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Partners in Crime: The Jivva Leea and Van Lingo story


VanLingo

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OOC:

Please read the Role Playing Guidelines before you post here.

Anyone's welcome to join.

 

IC:

Van Lingo's ale mug sat untouched on the table before him. He squinted in the afternoon light as beams of bright orange filtered into the ballroom. Tibanna clouds hung motionlessly outside the viewports.

 

Cloud City. Who in the worlds would ever want to live here? Of course, the fellow he was waiting for didn't actually live here; it was just a meeting spot. Guess I'd better leave another message...

 

He pulled out his holocom and dialed Jivva Leea's routing number. "Jivva, it's Lingo again... I'm still waiting in the East Ballroom. If you're in orbit, get your butt down here."

 

Hopefully, it wouldn't take too much longer for the assassin to show up... Lingo wouldn't be able to do this shipment without him.

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OOC: Oh, how I've been waiting for this... Thanks Lingo!

 

IC: The holocom lit up and hummed airily in the stillness of the dark cabin. No light came except from that of the holocom. The message played, "Jivva, it's Lingo again... I'm still waiting in the East Ballroom. If you're in orbit, get your butt down here."

In an instant, the cabin flew into life, lights activating and computers coming online. Jivva Leea was waiting for this message for days.

 

He dropped from the ceiling where he had been lying in a sling, idly passing time tweaking his blasters. Lingo had better be ready. When I get down to the surface, that shipment is going to have to move fast. It's going to be rough if we can't move it without being found out. He didn't want to stay long in Cloud City once he and Lingo were ready.

 

He punched some keys on the navigational controls and the ship began its descent to Cloud City's spaceport. As the ship made its way to dock, Jivva tossed his blasters aside, planning to take only one small, easily concealable holdout blaster with him. He had to be careful.

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OOC:

Yeah, man, jump in. Just make sure you read the guidelines first, so this doesn't become one huge jumble.

 

IC:

Lingo activated the datapad in front of him and scrolled through his ship's remote cargo manifest. The DC-17m rifles which lined the Grim Fandango's holds were high on the Empire's watch list. He'd need his piloting experience and Jivva's killer instinct to get the guns to their destination.

 

He double-checked the real-time log; they were scheduled to be on Nar Shaddaa within the week, then on to Tatooine, where he'd be paid and the guns would be taken off of his hands.

 

His client was anonymous, but the shipping request had been routed back to Black Sun headquarters on Coruscant. And although he didn't trust Black Sun's methods, he knew that he'd be paid without any hassle.

 

His holocomm beeped -- the message was recieved. Good. Now I can get down to business, and tonight we'll be on our way to Nar Shaddaa...

 

That's if Jivva was willing to participate...

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IC: Having landed in a Cloud City hangar and having thrown back a few dubious chemicals to take the final edge off of his spacesickness, Jivva Leea made his way to the East Ballroom. He walked quickly and with purpose; he knew from experience that appearing aimless led to trouble and uncomfortable questioning here. He carefully eyed guard posts as he stepped past them, taking note of all around him. Whatever Lingo needed him for was going to be awfully serious. Leea knew perfectly well that Van Lingo didn’t especially care for him and would only ask for a meeting to discuss moving something of significance. From experience, he also knew that the more significant something was, the more it was worth to transport or escort.

 

He arrived at the brightly lit ballroom and surveyed the tables. There he was, sitting alone, absorbed by the information appearing on his holocom. Jivva Leea’s hand strayed absentmindedly to his concealed holdout blaster. This set-up had all the markings of a trap. He hated traps. After looking the ballroom’s occupants over several times and mulling possible situations over in his head, the former assassin made up his mind. He walked to Lingo’s table and sat down without saying a word. He kept his hand on his blaster and with his other hand he rapped the table sharply, drawing Lingo’s attention from his holocom. He didn’t bother with small talk.

 

“What is it?”

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IC:

As in most cases, Lingo was startled.

 

It was a trait that irritated him, but his fairly simple mind was easily distracted, and once again it had led him to a state of surprise.

 

"Blast you, Leea!" The Corellian smuggler picked up his holocomm from where it had clattered to the floor. "You're lucky that your reputation precedes you. I'd have --"

 

He cut himself off; sure, he was fast with a blaster, but had a little bit of trouble hitting things. Han Solo had once nicknamed him "Loose Cannon" for the amounts of ammo he consumed in firefights.

