A Fistful of Credits

Die Shize · Feb 4, 2017

The Vagrant Victor
Nar Shaddaa

Purgatory

Theme

Nighttime on Nar Shaddaa. Didn’t much matter where on the moon you were when darkness fell—on the streets, beneath the streets, above the streets—everywhere was just as dangerous as anywhere. Beyond the thief, beyond the rapist, beyond the murderer, the Hutts ruled this world, the Hutts ruled this space, and the Hutts were the biggest crime family in the galaxy. They were born, bred and built for this kind of work, but they weren’t alone. He was born, bred and built to work for the likes of them, at least until the job was done. Afterward, it would be time to walk away with a smile, a big gun and a fistful of credits.

“Here you go, handsome.”

Vintar smiled, accepting the glass of Gralish liqueur with a wink of thanks and something else that sent the Falleen waitress walking away with an exaggerated sway to her hips. The thought was tempting, but there were plenty of others just like her around here, if not quite just like her, and Vintar reminded himself that he was here on business first and foremost. Maybe I’ll see you later, sweets. Just keep passing that tray around meanwhile. Lifting his glass to his lips, he finally looked away, letting the blue-green liquid slide down his throat as he sat back in his seat and watched the clubbers as they clubbed.

Purgatory was the place to be on a night out on Nar Shaddaa. Well, it was one of the places to be, anyway, amid a sea of dancing, drinking, drugging nightlife on a moon that catered to all of the above and then some. Of course, depending on what kind of trouble you were in or what kind of trouble you happened to get in, it was also one of the worst places to be. Here Hutts roamed, here Hutts roved, here Hutts ruled. They didn’t much rave, because they couldn’t much move, but they did much, much more merely by maintaining a measure of malice, malevolence and a million miles of meanness. Fortunately, Vintar was no mercenary who had found himself on the receiving end of that. Rather, he was here to receive his fortune. That probably meant killing someone at some point, which made him less than unordinary. How many of these folks around him were killers themselves, and how many were killers in dresses? Vintar wore no dress, but he hoped he was as inconspicuous in profession with his white leather jacket, black pants and maroon boots. Just a man as ordinary as any other, looking for a good time in Purgatory.

The club had six levels, the first four of which were connected by open staircases, the remaining and top two by inner stairwells given their walled interiors, though a balcony at each level oversaw the rest of the club. The second level contained the club’s main entrance, bars and public tables and booths, while the third level was different only in that most of its lounges required reservations. The first, fourth and fifth levels, meanwhile, were the primary dance floors. At the first, space was entirely open, allowing for great clusters of dancers. The fourth level was a mixture of dancing space and tables, while the fifth level was fitted with dancing poles, cages and smaller, elevated platforms. Last but not least was the sixth level, reserved for VIP access only. The sixth level entertained a similar setup as the others, sporting a dancing floor, bars and lounges, but most importantly, it held the dais of the club’s owner, one that could both oversee the outside club below and the breadth of the VIP level. It was a throne large enough, Vintar had heard, “for the fattest blob of slug’s ass to plop itself down.” Given that this establishment was owned by a Hutt, that statement did little to tickle his imagination.

Thinking on it, Vintar took another sip to take the taste away. He would probably need a thousand more to get the image out of his head, but unfortunately, he wasn’t here to drink his credits away so much as make them. On the third level, he had claimed a lounge at the corner of a platform; a VIP spot that had been reserved for him by management itself, though he had been sure to place it under the alias of “John Shepard”. Seemed like an ordinary enough name. “Go to Purgatory”, his contact had told him. “Arrangements will be made so that you can speak with the owner. He should be able to provide you with some intel to get you on the right track.” Vintar hadn’t thought much to or spoken much about that, save for the thought of being able to add a little pleasure to his business after all. The waitress that had just brought him his drink was since lost in the crowd before him, but there was plenty of other eye candy about in one of the most popular clubs in the area. He could see why. So much ass, so little time. Time that was, yet, on his side. He had received his invitation to the club, but he had yet to be invited to the sixth level. That was okay. He could spend some more minutes drinking, ogling and bopping his head back and forth to the beat.

LordOfShadows · Feb 8, 2017

Purgatory. It had been a long time since the Trianni had stepped foot in a place like this. Three of his close-net associates joined him. A shady group all of them, but everyone in the room was pretty shady to begin with. This was a place filled with petty thieves to high wanted criminals. Lucky enough, Mal'goth wasn't on a high bounty list as far as he knew. He had been thrown out of his old crew years ago. Most of the members of his old crew probably figured that he was dead or started his own crew and kept far away from Reus VIII. Well, neither had been true and he ran was something even greater.

Sitting at a table he had reserved days in advanced on the fourth floor. Mal'goth wouldn't go any higher than the fourth floor. The fifth floor had a cages and he had enough of cages when he was a slave. There was no point in punishing himself with memories of his past...at this moment anyway. All he had been through, gave him dark memories. If a force user focused on a past like his would send many to the dark side and/or into Sith ranks. Though, if things went differently, he would have probably ended up with the Sith and fighting, which he felt was, a pointless war. There was booze to drink, women to enjoy, and credits to spend.

Mal'goth sported a long coat which he kept open to reveal his furry torso. He wore a loose pair of pants that only came down to his calves. He didn't wear any boots and his race normally didn't wear a lot of clothes if any at all. Wearing clothes almost became natural for him since he joined his former pirate captain. Mal'goth would occasionally not wear clothes if he was trying to relax. A Nautolan waitress placed a round of drinks and shots on the table. Mal'goth smiled and picked up a shot and raised it in the air.

"To health and riches!" he toasted in his deep voice. His associates repeated him and threw back the black liquid. Mal'goth shook his head as the liquid warmed this throat. He chuckled and picked up a his beverage of choice which glimmered a deep crimson. He would drown himself in booze and have a great time doing it.

ZeroOrgan · Feb 8, 2017

If there was one thing Gabe loved about Nar-Shadda. (Given the only thing she could ever love about it) Was the uncountable amounts of credits to be made. whether it was assassinating some important target, or being bribed by your target to assassinate your original employer. It was no lie, there was an uncountable amount of credits to be made. Tonight was one of those nights for credits to be made, and a big one at that. She had a simple job, get to the sixth floor, assassinate the Hutt, and make sure everyone knows why. As simple as instructions went, Gabe knew it wouldn't be that simple. She didn't mind having a bounty put on her head, the Hutt's have enough bounty's on their heads afterall, it's just that with serious money you can hire some serious help. Gabe pushed open the door to the nightclub, Purgatory was it? She didn't care. All she knew is when she pushed open those doors, she'll be enjoying herself for a little bit before getting paid.

Gabe immediately smirked as she began working her way through the crowd, Ohohoho, This Atmosphere...Perfect. She couldn't lie, places like this deserve a certain kind of respect. Beautiful woman, exotic drinks, and most importantly, the Atmosphere of places like this can really get to you. Gabe took her time wading through the crowds of dancers and drinkers. She spotted a staircase admist the not-so-chaotic chaos and made her way towards it. She had to make her way up, as the first floor seemed mundane even with all the pretty woman. She walked for abit up the stairs and made her way to a floor she picked randomly. As she arrived to it and pushed open the doors, she was met with muscle. A burly Twi-lek looked down at her and pointed to a sign, VIP

This is something she would not have. She gave a smirk and spoke calmly but with hostility behind her tone. "You'll be letting me through, I'm important you know" She waved her hand, it was easy to convince such a dull minded muscle with the force to let her through, as an even bonus she made him check the list just as a visual Que.

Die Shize · Feb 8, 2017

Recurring Theme

Falleen. Zeltron. Twi’lek. That one Togruta. Agh! But which one? Vintar might have grabbed his crotch if one of the broads would have caught it and accepted it for the gesture that it would have been. Instead, he settled for resting a boot over a knee and letting his foot join in the dance that his head had since begun. The herd would herd toward the baddest mother kriffer in the galaxy soon enough, whether by his seductive gaze or his gazing seduction. No female could resist Vintar for too long, similar to the stupidity of his trying to resist the toxicity of his liqueur. It burned, and it burned well.

“So I told the guy . . . ” came the call of one girly little man too busy giggling to tell his dumb joke to his girlfriends gathered nearby, all four of which happened to have bodies in the form of men, like him, though none appeared very manly. Mind Vintar, he never had much patience for pansies, and even the non-sissies could be sissies, whatever that might have meant. Sipping from his glass, he only looked away since the pansies were blocking his view of the bar and the woe-is-my-short-skirt Zeltron beauty bending over it. As fate would have it, the interruption allowed his mind to drift back onto the task at hand.

Yes, but what kriffing task? The thought prompted Vintar to glance up at the sixth floor and its pink splendor. He wondered what other beauties would be in that VIP pad and what pink splendor waited between their legs. The more he thought on it, the more impatient he was beginning to feel. Pleasure was good, and when pleasure went with business then business was good, but the credit could just as much outweigh the climax. Purgatory. It was perfect. It was prime. It was pleasurable. But it was payment. For that, Vintar had to get to level six, and if he wasn’t going to get an invitation anytime soon (indeed, if the Hutt was going to make him sweat some more, probably watching him even now), then what was the point in not getting flargfaced? As timely as ever, a pair of Humans with glittering faces and hips that wouldn’t quit smiled his way, walked his way and made his day. Yeah, that’s it. I’m calling it. He called that one with a finishing move on his drink and poured himself another.

“You look lonely, baby.” The taller one spoke with a closed-lipped chuckle. One was a blonde, the other a brunette with hair done up in a triangle of three spiraling buns that made Vintar want to plunge his fists through. He returned their smile and beckoned them over with two fingers.

“Past tense, now, sweetheart. I ain’t lonely anymore.”

With that, he found himself flanked, sandwiched in and his sides closed. Sixth level. Fat Hutt. Info-this and intel-that. The job could wait. The gentle exchange of his orgasmically deep voice with the soft tone of a woman and her skin beneath his fingers, meanwhile, simply could not.

