Opportunity (Open)

It had yet to even be a full minute before the first customer of the day backed a speeder van into one of the open repair bays, as though its pilot had been waiting for the sign to flicker to life. It hadn't pulled all the way in however, and as the van came to a rest, the driver triggered the back door to open, raising up and out of the way. A brown tarp covered what looked to be a speeder bike or swoop bike, though not in ones conventional shape.

From the front of the van, the shape of a man clad in full armor appeared sliding out, the armor painted black from the small antennae sticking out of the helmet down to the toes of the unpolished metal boots. At a glance, it was apparent to any familiar with it that the armor was Mandalorian make, a few superficial burn marks on the left side of the suit marked where a prior battle had not been painted over. On each hip, the man wore a heavy blaster, and the tell tale signs of an elevated wrist launcher and flamethrower marked both wrists. A smallish, black cape hung down the back right side of his torso to the waist, revealing a foreign Mandalorian symbol as he turned around the back of the van and moved inside.

As the man pulled away the tarp on the bike, it became even more abundantly apparent that either he had some significantly heavy weaponry permits, or that he was in violation of a plethora of Coruscant's laws. The broken object that had rested under the tarp was a 797-AvA Swoop Bike produced by the Aratech Repulsor Company – for military personnel only. The sale of the such vehicles to civilians had been banned under the Empire, and the law had stuck under Republic control.

The two front outriggers of the swoop were bent mildly to the left, with a blaster cannon underneath both, and a rocket pod on the front right. The back left of the swoop was nearly unrecognizable however, laser burns and broken metal extending into what had used to be the engine. With an unsettling screech of metal, the Mandalorian slowly dragged the broken vehicle out of the speeder van, depositing it into the designated zone.

Rotating the shoulder of the arm he'd used to drag the bike out of the van, he turned to Swindon, unseen eyes hidden behind a visor black as night staring at her for a moment. One hand rested uneasily close to a blaster on his side, as though the man expected a fight at any moment. When his voice came, it was gruff and unpleasant, distorted by the filter on his helmet.

“Repulsorlift, heatsink and turbothruster are all damaged, may even need to be fully replaced. Left stabilizer and altitude control definitely will,” he said, pausing for a moment, his helmet giving the illusion of his gaze on her an unwavering quality. “An extra five thousand credits if you can get it done by tomorrow morning, a thousand less for each additional day it takes.”

Even if the swoop had been illegally purchased, five thousand credits would likely be half as much the price of a brand new speeder, even after the modifications that had been applied to this one. After the price of labor and the amount needed to replace the damaged components, it was possible the Mandalorian would pay more then the original price of the vehicle. There had been no uncertainty in the filtered voice however, an almost uncaring edge to the man's tone.

“I can have whatever new parts you'd need delivered today, if you give me a list,” he announced, moving his arms across his chest, helmet visor unwavering as though he was glowering at her. “Can you do it, aruetii?” he asked, the filtered voice issuing it as more of a challenge of her capabilities then just a simple question.

The Mandalorian maintained his position and gaze with her assurance that the mechanic would get it done as soon as possible. He made no comment or indication that he'd even noticed the girls slight stutter after she'd repeated him. He did nod slightly however when Swindon told him what parts he would need, no doubt making a note of them. When she walked over to the tool cabinet, his helmet turned slowly to follow her with his gaze with each step.

As she mentioned the turbothruster, his gaze finally shifted from her for the first time since she'd entered the building. It continued to pan the area, almost as though he was searching for something, until it finally came so settle on the ginger cat. His head tilted slightly to the side at a small angle, as though he were studying the cat intently while she walked back over with tools in her hand.

At the mention of his weapons being undamaged, the visor snapped away from the feline, locking itself back on Swindon. The movement was subtle, but his right hand had inched closer to one of the blasters and his poise held all the relaxation of Rancor. He said nothing for a few seconds, then nodded slowly again. “Fortunate that.”

With a slight jerky motion of his head to the side and back, a portion of her words began emanating from a speaker inside the Mandalorians helmet. "-new power pack, a couple of slave circuits and a new seat-" It was clear he intended not to forget what Swindon had said he'd needed. If the man had managed to set the recording, select what clip to play, all without use of his hands, then either the helmet had a neural interface, or more likely it could be controlled via eye movements. Either way, his head gave a slight nod again, and he spoke.

“I'll get the parts you need first,” he said, as though to explain what the recording was for. “See you soon.” With a slow and deliberate turn, the gaze of his helmet left her once again, and he headed for the door of the speeder van. As far as wasting time was concerned, between his request and departure it was clear he meant not to waste any. With a humming, the speeder van's rear bay closed and the vehicle departed into the city. The man had left neither name nor contact information, but if were to return soon, it would not make much a difference.

The sun had just finished falling when the Mandalorian returned, ducking into the garage through the back. The speeder van he had that morning seemed absent, and while a normal customer might have come in through the front, it seemed the man had no regard for what a normal customer might do. Under his left arm he carried a new seat as black as his armor, and a clear bag in his left hand contained the power pack and slave circuits she now required. There was another addition to his gear now however, a collapsible blaster rifle was fastened to his right leg and a small jet thruster extended slightly from his back.

