Captain Ortho Gutt
The skinny man had greasy slick-back hair, a long nose that seemed to remind Ortho of some off-world rodent, and eyes that darted about as if the man was in a constant state of caff withdrawal.
"It was not easy to come by this information." the man said, looking around from time to time as if knowing the 501st Stormtroopers would come smashing into the nondescript eatery they were in.
Ortho was wearing his off-duty suit (a two piece as a one piece was not kind to his body). The air circulaters must have been moving at half speed (if that) for Ortho's head was sweaty and his armpits began to release copious amounts of liquid and stench.
None of this was noticed by the skinny man before him (who must have been a jawa in another life).
Ortho's discomfort was hidden by a show of blustering belligerence, "Let me guess, you had to hack into IHC's encrypted mainframe?" he barked out in scorn.
The man looked surprised, "No.. Not the IHC... too many security traps there. No.. No.. Ministry of Transportation!"
Ortho's eyes narrowed pretending to know what the skinny man was talking about. "I don't want repo'ed aircars or speeders!" He felt like reaching across the stained table before him and throttling the useless man.
"What?" squawked the other, his voice breaking in nervousness.
"I am looking for.." Ortho began again and the other man suddenly found some spine (or a part of one) for he bit back, "I KNOW what you want? But you just can't slice into the government. It's not like slicing through butter with a knife or squirting jelly out of a roll!"
The fidgety man slapped his hand on the table and some alien waiter came over.
As the man began rattling off an order for food that impressed even Ortho's gargantuan appetites, he turned back to ISD Captain, scratching a crusty off his nose. He ignored where it landed on the table.
"Look. Just because the government confiscates this old junk does not mean that they just leave it there and call it Cache #482. They 'pick it up'! Who do you think the government goes too when they need this done? The same place the Merchantile people go to! The same place the Civil Authorities, MP's and other department chartered to police us! Civilian towing companies. Civilian moving companies.
Now, not everything is legit and not everything can be found this way, but I did find
something."
As the man was driveling on, Ortho had the distinct impression that the man knew what he was talking about.
So, Ortho reached out to the offered datapad as the food arrived and as the skinny man attacked his plate as if it were his last meal, he scanned through the scrolling data.
He looked at an odd notation and asked the other man about it.
Dripping yellow yoke of some poor creature's egg that was fullfilling it's destiny as breakfast, the skinny man looked over and added, "That means the items were not alone."
"Not alone?"
"Manned."
"What am I going to do with vessels taken while their crew was still around?" In fact, Ortho had thought that perhaps the caches were full of items left by dead rebels. Not those still living.
The skinny man scratched his head as if in thought but plucked out an offending tiny bug and flicked it away. When he looked up, his eyes gleamed with a cruelty Ortho had not noticed past all the nervousness.
"I suppose it depends on how long they have to live, no?
That was something worth considering and Ortho stroked his third chin as the other slurped up the goey mess called breakfast.