Sangga · Feb 9, 2017

Taanab had been... interesting. The Cities were fine, but hiding the two ships in the jungle... what in the name of Her Majesty had he been thinking! Cover yes, but the screeching and the howling... those creatures. They had all need a solid dose of civilization, and as much as he wanted to steer very clear from here, thanks to his debt. Nar Shaada was not only brimming with 'civilization', but some of the choices smuggling jobs fell out of it from time to time.

The large Hapan male stepped off the street and into this neon lit hole of dankness and alcohol. The poor light quality meant that he had to retrieve that which he didn't want from his pocket. He opened them and they pinched his nose, the dark lenses hiding his striking blue, eyes and the lenses turned on bathing his vision in a dull green wash. He felt bloody ridiculous every time he put them on. He headed toward the bar, but not the first one he went up a few flights, if he was going to look ridiculous, he'd be the stupid looking fella with a drink in his hand and you never went straight to the first bar... not if you could help it. As he ascended the stairs, the steps revealed his light repeater from under the long duster. Nobody on this moon walked into a bar unarmed.

From his higher vantage point, under the brim of his hat he looked to the door as his eyes caught his crew. A slow lift of his chin, and a crossing os his arms was enough to tell them to be circuitous and guarded, they'd had enough time on the jump to talk it over; especially after Pantolomin. They'd scatter into the crowd and then meet up when the crowd had been checked over. The Zeltron barmaid tried to conceal a smile when she saw him, the ensemble was great. His hat, coat and leather waistcoat looked fine but those ridiculous spectacles. "Never play Pazaak, glass of grain-water." She looked caught, and a little more impressed, if not intrigued. The measure was heavy and she hung around a little too long as the next patron called her over for a third time. "Zeltrons..." he drained the glass of it's brown contents. "... Women." He took stock of the level, the fruit with the guards and then the Buckethead with the blonde and brunette were interesting. He wondered what Kyllan was thinking, Hart would guess something along the guy lacking style. The Zeltron came back with the bottle, he turned to then not she looked passed him, someone was behind him, someone shorter. He turned around.

@Pippa Rhute @StarWriter @Frannykins87

Frannykins87 · Feb 9, 2017

Alisha honestly wondered how they ended up on Nar Shaddaa, given the Captain's debt to a Hutt.. She knows he mostly knows what he's doing, but she still wondered. Still, she was glad to be there. Maybe it was time for them to have a little bit of relaxation, after everything on Tanaab. She looks over to Kyllan next to her, smiling. His mere presence was enough to make her feel a lot safer. But she knows Nar Shadaa was never safe, so she is still alert.

This day she decided to wear her hair in a pony tail, in a clumsy attempt to make her face stand out less...Somehow. She was hoping not to get attention this time... Alisha looks around the place. Despite the obvious crime presence that would come with being on the planet, this club was abuzz and the music was beginning to get to her, as she walks towards the bar with a certain sway to her movement. She glanced over to Kyllan, half hoping he'd noticed that. She smirks, then looks around some more. The waitresses were busy serving the patrons, most of them drunk by now. She noticed several Mandalorians scattered throughout this spacious level. Not surprising, but she was glad Kyllan was with her nonetheless. There were a lot of people of difference species, genders and mostly well armed. She was happy to have had some training from the Mandalorian, her own blaster at her side. This was definitely a place

"Let's get something to drink.. OH! Look, the captain is there!"

She tugs at Kyllan's wrist, then briskly walks over to the bar. Despite her fears, she wasn't getting any more attention than a few glances. She attributed that to Kyllan's presence. A nice change, at that. When they reached the bar, the Captain turned around. He seemed to have been muttering something but Alisha didn't hear it. She only knows that he tended to brood a lot..Not that she'd ever say that to him.. yet..

"Captain! Hello! Again..." She gives him a friendly smile and sits next to him, gesturing for Kyllan to do the same. She then gives a nod to the Zeltron barmaid that served Quint a few moments ago and ordered her drink. She wasn't particularly impressed by her choice, but who was she to judge if she got paid for it.

ZeroOrgan · Feb 10, 2017

Gabe had thought she would find something interesting on the third floor. She was wrong, instead of interest she got men (and woman) trying to get up in her business and flirt. Though she did play along for a second or two, it was quick to realize it was just for her credits and that it would be an avid waste of her time regardless of booty . She stood and left VIP area, and headed straight for the top. That's where the Hutt has to be right? The top? . Gabe made her way up the stairs impatiently, each step pumping adrenaline. She knew the Hutt wouldn't be a challenge, but maybe his friends would be and that got Gabe excited. She passed the fifth floor, and arrived at the door to the sixth floor VIP Area where two guards, openly holding blasters pointed them at her. "Got a pass kid?" Said the left guard raising his blaster pistol slightly.

Gabe quickly threw out her hands and concentrated for what short few seconds she needed. Her fingers tensed with energy, soon after lighting spewed from them into the hands of her enemies. The two guards screamed in pain as they dropped their blasters , the rest was wasy. Gabe drew her green saber and with one agile swing, got two birds with one stone.

Sadly this Hutt was rather rich. He had installed a security system to his guards to where if one died, he would go off the radar and all the other guards would have an alarm ringing in their head to which no one else could hear (Given if they are not wearing said specific headphones). Telling them when and where. A clever idea in all honesty. Regardless the club would be met with guards flooding to the sixth floor, all armed to the teeth with armor and rifles. Pushing any out of the way...

Pippa · Feb 10, 2017

It took Pippa a while to get into Purgatory. First she'd had to prove she wasn't some kind of assassin droid and then she'd been asked to leave her diving walker in the parking lot by the side of the club, something about a no vehicular policy inside the club. She did her best to convey her need for the 2.5m pressurised, water-tight compartment but the bouncer had assured her the only drowning she'd be doing in the club was "in pussy and booze if ya got the creds...". Unaware of the full connotations of this she made her way inside the club grabbing her scatter blaster and her shoulder bag from the walker. She looked around on the 1st floor and couldn't see Quint or the rest of her crew. She popped open her Holocom and called him: "Sorry Captain Quint Hart, it took me a while to enter the premises and I seem to have lost you all. I will 'spilt up' as we discussed earlier and look for the friend of yours you said had a job for us, one worth being this close to Norbaal's influence. Could you describe them to me so that I know what I am looking for otherwise I will do my best to blend into this heaving crowd of inebriated, pheromone covered giants." She waited for Quint to respond and then preceded to scour the bar as best she could. After listening to the captain she carried on with the plan.

The only real benefit she'd found to being barely two feet tall was that it was very difficult to pick-pocket her. In a sea of people who's thighs were at her eye level her biggest concern would be not getting stepped on. She did her best to look for their contact but decided she'd need to find higher ground. She pushed squeezed and waddled her way through the 1st floor area until she found her way to the bar. Clambering up one of the stools she stood atop it to try and spot them, but to no avail. Deciding to stay here for now in case they came in she instead tried to get the barmaid's attention. It took a few minutes but they finally came round to her. The Chiss Barmaid looked over the tiny furry being before her, big bat-like ears, big jet black eyes, four nostrils and a gun almost as big as it was, she couldn't help but grin.

"What'll it be?" she asked, trying to suppress a giggle.
"I would like a Meilooran smoothie, also I've noticed that this club seems to have several strata. Are there any requirements to ascending higher in the building?"
The barmaid chuckled, "You talk like a can short-stuff, sure I can't get you something stronger, might loosen up that tone of yours?"
Pippa blinked at the barmaid, not fully grasping the joke. "Is it required that I imbibe alcoholic beverages to get to the higher levels or is there something wrong with the pitch of my voice?"
The barmaid smiled bemused at the seeming naivete of the small patron in front of her. Shaking her head a little she thought about how easy a mark this furry little thing must be. She handed it the drink and overcharged. "So why are you so interested in the V.I.P sections of the bar?"
Pippa paid happily for the drink. "There is someone I and my crew are supposed to meet but they are not on this floor. I thought that they might be higher up in the club."
Another patron of the bar, drunk and impatient yelled down the bar at the barmaid."HEY, Fripper, AH'm thirsty over here!"
"And I'll get you you in a minute sir, I'm still serving this customer." the barmaid called back, she turned and swore gently under her breath. "Haja, sorry, this guy's a regular, he isn't always this drunk by now, I'll be right b-" She was interrupted by the drunken patron pushing his way along the bar towards them, clumsily shoving other customers aside. The barmaid scanned the room for security, she felt like it was starting to be one of those nights but she couldn't see any. Which was odd, either someone else had started a fight upstairs or something was seriously up, there should have been at least two guys on just in the main floor area let alone the private rooms booths and VIP area's upstairs. She didn't finish that though as the drunken man slammed a fist down on the counter in front of her.

Pippa could smell the alcohol on the man's breath. Happy to see that he appeared human, she felt like attempting a scientific experiment. Over the last few weeks she had gained a lot of data on human biology and was eager to put it into practice. Sniffing carefully she gauged the ethanol concentration in his breath and calculated it's parts to water, glucose, cell tissue and other trace substances. She estimated based on this calculation that the man's blood alcohol content was probably around 0.35%. By her reckoning this man was dangerously drunk already.
"Look see it's already got a drink" He burbled loudly at Pippa, gesturing wildly with the fist he'd just hit the bar with, he then turned to the barmaid "So you can serve me, like you's frippin sposed to." the barmaid stood back from the bar top worried at the lack of security nearby.
"Excuse me" Pippa squeaked "I was in the process of being informed about the strata hierarchy in this establishment, my time as a consumer has not yet concluded."
The man turned to Pippa, still a head taller than her though she was standing on a stool, and blinked vacantly at the tiny being for a moment before a welling of anger spurred him on. "What tha hell are ya talkin about? If yer tryin to get between me and my drinks ya freak..." The man paused confused at the creature he was looking at, the confusion only fuelled his anger and he grabbed Pippa by her bag strap. "I mean wat even the flarg are ya ya stumpy hairball-" Pippa injected the man in the wrist with a small cylinder she had pulled from her bag. The device pumped a powerful emetic into the man's system that had been calibrated for human tolerance levels...but not yet tested. "Hay what's tha big idea I'll end ya ya drukkin furry flar-" the man's face went from red to white in and instant and he froze up as the drug took a hold of his digestive track.
"By my estimation you have until you can finish counting slowly down from ten before you projectile vomit your stomach contents. I would recommend using that time to find a place to do so." The man spun unsteadily and then barged his way back across the crowded floor in a frantic search for the facilities.