He went straight for the bike, his visor turning towards her for a moment and acknowledging her presence. With a relaxed motion, he propped the seat up next to the old one, and set the bag of parts down next to a clutter of tools. He crossed his arms and gave the bike a once over, inspecting the work she had done so far. Slowly and methodically, he circled the bike, visor pointed towards the swoop bike as though he was examining every last detail. Seeming satisfied, he turned back to Swindon, walking up to her purposefully.

“Impressive progress,” he stated flatly, more as if it was a simple fact rather than an actual compliment. “Most shops would waste a week trying to get this much done.” His visor settled on her, as though he was inspecting her as he had that morning, before it began sweeping around the shop as though he was looking for something misplaced. One hand moved towards a blaster on his hip reflexively, as though he expected some trap.

“Are you the only one here? I wouldn't have expected someone of your age to be able to handle this by themselves. No offense,” he added, his visor snapping back to her for an instant as he made his hollow apology. Still, his voice was accusing, as though Swindon was hiding something from him despite simply doing her job. Every inch of the man seemed tense, like a dog backed into a corner, waiting to strike. His gaze of the room finished, the sweep ending back on Swindon after he'd given her cat Cuddles one last stare. “How much longer until you'll have it finished, now that you have what you need?”

The Mandalorian nodded slowly, visibly relaxing a bit. For the moment, Swindon's answer seemed to have sated his unease. He nodded again as she explained that she would be tired in the morning, no doubt expecting as much if she was going be up working on it all night. As she continued on however, and asked her about finding a place to stay, he tensed again. Something clearly had the Mandalorian on edge, more so then that morning had, but at the least it wasn't directed at Swindon.

“I-” he began, though was quickly cut off by the muffled sound of a call coming through the filter on his helmet. Whatever he had been about to say, he replaced it with “. . need to take this,” and the man sauntered away to gather a bit of privacy in the corner of the garage. He was still facing her when he finally settled, as though keeping watch while he leaned against the wall with one foot resting on it.

Small bursts of noise came through his filter, though in his hushed voice it sounded like he was whispering to whoever was on the other end. “Yes. . . . then just leave, it's not worth . . . I still have it, but I don't think. . . .” It was impossible to make out more then a few fragments, but eventually what sounded like a farewell was given. The Mandalorian continued to stand there for a moment, sweeping the garage again. The gaze behind the visor swept past Swindon again, and her cat, but as the metal box on the ground pulsed, his stare came to rest on that.

As the box pulsed again, he left his spot on the wall, the Mandalorian walking back up to Swindon. As he moved up to her, he pointed loosely at the box, before crossing his arms in question. “I'm not a mechanic, but I know enough to get by most of the time. Don't recognize that though. Looks like some kind of power pack maybe. What is it?”

The mercenary, if that was his occupation, turned away from the box as she began to explain. He glanced back to the box, then back to Swindon, head tilted as though studying her for the first time. The visor was unwavering as she finished, uncertain tone or no. He seemed to not even hear her words as she assured him his swoop would be ready, still staring at her. Slowly, he turned back to the box, arms crossed over his chest.

When he finally spoke again, his voice held a bit of incredulity to it. “You're saying. . . that while repairing a speeder, you just. . . decided to make a prototype of a perpetual energy device?” The tone of voice said that any accuracy to the claim was complete ludicrous, but the Mandalorian continued staring at the box. He dipped back into his own language for a moment, still clearly surprised. “Ni vaabir nayc urmankalar bic. . . Kaysh cuyir dini'la.”

“If that prototype actually works. . . . there are those who might pay millions for such a device. . . “ he said absently, still staring at the box. With a slight scoff, he shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of some thought or another. “And at least one who would hire you on the spot.” He shook his head again, turning away from the box and back to her. He seemed to study her again for a moment, looking her up and down.

“Finish the bike and the five thousand credits are yours, but if you manage to get a demonstration of that box working by the time I come back tomorrow to prove it does what you say, well. . . .” he trailed off, considering for a moment before continuing. “If it works, I could promise you an interview with my boss at the very least.” He didn't quite sound satisfied with that, but he nodded slightly in assurance, still sounding a bit incredulous that she had done what she said. “Think on it,” he proffered in parting.

With that, he was striding back towards back door, to be off into the night, not waiting bothering to wait for an answer from her. As he neared the back door, he could be heard speaking again, clearly having contacted someone as he began to depart. And the words 'metal box' were audible for a brief moment before the Mandalorian disappeared into the night.

((OOC: I won't hurt you, though I would like to make some suggestions. Not sure how long you searched, but DeviantArt is often an excellent suggestion for finding images of random things if you can reason out suitable search criteria. For something cobbled together in a garage, I think this might be more suitable. More of a frame of a box, with the light coming from the energy source itself rather then from indicator lights. If you preferred something more developed, this could also work, though it seems to have more precise creation. Either way, you could've honestly just left it up to the readers imagination ))

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Outside of the repair garage, the sound of a speeder pulling up outside reached the interior of the shop, soon followed by the sound of the front door opening. At first, it seemed there was to be another customer that morning besides the Mandalorian. As the unfamiliar figure appeared in the doorway however, it became clear that he was neither a customer nor the Mandalorian. He was definitely human, and his eyes swept the room, taking in the speeder, the cube, Swindon, and her cat.

