[ARC-COU] Coop Fiction: Monkey Suits Are Required?

Participants

• Celevon Edraven Erinos — PIN:12004
• Kharoc Garrlan — PIN:8505

Coruscant Hotel & Casino
Canto Bight, Cantonica, Outer Rim Territories
36 ABY; 1923 Hours, Local Time

The half-Echani was working the floor of the casino, pilfering trinkets and baubles from the gamblers dressed in their finery. What Celevon was actually after was a keycard to give him and his partner access to a restricted, but that didn’t stop him from helping himself to a pouch of credits here and there. He skimmed the surface thoughts of various workers as he came near them to see if they held one; there were too many people in the vicinity to spread the telepathy further.

Every so often, the Onderonian glanced back to see where his partner never ceased twitching. Kharoc Garrlan was not comfortable in crowds, much less so in what the Loyalist had complained and referred to as a ‘monkey suit with a necktie designed for self-asphyxiation’.

Celevon had gotten his hands on the keycard they required, stepped outside with the Arconan to give him a breather whilst going over the plan. Kharoc was in the midst of explaining how he would set demolitions to a power supply if it were needed when an explosion inside sent the pair of them to the ground.

Some of the Detonite Tape had slipped from Kharoc’s pocket as they fell. Unfortunately, the two were spotted by the Canto Bight Security Forces.

Rather than halting as they were ordered, certain that they would be held accountable, they fled into the nearby forest. Under pursuit and dodging blaster fire, they took to the trees in an attempt to confuse the Security patrol.

Unaware that members of each of their Clans had been captured during the explosion, the Jedi and the Loyalist ventured deep into the forest.

Kharoc’s Post

Kharoc was taking deep breaths, forcing his body not to hyperventilate as he crouched behind a tree, thanking whatever whim of fate had him select the compact and concealable WESTAR-35 blaster pistol as his sidearm of choice as opposed to something more bulky like a DL-44 or a Bryar pistol. The commando glanced over at the Jedi, who had his eyes closed in concentration as he leaned against another tree. Garrlan shook his head. Despite having spent years now working with Force-sensitives in Clan Arcona and later those in the Lotus resistance, he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the more mystical aspects.

Still, I’m certainly not going to look the gift nexu in the mouth, he mused to himself as the effect of Celevon’s mental efforts made themselves clear. The Jedi mentally redirected the Canto Bight security teams pursuing them to head deeper into the forest, their eyes and lights seemingly passing over their location.

It took everything within the commando to restrain the urge to fire as one of the security officers directed the spotlight precisely at his position for a second pass. Whether it was an illusion or some other trickery of their minds, a blaster bolt would give away their position; it wouldn’t stop the return fire, whether the security teams could see them or not.

Minutes later, the dragnet had passed by and Celevon opened his eyes, letting out a puff of effort and bowing his head. The Odanite recovered after a moment and raised his head back up, meeting the Arconan officer’s eyes as he drew a pistol from underneath his own jacket—a BR-5010, the weapons catalog in Garrlan’s brain reported. Slugthrower, capable of piercing most infantry armor with ease, but a wicked kick and limited internal ammunition storage. Shaking off the weapons-geek moment, Garrlan tipped his head back at the still brightly-lit city, the smoke from the earlier explosion having slowed to a trickle by this point. “So, what do you think; did someone else set off a contingency plan or did the security guys tumble to everyone?”

“I don’t think that was set by one of our people. Nor can I see Canto Bight security risking the lives of their clientele. Tourism and gambling are what keep this place on the map. Dead gamblers are bad for business; dead rich clients are even worse.” The half-Echani could feel his partner’s frustration growing at his lack of a real response. “I can see one of two options, both of them using that explosion as a distraction.”

The officer turned his gaze from the sky to the Jedi, an eyebrow lifting. “Oh?”

“The first option that comes to mind… using an explosion as a distraction whilst you pull off a heist. While everyone is dealing with the aftermath of the demolition, alarms going off, you steal whatever you’re here for. Credits, precious stones… whatever. Security forces assume the other alarm is due to the concussive blast. By the time they investigate the secondary or tertiary location, the heist is finished. The lack of chatter on their radios and the fact that they’re still searching for us tells me that wasn’t the objective.” Celevon noticed the look he was getting and snorted softly. “I wasn’t always a Jedi, Garrlan. And, despite what others may think, we’re not the blind monks that allowed hubris to set in. Most of those Jedi died in Order Sixty-Six and the Purges. One or two may have survived, but they’re a dying breed.”

Kharoc could accept this, as he doubted the Jedi of old would have carried slugthrowers that were meant to cause serious damage. Or the vicious looking kerambit he had spotted tucked into the back of Celevon’s belt when they were running into this forest. He was curious if it was a Spectre Dagger, maybe even the original, but it was not the time for that. “Not celibate, then, I take it?”

The half-Echani shot the Arconan an amused look. “I have two daughters, one of which is barely a month old. What do you think?”

Garrlan snorted in response, eyes narrowing as he recalled that his partner had said two options. “What’s the other scenario?”

“The demolitions were set by our enemy. They knew we would come here.” Even in the darkness under the thick canopy, silver eyes gleamed as Celevon turned grim. “Our people could be in trouble and we’re stuck evading security patrols.”

Kharoc’s Second Post

“And of course it’s going to fall to us to rescue them using our sum total resources of two men, a blade, two sidearms, and no explosives.” Garrlan shook his head. “Never a drop trooper battalion around when you need one.”

Celevon blinked at the apparent non sequitur. “Drop troopers?”

Garrlan shook his head, dismissing it. “Idle thought, sorry. It was a program the Empire was working on when I was in it; meshing the concepts of the vehicle drop pod and escape pod as a way to deliver infantry or special forces behind enemy lines. Think escape pods fired at high speed at a planetary surface with overpowered inertial dampeners and chemical rockets, of all things, to let the troops inside survive the impact.” Celevon shuddered and Garrlan nodded, smirking. “That was pretty much my reaction as well. I can see the tactical utility, but actually getting in to one? No thanks.”

The two men started moving closer to the edge of the forest, still using it for cover as they put distance between themselves and the security forces searching for them. Both men were dressed in dark clothes, which helped, but Garrlan couldn’t help but wish for the bulk of his armor and the weight of his repeater rifle.