Open Social Gathering the Flock

Alfie Shepherd

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Gathering the Flock




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Kuat was a bustling world of great productivity. What better a planet could serve as such a role for the Hutt Cartel and better yet, Alfred Shepherd himself? Nothing came close, as far as Alfie was aware, but he still had to play things safe. Running a gang with Skelgok Desilijic wasn't going to be easy- but nothing in this galaxy was simplistic these days. With the fallout of the New Republic, core worlds like Kuat were on the market for anyone to get their hands on. Alfie liked to think that he struck gold first, which was why he sent out an invitation for anyone willing to broke business in The Drunken Herd.

It had already become quite the popular with the local factory workers. The establishment was lowkey and calming. It wasn't some annoying club with music blaring in your ear so loud that you couldn't have a decent conversation. No, this bar was far better, but mainly because of the operations taking place right below the droid servers' metallic feet. This was going to be the home of the Pahneke Baha Gang, which was Huttese for 'The Horned Flock'. It paid homage to both Alfie's last name and his most wealthy partner, Skelgok. But now it was simply about finding those who were willing to be apart of something bigger than themselves. People who were not expendable, but dependable.

The invitation was vary vague to begin with, but that was a precaution to avoid any unwanted attention. Alfie was just not interested in making any moves against the planet's defense force so early with practically nothing to back him. Anyone who showed up would earn a sliver of Alfie's respect, and anyone who arrived and made the right impression would be rewarded accordingly. So, Alfie sat in his meeting room, awaiting for scoundrels, mercenaries, and thugs alike to enter the exclusive lower level of the bar. If Skelgok wanted to examine the good business, he was more than welcome to attend as well.


@Xorism

OPEN to all Syndicate members as well as any criminals or like-minded individuals.
 

Lissa Blackhand

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Lissa turned the business card in her hand a few times, almost like a fidget toy. She had looked the details over more than enough, everything was legitimate, and it looked like he was exactly where he said he would be. She put the card back in her coat pocket, pulling the collar up against the wind as she gazed up at the Drunken Herd. It looked homely enough, simple but rustic, the kind of place that'd still be standing a century later with a new owner and a fresh, but still faded, paint-job. She wondered if Alfie owned the place. Given the job he took on with her and, presumably, a few others, he'd be able to afford it, though if his words implied anything, his sights were set higher than a bar.

"I'm here to see Alfred Shepard," She said to the bartender when she finally entered, being directed toward what looked like a meeting room. "Hey...full house I see," She said, gesturing toward the empty chair. "Guess I'm the only one that can stand you for longer than 10 minutes, at least for now."

@Charles
 

Byt Tarkona

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Byt watched from the darkness of an alley across the way from the entrance to the Drunken Herd, idle smoke curling from his bac-atomizer as he saw a steady stream of dock workers and other labouring types enter the bar in groups, laughing and clapping one another on the back. From the time he had spent there, it seemed quiet enough. Just another watering hole on Kuat making the most of the off-duty looking for a place to rest and relax. He tapped the Datapad strapped to his wrist again; this was the place. He leaned up from the wall, set on walking across when a familiar figure cut into the crowd and entered before him. He paused a moment, before shrugging and marching inside.

He set his elbows to the bar top, the card that was passed to him on a smuggling run outside Sullust toying between his fingers. "Shepherd?" He questioned, the card flicked up to prove his invitation as he was directed elsewhere. He dip his chin and entered the meeting room below, a fanged grin and that precious card still toying between his fingers. "Alfie Shepherd?" He inquired towards the man, nodding toward Lissa in recognition. "Miss Blackhand"

@Panda Hermit 98 @Charles
 

Alfie Shepherd

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Alfie watched the two enter and his mind instantly went to work- analyzing the two like probe droids -what they were wearing, wielding, their posture, how they spoke... Alfie had to take another smoke from a cigar to keep himself from going mad. His personal bodyguard, Jorge, a burly figure wielding a vibro-axe, chuckled as he too sized up the potential new members. Alfie only had to side eye the Enforcer to get him to quiet himself.

"I know Lissa Blackhand enough to understand what she can bring to our 'business'..." Alfie's gaze lingered on Byt, his deep baritone and blank expression almost gave him a tired-hostile look. "But I only know your name, Mister Tarkona. What exactly makes you worthy of an invitation?" Alfred guessed that the Twi'lek was a smuggler of some sort- they all seemed to have the same attitude and shared the same stupid grin. There wasn't room for pride in the Pahneke Baha. Everything had to be done perfectly and with utmost professionalism. Lissa was an engineer, which was something especially productive on a planet like Kuat.


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Irys Nox

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Irys knew when it was appropriate, and not, to make an appearance.

Dressing simply, in a worker's simply jumper uniform over her armor and hiding her weaponry, she walked with the confidence of someone who had walked with her in this very room their entire lives, someone who sweat and worked like all the others here. Eyes settled on her for only a moment before sliding off like oil over water; she wouldn't attract attention with her current disguise.

Then again, very few overestimated a little old lady. Sharp eyes assessed the crowd, and when she made her way to the bartender, she propped an elbow on the bar, laying down a couple credits, along with the card. "Just the usual," she muttered, and the man nodded, beginning to draft her drink.

It was always the same song and dance, here; buy a drink, spill your woes. Sometimes get your ass thrown out if you were rude enough. But when the man spotted her card, he merely tilted his head towards the entrance, and she offered him a simple, curt nod.

"Thanks for listening, kiddo."