Pippa turned back to the barmaid who looked rather impressed. "Usually I would be against forcing a customer to throw up but hell if I couldn't use a magic gizmo like that." the barmaid said, relieved to see the man leave.
"You may have this one if you like, it should be good for two more injections and I can make myself another. I am just glad that it performed to my expectations." She grinned toothily at the barmaid. The barmaid found her self feeling bad for overcharging this surprisingly genuine little creature. She leaned in close and whispered to Pippa. "Tell you what, I'll take my break in 10 minutes. You stay here and I'll come get you, then you and me and that widget of yours can discuss how I might be able to get you up to VIP." She winked and made her way back to other waiting customers. Pippa waited patiently and enjoyed her smoothie. It was delicious.

Die Shize · Feb 11, 2017

OOC:

Sorry for the wait.
Also, the below character is not really a PC character. I’m just controlling this NPC character in place of the person I had hoped would be joining with an actual PC, but hasn’t yet. I’m also controlling this NPC for plot purposes.
Finally, a friendly reminder of the club’s layout, based on the provided image of the club—

First floor: Solely a dance floor and one of two primary dance floors. Totally open space. The only way to get to the first floor is from the second.
Second floor: Main entrance floor with booths and tables, either public or reserved, and room enough to dance.
Third floor: Bars and tables and booths (public/reserved), also plenty of space to dance despite (this floor can be seen on the YouTube video in my first post).
Fourth floor: First floor of the walled-in area of the club, with a heavier focus on bars, tables and booths and a squared floor in the center for dancing.
Fifth floor: Solely a dance floor and one of two primary dance floors. This floor is equipped with dancing poles, cages and elevated platforms similar to what you can see in the YouTube video.
Sixth floor: VIP access only. Similar features as former floors, with bars, tables and booths, predominantly lounges, and also a stage capable of hosting live performance. Also the floor that hosts the club’s owner with a dais that can oversee the VIP floor and the rest of the club below.

The Big Beauty
Theme

Kiba stared out the window. Levels below her, patrons drank and danced, mingled and frolicked, kissed and kicked and, most importantly, placed credit after credit for her to lick and tuck into her pocket. Not quite so literally, of course, considering that Kiba had no pockets on her naked form. That was quite okay. She needed none. She was above this pathetic lot wasting their lives away at a level far lower than her own. They danced, they drank, they slipped one another drugs whose profit in turn went into her pocket (or else they were maimed) but they were nothing but bodies with price figures in place of heads. She smiled at them, knowing she knew what they might never know. They were dumb, stupid scum. They didn’t know it, but if they did, they would have been hoping that Kiba the Hutt would never remind them of their own stupidity. They would regret it immediately after learning it.

“Close the shutter.” Her sweet, serene, scrumptious voice called out, heard in an instant amid the three Pa’lowicks’ own who sang on stage before their band at the other end of the room from the Hutt’s dais. “Right away, Mistress Kiba,” called her Bothan henchman, Tosk. An instant later, the metal, blaster-proof shutter dropped down behind the window from within the room, sealing the blaster-proof glass off and blocking the view of the club’s owner from all except those upon her VIP floor.

“Vench my skug! Turn me around, then, you fierfekking ho-tah with poodoo for brains! I don’t want to stare at metal all day!”

“Right away, Mistress Kiba”, called the same idiot henchman as he manipulated a remote control and turned his mistress’ throne around so that she could watch the beautiful performers over the heads of the ugly morons dancing on her floor. Also over their heads were scattered cages dangling from the ceiling; Twi’leks of this pretty color or that one moving their lithe frames, helping the credflow for their dear mistress. Kiba licked her lips as she watched them. Dance well, sweetlings, and make your mama some money. Then she frowned. Or it’s back to the basement with you. Twi’leks, she had learned, had their uses, but they weren’t many. They weren’t anywhere near as many as a Hutt’s, particularly as Kiba’s. She might not have been painted red or blue or pink at birth, but she was painted green, and green is what her idiot henchman's experience level felt right now for the way he just stood there. Kiba wasn’t going to sit for that. She slapped a hand out across his furry head.

“Well!? Are my lips going to paint themselves, you fierfekking fierfekked stoopa of a schoon!?” Kiba relaxed herself, training her gaze ahead. Her eyes were blue and beautiful, but her lips needed some refreshment. “Red.” She called. Red is a nice color, mm. “No! Pink. No!” She called, then she gave the Bothan another backhand across his big-eared skull. “Ho-tah kung! Suggest something useful for once! Hmm…” As Kiba stroked her mighty chin, fingers smooth as they delicately pushed into flesh, she stared long and hard at the Pa’lowick. “Purple! Get the purple lipstick, Tosk, unless you want another smack!”

The useless Bothan began delicately applying the purple lipstick to Kiba’s luscious lips, and all the while, she kept her gaze on the singers. Tosk had better hope he matched the makeup exactly, which, to be fair, was probably why he was going so slowly. If he didn’t, he would regret it. I’ll skin his hide, nail it to the wall and pay a hundred Trandoshans to piss on it. The thought made her chuckle. An instant after, she realized there was lipstick smeared on her chin. Useless fierfekking Bothan! She gave the moron’s skull the bottom of her fist. “Clean it up, ho-tah! And get it right this time or else I’ll fierfekking flay you and nail your fierfekking hide to the FIERFEKKING WALL!!!!”

A sudden burst of electricity crackled out across the room. Immediately, Kiba’s gaze wandered throughout the crowd, wondering who had discharged a gun and who would therefore be flayed for it. As some of the fools dispersed by the source of the disturbance, she saw the culprit. It was no gun the woman wielded. It was a lightsaber. Jedi. JEDII. And that had been lightning coming from her hands. She had also just taken out some of her guards. Ho-tah! HO-TAH! They were the useless of the useless. As screams and shouts roared out, calls of “Jedi!” and “Assassin!” rang out with them. Rapid footfalls met the vibrant hum of the Jedi’s lightsaber but, all the while, the stage performers never abandoned their song. They knew better than to do that. Kiba had made sure of it.

“Well!?” Kiba spoke out to Tosk beside her who just blinked back. That had earned him a whack. “Go get the Jedi sleemo, you useless shag! You puddle of poodoo! You brainless Bothan!” He had already been running along when her last insult struck. With him went four out of eight of Kiba’s personal guards: Trandoshan warriors, hunters and straight up killers who would put meaning behind the word “flay” as they moved in toward the Jedi, brandishing weapons of their own—fully loaded carbines with muzzles trained on their target. However, no trigger was pulled yet.

“You!” called Tosk, pointing a finger and standing before the stationary Trandoshans. The dancing crowd had since spread out in halves on either side of the room, and even the Twi’lek slags had stopped dancing as they clutched the bars of their cages in fear. The exceptions were the rest of the security force that had been hugging walls or mingling on the dance floor since then. They moved to surround the attacker. Kiba just licked her lips and watched as Tosk went on. “In ten seconds, security will come flooding through those doors behind you. The question is: Where will you be?”He nodded at that same entrance, one that marked her only safe exit. "You can decide right now how you want to leave this room, Jedi scum. Alive or dead."

That’s right, Tosk. Good one, good one. I’ll have no one bleeding on my expensive floor tonight. They were giving the Jedi scum a chance to leave. What happened afterward was up to her, and Tosk was at least useful enough to make that known.

The Vagrant Victor
Recurring Theme

“You wanna touch my blaster?”

It was hardly surprising. Every female from Nar Shaddaa to Dantooine wanted to touch Vintar’s blaster and, if they didn’t, they just didn’t know that they did. Who was Vintar to deny these two lovelies?

“Well…” He teased, running a lone finger over the handle of the pistol beneath his right hip. That was the same side the blonde was sitting at. How fanciful. He slid his hand further, running it up her thigh. “I guess I can let you touch it, but don’t tug it. Not too hard. You might set it off.” He leaned in to kiss her lips, or maybe she did, but either way they got kissed.

“Can I pull the trigger?” She barely whispered. Vintar grinned, or maybe he just put on a bigger smile. “Well, you can do that, sweetheart, but be warned...” She had leaned in to kiss him again, but he held up a finger between their faces. “It’ll explode.” He lowered the finger, he leaned in, and their lips seemed entangled for moments on end. That was when he heard a soft chuckle behind him.

“No fair, Driz. I wanna turn too.”

Oh, so demanding. What’s a Mando to do? Vintar let his shoulder be pulled by the brunette beside him and, as any hard-working citizen would do, and gave her a snog besides.

“And so I told the guy . . . ” He rolled his eyes as he heard the unfortunately not so distant giggle. He had completely forgotten about that bozo. Oh, for kriffsake. Not this drukhead again. As Vintar continued to kiss his bird, he was excruciatingly aware of how metallic her lips began to taste, all on account of the moron near his private table.

“I told him…I told him... I said ‘Hey, guy, I may be a doctor, but do you know why I’d make the best Jedi?’ “A pause ensued. Vintar smiled as saliva was exchanged. Sweet, Human, female saliva. Mm-mm-mmmm. Also the silence that went with it. “ ‘Because a Jedi must have patience!’ ” And with that, a barrage of laughter as the Di’kut and his Di’kutla girlfriends giggled like schoolgirls did after sharing their first orgasm. Vintar checked his anger. He was definitely angry after checking it. Unfortunately, that meant withdrawing his lips.

