Fandom Star Wars: Dedication [IC]

[Adobe]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

"Here we go" Nirea muttered under her breath. Shed been working as a bartend for a couple of years now, and if she picked up one thing, crowds lead to arguments, and arguments lead to gun fights. Looking up at the new pateron, she had to suppress the laugh as she regained composure. "Sure thing, kiddo".

As she turned and stood up from her chair, the words 'sith' caught her of guard, this would be a conversation she would try to avoid. Pulling the cup under the tap, she stayed unusually quiet as she listened to the people talking behind her.

Ever since the first gunfight, she had kept her lightsabre on her, tucked far enough underneath her clothes such it wouldn't catch any attention. Bar keeps normally didn't get shot at, but her paranoid side got the better of her. So even now, she couldn't stop her hand instinctively reaching towards the spot it always was. And she was having a nice day aswell.

Turning around, she oit a smile on her face, pushing the full cup of green foam towards the obviously out-of-his-comfort-zone man, sitting back down in her chair, noticeably quieter than before.

 

[Locklaklazarii]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

Fokan smiled, for the first time today she was getting somewhere of note, "I am asking, a Noble of the ruling families of the Chiss Ascendancy, and what else of course could I offer you but Wealth, I have some credits, but more importantly if you help me with this task I'll give you my ship." She came a little forward slid some Wupiupi on the table towards the bartender in an unspoken transaction for a drink of any description, "What you job is in an abstract sense is to give me the trick that I will keep up my sleeve for more important situations. Does any of this interest you?" She said with a confidence of someone who clearly had the advantage in the situation despite her having no meaningful advantage.

 

[Srale]

Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex

Zalrian nodded slowly while Soth spoke. He then sat still for a few moments, before slowly walking onto the balcony and standing beside her.

"Believe it or not, my aspirations are not power in the way of an army, or followers under me, my aspirations, are to increase my personal power and skill. Both in the force and with the blade. I want to be the one to unveil dark secrets. I want to be the one to destroy the Jedi. Not so I get a following, but so I get glory, both for myself, and the greater Sith Order. Now answer me this. With these statements being true, why would I want to betray a great powerful Sith who can help me achieve the hopefully mutual goals of my hopefully future master?" Zalrian said slowly, being mostly truthful. He would eventually want his own personal small elite force of Sith assassins to use to slaughter his opponents quietly and quickly, but not for the purpose of increasing his own political power.

 

[SidTheSkid]

Dezmund 'Dezzi' Niktano
Group: Vagabonds (None.)
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley - Chalmun's Cantina.
Status: Uninjured - Relaxed - Searching for a pilot.
Tags: D. Rex - Cid, Bruhaha - Sinclair, Adobe - Nirea,
Locklaklazarii - Fokan.

Overhearing the irritable tone in the one man's voice who he had just bumped only seconds ago, Dezmund reluctantly turned his skittish attention towards the man and quickly realized his mistake. Contents of the patron's drink had now begun pooling amidst the bar's counter; his accidental bump had caused half the man's drink to spill onto the bar as well as almost emptied the glass onto the scruffy individual's clothes too, but fortunately for the Eshan it didn't otherwise Cid's 'benevolence' would've probably ended right then and there! Dezmund expected his clumsy interaction with the man would've ended right then and there but the person's gravely-sounding voice was soon heard again, offering a trading proposal after he'd clearly noticed Dezmund's credit-chip; without a doubt, this was a blatant rip-off since anyone well educated enough would know that a Pegat was roughly forty credits, not fifty.

There was an almost pitiful laugh edging its way out of Dezmund's mouth, he knew he was being played for a fool but as of right now he was desperate for something to drink; traversing through the nearly endless dunes of Tattooine for multiple days at a time with only a few sips of his canteen in-between breaks had made him miserable, there was also speckles of rough sand lining his throat from all the traveling he was doing, a drink right now was a necessity! "Very crafty, I suppose it'd be rude of me not to oblige." His fidgety disposition promptly disappeared along with a part of his credits after handing Cid his chip, cautiously watching him afterward to make sure he didn't overcharge it. "Once again, I apologize for earlier; i'm not exactly used to this kind of overwhelming heat as you can tell, it must've gotten to my head or something." His silver-blue eyes and 'pale as snow' had made him vulnerable to the eternal wrath of Tattooine's suns, Dezmund might've picked out the right outfit for the environment for he was in but he certainly did not pick out the right skin for it.

"Kiddo?" He helplessly watched as Nirea had pretty much pegged him for a naive teenager, Dezmund's complexion had swiftly changed into a bright pink as he noticed the bartender suppressing her laughter on the inside; albeit a predictable outcome, he still felt extremely embarrassed for his previous actions, that and being labeled as a child. "Guess it's better than being beaten up." He reflected to himself, shrugging off his disgraced look and nodding in appreciation to the woman who had given him the outlandish cup of green-foam which was supposedly alcohol of some kind, a kind that he's never seen before. "Thank you, miss." Those very words struggled to seep out from his mouth as he worryingly focused on his glass, mild disgust forming on his expression as he watched the foam bubble across the rim. "Well, these drinks sure are uh... Unique, nothing like the ones we have on Eshan!" Not wanting to look like more of an outsider than he already was, Dezmund gulped down his pride in addition to the disgusting-looking drink that was served to him.

