She recovers her composure and shifts back into her smooth voice again, "We are currently not on the best of terms with Death Watch... I'm not at liberty to give you any more information on the matter."

Kara straightens, her thumbs tapping the table. That statement, Kara began slowly, her voice even, Sounds suspiciously like you where luring us into a Death Watch trap.. or were looking to hire mando's to fight mando's. Kara adjusted her focus to the icons on her HUD, that showed what Cade and Ge'tal were looking at. Ge'tal and Cade's icons stopped scanning the room, and slowly moved to Kymber.

Her eyes get wide and she leans back as Cade and Ge'tal stares turn on her. The Barabel nonchalantly flicks his cigarra into the street and walks up behind them, staying out of thrown-elbow range, but ready to intervene should it be necessary.

"No, no, not at all!" She protested. "Gorka's always looking for skilled mercenaries, and I didn't even know about our issues with Death Watch until after I approached you."

Kara relaxes back into her seat, Alright..so you have problems with Death Watch, we have problems with Death Watch.. Do you propose we cooperate with each other?

Cade makes a note of the Barabel, but trusts Ge'tal to hold her own against it. He scans the tapcaf for anyone else that appears to be the Bothan's escort.

Kymber gestures out with her arms, "Why not? We both have problems with Death Watch, you want money, and Gorka wants elite security. Are you ready to meet with him?"

As Cade scans, he sees a few people eyeing the group curiously, but there is one customer, a burly human, who looks a bit too ready to be just another customer. He is seated in such a way that he can keep tabs on the situation without turning to look, allowing him to be less noticeable.

Kar'ika.. Cade says over their private channel, inaudible to anyone from his sealed helmet.

Kara checks her HUD, then leans toward Kymber, Kara's voice is barely over a whisper. We assume the Barabel is with you, but is the big human over there? Don't look, just answer... In fact, given our shared circumstances, please disclose how many are with you.

She shrugs, "Yeah, those two and another one. You didn't expect me to meet with Mandos all by my lonesome did you?" she grins again, that big Bothan smile.

Kara tilts her head, No, but if we mistook them for Death Watch?

She sighs, "It's a fair point. Look, do you want to meet with Gorka or not?"

Kara waved a hand towards the door, After you.

"There is still the matter of your weapons... Gorka is unlikely to be willing for you to keep them on your person, so what would a suitable compromise be?"

So you want us to turn in our blasters with the possibility of Death Watch attacking your boss? Kara asked.

Kymber bites her lip, "And your swords to. But, and I mean no offense, but for all we know, you could be the Death Watch sent to kill Gorka. We have to take precautions."

Kara clenches her fists into tight balls. She knows Cade's hand is on his bes'kad ready to swing on the nearest threat.. She can only guess what Ge'tal is likely to do, being accused of being a Death Watch member. From what she had heard of the gunrunner camp, it was likely very violent.

Gar ru'kir cuyir ulyc ti gar uram, aruetii di'kut.. Kara growled. Kara rolled her neck and took a deep breath. Kymber, she said carefully, I advise you watch how you phrase things from here on out.. A lot of Mando'ade wouldn't like to be accused of being a member of those cowardly terrorists.

"I didn't accuse." she gritted, eyes flicking around as she takes stock of the situation. "I don't think you are. It was an admittedly clumsy attempt to impress upon you why we take precautions. If you'll excuse me, I'll talk to Gorka. I'll see if he is willing to accommodate you."

Kara seemed to relax, simply nodded once.

Kymber fished her comm out of her pocket as she walked out of the tapcaf, holding her hand over her mouth as she talked. After a couple minutes, she came back in. "Gorka has said you may keep your swords, and Kara, you may keep your pistol. However, you must unload the rockets from your wrist launchers and check your other pistols at the door. Is this agreeable to you?"

That's acceptable.. Kara says. For now.. she thinks as she goes through a mental inventory of weapons available to the assault team. This will be interesting...

Kara can hear the other two grumble over the secure link. Kara switches to the other secure link, Dar, vi cuyir bat cuun ara. Pehea cuyir gar?

While the other team was negotiating with Kymber, Maya and Darien had nearly reached the bank. They'd gathered plenty of looks along the way, and a few of the people had asked if they were alright. Maya had simply gripped the edge of the fake Death Watch helmet harder, scowled, and continued walking.

Earlier that morning she'd woken at daybreak to get back to work on the disguises, seeting her jacket aside along with the helmet, Sabacc control, and Darien's outfit he'd picked up for the job. She wanted to make sure it looked as authentic as possible.

