A confident and proud man saunters through the bustling crowds of the Dakarin lunar space station. As he made his way into the lively parts of the merchant and trader complex, everything around him appeared to be in even more disarray. The man, who was well-dressed and had messy black hair, seemed at ease in the maze of booths and stalls.

When he walks into a building, his red skin catches the artificial light, and his yellow eyes scan the people in the room behind darken shades. He was careless for he didn't put out his cigarillo before entering the metal-framed structure. It appeared to be a bar or an adult club of some kind. His short raven black hair shifted slightly as his head rolled onto his shoulders, followed by a crack. Amid interstellar commerce, he couldn't help but appear and move with sophistication.

Kalrith approached a fellow businessman, a stout figure with a shrewd expression, after spotting the designated meeting point. "Alaric, my friend," he said with a charismatic grin, "I hope you're keeping the seat warm for me." Kalrith sat down in the dimly lit backroom. Allowing himself to become so relaxed that his finely polished shoes were propped up on the table, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"Always fashionably late," the man grumbled as he made a gesture. A gesture that Kalrith did not act on. "I've got the news that can't wait, my friend," he mockingly repeated the last part of his sentence before gesticulating once more, and a waitress got the message. She vanished into the crowd to get them drinks.

"Well, you know me, Alaric," the devilish man said as he leaned back in his chair. "My trademark is being fashionably late," he joked with the man, smiling to show his teeth. He had canine teeth that were longer than those of humans. In some ways, it resembled a beast or was more animalistic.

"So, here's the deal," Alaric chuckled before forming a smirk on his lips. "I have a job that is delicate in nature. Nothing too fancy in terms of retrieval. Valuable package requires a discrete touch," the man said with his hands most of the time, but he kept rubbing his nose with his pointer finger. Something bothered him.

"Retrieval, eh?" Kalrith inquired, raising a brow. "You know how I feel about sensitive issues. Alaric, details, details..." The man tapped his fingers on the table's metal surface. His neatly kept nails tapped with an echo that was muffled by the background chatter and music.

"Classified," the man leaned in on his elbows as if to whisper or get closer to Kalrith. "All you need to know is that it's a high-security facility on the outer rim. You'll have to sneak in, grab the package, and get out without raising any suspicions."

As he heard the word classified, his yellow eyes fell into thought; he despised it when people mocked him in this way. - classified my ass - He thought without any distinction of unpleasantness in his mood, "High stakes, high reward, I assume?" he replied with a nod. He needed more information.

Mister Alaric kept his smirk on, knowing exactly where Kalrith was going with that question, "You catch on quickly, my friend." Now comes the payment. "I've got 10,000 Stellars on the table," the man said, motioning as if 10,000 credits were an acceptable payment for this job. It was true to a point. They both knew Kalrith was going to argue with him.

"Alaric, my dear friend —" Kalrith said, slipping his legs from the table and leaning forward, "— you're robbing me blind here." Retrieval missions aren't for the faint of heart. "How about we raise it to 15,000 for classification?" Kalrith was always willing to haggle over the price.

"Kalrith, you're as relentless as ever," Alaric chuckled as he shook his head in the negative. "Fine, 12,000, and not a credit more," the man knew Kalrith and his ever-changing crew could do almost anything he wanted. Kalrith always seemed to keep his promises.

"You drive a hard bargain, Alaric," Kalrith smirked, there was a certain tone and twist to the red man's tongue when he said Alaric's name. "When it comes to a classified mission, I can't do twelve. Tell me what is classified or increase it to 15,000," With his words, his tone seemed to become more solemn. When it came to his crew, he didn't mess around.

As Kalrith became more stubborn and his eyes sharpened, the man seemed to sigh, and a lingering silence formed between them. "Fine," said the man. "As always, it's a pleasure doing business with you," Alaric leaned back, raising the glass that the server had just set down. "To success and minimal casualties!"

"To discretion and the allure of cosmic capers," Kalrith raised the other glass, and they both took the shots with ease. As the men let go of the glasses, they clicked to the table almost simultaneously.

"Speaking of allure, did you hear about the space pirate who stole a shipment of knockoff designer spacesuits?" Alaric grinned and decided to continue their social time together. "They claim he made a clean getaway in stellar style."

"A classic, Alaric," Kalrith chuckled, his pearly whites showing, knowing the man was testing a joke to freshen the air between them. He always did this after the bargaining part of their conversation. "But enough with the capers. What's new with you?" the man inquired, genuinely interested.

Their conversation seemed to seamlessly transition into small talk, the backroom buzzing with subdued laughter and glasses clinking. Kalrith, the charismatic figure, decides to loosen up as the mood lightens. He signals for a shot of the finest Dakarin spirit with a confident nod. Kalrith raises the glass in a toast before downing the shot, sealing the deal and embracing the intrigue of yet another interstellar adventure with a sly grin.

Client:
Mister Alaric Voss

Objective:
Retrieval Mission. The mission entails infiltrating a high-security facility on Veridian IX's remote outer rim planet and retrieving a classified package of enormous value to Mr. Voss and his intricate network of interests.

Extra Information:
The high-security facility, which is nestled within the desolate Veridian IX, is said to house classified information, advanced technology, or an elusive artifact. The specifics are unknown, but the value of the package is undeniable, making this retrieval mission-critical.

The facility has cutting-edge security systems, such as surveillance drones, biometric scanners, and automated defense mechanisms. Furthermore, the harsh environmental conditions on Veridian IX, which include unpredictable weather patterns and corrosive atmospheric elements, add an extra layer of complexity to the operation.

Package Details:
The package can be identified by the ID#A2B4C7D9E1F3G5H8.

As he met with a business associate, Kalrith told the crew to wait on the ship, explore the Lunar station, or do whatever their hearts desired. He then gave each of them 350 credits for good behavior. Crew members who have known Kalrith for a longer time would recognize that he was meeting with a business partner whom he values because he is being generous.

His golden eyes strained to see nothing — what a clean floor for such a rusted and filthy building —, and panic began to rise in his stomach. — What a lovely floor... — His brain was analyzing the lack of information beneath and around him. There was no divinely inspired cloud of fluff of innocence. Most individuals would be unable to deal with such speed. Before, a hum began to burn through the air. CRASH!!!

The man was bouncing his toes and glancing about while on the heels of his slick shoes. As the deep golden glow flared into the scorching coals of a fire, his eyes burned with wrath. — Oseillie, where have you gone?!? —

BAAhh!!

His shoulders felt instant relief as he allowed his head to roll while keeping his eyes closed, a loud crack muted by the music and commotion that rattled the little establishment. His secret shades of gold scowled at Alaric. "We're presumably done here. I'll see you later." With a casual expression, the man pointed to the door and spun on his heel. The man was not being gestured at by him. A motion in the direction of a lamb, a smaller life. At the gesture, she bounced and made a playful move towards Kalrith, then leaped back and trotted in the direction of the door.

The man who worked with the devil remained seated at the table, shaking his head negatively, "What a strange man... a peculiar one indeed, " he reflected on himself before firing off another shot with the skill of a seasoned alcoholic.

Kalrith was headed back to the ship, desperate to leave this miserable artificial platform. Before he had to ruin everyone's fun and summon them back to the ship to explain everything, he at least wanted to get back on board and unwind. It wasn't really complicated. It was a simple stop-and-go situation, so he was hoping that no one would bother him or that he would leave them behind.