“Good morning,” the man said, giving her a hollow smile as he moved into the room. He wore a full suit of body armor, a completely different style then that of the Mandalorian. Most of the armor was a dark blue, with the shoulder pads and utility belt painted yellow. A shoulder strap ran from the belt over the man's right shoulder, with the letters 'CSF' painted in yellow over the left breastplate. There was no doubt that the man was a part of the Coruscant Security Force, and a band around his right arm indicated that he was a detective. A heavy pistol hung on his utility belt, along with a a stun baton, stuncuffs, and other equipment typical of a CSF officer. The usual mysterious helmet that kept their anonymity was held under his left arm and pushed against his side, its mechanical eyes powered down for the moment.

As he approached Swindon, it was clear the detective intended to be friendly instead of trying to strong arm her into whatever he wanted, an action typical of any of the officers that worked from the lower levels. Either the man thought he'd get more out of her from being polite, or he was a detective from the upper levels of Coruscant.

“My name is Detective Stormrider. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions,” without waiting for an answer, he pulled out a holocommunicator, pressing play on the device. Above the circular projector, a scene began to play out, an indiscernible man in black armor evading laser fire from the telltale signs of police speeders, flashing lights and sirens blaring. It only went on for a few seconds before a rocket shot from one of the police chasers, colliding with the back left of the swoop bike. The speeder disappeared in a burst of fire, and the recording stopped.

“We found the crash site not long after, but the criminal – and somehow the bike as well – were already gone. All that was left was the hole they made in someones apartment and a few leftover pieces of scrap metal from the collision,” the officer explained. “We believe them to be a Mandalorian based on scans of the armor, and the individual is wanted for questioning concerning the recent death of Senator Omigrapgh. I'm sure you've heard of it on the news. Usually when someone runs and shoot back at you, they're guilty. This person took out three other police speeders before we shot him down, and he's considered armed and highly dangerous. Most likely has accomplices as well, based on his escape.”

Turning away from her, he walked towards the speeder she'd just repaired, eying it suspiciously. “To be honest with you, the vehicle we shot down looked fairly similar to this.” Detective Stormrider turned back to her with a smile, a knowing look in his eyes. “Is there anything you'd like to tell me, ma'am?”

The officer raised an eyebrow as she stuttered on her name, but stayed silent, letting her finish her explanation. He eyed the swoop bike suspiciously, but recognition gleamed in his eyes at the mention of the Museum of Technology. As Swindon finished, he sighed, kneeling down and giving her cat a few pets. If he found her untrustworthy, he did not show it, though he continued looking at the speeder suspiciously, only glancing at the pulsing red cube once. He was completely uninterested in that, and didn't bother to spare the technology a second glance.

“Well, Sweden, I thank you for your time at least,” Detective Stormrider said, standing back up. “As damaged as his speeder was, I'd keep an eye out for anyone bringing in any that have weaponry and look like they took a rocket recently. He's extremely dangerous, after all. If the fugitive does appear, don't try anything foolish. You can call the CSF and ask for me by name, and I'll bring enough officers with me to handle him.”

The officer turned to go, giving her a warm smile as he turned to leave, then stopped after a few steps, turning back to face her. “Special demonstration, you say? I've never been much for technology myself, but my son loves that museum. The curator even gave us a private tour once. I'll have to give him a call, see when this event is happening.” The detective gave Swindon another warm smile, tipping his helmet to her. “Thank you for cooperation ma'am. You have a nice day.” He slipped his helmet back over his head, and then he was disappearing out the front door. The sound of his police speeder disappearing came from outside, and then the garage was quiet for a moment.

In that moment, the Mandalorian chose to reveal himself from the back of the garage, a flip up screen apparent on his arm. He gave no greeting, completely silent, and walked around the room as though looking for something. After another few moments, the black visored mercenary flipped the screen on his forearm closed, turning to face Swindon. The way he crossed his arms at her questioningly was enough to say that he had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Detective Stomrider.

“The Galactic Empire mostly used the 74-Z model. Only the Republic's reconnaissance divisions use the 797-AvA model, so far as I know. If he'd known that you'd likely have been arrested on the spot. Not to mention he'll be back for you as soon as he realizes there's no secret event at the museum.” Eyes hidden behind his visor, it was clear the Mandalorian was staring at her curiously. For the moment though, whatever question he'd been pushing towards was left unspoken, and he moved away to inspect his speeder. He glanced at the red cube as he passed it, before taking in the rest of the speeder. The gaze from the visor glided across the swoop frame, stopping monetarily over the control panel before continuing on.

Satisfied or not, the Mandalorian turned away, no expression to hint at whether or not he was pleased. When he spoke again, his voice was calm collected, flat and businesslike. “First things first. Why did you lie to the detective?”