The flight to Rorak was by and large uneventful. Calen couldn't say he was complaining, it giving him more than a little time to relax and set his mind to the task ahead. Also, to try out those breathing techniques he and Niyasa had gleaned from the holocron. He wasn't some sort of stealth operative by any means and he was a bit afraid of blowing the entire thing, but he'd resolved to trust in his skills and the skills of his compatriots.
Luckily, no one on Rorak 4 should have been any the wiser as to their identities. The communications between the Siren and Zobek's forces appeared to have been only through coded messages, with no auditory or visual contact. Briemi had said it was going to be a breeze. In fact, she still was.
"It'll work. It'll work." She muttered to herself.
"I have every confidence." Calen said. This statement seemed to surprise Briemi, who gave him a look. "We're two pilots, a stealth operative, a reprogrammed Imperial data droid, and a boatload of faux-Stormtroopers. Pretty sure this is in the bag." Silence followed on from that for a moment, then Calen added. "We'll have the war won in a week, just you wait." Briemi laughed. So did Tyr, though all he gave was a hearty chuckle.
"Thank you, Captain. I needed that." Briemi laughed.
"You were nervous?" Calen asked, now it was his turn to raise a brow.
"Terrified. Aren't you?" Briemi asked, blushing a bit at the sudden accusation.
"No." Calen said, but then amended after a few seconds, admitting, "A little, yeah. I've never done this sort of thing before. Lying isn't usually my forte."
"It's not lying. It's...manipulating certain truths in order to achieve our goals." Briemi said.
"So...lying?" Calen asked.
"I prefer to think of it as telling the truth...from a certain point of view." Briemi said.
"That's glib of you." Calen said, unable to resist a chuckle.
"Y'know, the General said you could be a bit vexing..." Briemi crossed her arms, nonetheless seeming to take the teasing well.
"Well, I've been known for that." Calen said.
"As much as this is amusing to listen to, we're here...buckle in, we're cutting the sublight engines." Tyr said, preparing to do just that, flipping some switches on the dash. Soon enough, they were buckled in and the shuttle dropped out of hyperspace. Real space solidified around them, and the piloting of both Tyr and Calen brought them toward the little brown planetoid with a single moon in its orbit.
"Control is requesting our clearance code." Calen said, examining the transmission monitor.
"Send it through." Briemi said, sharing the hope that Calen had shared that the codes would still be valid. Calen nodded, transmitting the code. A few seconds passed in tense silence.
"We're getting a transmission." Calen said, patching through the audio only.
"Imperial Shuttle Siren, we have been awaiting you," A voice purred through the speakers, one that spoke of someone who had learned Basic but still retained much of a natural Huttese in their speech, "please direct your vessel to the following coordinates. Control out." The signal went dead from there, and a series of coordinates were transmitted.
"Well, that went well." Calen said, taking a breath.
"For now." Tyr said. "Plotting course." The shuttle coasted down into the atmosphere without too much issue. As they actually got close enough to be considered planetside, Calen could see a massive city stretched out beneath them. It reminded him of Coruscant and even more closely of Karideph, though it hardly had the charm and majesty of either. What it boasted in its bulk, it did not match the glamor due to the look of it all. The place looked...drab, empty, hollow. The buildings were tall spires, but instead seemed to be more of an excuse for the smoke stacks of factories and other centers of production on the planet. Along with weapons and other military equipment production, Rorak 4 had one thing in particular that Calen found disturbing.
He grimaced as they passed over a massive complex that even from their distance he could see was being used to sell off slaves. A grand marketplace, dedicated to the entrapment and servitude of others.
"You alright, chief?" Tyr's question broke him out of the moment.
"Well, we won't be here too long, so don't worry." Briemi said. "I think that's our stop, is it?"
"Oh, yeah." Tyr said. The pre-plotted course brought the shuttle onto a large docking platform that was attached to one of the larger buildings - one that was unmistakable to anyone who had seen one of the Rorak 4's holonet broadcasts: Zobek's Arena. It was a large, domed building made to outshine all the rest in sheer mass, rather like a Hutt. Large, imposing, and drowning in blood and corpses given the nature of the broadcasts that came from within.
The shuttle gave a loud thud as it hit the deck. The soldiers within had gotten a refresher on Stormtrooper formation, and were now heading down the ramp to move into position - flanking the on-off ramp and standing a few meters from one another.
"Well," Briemi said, standing and tugging down the front of her uniform. "Shall we?"
"Yes, Inspector." Calen said, likewise standing and preparing himself. "Shall I put on a menacing look?"
"No, go for bored and confused." Briemi said.
"What?" Calen asked, his eyes narrowing a bit.
"There. You've got it." Briemi said, a smirk on her face as she moved toward the rear of the shuttle. Calen looked back to Tyr, who just gave a smile and a shrug. Calen quickly followed Briemi from the shuttle, the acrid smell of smoke and chemicals hitting his nose immediately. He hoped they wouldn't be outside for long. He was pretty certain even mynocks couldn't live in an environment like this for very long.
"Welcome to Rorak 4, Inspector Vanyard." The voice from the comms was now meeting their ears in person as they spied a Nikto wearing an elaborate tunic that looked to be about a size too big for him. The pair of eyes that met them were...almost human, but they were about the only thing that could be called human beyond the shape of the body. All the visible flesh of the form was a rocky brownish red, filled with indentions and creases that were broken only by the horns at the temple and the neck. "I am Dach Pirc, Majordomo. My master, Zobek Desilijic Tiure." He said as he gave a sweeping bow to the approaching party.