 

"...well, I'd have reacted, anyway. I suppose you want to get down to business."

 

He outlined the shipment to Jivva: one hundred and fifty DC-17m Old Republic rifles were expected in Mos Espa. The last two shipments had never reached their destination, and now the Empire was well aware that there was a receiving outpost on Tatooine.

Thus, a stop-over on Nar Shaddaa would allow them an opportunity to pick up hyperspace coordinates that would drop them mere kilometers from Tatooine's atmosphere. "And that will keep us fairly safe from capital-class cruisers."

 

Jivva sat motionless; Lingo still hadn't discussed a price.

 

"There's no up-front money; we're dealing with Rebels. Upon delivery, I get 15,000 credits -- that includes ship docking and a pay-off for our coordinates. You get 12,000." He held his breath. "And I'll throw in two rifles."

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OOC: Doomgiver, can't you post in the OOC thread and stop cluttering the RPG? It would be appreciated.

 

IC: 12 grand and 2 DC-17's... why do I need DC-17's? They fetch quite the price, but how would I sell them off? That's beside the point, why is there so much cash in this? The buyer didn't have to tell Lingo that the previous shipments had been intercepted. He's not telling me something...

Jivva Leea gave no answer as he sat and thought the offer through. He tapped the table idly and pondered the deal. It was straightforward enough, easy layover, the only serious action might be in the descent to Mos Espa.

 

"I'll do it, but I want 13,500 so it splits dead even. Keep the rifles, I've got my own. What do you want me to do first?"

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IC:

Lingo was caught speechless. He'd expected a tough bargain, but not so fast.

 

"Wow, that was a quick negotiation... Done deal."

 

Suddenly, four armed Cloud City troopers stormed in through the nearest doorway. They rapidly took up vantage points, aiming sawed-off blaster rifles at the two outlaws.

 

"Blast!" Lingo scooted backward and kicked their table over. His right hand yanked his DL-22 from its holster while his left hand slapped back the safety hammer.

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IC: Unbelievable... the one time I don't have enough weaponry to vaporize a Star Destroyer and here I am... As Lingo kicked over the table and slid behind it, Jivva Leea dived over the top and quickly drew his holdout blaster with speed born of decades of training and experience. However, he didn't point it towards the Cloud City guards, it was placed firmly against Lingo's temple. "You knew about this, didn't you scoundrel?" He cursed in ways that would make a Hutt blush. Keeping the blaster held levelly against the Corellian's skull, he raised his voice. "Don't you worry, I've got him. We're coming up slow so you can take him off my hands, hold your fire now," then he added in an undertone to Lingo, "listen to me, you slippery son of a rancor, you'd better be prepared to use that popgun in about five seconds here. We're going to get up and walk towards them, and you're going to keep your hands raised, so stow that blaster in the back of your belt. I've only got this little pea blaster and one stun grenade on me. When we're within about 5 meters of those guards, I'm going to surrender my weapons, and that's including the 'nade. You've got to shoot it, when it goes off, we'll make a dash for it, from here to your ship. I should be able to grab one of their rifles and can clear us from here to there. You've got to hit that 'nade, though. You want to prove to me that this wasn't a trap, you'd better hit it or the first thing I'll do will be to break your bony, little neck."

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OOC:

I LOVE this! What a story...this is what character role-playing is all about! Nice spin, F-bomb.

 

IC:

"Vrelt! You know I didn't set this up!" The gun pressed harder against his temple. He winced; this was not what he had expected. Sure, he'd seen his share of hairy situations, but his prayers had been reserved for the latter part of this mission -- not the beginning.

 

One of the troopers got impatient. "Bring him out, scum! And keep your free hand where we can see it!"

 

Lingo took a deep breath. "Okay, Leea, it's your neck, too."

 

He slowly stood and moved from behind the table, Jivva's gun still digging into his skull. Here goes nothing... If I ever needed a bit of accuracy, it's now.

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IC: Jivva Leea took a very deep breath before slowly rising from behind the table, hoping that placing his life in the hands of this Corellian smuggler wouldn't be his final mistake. He pressed the blaster viciously into Lingo's forehead, putting on quite the show of having captured the scoundrel for the guards.

