In Sufficient Number

[Siiwook]

A Dagger from the Darkness
Planet: Naboo
Required: Cultist
Target: Terminate a former asset
Comments: It has come to the Cult's attention that a former weapons dealer doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. The Bothan who goes by Yasif Tarik these days currently resides on Naboo. He's a sly one and while he may not be expecting a visit, he will be prepared. Make sure that his gossiping days are through.
Reward: Increased reputation in the Cult and 1,500 credits

Navigating the city had been frightfully difficult for the normally nature bound cultist hopeful. There were cars, people, and those blasted tantalising bug shockers to help deal with the crippling insect infestation. A touch ironic without being laughable. The bright blue lamps hung at regular intervals on buildings and gave off the stink of ozone.

Siiwook fought to keep from gagging whenever the reek touched his scent receptors. What the planet needed was more arachnids to deal with the airborne menace of blood suckling gnats. Not a drastic amount of them but enough to not have to apply such means of mass eradication. His frustration with dealing with the other Hopefuls in the Cult tossing books at him had come to fruition when he took a mission on Naboo. Anything was better than running errands all day whilst receiving cat calls from fellow, potential pupils. Much of the time he felt his presence unwanted. He wanted to shatter every insect repelling piece of machinery on the planet, if not the city. Let the bugs do their work on the populace and suck it dry.

Other than obvious malignancies scattering Siiwook’s opinion of the planet, he was in a good mood. Creeping along the outer wall of a private courtyard he kept to the darkest corners. Only peering out to see people pace or keep law enforcement in view. He hadn’t encountered an resistance from residents but he had done a good job of avoiding being seen altogether. Not that he was expected by anyone. It was just the fact that he was a giant spider walking the streets and for some reason that unnerved people. One leg or series of eyes spotted and he was one cooked tarantula. Siiwook primarily relied on his unique abilities to avoid capture; walking on walls and ceilings, leaping and general instinct for danger.

Scuttling along the wall he kept low and silent moving with predatory grace that could only be developed from years of hunting. Only the most observant could have detected his presence or noticed his passing. Sometimes he questioned how bipeds were able to get around without detection. Assassins bound by the natural gravity of a planet unable to crawl and walls of ceilings were a curiosity. The spider was sure they managed to get by with their talents and training but he could never imagine shuffling along after a target. Something about it seemed extremely crude to him.

Siiwook displayed his superior genetic make up by creeping up a wall, dodging between apartment outcropping and eventually reaching the roof. Beneath a star speckled sky he gingerly moved along the top of the roof to overlook the city. The bronze domes and ornamental waterways bobbed and zagged out in a quartering pattern, dividing the area into districts. Yellowing light glowed at regular intervals along ever street, highlighting Romanesque arches into inviting maws. Siiwook placed his forward legs on the ledge, looking about and wondering where to begin his search. The only information he had was the city his quarry was in but not exactly where.

For roughly two hours he sat and waited in contemplation of where to go and how to seek his prey out in the quiet city. Siiwook considered where the weapons came from, working backwards in hopes of finding the link in the chain he needed. From the thugs hands the firearm came from a dealer, bought en masse by an employer from a dealer. Which was where Tarik connected hands with the supplier and the owner.

Any former weapons dealer with a loose tongue couldn’t stay low for long. Particularly when they’ve had their hands in with the Cult. Since Korriban, one couldn’t go far in the criminal underworld without sniffing out someone who claimed to have been a part of it. A Bothan who had actually been sticking his fingers into the war would not. A slip of the tongue in a bar would travel far. From the gun totting henchman all the way up to the man carrying the boxes of ammunition off the transport. Siiwook was sure that the furry creature had some hand in the weapon trade on Naboo, at least in the city. Word would likely have it that the Bothan was one of the few of his race in the city as the humid climate wasn’t their cup of tea. Siiwook could only guess and extrapolate in a hope of finding his target. But he would start at the docks, believing that the best choice of action was to check shipping manifests for irregularities.