Surprisingly it turned out that this stringy-tasting alcohol wasn't all too bad, in fact, it was far better than most drinks he's had on his home planet! Before long his simple taste-test had transitioned into a full-on chug as he hoggishly clasped the sides of his drink and gulped it down; perhaps his actions might've been an over-exaggeration to some considering the strange looks he was getting but it didn't matter all that much as he was blessed to have gotten the bits of sand out from his throat, the slimy texture of the drink also helped with aridity of his throat as well. His relief soon turned into amazement as he noticed the Chiss woman across from him, she too had a certain beauty to her but that aside it was primarily how important this person looked that had managed to gain his unwavering attention; speculation in his mind thought of her as some sort of special militia figure, it made sense from how well-groomed she was, it sort of made her look more out of place than he was.

With curiosity getting the better of him, Dezmund decided to eavesdrop on the conversation she was having. The Echani's momentary silence had lasted for almost a minute until she had mentioned having a ship of some kind. "A Ship? You have you own space-vessel?" Certainly, this was convenient! It just so happened that he was looking for someone who had owned one after figuring out Kitanni's last known location, he hadn't had any luck with any of the previous folk whom he asked but this, however, looked promising. "I do hope this doesn't come off as strange but are you willing to take someone along with you? I've been meaning to get off this planet and onto Ossus; it's quite far-off distance from Tattoine but i'm more than willing to pay the credits it takes to get there." He hoped that she would at the very least consider his request, if not, he'd hope that someone who was a pilot and was within ear-shot would have heard his plea.

 

[D. Rex]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

"No worries kid. These suns will poison even those from the most desert ridden planets." He said, pocketing the credits and producing a single pegat that he pushed toward the pale skin. And he gave a smile as he did. A rip-off was a dirty way to put it. It was but a simple transaction. He got what he wanted, Cid got what he wanted. The cost of doing business was simply an exchange of perceived value. Not to mention the cost of a spilled drink.

Cid took his time mulling over the offer of the chiss. A chiss noble woman would certainly have a great amount of wealth to offer. More than he would be keen on passing up. Needless to say, he was intrigued.

"I take it you are the owner of the Kazellis in the port. The only ship there worth offering." He sucked in his tooth a moment in thought. "But it is only good for me to sell. Even should it be in pristine condition, a collector would only net me around thirty thousand for it. Mine may not look as pretty, but it's fast. Point two faster than a class one. With plenty of nifty tools a pilot like me needs."

"That said, I am interested in the offer. Though the proce will be determined on the job, and the credits you offer."

"I'd be more than willing to be your ace in the hole. But what sort of tricks are you needing? Dodging sith? Sneaking into the empire? Infiltrating a blockaded planet? Escort? Secrets will cost you exra."

"Then comes the matter of time. Am I following you for a single run? Or you want to pay me for an on call basis. If that's the case you are paying for punctuality. I can cover that. But that will come with the insurance I will need should I be in the middle of hauling goods to come to you at a moments notice. Not to mention the hit to my reputation would take doing so."


He leaned forward, "You would be hard pressed to find a pilot that can outfly me on this half of the galaxy."


"Speaking of... boy Ossus is on the other side of the galaxy. You want someone to take you there, you are gonna have to shell our some serious credits, or hope to catch somebody on a run passing that way."

 

[GrieveWriter]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford SidTheSkid D. Rex

The streets had eyes, and Rel'tesi knew exactly why.

An obviously injured man made for easy pickings to anyone with the gall to make a play. Every time a head so much as turned in his direction he tightened his grip on the hidden blaster. He could hear whispers, the sounds of questioning looters wondering just how quickly they could rifle through the pockets of his corpse no doubt. Whether by luck or the stayed hand of fate, he managed to approach one of the local cantinas without being mugged. It was the little things he'd learned to appreciate.

Entering the establishment, he found exactly what he expected to find: loud chatter and people of all kind gathered with the subtle stench of illegality wafting about.

Pausing for a moment to manage his gait, Rel slowly approached the bar before sitting down with a wince. He didn't speak first, working instead to manage his breathing as he fought the aches off his wound. As much as he wanted to get off this planet before that damned bounty hunter found him, he knew the odds weren't good that he'd be able to survive the trip off planet. He needed to get patched up first, needed someone who'd keep quiet and send him off for some quick pay. Then he could move quicker, acts faster. As it was, he was trailing at a snail's pace.

Before he could issue a question to the barkeeper, he felt something that made him grow still: the force. He immediately cast a look around the cantina, shifty eyes darting from patron to patron before his gaze returned in front of him. Pulling his wrappings tighter around his face, he eventually raised his head towards the barmaid, he looked her over for a bit before lowering his gaze, "Kinda lost at the moment, Ma'am." Rel paused to take another heavy breath "Mind pointing me in the direction of someone who knows... medicine?"

He wavered a bit before his eyes darted to her again, "Preferably someone along the... Quiet type."

 

[Adobe]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe
Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford SidTheSkid D. Rex
GrieveWriter

Nirea felt it too, the tingling at the back of her mind sent all her reactions onto alert. It was a sith, the chances of a jedi even being alive were low, and the chances of one stumbling into a bar, almost zero. She moved over, placing her arms on the counter, looking the man over. God, she prayed he was hurt enough to pass her by.