 

As they slowly advanced towards the guards, the troopers began barking their orders. "Hold it scum, stop right there and don't move! Slide your weapons across the floor! Do it, do it now!" Jivva Leea gritted his teeth hard and slowly lowered the blaster and drew the grenade, placing both items on the floor. He closed his eyes and kicked them across the floor towards the guards.

 

Unfortunately, Leea kicked them a little harder than he should have. The blaster went skidding out the door, and the grenade...

 

Stop, come on, stop, right there, in between them all, not out the door, no...

 

... ground to a halt right in front of the commanding trooper. The Mandalorian breathed a heavy sigh of relief before keying himself up to run. Tightening the muscles in his legs, he yelled, "NOW!"

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IC:

Lingo's hand flashed behind him and drew the DL-22 faster than Talon Karrde could make a ryll sale. He pulled the trigger and watched in horror as the bolt struck the guard commander's ankle. Oh, crap.

 

The guard fell, and everything seemed to slow down. In a matter of seconds, the galaxy had gone to hell for him. Jivva's helmeted head turned its gaze to him, and guards scrambled for cover.

 

Suddenly, the grenade went off. In his despair, Lingo failed to notice where the commander was falling -- the poor sap hit hard on the grenade's activation trigger.

 

Smuggler and Mandalorian were thrown backwards through the air.

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IC: Caught unaware for the second time in as many minutes, Jivva Leea landed heavily against the wall. Lingo ploughed into a table near him. The assassin swore heavily in Mandalorian as he struggled to his feet, the ballroom wavering back and forth in his dazed state. Recovering as only a Mandalorian could, his daze levelled off, and he took in the new situation.

 

The troopers were all in varying states of unconsciousness, and it looked as if the commander was dead from being hit at point blank by the stun grenade. He pulled a sidelong glance at Lingo as he reached to flooor. He was lying still, but didn't appear to be harmed.

 

Well, at least, he's ok...

 

Jivva Leea wasted no time, he saw one of the sawed-off blaster rifles on the floor and quickly snatched it up. Phew, we've got some protection now... He didn't feel so naked with a rifle in his hands. He sprinted across the ballroom to where two of the unconscious troopers lay. He cracked both of them with the butt of the rifle and began to strip them of their Cloud City armor. Finishing with his work, he looked back at Lingo across the now abandoned and still smoking room, he was starting to stir. As he began to rise, Leea tossed a uniform at him.

 

"Get dressed quickly, reinforcements are going to arrive any second." He pulled on the armor and headed towards the door with rifle in hand. They'd dodged that bullet...

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IC:

As Lingo tested his legs, a uniform slapped him in the face. He peeled it off and recognized it as one of the Cloud City guards'.

 

"I can't wear this!" But Jivva was busy watching the door.

 

He put on the uniform -- feeling somewhat ridiculous -- and fumbled his way back to his DL-22 pistol. Hello again, baby. Did you miss me?

 

He heard a noise, and turned his collar inside out: a small comlink was attached at his throat. I wonder if he could tap in to the frequency...?

 

"Hey, Jivva..." He trotted over and stuck the comlink in the assassin's face. "It's for you."

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IC: A crafty smile flitted across Jivva Leea's face as he examined the comlink thrust in front of him by the Corellian. He took in his hands as it crackled with static and assorted chatter. Millions of ideas flew through his highly trained mind at lightspeed. This will do nicely...

 

Activating the link and transponder, Jivva Leea spoke into the link. "Hail me City Guard Center, over." A painful silence followed broken only by static crackles. A few seconds passed with Leea curiously looking at the link.

 

"Guard Patrol 004A, this is Guard Control, we read you, over." Another smile breaking across his face, Jivva Leea replied.

 

"Guard Control, we've got a situation. The Corellian smuggler and Mandalorian assassin put up some resistance. Our patrol Captain is dead, and two are unconscious. Both targets neutralized. The rest of patrol 004A will be en route to examine the smuggler's ship, requesting permission to leave current site, over."

 

The link crackled back. "We copy 004A, that's an affirmative, permission granted, report on what you find within the next few hours."