“Ugh. Hold that thought.” Naturally, the babe’s smile, that knowing smile of kick-his-ass, only fueled Vintar’s fire as he turned his head to face the retards. “Hey, drukhead. You mind shutting your mouth or else leading your queer patrol to finger each other some other place while I make out with my two new friends over here?” Or else have your face bashed in? That thought probably didn’t need to be voiced aloud, as he was sure it was able to be read within the violence of his visage.

For a moment, the fools shut up and just stood staring. Whoever broke eye contact, Vintar knew it wouldn’t be him. Whatever happened next, his right hand was one arm’s crossing away from being at the handle of his pistol, but he’d only need his left to chuck his bottle of Gralish liqueur at the first Di’kut who might seek to fight him. The first Di’kut to regret it.

StarWriter · Feb 13, 2017

Nar Shaddaa. Kyllan hadn't expected them to come here of all places. Hell, he hadn't expected to come here on his own for well as long as he could help it. After all, he did have more than a few bounties on his head from various Hutt clans. A fact made more poignant now that they were on the moon home to the sleazy, disgusting and otherwise immoral slugs with whom Captain Hart had compounded his debt to just to bail Kyllan out of a tight spot. Something he was honor bound to help correct which is why they were here.

Even though it might be more prudent for him to disguise himself as just another patron, given the danger ever present in where they were he had deigned to remain in his signature armor. Ever the Buckethead as the old codger Quint was so fond of referring to him as. On the upside, being here meant he was focused like a precision instrument, which kept him from thinking back to Tanaab. Walking alongside Alisha, he kept his head on a swivel as it were alert for any threats that might be directed their way. That lecherous demeanor of his was nowhere to be found, even though this was the sort of place Kyllan used to love visiting. He'd had countless wild nights in places like this, so much eye candy a man could drown and never want for more.

The fact that his gaze hardly lingered on any of the inane number of beauties, save for when his gaze drifted to Alisha, said something. That smile though. That radiant, exuberant smile she always had was what made his gaze linger. Of course then there was that certain sway of her hips that didn't go unnoticed. Damn if it was going to be hard to keep focused with her walking like that. Regardless, there was little more prominent in his mind than keeping her safe. As well as the rest of their little band of wayward smugglers. Which is why Kyllan called upon every iota of his Mandolorian upbringing and training to keep his posture and visage as imposing as possible. This was also one of the few times he carried his P-30 rifle, secured in a harness on his back. Those twin heavy blasters were ever present on his hips in their holsters, he had his light blaster hidden in his armor and carried more than a few grenades of varying types. That all along with his armor and it's weaponry he was as ready as he ever was in case things went sideways. And this was Nar Shadda, it always did.

"Let's get something to drink.. OH! Look, the captain is there!"

"Right." Feeling the tug on his arm he'd follow close behind the beautiful mechanic and then take a seat beside her once she'd joined Quint at the bar. During his survey of the level, he'd made note of the man enjoying the company of the blonde and brunette. Though he wasn't in any sort of armor, merely a white leather jacket, black pants and maroon boots Kyllan marked him for someone who could handle themselves when poodoo hit the proverbial fan. He watched as the man charmed the two women flanking him and shook his head. Oh, the guy was good but there was no finesse. Kyllan enjoyed innuendo as much as the next guy but the way he made the ladies swoon was by making them realize just how much they need him in their life, even for a moment. Make a woman feel like she's the only woman in a room and she's yours. Something his father had told him. Of course he also had a further pearl of wisdom to go along with that. When you found a woman whom you did that without trying, stop chasing skirts and do everything you can to make her yours.

Kyllan glanced at Alisha and was grateful for the helmet that concealed his face, and the affectionate expression that was plastered all over it. Of course, his gaze didn't linger overlong as he had to keep watch. And Kyllan was getting a somewhat uneasy feeling. Despite never having set a foot in the place, Purgatory, before tonight he knew something was wrong. It had been more than a few minutes since he'd seen the last bouncer or guard. That was never a good sign.

"I've got a bad feeling about this. None of the guards are anywhere to be seen." Kyllan would voice his concern and appraisal to the other two as Pippa made her announcement to Quint. On top of that he heard the hard, venomous threat issued to the 'pansies' by the male trying to enjoy the two women beside him. Instinctively his fingers lightly rested on the hilts of his heavy blasters, tapping softly.

ZeroOrgan · Feb 13, 2017

Gabe didn't waste any time. She stuck out her hands in both directions and tensed her fingers ,her mind racing with adrenaline and the broadest grin formed across her face. This is it Gabe, death , or a million credits!. The figures starting to circle around her started to blur and the words they spat formed no words in her head. They were incoherent ramblings to her. Her focus increased as the energy in her began to swell, the excitement of the force running to her arms with deadly speed, She was ready to die, though she was ready to make this place her pain slave. She would oppose her will, and they would bow, simple.

Gabe unleashed a battle cry when she unleashed force lightning so mighty it shook the floor, idle shot glasses and drinks started to fall while the dancers on either side of the floor began to run in fear. The force lighting penetrated the guard's armor as they released screams of anguish. Her blue force lightning splitting and crackling as she swung her arms around to hit all the guards. The lightning in the dank place shook, and many dancers found themselves flooding out the bottom floor screaming "Assassin! Jedi! Help! " Or most of them "Out of my way! Move it!". Some guards were smart and tried to shoot her, though as they raised their blasters Gabe returned fire with much more force.

It only took moments to "Impose her will". Within a minute the place had become the incarnation of chaos. And as she breathed heavy with rage she moved forward over the dead bodies of the guards, her gait was shaky, but her presence undeniable. The shaking Hutt appeared to be begging for mercy, though Gabe couldn't focus enough to make sense of her words.. She raised her saber and released another battle cry. Within one minute she had gained her face on a wanted poster that would be posted across the galaxy...
Bring it...

Sangga · Feb 14, 2017

"Captain! Hello! Again..." He turned around and there was Alisha with Kyllan in tow. At least he wouldn't have to worry about these two. Kyllan looked like a hair trigger was not sensitive enough. His head made small darting turns as the Mandolorian took in the room.

"I've got a bad feeling about this. None of the guards are anywhere to be seen." There was going to be a remark on how this was Nar Shadda and that a bad feeling was a local necessity. But he was, even with the local wildlife in true form; a glance went towards the Mandolorian with the blond and brunette, no doubt Kyllan had noted them. Hart shook his head and joined Alisha in a drink of whatever the Zeltron was serving them. He brought the glass up to his lips when he saw something in the reflection from behind the bar. People were running downstairs, people were barging and some began to shout out. He drained the glass and put his hand into his right duster pocket. As he turned around he checked his pince-nez were on firmly.

"Kid, ensure your blasters out or at least your hand is resting on it. We've got to find Pipa and get out of here, my contact can wait. Bucket head, there's some-" He was cut off as his left wrist began to vibrate, his eyes rolled behind the green lenses and he lifted his arm up to let the holo-communicator to activate. The swollen form of a Jablogian began grunting and wiping the drool from his mouth.

"Ahhh, Hart. Always nice to hear that you are around. Hard workers are so hard to comeby." As if this saliva dripping toad needed an introduction to those in the know of Nar Shadda. This was Zosma, the uttering under his breath, the beady eyes in his no-neck head. The Jablogian "This place is getting a little too excitable, not that it wasn't boring, and my droid bodyguards keep stating the declining probability of getting me out alive. Where are you? Why aren't you here? I have a big job and you answered my call! Maybe I should-"

"Wait only a few more minutes, asking me to come here instead of sending me the job details was-"

"A SAFETY PRECAUTION! One of a kind that you should make on this job. Since I want my shipment intact." Hart looked to his two partners, a brilliant anger in his eyes, behind the lenses. He signaled them to follow, as he made his way into the crowd, fighting against the current of those last few people that were fleeing.

"I see you..." the tubby toad wasn't hard to miss. "... be with you expeditiously, tell your droids to stand down." He turned to his shipmates after hanging up, as he did there was a glimpse of his hand still on his light repeater. Hart was clearly on edge, something was up with the crowd and this rendezvous. "The 'Prince of the Stardocks' awaits. Don't give the droids any reason to kill us, Buckethead, stop looking around. I need you here and now and, Kid... don't... just don't. If he likes you, it'll never be something he can let go. Don't offer him your hand, don't talk just... don't." He turned and left the confines of the crowd and headed to the seating under the stairs. The Jablogian saw him and became excitable, waving his hands to the HK-47s in an arc around him.

"Yeees, Captain Quint Hart, of the rust bucket Yoania, and a fully armoured Mandolorian... and who..." the four foot tall mound of fat and folds of red skin jumped down from the raised couch. "... is that. She would fit into my collection nicely."

Alisha D. · Feb 14, 2017

"I've got a bad feeling about this. None of the guards are anywhere to be seen."

Alisha looked around and sipped her glass. She then realised that was true, and got suddenly nervous. It was true they were on Nar Shadaa, and normally guards would be present in numbers. Their absence could not have been a good sign. She put down her glass, and moments before the captain suggested it, she put her right hand down to where her blaster is. And just in time too.

"Ahhh, Hart. Always nice to hear that you are around. Hard workers are so hard to comeby."

Alisha had never seen that species before, but thought better than to let her curiosity run amok. She glanced quickly at Kyllan. She was going to complain how he always seemed to be in armour and ready for a shoot off, but at this moment she was quite glad he was. She remained silent throughout the Captain's exchange with this fat alien, noting that most people were now leaving the area in a panic state. She decides to leave her glass half empty at the table.. Hopefully there will be more time to relax another time.

"Crap...what is happening.." She thought to herself. But her focus returned to her group as they were lead elsewhere. Dancers and patrons both were fleeing the area, pushing around to get through, but Alisha was agile enough to dodge most, once more aided by her stature.

"The 'Prince of the Stardocks' awaits. Don't give the droids any reason to kill us, Buckethead, stop looking around. I need you here and now and, Kid... don't... just don't. If he likes you, it'll never be something he can let go. Don't offer him your hand, don't talk just... don't."

