Mission Type: Assassination
Mission Rank: C-Class
Location: Port Ol'val
Marick. It's Ronnie. Happy to hear from me? I hope so. All those days spent on New Tython had to have further established our bond of friendship.
Anyway, I'm messaging you from Estle City, where I've just spoken with good ol' Wuntila. While we're all trying to get over the loss of two of our fine brothers (that memorial was really something, huh?), he's told me to relay this message to you. It seems that a few Odanites, since the massive loss they endured during the war, have gone a bit rogue in hopes of causing further repercussions in our forces. In this case, we've got details on a Jedi who's made his way to Ol'val.
Now don't worry - he's not with Odan-Urr anymore, so we don't have to fret about that beat up group trying to tie us down. But he's certainly gone rogue and it seems like he wants to punish us for our bloodshed. From last we heard, he decided to break into Mal Company's legions under the pretense that he's a spy and a top notch pirate. But we both know his true intentions - find a way to poison Mal superiors to side with the Jedi, and render our dominion in Dajorra vulnerable. And neither of us want that, do we?
I've provided the data we've got on our fine Jedi friend on this pad. They'll be the most important details to follow. Take a look:
Target: Zell Francowitz
Weight: 210 lbs
Profession: Rogue Jedi; Guardian (Former)
Power Ranking: Equite 3
Strength: **** (4/5)
Dexterity: *** (3/5)
Charisma: *** (3/5)
Force Powers: *** (3/5)
Mastery of Makashi and Shii-Cho
You got all that? So you know the drill: Get rid of this guy. Of course, you won't be going alone. Talos has asked that his apprentice also go with you. You know her - Socorra, the Jedi Hunter. She'll be dropped off in Ol'val next morning, so meet her in Jerem to plot your next move. And before you tell me I'm in no shape to give you orders...don't make me send the Blue Dragon on ya, if you know what I mean. (Wink)
Best of luck, Marick. And if all goes well, I'll treat you to a nice...well, glass of water. Over and out.
Socorra perused the vendor stalls in the Jerem plaza of Port Ol’val, idly looking at the various wares they contained. Some were like stepping into another time period, with old relics from the Old Republic and Galactic Empire littering their shelves. She had to laugh at what some tried to pass off as “authentic” war pieces. Nothing more than cheap replicas some sucker would eventually buy.
Her pale azure eyes peered up and watched Marick walk up to the vendor stall, unable to miss the Hapan’s strikingly handsome looks. His Force signature was slightly familiar, having felt it a few times on the battlefields of New Tython and the various Summit meetings she was privileged enough to partake in.
“What are you listening to?” he asked, noticing her ear monitors peeking out through her long, raven hair. Having studied Socorra’s dossier, Marick expected it to be some mathematics course or studying a new language, something that would enhance her encyclopedic mind.
“They’re called ‘30 Lightyears from Corellia,’” the young Journeyman replied candidly, her Socorran accent rolling gracefully off her tongue. She removed an earbud and offered it to him. “Gotta say, the singer is pretty hawt...for an old guy.”
Marick’s stoic expression remained flat-lined, and he declined her offer with a dismissive gesture, unamused by her urban banter. He studied her now in person as closely as he had studied her dossier, gauging the Journeyman and her seriousness...or lack thereof.
He could clearly see two DL-18s strapped to her thighs, and he noticed, when she moved just slightly, what may be the outline of a lightsaber in an arm holster hidden within her jacket sleeve. It did appear to be the only place to conceal it; her urban attire was mostly form-fitting with skinny knee-high boots, fishnet pantyhose and boy shorts plus skirt and tank top underneath the jacket.
Extremely atypical of a Dark Jedi, but it worked well for a shadowport such as Port Ol’val.
Socorra caught him analyzing her physically and through the Force, and though Marick clearly had zero sense of humor, she made one last attempt at it just to get them moving, and for her to find out what they were there for.
“I’m on the clock. If you’ve got the money, I’ve got the time.”
Talos would have laughed at the callgirl joke, and that itself made it worth saying.