Finding the docks was simple. Despite the cities presence in the middle of a naturally formed lake the water bound ships carrying cargo from other areas were all designated to one section, a seedier quarter near the merchants and stores. Siiwook felt comfortable in the warm moisture of the docks, an oddly welcoming feeling despite the nature of his mission. He spent a few moments -curled comfortably in a drainage pipe- observing the aquatic craft bobbing lazily in place. Upon moving he was carful to keep out of site of late night drunks stumbling the wharf. Fortunately there was limited lighting on the sparsely occupied area which worked in the Lucent’s favour. Finding the wharf master’s office was simple enough, located above and overlooking the docked ships and occupying a warehouse. However gaining entrance to the building was somewhat difficult, countering Siiwook’s desire for admittance with a locked portal.

Siiwook pressed his body up against the wall, bringing his face close to keypad comprising the lock. Without hesitation he began to work on it, gently prying off the device’s face in order to discern it’s machinations. Twisting about wires with two spindly arms he began to work.

((Is Siiwook able to unlock the door?))

[Cor Ischoron]

Siiwook's experience and skill help him open the door, and with a swift application of both, the door's lock clicks slightly and the door is unlocked. Upon opening it, the spider being find a small office, yet free of clutter. The wharf officer is undoubtedly a clean man. Papers stacked in neat piles line two corners of the left side of the large, white desk, and a small console takes up some space in the middle, while office supplies are neatly arranged in a pattern on the right side.

The two chairs facing the desk are similarly white, as well as the walls and ceiling. Very few items line the walls, and fewer pieces of furniture-a plant and a lamp-take up space on the floor. No one is in the room, and no alarm has been tripped.

[Siiwook]

Eagerly closing the door behind him, Siiwook began his work. Every shipping manifest was present on the able before him, sorted, ordered numerically by day. There was no order of importance, which would help him in his search. He never expected his to be on the very top, things just weren’t that easy.

He reefed through the papers, legs working like swift, ticking pistons that drove his search ever forward. All eight eyes scanned the papers, line by line and name by name. Some were memorised -those which stood out: Adrian Hammerfist, Quak’ak’abotoka, Blululu- the list wasn’t large, but it was a worth a few moments of inspection. Not for the possibility that his quarry had documentation but because it was a brief glimpse into the luxurious lifestyle of Naboo. Fancy fish, meats, off world shipments that would normally bankrupt a small mining town with a stroke of a pen. It was a hard thing to fathom, the immense pretentiousness that boiled away hard earned credits.

There.

A large shipment of herbs and spices coming in from Muunilist leapt from the page. Drawing from his pool of knowledge in the way of poisons and flora Siiwook could discern that the payment for the cargo was far too high. There was nobody in this shipping town that could fully pay for such a composition. There was also a number of blacked out sections of Coruscantian standard font that caught the spider’s attention. They interrupted the regular flow of words like a crescendo of rests in the midst of a concerto finale. He made note of the name Solomodst Armadast. A strange dissonance of a name that hurt his head to think about. Too many syllables in the second half of creature’s calling was likely the reason. Something about such names bothered Siiwook. He dismissed his own feelings of apprehension quickly and moved on.

After setting everything in the room right again, as he found it, he moved to the door and peered out. Seeing nobody he scuffled out and shut the door behind him making sure to engage the lock behind him. He hugged the floor and crawled vertically up the wall.

Siiwook was sure that nobody was around but it was logical to keep in practice his arachnid traits. Doing menial tasks in the temple have made him...soft. He had lost a bit of the edge he gained from Felucia. Hopefully more field work would return his skill.

It had been too long since he fed. The Rot was beginning to set in. The bottomlessness of his belly moaned lightly. Something akin to the low rattle of a prisoners shackles, heard far off. That maw countless creature passed through and were converted to nutrients, minerals -whatever. Siiwook needed nourishment soon else he would go mad. With hunger came the headaches, and slowly his thoughts would decay into a drunk state of blood-thirstiness. Hopefully he would find his quarry before that happened. Ideally he could drag Yasif Tarik away and catch two birds with one web. Both completing his primary objective and solving his hunger issue.

