Log:Array Consortium: The Yellow Hunt Begins
With Adhar's eye shot out, and the Yellow Man the major suspect, Mara swears to help her friend and hunt down this evasive and most resourceful fellow. The hunt for the mysterious Yellow Man is on, but even though her skill and power will get her far, this road of revenge is only just starting. First, though, a little recon...
The Yellow Man has been...avoiding you.
Or rather, he avoids detection in general - while plenty have heard of him, the exact nature of his existence, short of the fact that he does, indeed, exist, are painfully thin. Known to have been a sort of freelance trouble-shooter of the diplomatic and physical sort alike, he existed for several years as a sort of murderous consigliere for several minor crime lords in the Outer Rim - and then, suddenly, he found some new patron that set him after the Consortium, specifically Adhar, to try and take the ship that his uncle left him, the Moonstormer. While this reason was never discovered, what is clear is that he and Adhar have met on multiple occasions - and, though Adhar was sometimes injured in those brushes, sometimes seriously, the Yellow Man came back with a lot of holes in him, the first made by a /turbolaser/. In the end, what's left of him is unable to be separated from the enormous amounts of bionic replacements required to keep him alive - and, this having made him far more lethal, his star has risen quickly.
Currently, the last track you have of him is Adhar's encounter with him in the Senex-Juvex sector. This sector, ruled over by the noble families of Senex and Juvex, has been a slaving power for centuries, defending this horrible trade to the point that even upon joining the Republic they accepted permanent trade sanctions than to ever give it up.
But there are people out there who know what he's up to, or at least where he is, in the sector now. One of them, a minor noble named Adnar Pasley, floats into range of your investigation when you first go looking round. He's easily found - and, it appears, easily bribed. Assuming you'll reach out to him, he might be your ticket.
Mara Jade brings the Sabre out of hyperspace well away from the primary space lanes. She lets the light freighter drift for a few minutes while passively scanning the sector. Tapping in the coordinates for Juvex, she then brought the ship around to close in on the star port.
Once at the spaceport, it doesn't take very long to pin down where the young Lord Pasley take his cups - a little place alled the Spring Evening, which is as pretentiously self-parodying as it sounds. You find the place easily, and it looks for all the world like a vast iron gazebo with four floors and glass windows visible between the gaps in its iron frame. It is...fancy. Irritatingly so. But the lad is likely in there.
Mara Jade will take the time to scout around the establishment before she will look for a suitable clothier to purchase such finery that would not raise suspicions in the place.
A suitable tailor isn't at all hard to find - and soon, you manage to find yourself some proper garments. Proper, of course, as in fitting your own style and not that of...aaaaaanyone else. And so you slink back to that godawful garden dome, and prepare to stun. Right? That's what you're doing, stunning?
The ornate decks of the Spring Evening are connected by a gravitic tube, not a physical turbolift - spat up and down by a beam of fluctating gravity, a pair of very expensive, very focused repulsors move people up and down with more than enough finesse and accuracy not to turn them to paste or tear them apart when they want to go to a level. But first...the majordomo. An incredibly fat, self-important Twi'lek stands by the hosting station, awaiting guests - and seeing you, and whatever you're...wearing...his lekku shudder in limp disgust.
"Excuse me...madam," the bulky restaurant-drone says in an unctious tone of polished formality that somehow manages to emulate something quite almost, but entirely unlike, politeness. "May I ask what your buusssssiness is here tonight?"
The thing about Mara and her past experience? She can make a potato sack look amazing. So even when she is flaunting herself, and earning the disdain of the elite, she can still see it in their eyes that she's working it exactly the way she intended and they're eating it all up. Go on. Deny the truth.
And so the redhead looks at the majordomo and smiles, sweet and sultry. "I'm here to see one of your distinguished patrons."
Yes, deny the truth, fat bastard! He does so, but only just - indeed, he stares at the outfit and the woman within it for a just a moment too long, but he instead sniffs and turns up his nose. "Entertainment uses the rear entrance," he proclaims, but does not turn you away. "And whom among our august customers are you here to see?"
Mara Jade just smiles. "Adnar Pasley." She says it in a whisper before moving closer to the fat man to murmur softly. "I do trust that you can conduct yourself with... discretion. It would be terribly embarrassing for both he and you... if word got out."
"Indeed." The words drip with ice, though he gestures for you to pass - after all, you know who you're looking for. And as all eyes fall upon you as you slink your way to the gravity lift, you feel the myriad hungry hearts panting after you in some measure or another before you ascend to the third floor, where the little bastard eats.
And so there he is, Lord Pasley, all pale and pasty and utterly annoying to look at - like a pustule on the ass of reality, he sits at his table in awkward finery, frowning at his soup, which he of course dines upon alone. No wonder this guy wants to see some upward mobility through cash or favors. He /needs/ it.
Mara Jade ignores all of the looks. But she knows they're there. She sells her role perfectly as she crosses the room and moves to stand right beside Lord Pasley himself. "My Lord. It simply wouldn't do for you to dine by yourself. It's shameful, don't you think? If only some lovely girl would be willing to join you."
Lord Pasley, whose eyes are exactly the same color of split pea soup, stares at you for a long moment. "I don't make use of entertainers," he says in a bland, flat voice that should belong in the throat of a bored accountant. "Unless you have something i might actually want, please go away."
Mara Jade smiles. "Everyone is so quick to make assumptions about entertainers based upon their clothing." She leans close, "What might a powerful and influential Lord as yourself... want?"