Alisha nodded gravely. She knew where this was going...She hated the way the contact looked at her, but it wasn't anything new. It was, after all, Nar Shadda..where they do not treat people like people. She also was never that naive as to expect to get jobs from honest people..Especially on this planet. That notion was laughable at best. Still, when they reached the stairs, the alien's comment made her swallow hard. It was humiliating to say the least, but she did her best to follow her captain's suggestion, and remained very quiet. She also tried using the trick he taught her to attempt as neutral a face as possible. However, that comment might have set Kyllan off, so she very barely touched his wrist with hers, and glanced at him briefly, to try and tell him to refrain himself. She also suddenly thought of Pippa, wondering where she was, and if she was safe. It did look to her, it might have been safer to be away at this point, but no turning back, and remained silent still.

Pippa · Feb 21, 2017

The Chiss Barmaid left Pippa to her drink and ducked off into the employee area of the club. She found that even the desk guards and the men usually in the security room seemed to be missing. She took this opportunity to pop her head in and look at the monitors arrayed along the wall. She scanned furiously over the screens. She could see guards rushing panicked up the emergency stairs to the sixth level and particularly to Kiba's observation deck. She could see fried bodies outside the sixth floor doors and watched with shock as what seemed to be a young woman unleashing waves of crackling lightning throughout the room, frying guard and bystander alike. The lightning must have hit the power grid in the building because the lights and monitors started to flicker and it felt like a war was going on above, she could hear blaster fire even from here. The barmaid weighed her options and as patrons began to scream and flee she came to a decision.

Pippa sat contentedly at booth she'd found on the second floor and patiently waited for the barmaid to return. She began to worry when she felt her feet start to itch and when the lights started to flicker. Many patrons started to yell and shout about something. There was a rush and panic for the door. Pippa tucked herself back into the booth to avoid the stampede. Presently terrified at the prospect of being stampeded. She was surprised when a figure pushed past the rush and sat down heavily across from her. It took a second for Pippa to recognise him, now that he was wearing a helmet and body armour but, from the smell of bile and alcohol, Pippa worked out that this man was the drunkard from before. "Hey there ya grakkin furball" he said raspily through the helmet's speaker. "Think ya pretty damn funny doncha? Makin a fool a me?" He punctuated the end of his question with a large knife that he slammed point first into the table between them allowing it to judder menacingly. "Well youse gonna regret doin that." He yanked the knife back out of the wooden top and tensed to flip the table out of the way. So focused was he on his vengeance that he didn't notice the barmaid come from behind him and jab him with the emetic injector Pippa had given her. The second dose in as many minutes had his nausea explode almost instantly all over the inside of his helmet. The barmaid grabbed Pippa by the arm and the two of them fled through the wave of people leaving the drunkard howling in pain and confusion between violent wretches.

"You really saved me" Pippa squeaked up to the barmaid as they made their way to the employee area. "I really have no skill in a fight, especially in the confusion and imposing nature of the melee." The barmaid looked at Pippa. She hadn't taken it for a fighter, but then eyed the large blaster it carried. "Why not blast him? I mean frak he came at you with a knife." "Oh if I had had the time to draw and fire I would have attempted to. One of my crew mates Kyllan has been teaching me to shoot and defend myself out side of a vehicle. I know he tries hard not to show it, but I think he is just a little disappointed at how slowly I am picking up his training. Though that is perhaps because unlike Alisha I taught myself to fire a gun with a targeting grid, she has not picked up any bad habits to be disruptive to training or-" The barmaid interrupted Pippa's life story "Ok, look, there are some things we need to do right now. We don't have time for this just yet. What is your name?" "My name is Pippa Rhute, you may call me Pippa, what is it you need to do? I would be happy to help, I find myself in your gratitude." "Right, Pippa, Okay." The barmaid paused for a moment and tried to gauge how much she could convince this thing of and how much she could make off with with the security 'occupied'. "You are good with tech right? You built this?" She waved the injector, Pippa nodded excitedly "So yeah, I might need your 'techspertise'. Call me Dliserfia by the way." Pippa happily followed Dliserfia into the unprotected security room.

They made their way down through the security room into the club's vault. Stood before them was a barred cage and a large sentinel droid, beyond which lay piles of credit boxes and both packages and barrels of narcotic concoctions. "So Pippa, there's a lot of scary stuff going on upstairs and I really want to get to safety but I've left some stuff in this storage area that I need to take with me. The problem is that I've lost my key-card in all of the panic and I need you to get me in, can you do that?" Pippa blinked up as Dliserfia, taking everything she said as unconditional truth, before surveying the room. After a quick scan she grinned toothily at her "Yes I should be able to." She approached the Sentry droid, without fear. As she pottered up to the hulking shape it rose on it's pistons and began to hum a powering up sequence. However before the droid could act Pippa struck up a conversation with it in droid speak. The two of them beeped and whirred between each-other rapidly. As the conversation progressed the droid returned to stand by, and Pippa occasionally looked back at Dliserfia suspiciously. Dliserfia began to worry, had she lied too aggressively? She hadn't heard droid speak this fast before, she couldn't really make out individual phrases or words, it was all just high squeaks and deep robotic grunts.

After about a minute Pippa turned back to Dliserfia. "I am sorry Dliserfia, I am unable to help you steal these things." Dliserfia cursed internally and tried to think about what she could do, she could probably take Pippa, but the droid would still be an issue, as she puzzled through this conundrum Pippa continued to talk. "Bee-three-en-one-three has informed me that these items belong to the club's proprietor one Kiba the Hutt. As Captain Quint Hart has informed me personal property is a an important concept in Galactic culture and that most species do not have a 'clan property' attitude towards such things and that I am not supposed to take things that belong to others because it will make them angry." Dliserfia snapped out of her pondering at this, "So it's bad to steal because people will be mad?" "Yes and 'They'll put a drekking bounty on you so big it'll blot out the stars' or something to that effect." "So if the person was dead and couldn't get angry or post bounties...?" "Oh that would be fine. How much did you want to take? I might have to fetch my vehicle from out back If we want to take all of it." Dliserfia looked dumbfounded at the incomprehensible little creature before her. "What about the droid?" she asked shakily "Oh, it is mostly bored. It apparently spends much of its time committing heroic poetry to memory, it speaks almost entirely in lengthy and confusing parables about star maidens and courageous warriors. It was designed as some kind of librarian unit originally and was scrap rebuilt for this vault but they never changed its personality protocols." Pippa popped open the casing on the droid and tweaked the slave unit in its processor so that in no longer had to stay here and protect the vault. With this the droid grunted mechanically and clambered upstairs with its crab like legs. "The vault should be unlocked due to the power surges in the building, these kind of pads reset to a default where any string of sufficient length will open the lock unless it is attached to a secondary generator, a precaution that was eschewed in favour of other expenses by the looks of things, the droid was also cheaply made. I will get my vehicle and meet you back in the security room. It can probably just about haul this much." With that Pippa scurried out of the club to grab her walker. Dliserfia pulled open the effectively unlocked cage and set about carrying the credits and drugs upstairs and arranging them to be as transportable as possible.

Pippa jogged back to the Vehicle port as fast as she could manage. The streets were still flooded with panicked patrons. She popped open her Holocom as she went and called Quint and Kyllan. "I could not find the contact and have been informed that the situation is getting dangerous in the building. I am getting my walker to collect what I am assured is some unclaimed valuable cargo and I will then secure the ships for take off if we need leave, also be prepared for a loud bang I need to make an entrance on the east side of the building to collect the cargo. Also be careful, my feet are itchy, so a storm is brewing." Pippa then hopped into her walker, powering it up she kicked it into full drive. Calculating rapidly based on the depth of the vault and outer design of the building she took the walker across the street and built up enough speed to make a suitable entrance in the security office above. The walker clanked up to its full speed. People scattered out of it's way as its massive bulk powered past. At the peak of its velocity it leapt into the air and crashed into the club hard enough to cause and almighty boom to reverberate throughout the building.

Die Shize · Feb 21, 2017

OOC: Sorry for the wait. Also, I'm not purposely ignoring anyone's characters. Just waiting for a good opening for Vintar to interact. My end of this post could very well lead to that opening.
The Big Beauty
Theme

Bantha poodoo. “Pah!” Kiba spat in the general direction of the Jedi assassin as the schutta just stood there ignoring the retinue that the Hutt had just unleashed upon her. And had given her an actual chance to walk out alive. Bantha poodoo! Who was she!? Who was she to ignore Kiba!? The schutta was just that. She was nothing. Give a slave a lightsaber, train her in the Force, and still a slave she would remain. More so with Jedi dogs to bow down to. Kiba was not in the least bit impressed, and she knew exactly what consequences awaited the sorry shag who found herself victim to Kiba the Hutt.

A mighty grin spread across Kiba’s face as she considered her options. Sit on her face? Flay her face? Eat her face? Which shall it be? It was quite a selection, something like sampling from the many delicacies spread out at a five star buffet table before choosing an actual dish. Kiba was in no frame of mind to settle for just one. Revenge, of course, was a dish best served slimy. She would punish this Human poundflesh of udder, milk her screams out of her, stretch her on a rack upon the ceiling of her beloved Purgatory. No such schutta, Jedi or otherwise, entered a Hutt’s establishment causing a ruckus like this and walked out alive. If they did, it was only because that Hutt was generous enough to take just their arms and leave their legs. Kiba wasn’t feeling generous. And I have many a trick up my sleeve, you Jedi schutta.

With a single look, and a lick of her lips, one of the remaining Trandoshan bodyguards to her left nodded back and began to move immediately, though his movements were calm and collected. He nodded at the other guards and each one took to individual preparation, manipulating their carbines, pulling spheres from pouches, getting ready to spring into action. To HUNT!! The hunt was on, the nets were prepared, the spears were sharpened, and the meat on the menu was one of the tastiest dishes that Kiba would yet eat. Jedi. Fierfekking. Human. TIME TO EAT!!