"Depends on who hurt you in the first place." She answered, placing her hand over the impression at her waist. Even in this state, she wouldn't stand a chance. "Not the hutts, they'd sell you out for even the hint of credits." She pondered for a moment, before settling on an answer. "I'm going to be honest with you, if you want 'quiet', you'll have to pay, ain't an honest sole in this whole city." She looked on at him with an almost apologetic smile. "Look, how about a drink on the house, and if you really need it, speak to boss in the back, couple of truguts, and he'll patch you up." She turned her back, heading back towards her seat. "And if I see someone looking for a twi,lek, I'll tell them to shove off." She finished, taking a step towards her seat.

 

[Locklaklazarii]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

Using her index she outline her jawline fully evaluating the situation, "While I'm sure you're quite good at avoiding Sith, my job is rather to the opposite of that, I want to get something believe the Sith have. This would most likely involve the capture of a Sith, but don't worry I have no want for you to rush into a hive of Sith. As for payment I offer you my ship, and my services with no expectation to get paid, assuming I get a bed and food, because I have a feeling that somehow your line of work tends to attract the attention of the Sith Empire. Do you follo-" just in that moment Fokan noticed the new force user who had just stepped up next to her, this put her slightly on edge, but she quickly returned to the conversation. "I just need to get a high ranking official and ask them a few questions." she gave a sinister smirk. She took out a coin rolled it on her knuckles fast and precise before flipping it up and grabbing it. "Do the terms suit you or are more negotiations needed?"

 

[HighSanguinaryPriest]

Group: Eternal Crusade
Location: The Restorer, En-route to Mustafar
Tags: D. Rex Rusty of Shackleford Chak

Eberron Strode before the assembled force, now standing at attention and under the scrutiny of the Warden Paladin and the Commander of both the ship and company of True Mandalorians. The Hanger was as silent as the grave, as The Restorer approached the volcanic world that had once tormented the paladin in his early childhood. He quickly quashed the feelings of rage and revulsion, and instead focused on his attention on his brothers and sisters in arms, wardens and mando'ade alike. Finally he broke the silence, his slightly distorted voice ringing out through the hanger. "Wardens, Gatle Mando'ade, Brothers and sisters of the Eternal Crusade. Within the hour, we will be assaulting the old Jedi Temple located in the the Smoking Forest region. From there we will use the compound as our forward operations base as we take key targets, all vital to the war effort. Our Primary targets on this world are the foundries, crystal fields, and slave markets and pens." He stated before differing to his friend and fellow commander.

 

[D. Rex]

Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale


"A very narrow definition of power." The bothan stated slowly in her smooth voice before pointing a finger down to shadowy depths between the buildings. "Nearly every worthless creature down there strives for just that. Glory is but a fleeting feeling. To strive for that is to limit yourself."


"You did not answer why I should not kill. I will, however, answer your question, so that you know the importance of answering mine."

"For many years the rule of two has determined that we do just that. A constant cycle of ascension and betrayal. To such a degree it is now our standard. The One Sith have not been around long enough to destroy such a powerful tradition. You would want to betray him because it is in your nature. To use him and disgard him, much like you used the One Sith. Like a parasite. You have no force of being, no ideology to anchor your will. Yet you havent the wisdom to see that you are about to stumble into a lair of a beast that looks so lowly on your kind that you are beneath prey to him. The only effort to be wasted on you is to squish you, and remove the stink of your presence. Should you get your wish, and are taken to him. Only two options lay ahead for you. Death, or to re-learn what it means to be sith."


"That is..." she paused, casting him a sideways glance as she raced a brow, "...if I even decide you are worth taking along. You need to tell me why I should risk my hide to reccomend you."

 

[Srale]

Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex

Zalrian opened his mouth to speak but stopped pondering what she had said for a moment. He thought for at least a minute, sitting in complete silence,turning to face out into the night. After this time of thinking, he would turn to face Soth.

"You want to overthrow your master, once you have learned everything you can from him, I am assuming?" Zalrian asked, turning to Soth, looking her in the eyes, no longer hiding the Sith features of his face or his essence. "Please, do answer truthfully." Zalrian finished.

 

[Sophileon]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid


Patron upon patron entered the bar, and some left stumbling along the way out of the doorway. Bob could hear the loud chatter and clinking of glasses and he knew that he was missing out on all sorts of fun. Moving from the left side of the doorway to the center where he could peer in he could make out the outline of Cid sitting but he was surrounded by people.
Were these individuals meaning him harm? Did he have to storm the bar and save Cid? Taking the moment to collect himself he casually shifted himself so that he blocked the entirety of the door and magnified his vision to get a better view of the interior.
Various races dotted the tables and bar itself, but none were making any sort of attempt at being hostile, but still! Bob could not bare the loss, and his right hand calmly moved to the bandolier of grenades and began caressing one in particular. He could lob it in the opposite direction and that would surely rouse the attention of the denizens of the bar he was barred from entering. Then he could leave this area with Cid in tow and they could go on to their next mission.
The idea passed his mind and then left it deeming it an unfit idea. They had come here for a job, and Bob need only be patient which wasn't his strongest trait. Instead of grabbing a grenade, Bob grabbed a really intoxicated Rodian and slipped him a few credits and spoke "Tell that bearded man at the bar that I miss him and it is quite boring standing out here being a sand trap." and with that he let the Rodian go and moved back to the left side of the door, but still kept himself visible so Cid could see how lonely and bored he was standing outside all alone with no one around to talk to.