Siiwook knew that Captain Solomodst Armadast still had his ship docked in the bay somewhere. There was a slight cargo back up in the small town. It was early summer and there as a large influx of festival material being shipped to and fro. However there was also a great increase in black market goods. Nothing enormous, but enough to put the authorities on watch. However it was the best time to be a crooked dock worker as the payout was much larger. Hopefully the arachnid would either find the ship of Armadast, ideally finding the master of the vessel as well.

[Siiwook]

A low hanging fog drifted in over the docks from the water. Uncharacteristically bright the drifting moisture clung to the coiled ropes, sealed wooden transport boxes and numerous nondescript items strewn over the area. The generated dew created thousands of pinpricks of light, highlighted by the crude lighting posted at regular intervals down the jetties. Features took on a blue grey metallic coating in the failing moonlight. The yellowing lights gave the texture of old parchment to those it touched.

Siiwook skittered across the docks, taking a moment to scent the air and admire the fresh scent of an early morning. He would likely need to sleep during the day to avoid detection, but he wouldn’t be able to rest in the water spouts he occupied earlier. Somewhere dryer and out of site would work. Perhaps he could have been able to find Armadast’s ship and rest there? On the ship there was also a large crew, a sizeable snack for the road home if need be. Siiwook’s mind worked as he made his way across the rooftops of the dockyard. Looking out over the water he searched for the make of the ship, an old converted hauler with a crane named the Saucy Mare. Amongst the numerous trawlers, cutters and giant silhouettes of freighters there were a good deal of ships matching a familiar form of the Saucy Mare.

Across the water there appeared to be a floating city, quietly bobbing on the water. The numerous boats that weren’t setup in dry dock or tethered to the wharf staked out their own little piece of temporary real estate before festivities began, or as they waited to unload their cargo. There were only a few indicators of the crafts’ presence; points of light hanging along their hulls, silhouettes with deadly highlights along the sleek metal bodies, and the occasional figure passing over a deck light. From approximation there were around twenty ships in all that could have suited the target’s frame. There would need to be a closer inspection to discern if Armadast’s ship was present.

Siiwook made his way vertically down the wall and back into the wharf. With minimal effort he was able to commandeer a small wooden craft, nondescript and clearly forsaken. It wouldn’t be missed by anyone. Untying the dingy and pushing off his forelegs Siiwook made off onto the lake. It was awkward managing the oars with either leg but he managed to string two to his arms. Pushing over the moonlight surface of the lake he kept low to the floor of his ship, feeling the tide periodically pushing him back towards the shore. By the time Siiwook make his way to the collection of larger ships his legs were tingling lightly. Pushing the slight discomfort aside he quietly scanned each ship, searching for the Saucy Mare.

((Is the Saucy Mare amongst the flotilla of ships?))

[Cor Ischoron]

The rowboat slowly pushes along through the water as Siiwook's eight eyes scan the harbored ships. They're packed together like a poor man's coffin, but each are beautiful and in prime condition. Some are primitive, if sleek, sailboats, and still others are the year's top model of repulsorcraft. Names such as Skipper's Fortune, Greasy Bottom, Sweet Mary, and Craft's Revenge lay stenciled, spray-painted, painted, or etched into the hulls f a few ships scattered around.

After scanning the rows every now and then, he finds the Saucy Mare. It's a large cargo ship, but still small enough to be fit into the dock with the private craft. Locate near the shore, it boats a large double mast for the classic sail loo, but Siiwook can notice that they're solar sails. Expensive and advanced, this boat shines in comparison to many of the boats around it.

[Siiwook]

With his limited knowledge of sea faring vessels Siiwook was generally out of touch with what was aesthetically appealing to sailors. The Mare however was a lovely ship. Gaudy in some areas, around the windows along the body, golden rimmed against a red plating oozed class, bronze plating along the masts, and an enormous amount of fillagree. It was a discomforting amount of detail that detracted from the natural beauty of the ship’s fine craftsmanship. Siiwook felt his stomach flip-flip with disgust. An artist himself, a tailor, he had a natural taste for aesthetics, and it was easy to tell that nature of the captain of the ship.