 

Leea replied, "Copy that Guard Control, over and out." He turned to Lingo. "There, we should be able to get to your ship without further incident, but I want to stop off at mine and make sure I pick up my rifle. Let's go." He turned and headed out of the East Ballroom.

 

However, he was unaware of the activity in the Guard Control Center. "Sir," a communications officer reported to his superior, "I've just finished communicating with Patrol 004A, and there's a problem. Half the unit was neutralized, and the healthies report neutralization of two targets. Wasn't there only one, a Corellian smuggler?"

 

The officer looked and him and nodded. "That's correct."

 

"The healthies reported neutralizing a Mandalorian assassin, as well. That's rather inconsistent, isn't it, sir?"

 

"Yes, it is, dispatch patrol units 1015R and 8832V to the Corellian's ship to detain those two patrolmen and investigate the problem."

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IC:

As they got off of the lift, Lingo and Jivva ran into some resistance -- apparently, Cloud City Control wasn't as stupid as they thought they'd be.

 

Lingo layed down cover fire, letting his hired assassin do the dirty work.

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IC: Jivva Leea stepped off of the lift and after putting one foot out the door and nearly having it blown off, he fell flat to the ground and drew his stolen blaster rifle. Lingo DEFINITELY set this up...

 

He drew a bead on several of the guards and dropped them with shots to the head. Ducking back behind the door, he peeked around the corner and caught a quick head count. He turned to Lingo and mouthed the words, "one dozen."

 

The assassin shook his head, he'd been in tighter spots in worse places, with tougher odds, but he was usually equipped and prepared for it. He fired around the door and caught another guard in the abdomen. He didn't have time for this.

 

"Lingo, hit the lift, we'll go back the other way, and head towards my ship. There we can fly around to the other end of this docking bay and come in behind them."

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IC:

As he punched in the lift coordinates, Lingo felt Jivva's stare. What a way to convince a guy...

 

"Look, you know I had nothing to do with this, right?"

 

The lift stopped. The doors opened to a quite hall, and Lingo rushed out into it, holding his face to the ceiling. No blaster fire! Yes!

 

They made their way toward Jivva's ship without trouble. Once outside, several cloudcars buzzed the area, but none seemed particularly interested. Lingo looked as his proposed partner. "I guess we'd better take off before someone gets on that lift behind us..."

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IC: "Lingo, keep a watch here." Jivva Leea ran into his ship, leaving the Corellian to watch for guards. That bastard is going to shoot me in the back for sure... Let's see how he deals with this...

 

He jogged down the corridor to his cabin and threw his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed his blasters. Half expecting to turn around to the smuggler pointing a gun at his back and pleasantly surprised that he wasn't, Jivva Leea continued on to his weapon locker. Withdrawing several explosives he moved quickly to place them around key parts of his ship.

 

Satisfied that the explosives would demolish his vessel but that their blast radii would fail to reach one central ventilation shaft, the one in which he had concealed himself, Jivva Leea detonated the charges. His ship erupted in a fiery explosion that rocked the entire hangar and threw the Corellian to his back. I wonder how much he cares... or whether I'll just have to put him out of my misery.

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OOC:

*pant,pant* Sorry I'm late... Sunday = church day.

Haven't we hit page 2 yet?!

 

IC:

Holy crap... The smuggler stood shakily to his feet. Can a guy get some solid footing around here?

 

He brushed the debris off of his favorite dewback-hide jacket and yelled for Jivva. "I'm gonna kill you when we get to Tatooine!"

 

He looked all around, but didn't see the assassin anywhere. A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and he spun. Fortunately for the point-black assassin, Lingo had dropped his rifle in the blast.

Jivva said something to him, but no audible sound came out; Lingo suddenly realized that he'd lost most of his hearing.

 

"What?!' he yelled. "You're gonna have to speak up!"

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OOC: No problem, I'm patient.

 

IC: Jivva Leea punched Van Lingo hard in the mouth and placed a finger on his other hand to his lips. "Shut up," he mouthed slowly, so that the shell-shocked smuggler could understand him. "We need to be quiet," he continued. That didn't go as planned, he might still have something up his slimy little sleeve...

 

He wasn't entirely satisfied that Lingo hadn't set him up, and he was determined to find out. But, as nervous as he was about that, he knew it wasn't the time or the place.

 

He pulled Lingo's sleeve and gestured that they should charter an air speeder to take them to Lingo's hangar from the outside. He headed out.