Taking her drink, she offered him a toast, before sliding off the bar, letting other patrons take their rightful seat and smoothly pocketing her card again.

Her quarry wasn't hard to spot, especially mid-conversation.

An assassin didn't wait to be spotted; they would only act. She took a draught of her drink, before lowering it to peer over the rim of the stein to stare at the other person he had his attention on, before silently making her way into the room, out of Lissa's line of sight at first until she would suddenly materialize opposite the woman at the table.

If Shepherd looked her way, she would merely lift her drink in a toast. Far be it her responsibility to manage a rude guest, unless the contracted pay was nice.

She is known as Orchid. Any ties to her civilian life are currently unknown.

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Alfie Shepherd

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Very few things were not assessed with Alfie's constantly analyzing mind. The woman known as Orchid was good at disappearing in a crowd, but Alfred had better eyes. When she entered the room, Alfie simply glanced at her to acknowledge her apparel. Then, his emotionless gaze filtered back onto Tarkona, who had yet to answer Alfred's simply request.

"I do not have all day, Mister Tarkona." An eyebrow raised to give his usually stoic poker -face a bit of a skeptical look. Jorge had told Alfie not to get his hopes too high for this meager gathering, and the bodyguard seemed to be proving a point. How much did it have to cost to ask for a little professionality? Orchid seemed to have the type of skill set Alfie needed- the way she entered rooms like a shadow, and the way she quieted her emotions so that Alfred couldn't even read them -Orchid was an assassin or something similar.

But what did Byt Tarkona have? A ship? Everybody had a ship, but not everybody could pilot one like a veteran. Alfie wasn't trying to be hard on the Twi'lek, for it was just business and the Scoundrel wanted good business.



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Byt Tarkona

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The Twi'lek welcomed the gaze, certainly not shying away from what he knew to be a measured look at his competence. He flicked the card to the tabletop and folded his arms, the grin remaining as he took a moment to measure the question. A moment that was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a third, one that had slipped in so quietly that it seemed as those she manifested from the air itself. He blinked a few times, dipping his chin to her before he returned his gaze to the man in question and cleared his throat.

"I've a ship, big enough to make the trip worth it and empty enough to fill it with what you need." He approached the table at which the man sat, leaning forwards as he planted his hands on the table and eyed the enforcer at his side with a crooked brow. He rolled a shoulder, before continuing. "More importantly, I know people." He flashed the grin once more; those aware of the culture would know that it was less boisterous bravado and more a show of capability, something to show that even when his back was against the wall he had something in his sleeve.

"You need cargo shifted through the docks on Courscant, I know a T3 Unit that with the right command opens up the diplomatic gate. You need Glitteryll at your market within the week, I have kin that can get it shifted there no questions asked. You want cargo shifted, I'm your guy." He rattled off the tirade like it was second nature. It was true that he had a knack for getting into places that most couldn't, or smoothing over a few of the right palms when it mattered. Tarkona was a small name, nothing to the wider galaxy, yet an honest one at that.


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Lissa Blackhand

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Lissa moved over to a chair, waiting for Alfie to give the go ahead before she sat down - you couldn't put a price on politeness, despite her initial snark. When it was given, she settled in and looked back at Byt with a little bemusement as he tried to sell himself to the human (metaphorically speaking). After he was finished talking, Lissa turned in the chair to look at Alfie.
"I've done a job with him before, he talks your ear off but he gets the job done professionally," She said, her gaze momentarily shifting to the third newcomer with a wary gaze.

It seemed Alfie was fond of having security for himself, she could respect that, though admittedly she thought him the type to defend himself instead of delegating. Either way, she needed to have an escape plan in case he wouldn't take no for answer - assuming her answer was a no anyway. She had no interest in being tied down to Kuat, so if this job required her to stay, it was an immediate no from her. Still, no rash decisions, let's see where this goes and go from there.

@Charles @Pendleton @Killa Ree @Xorism
 

Alfie Shepherd

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The Twi'lek didn't bore Alfie, at least. Connections were powerful things, and hopefully Byt Tarkona wasn't lying about the ones he had. A smuggler would be useful- but not for spice. Alfred wasn't a Pyke and he wasn't interested in the Hutt slave trade at all. Weapons, armor, coaxium, and information would suit the job better on Kuat. These scoundrels needed to be reminded that they weren't in the Outer Rim anymore. They would all have to hold themselves to a higher standard than they would probably be used to.

"Good... I expect, should you work for me, that you hold true to your word." Alfred's cold glare shifted from Byt to Lissa, who spoke up again. "As I've stated, I know what you are capable of. Lissa Blackhand, you would act as one of my personal officers. I will not offer this again should you refuse." Then, it was the mysterious woman known as Orchid that refused to speak up. "If any of you wish to join the Pahneke Baha Gang, this will serve as your home. You can leave whenever you like, but you cannot leave this gang. When you eat, you eat as Pahneke Baha. When you speak, you speak as Pahneke Baha. When you take a shit, you shit as a Pahneke Baha. Do you understand?" Jorge snickered at that last bit, but a stern look from Alfred made him straighten up, though he still smirked something childish.

"You carry the name of the Horned Flock- the Hutt Cartel itself. You will hold yourselves to the highest degree of professionality. We are not average criminals of the underworld. We eat like kings, fight like dragons, and scheme like masterminds. If that isn't for you, then I suggest you leave and never show your face around me again. If you think you can prove to me that you deserve to be treated like a noble, then you will find a home equal to no other."

"What say you?"



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