There was little time to give any commentary on the choices of captains and their boats. Siiwook was busy with an objective in mind. Someone had managed to betray the cult in such a way as to demand swift retribution. A big arms dealer had split when the siege on Korriban grew too much. Yasif Tarik continued to elude assassins, other would be hopefuls of the Cult, many turning up dead in one way or another. Siiwook had taken on the task of finding and killing Yasif. He planned to take it one step further, making the gun runner an example of what happened when one betrayed the Lady. Yasif’s death would be slow, agonising if need be. First came the matter of finding the man and his associates.

Scuttling up the side of the ship with practised ease, Siiwook hopped onto the deck, keeping low and dipping behind a crate. Much of the area was lit by torches, casting long and weary shadows all around. The fog licked over the edges and spilled onto the deck, dew collected on tarps, ropes and to the metal plating of the floor. Siiwook squatted near the forward mast, peeking up and looking around, on the look out for possible threats, and meals. Knowing there was at least a skeleton crew running the ship whilst others were on land.

With practised precision Siiwook crawled about, setting up a complicated network of feeling threads, from his vast store of webbing. Unlike his regular web these were frailer webs that were used purely to keep track of prey across the boat. Sensing the vibrations along these webs alerted him to the presence of others. A simple exercise employed time again by Siiwook in establishing territory and hunting grounds. With fine crisscrossing wires now spanning the floor he waited in silence.

((Do the sensory webs pick up anything?))

[Cor Ischoron]

Leg's practiced skill and patient waiting after laying the silky substance all around the ship allows him to detect several men creeping about outside. One is at the front and two are at the back. However, the night sky, which had clouds slowly creeping from the east, started drizzling. Soon it turned into a downpour and Siiwook's web became useless as the water clung to it.

[Siiwook]

Siiwook turned his eight eyes to the sky, cursing the rain with a slow hiss. The humidity alone had been enough, and moving over the lake had been risky but the water had found him nonetheless. Now his strands of protein were virtually useless in spite of his efforts. He would need to rely on his naked vision in order to sight his prey. In the dim light it was somewhat difficult to see, but not at all impossible. He needed to maintain a comfortable distance from the torches hanging about as to not have his awkward movements noticed, but close enough to see. He was a leaping predatory hunter by nature but the combination of slick floorboards and surround environment put him at risk of over shooting a target. Stealth was the order of the day; slow and purposeful movements coupled with precision strikes and quiet takedowns.

Water lapped gently against the hull of the merchant vessel. There were torches lit at regular intervals along a thick chord of rope, extending from a smog stack to the bow’s gunwale. The forward deck of the ship was similar albeit the lights were fewer, occupying more of the forecastle. A number of packages dotted the deck, marked with various runic signatures of a language that Siiwook did not recognise. A number of them were marked with a traditional hazardous material symbol. In the dim light it could be seen that the ship was composed mainly of a burnished metal, probably an iron or steel. There was little in the way of decoration making the ship by itself unremarkable; a fitting image for a captain carrying black market goods, hiding in plain sight. There was the scent of copper on the ship’s deck combined with the revitalising scent of freshwater below. The smell was quickly being eclipsed by the reek of ozone and rainwater.

Siiwook scurried along the deck, sticking along the bulwark and keeping a close watch on a hatch that seemed likely to swing open. His footsteps made miniscule ticking sounds that were drowned out hum of the engine below. With practised ease he shimmed his way between two boxes at the stem of the ship, lurking and searching for the man he detected there. In short order he found the sailor standing with both hands on the railing, admiring the night and breathing calmly. Siiwook dispatched him with a dose of neurotoxin. Without much as a whisper the arachnid bound the man in webs –covering the mouth- and tucked him beneath a tarp amongst the boxes. Unopposed he moved up the leading wall of the forecastle.

The structure itself was only a story and a half tall, Siiwook leapt atop it easily and kept close to the smog stack. Peering around he noticed the two other seamen standing at bow, smoking cigarettes and chatting quietly. The cultist avoided them and instead moved over to a maintenance hatch, a door likely used by a technician to climb through to gain access to the numerous antennae cropping out from the roof.

With a deal of tinkering the lock broke free and Siiwook gained access. Gently he opened the portal a crack and peered in.

((What does he see, if anything?))