Then, all at once, the room erupted in a lightshow of fireworks popping in everyone’s faces far too close for comfort. Kiba instinctively held her hand over her own as she winced and whined. Everything was happening too fast. Everything was happening! What was happening!? Lightning forked and fluctuated all about her lovely suite, dancing destruction that made Twi’leks leap out of their cages to join the mindless herd in its frantic flight. Guards dropped by the dozen, most all at once, and screams echoed out amid crackling electricity. Kiba was awestruck, though, fortunately, not lightning-struck. The bantha poodoo Jedi had devastated her security force, had run them through with electric blades beyond her lightsaber. The shag had advanced, pushing through the fleeing crowd, forward and onward and—

“NOOOOWWWW!!!”

Kiba roared with all her might. Now was the time. The amount of energy and concentration that the Jedi assassin would have needed to hit every single guard in that room before any had a chance to react would have left her relatively drained. Fortunately, then, Kiba’s closest defenders, four Trandoshans who were proven more useful than the dead and dumb Bothan, took cover behind the dais while raising shields. As the lightning wavered, they popped back up, so that by the time the Jedi had reached their mistress, they had launched flash bangs, launched bolts, and launched their mistress up into the air.

Kiba flew, and she flew high. Her throne ejected, but it did not eject her. Rather, the entire chair snapped upward, springing from the dais and shooting toward the ceiling in a heartbeat, flames erupting from its base where boosters propelled it. That ceiling had since instantly opened up to air and sky, a rush of wind resulting, and in a moment, empty space was where Kiba once was just as a saber was raised and a battle cry had been released. For her part, Kiba hadn’t screamed at all. She had cackled. See you later, Jedi schutta.

The Vagrant Victor
Recurring Theme

The pansy di’kut could only stand there and stare after all. While he blinked and gulped saliva, Vintar winked and gulped liqueur. Sissy. A bunch of kriffing sissies. Satisfied, he left it at that and turned back to face his girlfriends, relieved once the jokes had ended, even though the jokes were still standing there.

“You see, doll.” Vintar stroked the brunette’s cheek with a finger, trailing it down to her lips for her to have a taste. “Men are scared of Vintar. And boys, well, they’re downright terrified.” Now get that finger out of your mouth. He removed it, leaned in and snogged the broad silly.

“Okay, okay. My turn…” called the blonde.

She had stolen him back. If this kept up, Vintar would struggle to keep up. He didn’t mind being in the middle and all but this was becoming a bit taxing and harder work than waiting on a fat Hutt to bid him entry to its VIP floor. Ah well. Business is business. Business was good. More saliva exchanged and then the brunette tapped his shoulder for another round.

“Oh, already? Heh, all right then.” He turned to face his other friend.

“No, look. What’s with all the traffic?”

He followed her gaze to the rest of the club but could only shrug. People were moving, dancing, some moving more like security than dancing and particularly quickly toward the upper levels, but so what?

“Ah, probably just some drunken Ithorian vomiting everywhere.”

The brunette exchanged a look with the blonde but, well, whatever the birds were concerned about, Vintar was more concerned with the feathery bodies of said birds.

“Now, where were we, ladies?” He looked from one to the other then jerked his head aside as a bottle came flying toward it.

“GO PICK ON SOMEBODY YOUR OWN SIZE, YOU…YOU…YOU PERSON PICKER!!”

Oh, I can’t believe it. The pansy’s got some balls after all. Vintar could immediately see that the joker’s friend was drunk enough to throw a bottle at him without realizing the consequence. Fortunately, it had neither hit him nor his seat, instead flying over it toward the first level of which—

“ALL RIGHT WHO’S THE DEAD MAN WHO THREW THAT BOTTLE!?”

Vintar ignored that and focused his vengeance on the dead man who threw that bottle. It, after all, had first been aimed at him. If it had shattered on his head, pieces of it would have flown upon the faces of his gasping girlfriends, and he did not like the thought of ruining those luscious visages. I know who the dead man is. Vintar always knows a dead man when he sees one. Breathing in and out steadily yet shakily, he gave a slow blink to that dead man.

“You’re a dead man.”

“YEAH WELL YOU’RE A BALLSY MAN SO KRIFFY YOU YOU BALLSY…BALLSACK SOMETHING MAN!!”

Yeah.

Vintar was about to spring from his seat and go bash someone’s face in when a bright light flashed the vicinity, neither strobe nor siren, instantly recognized as coming from the VIP floor. Hutt. The word raced through his mind by instinct. Feint screams, as though distant, could be heard over the music, babble and other noise of the main floors, but Vintar knew the source was not distant at all. It was coming from the VIP floor. Hutt. Lights flickered, certainly not in a setting that warranted them to. What the druk was going on up there? Even Sissypants and his we-got-spirit cheerleaders had to ignore everything else and train their heads at the VIP lounge. Suddenly, security’s disappearance was beginning to make sense. The uncertainty made him sigh.

“What the kriff is—”

Lightning. Explosive lightning. Just like that. Like the fifth floor below it, the sixth floor, the VIP suite, abruptly lit up all in blue where pink once was. The Force. Kriff it all. The flarg had hit the fan. The power shortage that caused the whole club to blink on and off for a few moments also caused the DJ system at the main floors to echo out, the music sounding like a fish dying, before it kicked back onto an entirely new beat. Lightning.

Theme

“NOW!!”

“MOTHER KRIFF!!”

A sharp pain sliced across Vintar’s cheek to draw blood just as reaction compelled him to take action and jerk his head aside. Had he not, the brunette’s knife would have surely slashed right across his throat. As warrior insight further compelled, Vintar complied, shooting forward with a pulse from his once relaxing lounge just before the blonde on his right could lash out beside her friend. Expectedly, she had, her own blade swiping through thin air. Vintar immediately spun to face her and, as he did, his boot spun too, crashing against her temple and knocking her down and out for the count. He stared wide-eyed, amazed at what had just happened. Though the petty instants that followed did not help determine if he was simply amazed at not having expected the unexpected, since this wasn’t exactly the first time that a woman had tried to kill him, in a not terribly dissimilar scenario at that.

“Am I that bad of a kisser!?”

“Go farkle yourself!” the brunette spat, launching forward and putting all her weight in a thrust with her knife. Vintar easily dodged it, seizing the crazy slag’s wrist and slamming his free hand into her elbow. Her arm produced a crunch, her knife escaped her hand and her energy escaped her throat as she wailed amid the musical lightning of the interior. Assassins. The thought invited itself even as Vintar shoved the woman over the railing toward the first floor. Hutt’s? Or someone else’s? Whoever it was, they didn’t want him here. Then again, maybe they’re from Drake. Or Dax. Or Drone. Or some other di’kut whose name starts with a “D” and wants me dead. Or, as Vintar very well knew, someone whose name started with any other letter of the alphabet at a take-your-pick lottery selection. There were plenty of them to go around.

He kept the thoughts up as he quickly but cautiously paced around the third floor, dodging hapless souls shouting and screaming and generally running in the direction that was the exit and was not the VIP floor. I Got Jokes was somewhere in between. Vintar shoved him aside and he squealed. His drunken savior didn’t like that and stepped forward.

“HEY, CRAPHEAD, THAT’S MAH FRIEND YOU FLARGIN—”

The rest was lost to a wail that sounded something suspiciously familiar to the brunette’s once Vintar flicked his fist forward and broke the di’kut’s nose without a second thought or a halt to his walk. The di’kut stepped away. No more stepping forward for him. Forward, Vintar advanced, heading straight for the fourth level that led to fifth and sixth. He was ever wary for other hitters, but so far so good. As soon as his boots hit the flight of steps, he wobbled on them, a pulsating VRWAM! seizing his eardrums.

“HOLY SHAIWURT!!”

Somehow, Vintar had afforded himself a few seconds to look left and right and hope nobody had caught his nonsensical slip of the tongue. The whole club had just been shaken as though its Hutt had decided to finally dance instead of sit on its flab. The image raced through his mind even before things ‘settled down’. Whatever the noise was, it had sounded like an explosion from above. Great. Now what? Didn’t seem to matter where a man like Vintar stepped tonight. In Nar Shaddaa, every step forward was a step backward in Purgatory.

StarWriter · Feb 21, 2017

Danger. The word and the essence of it was ever present to someone trained in the ways of Mandalore, though Kyllan was an odd exception to the extremes of the life of a smuggler, warrior, soldier or merc. He had never known true loss, even when facing dire straits he had yet to find himself in a situation that either, through his own devices, or help from a friend, was unable to come out with anything that couldn't be healed given enough time. The Force. Kyllan had scant few dealings with Jedi, and only one such encounter with their dark counterparts and that had been more than enough of a meeting to last him a lifetime. Though it had not totally been directed at him being in the vicinity when someone was viciously slaughtering others with a combination of the mind and frightening crimson saber, what he had seen of the Force, at least the dark side of it, was enough to last him a lifetime. Had Kyllan been aware of what was transpiring on the highest level of the club the Mandolorian would have demanded they all vacate the premises immediately. As things stood, he was like a kath hound with its hackles raised. Something was not right, but there was nothing yet to give him pause for concern. And then there was the matter of their contact to deal with.

When Hart's holo-communicator went off and the image appeared he'd scowl, Jablonians were almost as disgusting as Hutts. While the two conversed he scanned the crowds, a guard dog ever alert for threats.

"...Don't give the droids any reason to kill us, Buckethead, stop looking around." Kyllan would grunt as he looked to his fellow captain, hands resting on both of his Sunspear heavy blasters. "Even you know something's up. I'm trying to keep us alive you old codger. I know how to deal with droids." When he glanced towards their contact he made note of the assassin droids guarding him and cursed. "Karabast." Kyllan would remain quiet and listen as the toad greeted them.

"Yeees, Captain Quint Hart, of the rust bucket Yoania, and a fully armoured Mandolorian... and who..." Before the slimy contact even finished his sentence he already had Kyllan's complete attention. He knew what was coming next. "... is that. She would fit into my collection nicely."