 

[D. Rex]

Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale


Soth's mouth twisted into a most derisive sneer that only a bothan could make. The trademark fur, while having been still this entire time, moved as if a waved rolled over her body. She was quite amused, and she could not quite help herself from showing it.

"To ask a bothan to be truthful, is like asking a hutt to give to charity." She let out a soft little laugh.

"No, Zalrian. Should I need another to bring him down, it would only show how much I truly would still need him."

Her eyes narrowed in mirth. "Your mind still follows the old ways. And you neglect to see the folly of letting power go to waste. Overthrowing him serves nothing more to me than cutting off my own leg."

"The way forward, is to surpass him. After which he will serve me. And by extension, I make him stronger in return. It is through that combined effort that we will grow our power." She explained.

She looked him over, "So determined you are to join him, while at the same time undermining him. That mindset has led the sith to fail repeatedly over the years. Remove the threat of the enemy within, unless you wish to hand the Jedi even more victories."

"Or do you truly believe that killing one's master somehow gives you more power? It certainly cant be about freedom. If I wished to leave... I could do so now."

 

[Srale]

Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex


Zalrian didnt react much to what Soth said for a moment, first taking in everything she had just told him. "I wasn't implying that I wanted to overthrow Lord Bellator, I was asking you that question. I wanted to know. You said this philosophy of only 2 Sith Lords is based on the apprentice betraying the master and either failing or succeeding, at least that's what I got form what you said. That is what I was saying. I want to help increase the power and glory of the Sith Order by increasing my own power, and by increasing my own glory. If I ever did surpass Bellator, I would only take leadership if that was my duty. Not something I would demand. I think that is what causes division. To much lust for political power." Zalrian said, explaining himself and his thoughts to Soth.

"As for killing one's master, I disagree unless that master is a detriment." Zalrian said to Soth, calmly turning back towards the city and staring deep into the night sky.

 

[Bruhaha]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid


Sinclair's electronic eye swiveled wildly above his ravaged cheek, trying to track the procession as the motley band of patrons veritably flocked to his part of the bar. Sinclair's paranoia continued to mount and he quietly cocked his PR-72 Handcannon.

My boys need credits and that's why I'm here, to kill Jedi and to collect. Sinclair thought.

But the tantalizing idea of chasing down pampered Sith and rich planetary officials made his mouth water. The Chiss's proposition sounded good, albeit a little too quiet and a little less violent than he would have liked. Sinclair kept his head down, and listened.

 

[D. Rex]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid Sophileon


Cid rubbed his beard. "So let me get this straight... you are going to give me your ship, then work for me for free, barring room and board. In return, unless you have a very specific sith in mind, I'll be carrying on business as usual and in the off chance that we run into a situation where we can reasonably bag ourselves a Sith, we do so."

"The question I would have now, is what services do you have to offer?" Yeah... chiss had some fancy school he's heard about in passing, but she was a self admitted noble woman. Noble in general tended to be soft and spongy. Throw one with a pretty face on her to further add complications. Still... this chiss seemed to hold herself well. And was certainly quite confident in her determination.

"Barring that, I think this deal suits me just fine." He said, offering a hand for her to shake.


At least, he was until a very nervous ordain approached them. "Shiiir..." the rodian slurred in its distinct tonal warble. "Shzome droid... said he misses you and that he is b-bored."


He leaned in, almost making himself entirely off balance. "I-I think it is an ass-assassin droid." It whispered.


Cid craned his head towards the entrance... and his gaze met the glowing circles belonging to the cylindrical head of an IG unit. A very disturbing sight indeed. Especially those not used to seeing the notorious design of the assassin droids. Still creepy even to Cid.

The bearded man frowned quite sternly at the robot. He had barely been in here for five minutes, and he couldn't even let Cid enjoy a drink in peace.

However... rather than wave him off, Cid instead gave a resigned sigh. "Fine..." the man pulled out a comlink, "Bob, go tell Elora to get Glory ready. We got a job, and company. I'll meet you there shortly."



Stowing the comlink, he stood from his stool. "Alright lady, get what you need from your ship. Go ahead and sell it and bring the credits to docking bay 4. We will do our introductions there."


He then pointed to Dezmond, "Kid. Six thousand credits for a straight shot to Ossus. If you dont have it, bring what you got, and you can ride until we happen close enough to make a detour. Docking bay 4, we leave soon. Make your decision quick."

Lastly, he pushed his half empty glass towards the sullustian. "Here. Enjoy the rest of this for me. Good luck on your revolution." He said, patting the sullustian on the shoulder.

"And you," he said, pointing at the bar tender. "Sorry about the mess, and thanks for the drink. It's nice seeing a pretty face behind that bar for change." He complimented.

 

[Adobe]

Group: Business Class
Location: Hoth, Rollan Villa
Tags: Chak


Mirian clutched the white mug inbetween her finger, relishing the warmth radiating through the ceramic. She watched as the soft night breeze blew a soft mist of snow along the plain of snow. The peaks of a distant mountain range lined the horizon, covering the ever setting sun as the night slowly began to descend on the villa.


