James Ward's Story

James Ward climbs out of his ship's cockpit, which he calls the Thunderbird IV. He had arrived with a package, some computer parts or something like that, and he had heard of a potential employer he was going to try to meet up with. He didn't know the precise details, but he really just needed the money so he could find another job. And then he could use the money from that one to get another one. And another one after that. It was a slightly boring life, but the thrill of the task is usually what payed off. He surveys his surroundings, and then reaches back into his ship and removes his bag, a sort of satchel. Inside it are the parts he's delivering, and the person he's delivering it to might have a job for him. He just hopes it's not going to be too much trouble.

He looks around, trying to see if the person is here.

Xavier sits by himself in the main spaceport lobby, keeping a keen eye on everyone coming through. He wears his green hoodie over his pale face despite it being past dusk, and has his backpack on his lap. The blue lights against the steel structure complemented the coming night, and a nice change from how drastically different the night appeared in the woods. Needless to say, Xavier was ecstatic to have his day out of the Detente. Well fed, too.

He knows through Terra's dark web that he is looking for 'The Courier', but an extensive deep dive through several personal firewalls across the galaxy told Xavier the man's relative age and his first name. James. He had seemed to be dependable enough, and his interactions were admittedly difficult to trace (perhaps because of a lack of experience) which Xavier appreciated. Not as if anyone would have an interest in this transaction, it was harmless enough. It was an idea Xavier had that would require a certain amount of elusiveness.

Immediately Xavier saw the one who would be his 'Courier'. He was wearing a trenchcoat, a fashion choice Xavier had once trialled with the Detente to look more menacing. It was a week of ritual bullying before he decided to return to his own dependable attire. He knew James would be looking for him, which Xavier had made difficult by not revealing any aspect of himself. He did, however, explain in great detail the times and places for the Courier to be to pick up the package and exactly where and when he should be to drop it off. The sum of his reward outvalued the ease of the request, a quarter paid upfront and the rest on delivery.

He produces a small disposable comms unit from the pocket in his hoodie. A device mass produced for business firms, Xavier had bought a bulk pack of 50 the majority of which remained in its box at home. He had tried suggesting the Detente use them, but as with most of his suggestions they had been ignored. No longer. A message is sent to The Courier's own communicator.

"GREEN HOODIE. BACKPACK. BY THE CURRENCY EXCHANGE. - X"

James Ward looks down at his wrist as his Comms gives him a notification. GREEN HOODIE. BACKPACK. BY THE CURRENCY EXCHANGE. -X.X, as in his employer, which he didn't know much about. He's suspicious of it at first, but he isn't one to question his employer's abilities. So he throws his satchel over his shoulder, looks around, and then closes up his ship. He starts to walk towards the currency exchange, and, seeing the man in the description, approaches him and holds out the satchel to him, dropping it into his lap. "Here's your stuff."

“Excellent.” Xavier said.

His voice exuded a childish sort of obnoxiousness, although his intonation seemed to imply he was at least trying to be intimidating. It wouldn’t be so bad if this man wasn’t so physically imposing. Of course, he didn’t know about Xavier’s enhanced biology.

“I’ve sent the rest of your pay wirelessly, as promised. You’ve done well. Much faster than Escargo Express. Here’s hoping the manufacturers have done their job as well.”

Xavier examined the package for any damage or signs of scuffing. It looked well enough and had obviously not been opened. Xavier put the package into his backpack, mostly empty beside his laptop for this situation. He smiled.

“You didn’t tamper with the package. You don’t seem to be too concerned with legality. Tell me, James, how flexible is your morality when compared to your wallet?”

The term ‘wallet’ was hyperbolic, of course. Very few carried around physical currency. And mentioning his name? Well, that was Xavier showing off.

James looks down at 'X' before answering his question. First off, this guy knowing his name is kind of suspicious, as he usually keeps it out of dealings like this, but he supposes that it wouldn't be to hard to find. So he'll let that slide. And he obviously didn't mess with the package, he's not interested in computer parts and all that. Another thing is that it seems that he's asking about his willingness to do a job. At least he's says he's paying him, so he checks his Comm device for the confirmation of the payment. Yep. It was there. He thinks a bit before speaking. "My morality doesn't come into jobs. It's the morality of my employer that matters. I just do the work." He feels like he's said enough, but he continues. "Look, if you have a job, I'll take it."