He looks up at you with those flat, dull eyes. "I am asexual," he says simply. "Your charms are wasted on me. If you have business with me, please sit and tell me about it. Otherwise, leave me to my meal."
Well, all right then. Heaving chests and whispered sweetness isn't going to work.
Mara Jade smiles. "That makes two of us, my Lord, as of this very moment. And yet you still have not said what you want. If I knew that I'd know what to offer."
"I am interested only in money," says the pale man, looking back down to his soup. "Call it selfish or pedestrian if you like, but I find nothing else makes things happen the way I want without this particular grease for the galaxy's wheels." He glances up at you for a moment. "Who are you looking for?"
Mara Jade states, "The Yellow Man." She puts it right out to let the bluntness surprise him. Or not.
If he's surprised, that ridiculously sallow face is able to mask it - no simple mind, this. "Two hundred thousand," he say, equally bluntly. "And I shall tell you all that I know."
Mara Jade considers the price and nods. "That's fair, My Lord. But wouldn't you much prefer to clear your consciences about such a vile being? I'm certain that you will tell me all that you know. Because it is the right thing to do." Her hand gestures lightly, simply.
For a long moment, Lord Pasley stares at you with those pus-colored eyes as the power of your mind overruns his, and then he frowns. "Yes," he says, a certain dreamy quality to his words. "I suppose you're right. THe man's a stain as it is. Where shall I start?"
"Well." Lord Pasley goes back to his soup, speaking thoughtfully between sips. "The man's a stain, as I said. Outer RIm scum, no doubt. He came to the court of Lord Duran Vos Jalinan not long ago - Duran is another human weed, of course, an old and shriveled one to boot. Clings to the very old ways, where we bred slaves out of their alien ways and made them more...human. How boring. A Twi'lek that acts like a human? What's the point?"
He shakes his head. "This fellow, the Yellow Man, comes a month ago, kills Lord Duran's old advisor, and nobody says a word - he's practically a droid at this point, after all, and I doubt anyone wants to have a cross word with a man who can fire blaster bolts from his mouth. What a monster! At any rate, he starts advising Lord Duran on as to who he should buy from suppliers, that sort of thing. And of course, that's what happens. Then, this smuggler, or pirate...who can tell anymore? This fellow, Gann, starts causing trouble with the Mathall Syndicate, this dreadful outfit of drug pushers from the southern part of the rim. He starts killing /everybody./ Bombing spice barns, destroying vessels, stealing all the slaves - why, he even murdered their top spice overseer with his bare hands on some ridiculous casino planet! Put a dagger right in his head. I tell you, disguise or no, it was a dreadful business. The Yellow Man began to tell Lord Duran that he was dangerous, and should be killed. I dare say, he might not have been wrong to try it, either."
Mara Jade listens intently. "Indeed. Do continue, if you please."
"Well, that's just it is, you see? He orchestrated the kidnapping of the family of some woman on the crew, and of course, this man just went and bought the bulk of them. Then he came to see Lord Duran - on Lord Duran's invitation, of all things, again that Yellow Man's work! - and tried to bargain for the woman's sister, who had already begun the training process to become a pleasure slave, you see. Well, what was there for it? This Gann fellow said he'd pay whatever Lord Duran wanted, and then he told the woman - she'd come wiht him, you see - that if she wanted her sister back, she'd have to shoot him!" Lord Pasley laughs faintly, shaking his head as he has another swallow of soup.
"So of course she does, and Gann falls over against the old idiot's lap, and /everyone else/ can see that he's not dead, but somehow - and I can't believe I'm going to say this - he convinces Lord Duran that he's dead! Well, the Yellow Man can't go against the word of a noble, as he's stull just a hireling, you see, and so then this Gann fellow pops up again. He's put a live grenade in Lord Duran's hand! They take the sister, run away, destroy half a squadron of Lord Duran's private guard, and that's it! Humiliations galore for Lord Duran, and the Yellow Man's position is in jeopardy - at least, of course, it /should/ be." The lord shakes his head. "No, instead he just gets told by Lord Duran to avenge him. They won't speak publically about such things, of course, and the only reason I know is because I had a source who was /there/. Can you believe it?"
Finally, Lord Pasley puts his soup aside, folding his hands upon the table as he looks at you again with his sickly green eyes slightly out of focus. "I hear that he's taken the man's eye! Lord Duran wants an example made, and this Yellow Man is only too happy to provide it. I anticipate he'll take that poor pirate fellow apart, piece by piece, if he can."
Mara Jade listens carefully. "Much of this I was aware of. Where does Duran frequent? Have you seen this Yellow Man anywhere outside of Duran's court?" She doesn't as many questions just those she feels are specific to getting what she desires.
"Nowhere that I've heard," says the greasy fellow, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "As for Duran, he has his palace. That's where he stays. Hes terribly old, after all."
Mara Jade nods. "Thank you." She gestures with her hand, "I was never here. No matter what anyone says. You've never spoken to anyone about these topics." Leaning on the Force to imprint these ideas.
"Of course." That said, Lord Pasley takes a bite o fhis soup, pauses...and then looks up at you with a squint. "Can I help you?" Al is cold once more.
Mara Jade continues, "You do not see me or remember me." And with a final gesture, she turns, "Forget." it is the last thing as she walks away, only her back to him now. And she seeks to make her way out. The back way of course.
"Huh." Back to his soup, the entire conversation - your existence - wiped from his memory. Dinnertime, and being a bastard. That's all that's on his mental docket. Well done.