Mirian let out a long breath, stretching out the hand that wasn't firmly around the mug. A small smile crept along her face. After months of tedious meetings and arguably the most stressful fortnight of her career, she could finally relax, away from the bustling city. Alone at last. She deserved the break, after all, she had just closed one if the biggest acquisitions this side of the decade. It had been tough, getting the old Twi,Lek to sell had been the biggest pain, the old man didn't budge for months. The attacks on Abafar, the company went under, the Twi,Lek resigned, and the remaining plants were bought.


Finally she could hear her own thoughts, closing her eyes and listening to the soft crackle of fire. It was impractical, there were better ways to heat a room, but it reminded her of home, and the many holidays to her family estate on Naboo. Taking a sip, Mirian pulled out a small data pad, glancing at the time displayed in a white glow. She was brimming with anticipation, for her little side project was finally about to bear some wings.


Mirian pulled her white jacket from the hook it hung from, pulling the fur lined hood up over her head. unlocking the door, she stepped outside onto the landing pad. The soft hum of a distant craft began to sound as she squinted, watching the gray spec grow larger and louder, taking a step back and pulling her hood round to cover her face as snow was blown towards her. As she peered round the furs of her hood, she watched as the landing gear engaged and the engines shut off, quiet returning to the snow planet once again.

 

[SidTheSkid]

Dezmund 'Dezzi' Niktano
Group: Vagabonds (None.)
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley - Chalmun's Cantina.
Status: Uninjured - Excited - Following Cid.
Tags: D. Rex - Cid, Bruhaha - Sinclair, Adobe - Nirea.
Locklaklazarii - Fokan , GrieveWriter - Rel'tesi

Providing for the beverage that he had received earlier, Dezmund placidly drove his slender fingers atop of the peggat's silver-finish and pushed the coin over in the direction of the bartender before shifting his hands back onto the comfort of his own lap. "Can't even describe how great it is to have that dry feeling in the back of my throat gone; i'm not even sure how much kicked-up sand i've accidentally swallowed just by riding through these dunes on a rented jumpspeeder." He blissfully mentioned, Dezmund promptly cleared his throat afterward in an attempt to clear away any leftover debris that might've been lodged in there, subsequently returning back to the conversation he was previously eavesdropping on; regrettably discovering that the Chiss had just now offered her entire ship as a form of payment to the scruffy gentleman. "That's insanity, an entire ship for a single job?" More-so bewildered by such an extravagant trade rather than discouraged that his recent ride had just been swept under his feet, Dezmund continued to listen-in, keenly anticipating some kind of logical answer for this unexpected trade-off of theirs.

As if things couldn't get even more interesting than they already were, an abnormally lengthy individual had managed to stumble his way into the cantina; a lonesome Twi'Lek that proved effective when it came to gaining the attention of almost everyone in the establishment, arriving with this mysterious figure was an overbearing sense of danger; their sheer presence was almost enough to change the entire atmosphere of the bar in an instant. Rather than discerning the evident looks of concern on both the Chiss and Bartender's face as dread for the person in question, Dezmund misunderstood this as slight awe considering that the Twi'Lek was showing signs of a potentially serious injury, at least from the way he was limping! Although he genuinely felt bad for the stranger's misery, there wasn't anything he could really do; Dezmund wasn't a surgeon of any kind nor was he a simple doctor and his only experience in the medical-field was creating a splint for his ankle after painfully twisting it during one of his many travels.

Offering condolences was one of the only things he could really do in this situation, but instead of doing this he decided to feign ignorance of the man; he couldn't help but feel awful inside for doing such a thing, still, assisting the man would probably just end up complicating things or making things even worse somehow. Soon enough Dezmund's wavering attention was brought back onto Cid and Fokan's interesting conversation where he was able to immediately unearth the reasoning behind the Chiss's puzzling decision to offer up her ship in exchange for the man's help, this dangerous job of hers involved stealing something from a sith! Dezmund nearly choked on his own saliva once she had spoke of them likely capturing a Sith to do this as well. "Do you really expect to let one just willingly walk to you with open arms?" He expected the man to have the same kind of reaction, however, he willingly accepted without even giving the decision a second thought; these two must've either been the craziest bastards in the galaxy or two people that were 'hiding' extraordinary skill 'under their belts'.

Suddenly he found himself being given the opportunity to come along with them, of course, their trip to Ossus would be their furthest journey and would perhaps be the last one they embark on but it turns out that he might be the only one compliant enough to take him there; Dezmund had about three-thousand or so credits to his name and the typical expense to the voyage to Ossus from Tattoine would cost around six-thousand credits or even more! "So you're saying you'll take me with, despite not having enough credits?" It was almost too good to be true, nevertheless, Dezmund decided not to question it further and ultimately accepted Cid's generous offer, regardless of the dangers the side-mission that both him and Fokan were planning on doing. "Right now I have three-thousand credits to my name, it's half the amount it takes but i'm willing to help out in any way I can!" Knowing that Cid would probably be skeptical of this, Dezmund listed a few skills that a pilot such as him would find useful. "I'm experienced in surviving in harsh conditions, i've managed to live alone on a couple planets for quite some time and it's made me pretty decent at navigating and surviving the terrain as well as salvaging rare materials, plus i'm able to speak four languages so if you ever need something translated i'm your guy! Erm.. As far as taking care of myself physically, the only thing i'm really 'good' at is hand to hand... Y'know since i'm Echani, it's sort of tradition to learn martial arts."

