with a buncha glass windows was next t'it on the left. On th'right looked like o'vehicle depot o'some kind.

"Could hit it by th'speeder hub...'cause o'lotta noise. Only guys who'd prob'ly die'd be Imps anyway."

Smirked. "Ya game f'that?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She shrugged, resisting the urge to adjust her glasses again. "It's acceptable. We will need other targets as well, so as to draw out the largest portion of responders and Stormtroopers." De'Ville pressed her lips together in a thin line. "I am sure we can find some suitable areas where civilian casualties will be low."

An hour later they were planting the last rigged set of power cells under the hood of another stolen speeder. De'Ville double checked the wiring to the simple chrono and then closed the speeder up and gave it a pat. "All set. Just set it to drive in on auto, we only have about six minutes before these all go off."

She grinned. "Give or take five minutes, of course. These are not exactly ... exact."