She started with blaster fire first, taking a shot at the right eye of the helmet. It burned through the durasteel as close range as it was, cracking the visor. Fortunately it hadn't scarred the back of the helmet, which would be useful if they tried to inspect the helmet closely. Next she took a shot at the lower side of her jacket, putting a hole through the front and back of the fabric just outside of where her left side would be - a narrow miss. She didn't bother scarring Darien's outfit, instead splattering some of the ash around. An appearance of proximity, but no wounds himself. She wasn't fond of the next idea, but she let her hair out of the ponytail, ruffled it up a bit, then put a shot through her hair hanging on the left side. She could feel the heat of the laser as it passed by, hair falling to the floor as it left a laser burn on the inside of the storage bay. She'd probably need to apologize for that, but further inspection told her it hasn't caused any real damage.

Next she took one of the wrist blades from the vambraces, cutting a hole in the arm of her jacket right below the shoulder, straight into the fabric. Once that was out of the way, she started on the painful part. Using the wrist blade, she sliced her palm open and held it to the cut on her jacket, letting some of the blood run down the outside as though an arm on the other side had been pierced by a blade. Satisfied, she spread the blood around her palm and placed her hand on the hole in the helmet, dragging it down to smear a line.

She was happy to be done with the stinging hand a quickly administered a stimpack, sighing deeply as the slice on her palm faded away to nothing. After stepping a way to clean the blood from her hands, she inspected her handiwork. Satisfied that the disguise was sufficient enough to make it appear like they'd been in a fight, she put her jacket back on.

The next step was letting Darien know the story, so they had the same details in case any opportunity arose that they would be questioned separately, or an opportunity presented itself for him to add to the conversation.

After they'd left the casino the previous night, the Death Watch assassin had ambushed them in an alley way while they'd been trying to avoid anyone following them. Ge'tal, or rather 'Jade', had been killed as soon as the ambush had started. 'Tyra' had narrowly avoided a few shots before the Kyr'tsad had closed with them and stabbed her with a wrist blade. Darien, who'd need to select a fake name as well, had managed to shoot the Death Watch assassin in the head before he'd managed to finish off 'Tyra'. After that, they'd found the Sabacc cheating device on the assassin, and had taken his helmet and laid low for the rest of the night.

Disguise? Check. Story? Check. All that had been left to do was go to the bank. They headed through the back of the hangar, the same way they'd came in the night before, winding through the streets as they wound through Ord Mantell. Maya grew increasingly nervous as they grew closer to the bank, hoping her luck from the previous night wouldn't carry into the next day. She spoke was the bank was in few, doing her best to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

"Do you think there's anything we could've done to better prepare?"

He kept scowling in case anyone was looking, "I'm sure you'll do fine. Just act a little less jittery. On second thought, maybe that'll help." If Maya had looked up, she might've been able to catch the corner of Dar's mouth turn up ever so slightly as he fought to maintain his scowl. I miss my helmet. So much easier to keep a straight face when your face is made of Beskar.

When they enter the bank, they are greeted by the Chagrian, who is quite shocked at their appearance, but ushers them into a meeting room with Valek Signa who looks toward them eagerly as they enter. His lip twists up into a smirk at their appearance, and as the Chagrian leaves, he gestures towards the door, "Close the door and have a seat. I've been expecting you."

Maya nodded at Valek with a grimace before turning to close the door, taking a few seconds longer then necessary as she stared out. “It seems I owe you an apology Valek,” Maya said as she closed the door and headed to the seat. She dropped the helmet onto his desk as she sat. She flexed her arm a bit as she relaxed back in the chair and sighed. “It would appear you didn’t cheat me last night after all.”

He reached under the desk and the door clicked, "There. Now no one can hear us. So. The helmet?" He picked up the helmet and turned it over in his hands, examining it.

“A Death Watch Assassin. I narrowly escaped with my life,” Maya began to explain, motioning to her appearance. “One of my bodyguards wasn’t so fortunate. On the body,” she pulled the device off her belt and tossed it onto the table next to the helmet. “I found this.”

He glances at it and plunks the helmet down. "You don't work for Gorka." He says bluntly. "There may be people out for you, there may not be." He leans forward over the desk, his bracelets clanking as he rests his arms on the metallic surface. "But you don't work for Gorka. Miss 'Tyra Bryn,' if that is even your name, which I doubt, you are here to rob Gorka, and by extent Jabba." He lets this sink in a moment, then says determinedly, "I want a cut. Half, and I can help you." He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers and grinning in a self-satisfied manner.

“You can help me by giving me the credits,” Maya replied, taken aback by the accusation. It wasn’t something she had been expecting. She wasn’t willing to give up just yet, but it was possible he was only bluffing here. She had added her name to the list. “Why would you think I don’t work for Gorka?”