Taking a deep breath after excitedly rambling off his words, Dezmund was wishing that Cid would make an exception for him as far as payment goes; it was likely that he'd take advantage of this debt and use him for certain things but at least he wouldn't have to pay off the whole six-thousand if he accepted, nonetheless, even if Cid did happen to decline it would only take a few months of scavenging or fishing to make up for the other half of his payment. "I suppose i'll go ahead and meet you at Docking Bay 4?" Unseating himself from one of the bar-stools, Dezmund repositioned the cloak that'd be draped around his shoulder to his face area, wrapping it around like a makeshift tagelmust before making his way towards the entrance/exit of the cantina and waving back to the one bartender.

 

[Chak]

Group: Business Class; Standalone
Location: Hoth, Rollan Villa
Tags: Adobe

It had taken the persistence of one of the other men on the ship to ultimately drag Day out of her meditation, something she had been undergoing while having fallen into a measured rhythm of one of her simpler dances. It had seemed that the ship she was currently serving on had reached its destination, and the packages that they had intent to deliver were being prepared to get off loaded. Being one of the more lowly of the ranks on board, and also that her time on board was specifically in return for her work, it was unsurprising that she herself was expected to take part in the offloading.

Making a point to leave her Rising Sun in her quarters, she habitually set her hilts across the back of her waist as per the norm before checking the hidden holsters in the legs of her pants. Satisfied with the expected results Day began making her way through the by ways of the ship as she made her way to the cargo ramp. Apparently running somewhat behind, most of the crates were already loaded up on grav lifts and manned. The Nikto captain, Li-Argo, seemed to take note of her arrival and pointed to a wooden crate little mor than two feet in width.

"Day, it's good that you saw fit to join us. Finally. Since the other crates are manned, you might as well take that box. And BE CAREFUL. None of your spinning, twirling nonsense. I can replace any of the rest of this cargo, but that chest is worth more than all of it put together by far. It breaks, I'll leave you here in the tundra."

For her part, Day didn't take much of what the Nikto said to heart, namely because the idea of her being so clumsy as to be unable to carry a mere chest was laughable at best, and downright insulting at worst. Alighting across the hold, Day reached down and wrapped a hand around the bottom of the chest. As soon as her skin made contact a familiar thrum rippled through her. The power of the force was never something to be trifled with, and it was strong in the crate. Reaching out with her senses, the near-human let her eyes fall closed for a moment as she attempted to get a read for what may have been locked away in the chest.

The tell-tale thrumming and familiar read hinted of crystals, same as those that would be found borne in the hilts of a force-wielders saber.

That they were being collected by a business woman of all people did at least set her mind at ease. While her travels had taken her far, at least she'd not found herself stepping off on a planet of Sith. While she wasn't their enemy and wouldn't have wished to fight them, many of them likely wouldn't have seen her in the same light.

Bringing her mind back to the present, Day rose up, the chest firmly held in her hands, and began walking out into the snow with the business woman's prize. As for the cold, Day merely let her mind rely on the force to keep the edge off aas she made her way towards the buyer, intent on seeing what she wanted done with the chest that she'd clearly spent more than a small fortune on.

 

[Adobe]

Group: Business Class; Standalone
Location: Hoth, Rollan Villa
Tags: Chak

"Captain Li, good to see you made it, any later and youd be caught up on one hell of a storm!" Mirian chuckled, all to awear of the the winds beginning to lash out around her coat. She pulled it tighter, watching as the various boxes and crates began to move from out the hold. "Oh, I'm sorry." She exclaimed, noticing one of the crew members definitely wasn't as keen on the Hoth climate. Mirian trudged over to the door, brushing her hand over the black imprint at its side. The electric hissing indicated the door was intact open, the warm orange glow from inside the villa all to alluring.

"And, if I'm not mistaken, my 'privacy', is as guaranteed as always. I see you have some new additions." Mirians eyes shifted over to Day, eying up the women carrying her precious cargo. Li gave a chuckle, ensuring her that his new crew was as trustworthy as it had ever been and if any of them talked, it would be the last thing they said. As the last crate was halled into the villa, Mirian hopped round the piles of cargo, until she was stood in front of the reinforced crate the new crew member had been carrying. Bending down, she proceeded to wipe the snow off the keypad built into the side of the box, thumbing in the code she had ser previously.

"My... , don't scare me like that!" Mirian shouted, looking up from the floor at the woman standing behind the crate. She had been so eager to retrieve her order, the woman hadn't even crossed her mind as a passing though. "Your the new girl, Li defently know where to find some strange...." as soon as she had started talking, she stopped, for her eyes were now intently glued to the saber hilt she could see poking out from behind the girl. The confidence she once had all but absent from the room.

 

[Bruhaha]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

Sinclair looked to the wounded Twi'Lek leaning heavily on the bar.
Sucking a long puff on his inhaler Sinclair rasped
"Hey stranger, I've got some sub-cutaneous Bacta injections, no need to rely on shady tavern docs to patch you up. They'll kill ya and take your creds anyway."
Sinclair sensed a kind of pressure bearing down on him from the Twi'lek, a barely undisguised power that made it even harder to breathe. But the Sullustan had been to Ryloth before, and supported their bids for planetary independence-- he saw them as a sort of kindred spirit.