Every muscle in Kyllan's body would tense and his right hand would nimbly drift from his right thigh holster to the pouch closest it on his belt. A cylindrical object would fall easily into his palm and he'd lean around Alisha, one hand on her shoulder with his armored chest against her back to show she was not alone. "You sure about that?" He would utter coldly through the speaker of his signature helmet. In his right hand the thermal detonator he held, active would be just visible enough for the Jablonian to see. More than enough to show just how protective this particular armoured Mandolorian was of his crew. especially the one being ogled by the toad himself. Kyllan took great care that the droids could not see the grenade, lest they be prompted to shoot. The moment his point was made he'd deactivate the device but still hold it in his grasp. Alisha's light grasp of his opposite wrist was unneeded but gratefully received.

The interruption brought about by both of their holo-communicators alerting them to Pippa's call pulled his attention briefly and hopefully eased any tension. "I could not find the contact and have been informed that the situation is getting dangerous in the building. I am getting my walker to collect what I am assured is some unclaimed valuable cargo and I will then secure the ships for take off if we need leave, also be prepared for a loud bang I need to make an entrance on the east side of the building to collect the cargo. Also be careful, my feet are itchy, so a storm is brewing."

"We're with the contact now. Get what you can and get out. I just heard blaster fire and some smaller detonations, sounded like various grenades going off. I think we may definitely need the ships ready to blast off. We'll be with you as soon as we can and be safe." Kyllan refrained from using their compatriot's name in their present company yet would look to all of them. "Whatever's happening upstairs, we need to get out of here n..." The entire building reverberated with an intense rumbling as if it was hit by something. Hard. "..now. That's probably her. Let's not be here when whomever is up there causing trouble descends." At this point the detonator was back in its pouch and Kyllan had both hands resting firmly on the blasters at his sides. Were it not for the Hk-47s he'd already have them drawn and ready, but he could fire from the hip quite adeptly when called to.

And it was seemingly more likely to need to as proverbial hell began to let loose within Purgatory. Even the other grizzled male who had been enjoying company of two lovelies, when Kyllan glanced back in time to see one pull a knife on him, was having his night take a sour turn. Kyllan watched him rush upstairs briefly until he was out of sight and would scan the crowd, while keeping Hart and Alisha in front of him. If Kyllan were a coiled spring he would appear as if about to snap.

Sangga · Feb 24, 2017

"Byaaaak! How d-!" Zosma was cut off by the explosions above and Hart had taken the opportunity he needed to intervene on Kyllan's behalf. The grenade had been seen and the droids had begun to turn. Hart placed his arm around the shoulders of the plump redskin, turning him around to face the seating area.

"Well... we're getting distracted, you had a significant offer that has dragged me back to this swill bucket of a world... even with my debts." He glance back to Kyllan and Alisha to ensure they were OK. He turned the alien back to face the group and pointed to the pair. "We've got a lot of business to get on with, one prize Mandalorian and my mechanic... not to mention some other people elsewhere." He looked around as if taking in a few spotters in the crowd. His wrist had been vibrating a bit, a call was coming in.

"Weeell... Hart, you scoundrel, you have served me well in the past, not that I have ever seen you with these Skags. Here take this and get out of here!" The Jablogian quivered with anger or expectation. He handed Hart a dataslate, that had the delivery details on it. Hart looked to the others and tipped the brim of his hat to the chubby, short alien. He then turned on his heels and headed into the crowd, pulling up his wrist to turn on the communicator.

"...I am getting my walker to collect what I am assured is some unclaimed valuable cargo and I will then secure the ships for take off if we need leave, also be prepared for a loud bang I need to make an entrance on the east side of the building to collect the cargo. Also be careful, my feet are itchy, so a storm is brewing." Hart wanted to interrupt, but the call was hung up by the little Chadra-Fan. He could've swung at anybody that so much as gave him even a half reason. He ensured that the other two were nearby... as for Kaylon (@Kaylon Neroka), he'd separated from the group at one point... was this all he wanted? A lift to Nar Shadaa? He reviewed the slate, once he got near the exit and turned around.

"A non-descript case... contents listed as scientific materials... shielded form scanner and... oh GAK ME!" he looked into Kyllan's visor, the look in his eyes held genuine fear and concern for the few seconds Hart broke his usually neutral facade, then his gaze drifted to Alisha. "Tatooine..."

Alisha D. · Feb 24, 2017

"You sure about that?"

Alisha felt Kyllan's arm around her, as well as his armour behind her back, and despite the gravity of the situation, felt a slight, warm tingle. It was strange to her also how his cold, detached tone that was clearly meant to threaten the individual that somewhat threatened her, manage to make her knees week for just a moment. It felt nice to feel so protected. But she quickly shrugged it off, for now. After Kyllan responded to her tug, though, she remained quiet to observe the interaction between Hart and that disgusting mass of fat. She nodded at him in response to indicate she was K, though her expression was tense. The sooner she was away from that scum, the better. After the brief can from Pippa, which gave Alisha some relief hearing she was OK, Alisha then heard the explosion..

" That's probably her. Let's not be here when whomever is up there causing trouble descends."

She turned around quickly in alarm, frantically trying to see where it was from, and nods in agreement to Kyllan. She would not complain when the contact invited them to get out of there. She followed Hart, and looked back to make sure Kyllan was behind. It was certainly a comfort knowing he was here. No small one either..She gives him a small smile, then turns back to the Captain.

"A non-descript case... contents listed as scientific materials... shielded form scanner and... oh GAK ME!"

Alisha would raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Tattooine.."

Alisha's face actually lit up with understanding, and a little relief. Most people, understandably dreaded going to Tattooine, but for her, a native of the place, it wouldn't be so bad. "Well ..I see.. it'll be fine. I might even be useful for once...but let's not hang here, hmm?..."

She looks around, concerned at the amount of chaos the place was in. She noticed a guy fighting two ladies which seemed familiar to her from before.

"Wasn't that guy making out with them earlier.." she shrugs. "Anyway let's grab Pippa and get out shall we..."

Pippa · Feb 26, 2017

Dliserfia worked as efficiently as she could. She had quickly taken stock of the contents of the room. Having worked here for a couple of years she had a decent idea of what should be here for a month's take, during one busy season she'd heard almost ten million from Kiba's accountant when she'd gotten him drunk, but with the drugs coming through here it might've been closer to thirteen. This had been decent month for Purgatory, until tonight. Seeing as there was just under a fortnight left before the end of the month, she reckoned there might have been almost six million in profit so far. However of that six a third would be paid electronically directly to the club's account and never saw the inside of the vault. The other two thirds would be a mixture of credit ingots, mixed denomination credit chips and other 'acceptable' hard currencies, Purgatory also wasn't above setting collateral aside against an unpaid tab or two. Dliserfia decided to focus on the credit chips first. She figured despite credits not being as universally accepted in the outer rim they would be more valuable than the handfuls of miscellaneous planetary currency. The chips also went up to much higher denominations than the ingots and weighed less. She found the box with the 'misc above a hundred' label and emptied it out. There were fifteen chips that seemed to vary dramatically from just over a hundred to several tens of thousands. She new some of these bigger cards were for tabs, debts, parties or 'services rendered' and she quickly tucked each into the belt lining of her skirt and out of the way. She then moved on to the chip boxes marked 'a hundred' or 'fifty' and started taking those up the stairs to the security room and piling them up on one of the desks. After a few minute as she was trying to work out if it was worth moving onto the gold credit ingot cases or to grab the marked twenty chip boxes she was knocked to the ground by a massive impact in the security room above.

Something had jogged loose in the cockpit of Pippa's walker. It was designed for heavy impacts but she'd been pushing it far harder than normal recently and in non-submerged conditions. She made a note to add more insulation and improve the chamber's suspension against the outer hull. She was still craned back trying to get the air supply functional when Dliserfia came up the stairs spitting fury. "WHAT THE GRAK IS THIS?" She yelled at the massive figure standing in the ruins of the security room wall, back-lit by the street lights of Nar Shaddar, paint and rock dust billowing around the room. "This is my diving walker" Pippa intoned deeply over the walkers speakers as she wriggled the last of the wires back into place. "NO, really? What the grak is this? I thought you were talking about some kind of speeder, who has...this?" Dliserfia waved her arms like a distressed Rakk. "This is my diving walker." Pippa repeated unsure of the path of questioning "I brought it as I said I would, in order to carry more of the cargo from the vault". Dliserfia looked dumbfounded. "Y'know what? Whatever, load these boxes into it...however you can, I'll start getting the next ones". She darted back down stairs and left Pippa to it. Pippa moved her walked over to the boxes and positioned it facing the hole she made in the side of the club. She drew and prepared her Anti-material blaster rifle to fire and locked the walker into a ready position. Then she popped out and pulled one of the three rear cargo canisters by its grav-clamp and hovered it over to the desk and began filling it with boxes of credits.

After a few moments of quick effort between the two of them and the grav-clamps they had filled all three containers on the walker and had tucked two barrels of fluid narcotic under each arm. They had filled one container with high value chips, one with gold credit ingots that they'd had to pour in out of their cases because they were too bulky for the canister and the last with as many packets of powdered drugs as would fit. There was far too much in the vault for them to take it all however and there was still probably a million or so credits and the same in miscellaneous currency. Pippa had also taken as many of the tech based pieces of collateral as she could fit in her shoulder bag, it wasn't much but she would have a few new rarer components to tinker with. Pippa hopped back up onto the walkers open hatch and turned to Dliserfia. "There are handles on the back designed for a single passenger of typical humanoid size. If you wish to grip on I will take us to the ship port just east of here where my crew's ships are docked." "No that's okay, there's something else I need to do first, but I'll tell you what cutie, If I have time after I'll catch you up?" she flirted slightly with the small strange creature, no sense on closing a door she thought. "I would like that" Pippa did not really notice the flirtation but grinned a jagged smile anyway "I like new people, it would be good to see you again" And with that the two went their separate ways.