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IC:

Reeling from the sucker-punch, Lingo spotted the rifle he had dropped. He held up his hands and nodded at Jivva's gesture to be quiet, then retireved the lost weapon.

 

Jivva yanked on his sleeve and signaled that they should get an airspeeder. Then he left.

 

Lingo considered: getting to his ship was priority number one, keeping the assassin on the job was number two. He finally conceded that following Jivva was the only way to accomplish both,

 

As rough as Jivva Leea was, he was exactly what Lingo had hoped for. And it would pay off if the Empire ever got a hold of the Grim Fandango, because nobody boarded her. Ever.

 

He followed the Mandalorian, watching his feet to make sure he wasn't running on anything that made extra noise. He hoped they were headed to the street, unless Jivva knew a charter service number by heart.

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IC: Occasionally glancing back over his shoulder to make sure that the nearly deaf Corellian was still following him, Jivva Leea pulled out his holocom and dialed a few little known routing numbers. He monitored the newly opened and practically undiscovered channel while keeping half of his attention on autopilot, heading towards the Cloud City streets. He knew a small, private speeder rental that had always proven reliable in the past. He'd head there, get a speeder, get around to Lingo's ship, get away from Cloud City, and then plan from there. As he payed close attention to his holocom, he began letting part of his mind plan ahead.

 

I can't dump Lingo now, if I do, he'll probably go straight to the Imps and put them on my tail, and this is way to big of a payday to miss. But if this is all a ploy... It's too elaborate for that, he doesn't think that far ahead... How well do I know him... Let's see, there was Yatharra, he proved... unreliable at best. There was the breakout, he was resourceful and sneaky, I don't like that, he thought awfully far ahead there... And now there is now... The ballroom, the hangar, this is all too coincidental... I'd better-

 

His thinking broke off abruptly as he heard something on his holocom that caught his full attention. He had been monitoring Imperial security channels that he'd cracked codes for a while ago and was completely caught off guard by what he had heard. His feet stopped carrying him forward and his jaw dropped as he turned to look at Lingo. The Imperial First Forward Fleet was headed for Cloud City.

 

He's told them I'm here, that dirty, stinking...

 

Jivva Leea drew a blaster and whirled upon the Corellian knocking him to the ground and levelling the blaster at his head.

 

"You've got about ten seconds to convince me to not splatter your conniving little cerebrum all over the street!" he yelled loud enough for him to hear. All across the street people were turning to see the scene, many screaming and dropping to the ground at the sight of the Mandalorian's blaster.

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IC:

Lingo looked up at the faceless helmet. "Go ahead and shoot, Leea. I'm sick of this tirade."

 

The helmet didn't move. Neither did the gun.

 

Lingo stood to his feet. "Go ahead, call my bluff. But before you do, I'll tell you straight up that I'm holding full hand of crap. How you bet now will determine whether we split the pot or let the Imperials have it.

"So shoot now. Otherwise, let's get to my ship and get off of this rock. I'm sick of orange."

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IC: Tempted as he was to pull the trigger and splatter little pieces of Lingo's skull up and down the street, Leea grabbed him roughly and pushed him down the street. Jivva Leea did not want the Corellian behind him anymore.

 

"Keep walking, there's a charter firm just a little further up the street."

 

Even if we do get a speeder and get into Lingo's hangar and ship, how do we get away from here with an entire Imperial battle group headed this way? This doesn't look good...

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IC:

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Lingo muttered. The airspeeder charters were more expensive than even he'd have thought. "Between this and your fee, Leea, I'll be lucky to break even."

 

The speeder that they had hired sat patiently on the lot, its repulsors whirring. Lingo paid the attendant and climbed aboard, Jivva right behind.

 

The speeder lifted off in a cloud of orange dust and soared toward the East Platform. Once in the air, the Corellian finally relaxed. "When we get to hyperspace, I'm locking myself in my bunk and taking a nice, long shower."

 

The comment captured the pilot's attention who looked at his passengers for the first time: a battered, disheveled smuggler and a stiff, blast-burned Mandalorian.

He reached to flip the comm, but stopped as cold steel tickled his neck.

 

Lingo grinned from behind. "Sorry, pal, but just take us to the platform."

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