"Here"
muttered Sinclair, offering a twisted claw of a hand clutching two 30CC injectors of Bacta out from under his vest:
"This should keep the infection off of you at least in a filthy place like this comrade."

 

[Chak]

Group: Business Class; Standalone
Location: Hoth, Rollan Villa
Tags: Adobe

"Strange, yes. But what's the fun in being nor..." Day started, but trailed off as she saw where the buyer's eyes had trailed down towards. It was clear the rancor bone hilts had caught the woman's attention, and further past that, it was clear that such a purchase would imply ramifications or other action from any of the force sensitive factions running about. Sith would want the crystals for power, Jedi for safety, mercenaries for money from any side willing to buy.

As for herself, Day had little care for the crystals, but worrying the buyer hadn't been intended.

Raising her hands up in a placating manner, Day gave an easy smile. "No worries. I'm no Jedi, nor Sith. Bit of a freelancer all things considered, but by and large just a traveler that does work on the side. Oh, and of course I know how to keep secrets." Day added with a wink. "Anyhow, I should probably let you get back to whatever it is you rich folk get up to before Li-Argo gets after me for bothering the customers or something. Enjoy your purchases, and sorry for the not-a-Jedi/Sith scare."

Leaving the buyer be, for worries that if she upset her that Captain Li would dump her at the next spaceport, Day started making her way back towards the cargo ramp.

 

[Sophileon]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Docking Bay 4
Tags: D. Rex

The comlink chirped and before long Bob was listening to the gravelly tones of Cid giving him direction.
Not a moment after the link was severed Bob was taking to his feet and moving at a brisk pace towards docking bay 4.
Turning down an alley he bowls a Jawa over, but continues moving even while his cylindrical head turns and a voice saying "Sorry about that, pal."

Sand was an annoyance, but luckily Bob was an agile assassin droid and was weaving and bobbing in and out of throngs of people easily.
It wasn't long before he found docking bay 4 and then their ship Resplendent Glory, and glorious was she. Bob took a moment to beam up at her majesty before moving towards the ramp that would lead inward.

He would find Elora doing Elora things and mostly ignored her.
"Ships been filled and taken care of, I take it?" It was more or less rhetorical because at that moment Toaster, the baby Nexu Bob had taken as a pet, came rapidly bouncing down and jump tackles Bob. Nimbly catching the furry creature, Bob gleefully struts away from Elora and towards the main hub of the ship to patch into it to run a diagnostic test to ensure all systems were good to go; turns out everything was swell.
Taking a seat he roughly plays with Toaster awaiting Cid and whomever else he managed to swindle into joining them for whatever reason..

 

[GrieveWriter]

Group: The Sith Warlords
Location: Darth Non Stronghold
Tags: D. Rex Rusty of Shackleford Sophileon Midrick

And there it was, the incentive.

Zen leaned back in her seat as she watched Non assuage Bellator's concerns, the smile she sported under her helmet growing wider and wider. So far it seemed that they were dealing with either a complicated ruse or an absolute fanatic. These presents of his could be traps, despite the lack of ill will radiating throughout the force. Those data chips could contain horrid viruses that could run rampant throughout systems, crippling fleets or factories in mere moments. And what of the Holocron? Would it protect one's link to the force? Or would it fry the mind of those who dared try to unlock it?

But despite those possibilities, Zen had found it unwise to doubt the will of the Force. So if he was honest, then they were dealing with quite an opportunity. He seemed to believe what he was saying, and his devotion to the future he spoke of seemed palpable. Looking around the table, Zen took in the appearances of those who were apparently destined to usher in a new age of the Sith alongside her. Three items for three of the chosen, the sources of said items a suspicious mystery. But it was the meaning behind the nature of these items that made Zen coo under her mask.

"War Machines, Doomsday devices and secret knowledge of the Force." she recanted before clapping her hands together several times, "Bravo, Darth Non. Rewards such as these would go far to strengthen any single military power."

At that she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table while tilting her head to the side, "But these aren't intended for any single galactic power, correct?"

Turning her gaze back to his offerings, she rose from her chair, "In fact, it would seem that unlocking the full potential of these gifts would be arduous for a single one of us." she noted while casually gesturing to the others in attendance "Given the confusion Krayt's death has wrought upon his rabble, it would seem we've been offered further golden opportunities to seize upon his kingdom before anyone else."

Folding her hands together, Zen began to walk around the table while eyeing the massive room it was located in, "What once was an insurmountable force now lays with its belly up, waiting to be ravaged. Here we have the tools necessary to carve up its remains quickly and efficiently, but only if utilized alongside one another. A suspicious convenience indeed, but one I would be foolish to ignore."

She continued scanning the starts shown beyond the massive view panes, casually walking around the table several times as she spoke, "And what say you? I would greatly like to know where my supposedly like-minded peers stand on the matter."

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

Rel'Tesi leaned forward, letting his head rest on the bar as he steadied his breathing some more. The pain was getting worst, made his grip on his weapon tighten. He might not have completed his training as a Sith, but he had learned to make pain a tool. It was useful, helped strengthen the connection with the Dark Side. While his master's ravings about the power of the Dark Side and how it empowered its wielders had often fallen on deaf ears, he used what he remembered now to steady himself. He needed to keep from passing out, being unconscious in a place such as this was akin to a literal death sentence.

