"You've got to be kidding me," came Hunter's smooth voice from the bridge, with enough edge to it that Vel's interest was piqued. She'd been tucked away in a corner, pretending to read but really trying to meditate. Her recent brushes with the Force had been both encouraging and inviting, and she found a bit more confidence in seeking it out. Besides, it had come in handy, and she wanted nothing more than to be useful. But Hunter's tone was enough to break her out of her thoughts for some good old eavesdropping.
"I mean, if the Jedi can't, what about someone from the city? I'm sure you have contacts..." came his voice down the hall, followed by a garbled answer from the hologram before him. "No, I get it, it's just... not really our thing." This was met with a longer and louder bunch of fuzzy speech from the holo that Vel couldn't make out, but she got the gist from Hunter's response: "Yes, sir. No, I understand, sir. Yes, sir."
The holo beeped as it disappeared into the console, and Hunter let out a deep sigh. It was too much to resist, so Vel ambled up to the bridge.
"What was that all about?" she asked. No use in beating around the bush.
"We're going to Cantonica," Hunter replied. "Some greasy gambler apparently is highly invested in a lab that is working on a compound that melts clone armor. Could be a huge mess if it's finished and weaponized."
"Never heard of it," Vel said, "But it sounds like quite the adventure, no? I mean, all you have to do is say 'laboratory explosion' and you know Wrecker will be on board."
"Heh," was the extent of mirth from Hunter, "Normally, yes. But they're cramping our style a bit on this one. We're going undercover. And you're coming along too."
***
The Marauder settled effortlessly onto the landing platform, and with a hiss from the suspension, the stairs folded out. The briefing wasn't quite complete, however. As Tech made the final adjustments on the landing sequence, Hunter continued his instructions to the team in the cockpit of the ship.
"Please ensure you have done everything in your power to memorize every detail of this individual," he said, motioning toward the image rotating on the holo, "He should not be too hard to find, considering his love of attention, but we do not want to make any careless mistakes, the likelihood of which are increased by the inefficient layout and overpopulation of this particular casino."
"Blue skin and a gold face tattoo?" Wrecker said impatiently, "Come on!"
"It may sound unique," Tech inserted promptly, "But they are traits common among Pantorans; therefore, our target is more easily identified by his behavior than his looks alone."
"That's what we're looking for," Hunter said. "We have to ensure he plays right into our hand; he has to make the first move."
"I still think we need a backup plan," Vel admitted. "This is a massive failure waiting to happen."
"With an attitude like that, it will be," Crosshair crooned sardonically. "Cheer up. We know you've got it in you." His words carried more weight than they should have, and Vel eyed him with suspicion. He met her gaze evenly, allowed his eyes to lazily yet pointedly roam toward Tech, then back to Hunter without a further word.
Vel felt a bit exposed all of a sudden, but it was brushed aside with Hunter's continued briefing.
"We'll be fine," Hunter said authoritatively. "Just stick to the plan. Jouren Terrik is known for three things: money, attention, and women. If we play our parts, he'll be hooked. We'll blend in to whatever they're all doing here, make sure Vel gets his attention, and once she gets to the lab..."
"Boom!" Wrecker hollered jovially.
"Not this time," Hunter corrected. "We have to be discreet. They can't know anything has been touched. Tech will plant his little doomsday device and that's it."
"It's actually a covert system virus that will slowly corrupt one element of the recipe at a time, diluting its potency and eventually rendering it useless, entirely without their awareness. The brilliance of the design is that--"
"Yes, it's brilliant. We'd love to hear all about how it works, Tech, but we need to get moving," Hunter interrupted. "We need to be ready once the floor opens. You've all got your disguises; we'll get ready in our rooms and meet at the bar. Keep your comlinks nearby just in case. Any questions?"
***
Vel stared at the "disguise" laying out on the hotel bed in front of her, as if she could change it into a cloak and tunic if she glared at it long enough. She used to love playing dress-up as a kid, but this was something else, and felt entirely out of her element.
The team had been given credits on Coruscant and instructions to procure civilian outfits that would allow them to blend in to one of the ritziest casinos known to man (and every other species). Four clones who had rarely worn anything but armor plates and one failed Jedi mechanic did not share the highest awareness of fashion between them. Worse, they had been allowed, or rather forced, to get their disguises on their own. The team had split up, Crosshair and Vel opting to go on their own, Hunter recommending that Wrecker join him, and Tech insisting he would go as soon as he finished updating the navicomputer.