Pippa launched the walker out into the night. It smashed into the street heavily. The dirty street shattered into gravel beneath the impact of the vehicle. The legs groaned and pinged, just about absorbing the impact of the drop. The air system broke loose in the cockpit again. Pippa snorted in frustration. She powered off the air and opened the walker's vents. She hated keeping the vents open and running, but when the situation called for it she'd bear it. She made a more solid note to completely rework the air system since it had failed twice in quick succession. Vents open she clanked down the street towards the ship port. Once there she lowered the ramp to the Yoania and trudged the walker inside. She briefly messaged Quint and Kyllan to inform them that the ships were secured and then relayed with the droids on the Double Entendre to get both flight ready.

Dliserfia watched the massive shape clank off into the night and smiled to herself. She silently celebrated having pocketed more than enough credits to just disappear into the outer-rim and not have to worry for a while. She slunk her way back out of the security office and rounded the floor towards the stairs down. She didn't feel too bad, the small creature had walked away with more than enough to sate whatever crew it had, she didn't think there'd be anyone to chase her down over this, at least not for a decade or two. A slight skip in her step and a smile in her heart she raised a hand out to open the door but stopped short as it began opening from the other side.

Pippa · Apr 3, 2017

OOC:

This is an epilogue for @Sangga, @StarWriter, @Frannykins87, @Pippa Rhute and @Kaylon Neroka and how they left Nar Shaddaa

As the ruddy Jablogian and his stiff assistants surged off into the night with the crowd, Hart set about gathering his scattered crew. He waved Kyllan and Alisha over, who had been taking a moment to ensure each other were still okay amidst the chaos that spreading throughout the club. Hart all but rolled an eye but focussed on his wrist comm.

“Neroka, where'd you end up you gakker? We need to get to the drop location.”

“Dammit Hart I went back to the ship.” Neroka replied brusquely

“You did what-”

“Look, I've been in a jungle for four years, I'm not ready for the streets of Nar Shaddaa Hart, you know that.”

“Fine, see if you can contact Pippa, she should be heading your way with some 'cargo', we'll head to the package and get it.”

Hart snapped the comm shut with a scowl. “Come on then you two, we've got a box to grab on the way out.”

The crew pushed they way out of the club along side the tide of panicked humanoid flesh. The noise out side of the club was ridiculous. While many a patron had made for the hills as was the sensible move in the Nar Shaddaa club scene, a fair crowd had gathered around and muttered murmured and shrieked at each new burst of bolts or spread of fire from the first floor. The crew made their way out of the crowd and towards the package location. Several streets over and not too far from the space port was a series of plain storage units. Scanning through the data pad they eventually came to the listed unit and punched in the access code. The shutter juddered up and out of the way, in clear need of oiling. The unit was empty but for one large hermetically sealed durasteel crate. It had a standard grav clamp so was easily movable and just as the slate details there was a ten percent advance on the job on a chip onto of the crate, 5000 credits. Hart was glad to see that Zosma hadn't screwed them over, at least not yet. Though there was a moment of pause, if Zosma was willing to pay this much upfront then what on earth were they shipping. Well for now it didn't matter, they'd been paid to move the crate, paid not to open it and paid not to care about its contents and that's what they'd do.

Dliserfia stepped back and she took in the sight of the unexpected mercenary. As she absorbed details her mind raced, doing everything she could to come up with a good strategy. She spotted his build and rugged good looks, he carried himself like a man with a mission, but the cut on his cheek and his slightly unbalanced gate told her that he wasn't having the best night. She put on panic like a coat of lipstick. All tears and shaking she staggered past him. Had it been a normal night for Vintar he might have just let it go, well the less violent side of normal. Clearly on edge he confronted her.

“What was that explosion and why are you still here?”

She decided to turn it up a notch, Struggling breathlessly she explained as incomprehensibly as she could “I was hiding and there's murder and it's scary and lightning and and My boss and and ...” then she descended into shuddering sobs and sunk to her knees. Vintar raised an eyebrow, betrayed by two damsels already tonight he didn't have time for this.

“Just leave you idiot, and stop snivelling” Vintar turned and made his way to the sound of the explosion up ahead.

She struggled down her tears audibly until he'd moved out of hearing. She hopped up wiped off her face and made a break for it before anyone else showed up. She managed to slip out with the tail end of the crowd and into the packed street out side the club. Tapping the credit chips in her waist band she started running. She new there would be a small window, she'd have to deposit the credits and jet as fast as she could, while Kiba might be dead her partners and 'business associates' would be after this money soon enough. She pounded down the street to the nearest exchange, slowing to walk as she came into view to dispel suspicion. She made a good show of waiting patiently in queue before making it to a teller booth. She popped open her 'side account' the one she'd been skimming extra tips into for a few years, she'd managed to accumulate nearly 10,000 credits but that seemed like wasted effort now with this score. She buzzed each card through with relish, watching the number climb ever higher and settling finally and over a million credits. He heart nearly stopped. She could finally be free of this soot ball, the filthy streets, the foaming gutters, she almost did a jig out of sheer joy before a flash of red appeared on the screen to bring it all crashing down.

ASSETS FROZEN ON AUTHORTY OF KIBA THE HUTT

Read the flashing warning. Dliserfia's heart dropped through her stomach. The fat bitch was still alive? Or, had the credits been tagged? Flott! She was completely screwed. She had no money and if they traced this account back to her they'd be coming, you didn't get to just steal from the Hutts.

“Flarg on me!” She swore. She left the booth as calmly as she could. Doing everything in her power not to draw attention. She turned from the exchange and walked. She clasped her arms tightly around her to stop them from shaking and just walked, anything so that she didn't just collapse on the floor and curl into a ball. As she made it back past the club she could see the planetary authorities descending on the building, putting out fires arresting bystanders. The 'police' on Nar Shaddaa were effectively low level enforcers for the Hutt families. She saw the hole in the side of the building and the small crater in the road and she wondered for a moment how that odd furry creature was doing. It hit her like a brick to the teeth, that gullible creature would be her ticket off this rock and out of this mess. It'd said it was heading to the ship port east of here. She walked now with renewed purpose and vigour.

It only took a moment or two to reach the port. She wasn't sure what to look for but was lucky enough to see the massive walker bobbing around a ship de-hooking cables and fuel lines with a bunch of droids and a Pantoran that looked just livid to be there. The Pantoran gave her pause, with that nasty looking blaster rifle resting on his fore arm his looked to be some kind of lookout. She decided to throw caution to the wind, worst case she died cleanly here in this port rather than be tortured to death by the Hutt's reacquisition agents.

“Heya Pippa” she called out. The Pantoran's rifle jumped into his shoulder, she could tell form the steady grip and unwavering barrel that he could probably shoot of her eyelashes if he felt like it. The massive walker turned to the Pantoran and they exchanged a few words. She couldn't hear them at this distance but it seemed an agreement was reached as the walker came forward and the rifle was lowered, but not holstered.

“Hello Dliserfia, I did not expect to see you so soon.”

“Yeah, well, it's a crazy life isn't it.”

“I am not sure what you mean but I am happy to see you again, may I ask why you are here?”

Dliserfia decided to turn the charm back up “Well I was wondering if I could come along with you and your friends, my club burnt down and I don't have a lot to stay here for, it'd be nice to meet some new people and really...spend some time together” she pressed herself against the front of the walker, as seductively as she could manage given the circumstances.

“I don't see why not but I will have to ask the captains.”

“Captains? Plural?”

“Yes we have two ships you see, one moment please.” Pippa fired up her comm unit and buzzed Hart and Kyllan. “I have acquired a passenger, is that acceptable?”

“What? Shortstack what do you mean?”

“Who?”

“Her name is Dliserfia and she is a barmaid.”

“From the club? Where is she going and has she paid a fare?”

“Yes, I do not know and technically yes”

“Technically? Shortstack, do better”

“She is responsible for an influx of valuable cargo”

“So she got you to steal from the club? That's a problem, the Hutts will hunt you, and now by extension us.”

“It is okay there is no one to follow us. The owner of the cargo is dead.”

Both captains paused for a moment to consider the situation. Neither men were happy about the potential threat she represented but if she helped them pull out a decent amount from the club...

“Pippa put her on” Pippa opened her walker and handed Dliserfia the device.

“Hello?”

“Can you guarantee that no one is coming for you?”

Dliserfia was taken aback for a second but quickly regained composure. “As long as you are careful you should be absolutely fine. No one will be looking for me, but some people in some places may recognise this gear, but you guys strike me as sensible enough not to do that.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“To be honest, away from here, I'll happily leave at the first stop if you want me to but I'd be grateful to tag along for a few systems.”

“That'll cost, how much is this 'technically a fare' worth?”

“More than both your ships combined.”

After a small amount of deliberation the two captains felt that Dliserfia would be allowed passage for her 'generous' faire. She assisted Pippa and the droids with the flight prep and eventually Neroka consented (at the behest of hart over the comms) to allow Dliserfia into the ships.

It was a simple enough task to take the package the few blocks to the ship port from the storage unit. Alisha was left to guide the grav clamped box as the two captains convened about something new that Pippa had done. When not talking Kyllan was still on edge, wary of poachers and thieves on these dangerous streets and was tensed up all the way to the ships. But the walk was otherwise uneventful. It only took a moment or two for the package to be loaded up into the hold of the Double Entendre, the crew was taken to meet Dliserfia the new live-in barmaid and to take stock of their recent haul in the hold of the Yoania. After a few minutes of hellos and passing counts the crew was contented to be about their business and made their way up off the surface of Nar Shaddaa and towards their next destination of Tattooine.

A Fistful of Credits

Die Shize

The Laughing Man

LordOfShadows

Shadow Lord Incarnate

ZeroOrgan

Die Shize

The Laughing Man

Sangga

Frannykins87

ZeroOrgan

Pippa

The Inconsistent

Die Shize

The Laughing Man

StarWriter

ZeroOrgan

Sangga

Alisha D.

Pippa

The Inconsistent

Die Shize

The Laughing Man

StarWriter

Sangga

Alisha D.

Pippa

The Inconsistent

Pippa

The Inconsistent