Xavier smiled.

“Really, it’s more a question of skill than morality. If the job is done perfectly, then no one will get hurt and no one will even know it happened.” He said. “My affiliates- subordinates, really… Have an interest in the blood banks of Wing City. We’re scientists, and the blood is necessary for our research. There is one in Wing City central that I’ve always felt charged a little too much for the product they delivered. Now when there are foolproof ways of attaining as much of the stuff as we could need, for no charge, it doesn’t seem sensible, does it? Here, have a look at this.”

Also coming from his hoodie pocket, Xavier offered the Courier a ‘USBat’, an inconspicuous little black USB with two needles on one side and a modular adaptor on the other.

“I just need you to infiltrate the bank, find their server room and pierce any of their servers with that device there, see? Once accomplished I will have a driver waiting to return you to the spaceport and our business would be concluded. Assuming you agree and all goes well, you will receive what my and my subordinates would have paid the bank. Easy money for someone like you. Am I right?”

He was very sure he was.

James glances at the employer as he takes the USB, and nods. "How much is the pay? I can't go around breaking into banks for near nothing, you know." He's not exactly unsure of his capabilities for this job, but this feels like a big thing to be asked to do. He wants to make sure he can accomplish the task and then be rewarded in a way that he sees fit. "I mean, I know it's not like you're asking me to kill anyone, but this is technically il-" He cuts himself off as he realizes most of the things he does aren't nescessarily legal, so he just nods again. "Where is this blood bank?" He feels kind of suspicious towards this guy, he honestly doubts him being a scientist, but he supposes he doesn't need the truth. He pockets the USB, and looks back up at X.

“You need numbers, fair enough. Speaks to your intelligence.” For a brief moment Xavier considered testing his hypnosis.

No, not like last time, he thought.

“50,000 Terran credits.” Xavier was bluffing, somewhat. His intention was to redirect the Detente’s next payment to the Courier. However previous payments matched the ballpark and he was satisfied that even if he was off by a couple thousand, the Courier would be satisfied as well. “You'd be headed to 75th Street, which you’ll find in the business district. Public transport will take you. You’ll head south onto northern Main Street, then east to reach the business district. From there you should have no problem heading into 75th street where our blood bank is. Not an overly popular area, but hardly devoid of human life either. I’ll send instructions via communicator once you arrive. I promise that if you follow them perfectly, you’ll have your money within 24 hours. Do we have a deal?”

50,000 Terran credits. James is kind of stunned by that figure, as it seems like a lot of money for a task like this. Usually if he were to do something like this, it would be maybe ten, twenty thousand Terran credits. And it's not even a monetary bank, so it must mean a lot to this guy if he's willing to pay that much. A blood bank... Something kind of registers in the back of The Courier's head, but it goes unnoticed. "We have a deal." He holds out his hand to shake X's.

Jay Null disembarked from his shuttle after setting it down gently on one of the spaceport's platforms, to the sound of the familiar klaxons chiming in announcement of another arrival. He click-click-clicked his prosthesis as he walked down the ramp, entering into the busy plaza below.

He approached one of the terminals to take a look over the latest listings.

Hrm... seems like the market is still stable.

he opined, looking towards Main Street, towards the south.

Others kept filing through the Spaceport, of little concern to Xavier.

James let out his hand to shake his, something that almost seemed unnatural to him at this point. After a wave of confusion washed over his face, Xavier took his hand and shook it with childlike fragility. This could be the start of a friendship, even.

Don’t be stupid.

“Perfect. Perfect. I’ll accompany you to the bank. Then we shall part ways, although as I said I’ll be in constant contact with you until the job is done. No time to waste.”
Xavier stood up, swinging his backpack around and heading outside to the public shuttle centre.

James nods, then follows the guy out of the spaceport. He still seems kind of shady, but that could be expected from most employers. Eh, he'll just do the job, and then hopefully get paid. He just needs to do it in the exact way that this rather pushy 'X.' wants.