Vel felt her heart beating against her chest. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves, but the queasiness in her stomach seemed to be a permanent feature. There had been no follow-up discussion after she made a fool of herself to Tech at the waterfall, but she could have sworn there was a minute shift in his behavior toward her ever since. There was a softer edge to his words, an almost imperceptible tenderness in the way he looked at her. She hoped she wasn't imagining it.
"Okay. Let's get this over with," she said, taking a swig from a small metal flask on her dresser. She tried to avoid making a face as it burned its way down her throat, but it was a futile effort.
***
The central bar in the Canto Bight casino was a large, circular room filled with orbs of all kinds. The windows were a rich array of stained glass, lined with gold, and they emphasized the many bottles sitting neatly in a row in front of them. Sleek black-and-gold waitstaff droids cruised among the guests, offering trays of wide-mouthed and long-stemmed glasses full of various concoctions. There must have been some intentional structural engineering in regard to the sound, as the rooms were teeming with every size, shape, and species, yet the noise was not unbearable. Simple conversations were still easily heard, and many were taking place all over the room.
Hunter stood near the bar, adjusting his jacket in discomfort. Clone Force 99 was entirely unrecognizable in their self-selected disguises and blended into the rich setting almost entirely. He sported a pair of high-waisted dress pants and a white buttoned shirt; it fell open loosely at the top and was tucked into a shiny black cummerbund around his waist. He had a black suit jacket with thick satin lapels over it all. He had insisted upon a subtle sheath for his forearm, as he wouldn't be caught dead without his vibro-knife at the very least. He had forsaken his beloved red bandana for once, instead opting to pull his shoulder-length hair into a bun on top of his head.
Crosshair had opted for a similar ensemble, just slightly more suited to his particular frame. He stood tall in a long black coat, hanging smartly with a black scarf over black pants and shoes. Finishing the ensemble was a tight black turtleneck and a pair of black gloves. The toothpick was ever-present, however, and bounced angrily in his mouth as he refused Wrecker's attempts to put a monocle over his right eye.
Wrecker had made it no secret that he couldn't stand these clothes; Hunter had settled for him to wear a black button-down shirt and black dress pants, which had a few not-so-subtle lumps that were most likely explosives of sorts. The only suitable shirt they could find that was remotely formal was considerably too small, however, and it gapped in the spaces between buttons. The top two buttons (or three, when Hunter wasn't looking) were left open, more out of necessity than style, and he was under strict orders to stay calm to avoid splitting his sleeves. He had taken the "disguise" part quite literally, however, and had donned an oversized pair of sunglasses as well as a fake mustache. The result would have been comical in any other setting, but this was a place where virtually anything could be written off as fashion.
"She's late," Crosshair said quietly, squinting at Hunter while leaning nonchalantly on the bar. "Think she chickened out? It wouldn't be a surprise."
He received nothing but a side-eye in response before Hunter continued scanning the room. "No sign of our guy yet, Tech?"
"Not yet," came the response from a stool on the other side of Wrecker, where Tech was consoling himself for the loss of his helmet visor with the presence of his datapad, which was hidden on top of the counter behind Wrecker's massive frame.
"Well why don't you take a look at this instead," Hunter said, reaching across to smack Tech's hand from the datapad. Tech jerked his head up indignantly but was distracted as Hunter tilted his head pointedly to the stairs.
It had taken Vel longer than anticipated to get ready, and the reason became readily apparent. Halfway down the staircase, she had paused to glance about the room for the target, and Wrecker had to do a double-take to make sure it was her. An unabashed "whoa" escaped his lips, followed by a huge grin as he clapped Tech on the back.
A high-neck halter top held shimmering white satin around her neck, hugging her torso tightly down to where it gathered at her waist. Cascading folds of silvery white fell to the floor in a full skirt, some of which was bunched in her hand to allow her to walk without falling. Her brown hair was twisted on top of her head in a sleek knot, and two delicately ornate earrings sparkled on either side of her face.
Tech followed Hunter's gaze and found her there on the stairs, descending slowly now, and his heart skipped a beat. His chest felt tight all of a sudden, as if he couldn't breathe, and he opened his mouth to take a deep breath. Hunter smirked at the cacophony of reactions he sensed, then he stood up straight, regarding Tech with a stern look.
"Remember the plan," was all he said, as Vel neared the bottom of the stairs and spotted them across the room.