"A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Majordomo Pirc." Briemi returned with a less theatrical bow of her own, almost more a mere nod of acknowledgement. "I apologize for our delay. We had an unexpected stop in need of repairs."
"Such things, they happen, do they not?" Pirc asked, his eyes turning from the woman onto Calen.
"This is Commander Croll Symmach. My chief of staff." Briemi said quickly.
"Greetings to you as well, Commander." Pirc gave another of his sweeping bows. Calen, like Briemi, responded in the same manner. "You are not a woman who enjoys traveling alone, are you?"
"That I am not." Briemi said. "My job holds plenty of danger as you well know."
"Don't I just?" Pirc gave a bit of a wry chuckle at her words. "I have been instructed to bring you to my master's audience chamber upon your arrival. Please, follow me." With that, the Nikto turned and started down the walkway from which he had come.
"Men, hold positions!" Briemi barked and order, the 'Stormtroopers' snapping to attention, turning to face inward toward the aisle. With that, she and Calen turned and followed Pirc.
"I must say, Inspector, your men are very well trained." Pirc commented.
"The best of the best. They can afford to be no less." Briemi said. Calen mused on that, wondering just how much of that was Briemi crossing her fingers that the Hutt would buy what was essentially a long con. Pirc continued to make a bit of small talk as he led them into the domed building, a door sealing behind them and the stale and yet welcome smell of processed air hitting Calen's nostrils. They were led down a corridor, Calen's eyes turning at the sight of Gamorrean guards, a few dancers, some rather nervous-looking businessmen, and even some armed individuals looking to ply their trade at the behest of the Hutt. Looks were exchanged, but no one gave them trouble until they approached a large, circular door.
Two Gamorrean guards, both with vibrospears. Calen was having a strange sense of familiarity about the whole thing.
"<Open the doors!>" Pirc barked in a Huttese that clearly came from his mouth a great deal smoother than Basic. The two guards moved aside, one pressing a button on a panel that caused the two door halves to separate, sliding away into the wall. Within there was a loud cacophony of music. The throne room was filled to the brim with individuals, all gathered around a specific point. Calen was finally able to pick the music out as a glimmik hit, being performed live by a band called "The Trash Compactor" (by the writing on some of their equipment) while a few Twi'lek dancers moved about rhythmically to it (though few seemed to be interested in the music, if anything) to the delight of those viewing. Among their number, seated on a dais opposite the band, was a gargantuan slug-like being. The music came to an end rather suddenly at their arrival, the dancers being shooed out of the center of the room by Pirc as they stepped up.
"<Good. Good. Welcome, Imperial Inspector Vanyard! I have been waiting for you for quite some time. I trust your trip was pleasant?"> Zobek's voice came from his drooling maw in his native tongue. It would be charitable to say he was wearing some sort of purple, heavily ornamented tunic - it seemed to be more draped over his enormous, slime-covered bulk. The entire face was a hideous canvas of wrinkles that, in combination with the shape of his head and the placement of his eyes rather made him look like a toad.
"The great Zobek welcomes you to his court, Inspector Vanyard and he expresses his hopes that your trip was pleasant." A protocol droid standing at Zobek's left hand spoke up.
"We thank you for the warm reception, your Highness." Briemi said, giving a more pronounced bow than she gave Pirc back on the pad. "Our trip was indeed quite pleasant. Your offer. . .most intrigued my superiors."
"<As I knew it would, as I knew it would.>" A deep laugh bellowed from within Zobek's mass. "<Some within the Empire are smarter than the rest. I assure you that your trip will be well worth your time.>"
"The great Zobek praises your willingness to speak to him and assures you that your trip will be worth your chronological investment." The droid reported dutifully.
"Of that, I have no doubt." Briemi said. "May we see what we've been asked to come and see?" Again, echoing laughter rolled out of Zobek's mouth.
"<There will be plenty of time for that later.>" Zobek gargled. "<Pleasantries must be observed. You and your soldiers are to be my guests for the evening. In the morning, I shall take you to the site myself. I do hope that you will join me for dinner...>"
A few more pleasantries were expressed and they were dismissed. Zobek graciously offered Briemi and Calen one of the suites above the arena, which was empty as the void of space for the time being, and had one of his garrisons abdicate one of their barracks for the compliment of Stormtroopers to stay at overnight.
"Gracious host." Calen muttered.
"Shh!" Briemi raised a finger, pressing a button to close the door of the rooms behind them.
"I don'-" Calen started again.
"Shh!" Briemi said again, a finger raised once more. Then, she went about the room checking everywhere for something. The paneling, the light fixtures, even the furniture in the room. Several minutes went by as she did this before finally returning to a confused Calen. "Okay, I think we're clear."
"What are yo-?"
"Bugs." Briemi said. "I was checking for any bugs, just in case. Pretty sure we're in the clear."
"Oh." Calen realized.
"Yeah, but we're good." Briemi said, sighing deeply.
"Good to know." Calen said. "So, what do you think of the host now that we've met him?"
"Feels like he's very much in control. Also, he's in desperate need of an interior decorator." Briemi said.
"Definitely not getting a good vibe off of him." Calen said.
"And, unfortunately, we'll be in his presence a bit more than expected." Briemi said. "Dinner."
"Is that a normal Hutt practice?" Calen asked.
"I don't know." Briemi shrugged. "But we're going to observe it nonetheless. Mind your manners, Commander. We're going into the maw of the Hutt." A moment of silence passed once more between them. ". . .I think I should rephrase that."
"I'd be much more comfortable if you did." Calen agreed. "Let's get ready for dinner..."
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