The Bar maid offered a free drink that he wanted nothing more than to accept, but then came the offers of potential aid in the back. All it would take were Truguts. He had a good number on him, having converted a good portion of his credits in preparation for arrival in Hutt Space. But would it be enough? He tilted his head to the side while running through possible prices a bar boss's medical aid might cost. As he did so, he managed to pick up the tail end of conversation that seemed to be occurring between several nearby patrons. Dealing in ships and trips, just as expected. As much as he wanted to offer some money for a trip into hutt space, he was more sure than ever that he needed aid before he could risk such a thing.

So as one group of people seemed to wrap up their dealings and begin taking their leave, he merely laid there debating whether this random bar maiden could be trusted. It was Tatooine after all, he wouldn't be surprised if he walked into the that back room and ended up waking up in a fight pit two days later.

Before he could start questioning her on that possibility, a Sullustan nearby offered him something he almost felt that he couldn't refuse: Bacta. The Miracle fluid itself held within a convenient little syringe. It didn't seem like enough to completely heal his wound, but it wasn't referred to as a 'miracle' for nothing. Rel'tesi wordlessly accepted the syringe, hesitating only briefly as he wondered of the potential dangers it provided. His teachings had reminded him clearly of numerous attempts to sabotage Bacta in the past, turning the universally accepted cure-all into a literal degenerative toxin. But even one as wary as he winced under the growing pain of his wound and ended up injecting himself none the less. He leaned forward for a moment, his breathing steadying a bit as the pain receded.

Pulling out the syringe and laying it on the bar beside his head, he finally rose with a much more stable stature as he gestured towards the Bar maid, "I think I'll be taking that drink now." he murmured before glancing to the side at the Sullustan, "You have my gratitude, not exactly the kind of generosity one would expect in a place like this."

Leaning against the bar, he stretched his neck a bit as he continued, "I'll owe you a favor at some point." he glanced to the door as that younger guy finished hiking up a bit of his cloak and took a leave, "That guy seemed pretty eager to get out of here, where exactly did he need to run off to in such a hurry?"

He muttered that last part out loud, having missed the beginning of their conversation.

Unbeknownst to him, at the very edge of Mos Eisley locals had their gazes drawn to another odd sight. A strange protocol droid wandering about asking folks where his master was, its stiff movements and unmarred exterior made numerous collectors of such wayward scrap eye him with keen interest. If the Protocol Droid noticed, he didn't act like it, continuing going from shifty individual to shifty individual as he passed them, asking the same question:

"Pardon me, I am currently in search of my Master." he would politely ask, caring not for whatever scenario the recipient of his question was in "Have you seen a strange Twi'lek pass through here recently? He could be hurt! I simply must find him soon."

 

[Adobe]

Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Adobe Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter SidTheSkid

Nirea slid the newly poured drink over to Twi,Lek, watching from a distance as he injected the fluid. In the seven years she had spent on the run, she had never felt as tense as she had in that moment. She was staring directly at a sith, someone who would strike her down in an instant if he even got the faintest idea who she was.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Nirea leant back on the stool, quietly humming to herself as the bar ever so slowly began to empty. A couple more hours and her shift would be over, the Gran that worked the night shift should be here sometime soon.

She cast a wave towards the pale looking boy, mouthing a 'see you soon' as he stepped out the door. Now that the crowd around her had died down, she finally pulled her hand away from her side, the soft thud of the stool legs reconnecting with the ground sounded as she pulled back forward.

"Its tattooine, what do you expect?" She said, in response to the Sullustan's question. Yes, it was true she had seen her fair share of questionable individuals living on the many ranches dotted around the desert, she failed to see the importance of the question. "Dont know what business you could possibly have with them, bunch of nut cases." She muttered under her breath, reminded of a not so fond memory.

Group: Business Class; Standalone
Location: Hoth, Rollan Villa
Tags: Chak

"Hold on." Mirians voice floated through the air, stopping the woman in her tracks. Picking herself up, she brushed down the back of her coat, attempting to make herself more presentable before she continued. "Sorry about that, I just run a strict no saber policy, it's nothing against you." Mirian sighed, she let her paranoid side get the better of her, impressions were of great importance, and as of right now, she wasn't making a good first one.

Taking a closer look at the woman, Mirian was taken aback. She took two steps forward toward the girl, intrigued by the intricate body pain she could now see adorning the various segments of exposed skin. In all honesty, she had forgot that what she was looking at was in fact a person, as if right now, Mirian defently wasn't interested in that. "You paint these yourself?" She asked, following the curving lines of a larger segment of paint up the woman's side. Now that she had a better look, the girl in front of her was amazing, all the small details and fine imprints fascinated Mirian, enough to take her mind off the unlocked crate behind her.

"Do you perhaps want a drink?" Mirian asked, abruptly snapping back to reality, she had guests, and should be treating them as such, not as expeditions. Looking out the window, it was pitch black, the snow and hail pelting the glass resonated a strange but soothing background noise to the villa. Promptly insisting that her new guest take a seat on the white sofa in the centre of the room, she hurried herself over the the small kitchenette in the corner, pouring out another mug of the light brown liquid, promptly placing it down on the small table in front of the woman. "Its warm tryu, grown on Naboo." Mirian answered in response to the questioning look she was given.