[HUTT] Once you're in, you're in for life.

[Viggy]

[ Click for OOC discussion thread ]

"The Baldfaced Lie" was a gem of a cantina, clean and politely serviced like so many others on scenic Nar Shadaa. The shantytown sinkhole with its scowling, pockmarked Duros bartender and watered down grey-green piss was one of many good places to go unnoticed by anyone who mattered, while still meeting in public. Iskaral sat quietly at the bar, nursing his disgusting beverage and not even complaining about it. His blaster was tucked into his dusty and faded, yet once quite vibrant vest. Similarly time-ravaged shirt and pants of fine make completed the look of a has-been. His boots were simple leather and they were kicking slightly in a fidget as he sat in the silent bar, ignored by bartender and the few other destitute patrons alike.

Heaving a sigh, the Zeltron rose his pale blue eyes to the ceiling as if seeking answers there in the sagging, damp surface above. Someone had written something up there at one point but he couldn't quite make it out. He sighed, again, and finished his drink.

Reluctantly, "One more."

He was waiting on two possible contacts within the Hutt Cartel, hoping to gain the security and income of a Prospect. Iskaral was confident that he had the skills to back up his bid; he could slice into just about any system he'd ever seen, he was a fair shot with his blaster and he was smart enough to have survived so far, wasn't he? Iskaral sipped, made a face and put the glass down. He couldn't help wondering about his mission here. There were a few debts to be collected on Nar Shadaa, mostly from smugglers and slavers that owed the Hutt Cartel money. That was about all Iskaral had been told, excepting that his talents for passing encrypted systems might be needed to secure the credits - if they ended up having to kill the indebted. He was half-hoping they would, which did make him feel a bit guilty. Part of him had become addicted to that feeling of finishing a person during his freelance bounty hunting days. Iskaral sipped again, wondering why he did so. It was absolutely disgusting.

[Feel free to throw in more about these indebted we're after]

 

[Oncaro]

((Sorry for the delay; I was busy with stuffs.))

"The Baldfaced Lie". One had to credit people for coming up with names like that for their establishments, especially in a cesspool like Nar Shadaa. This bar, like several others on the planet, was surprisingly clean and well-kept, which was a nice break from the filth of the "Little Coruscant", but Forrare Presdan still hated being here, for the most part. It was a great place to be if you didn't want to be noticed, but couldn't the Cartel be bothered to improve conditions on the moon?

Of course not, the young woman thought to herself as she sashayed into the cantina. That'd be too compassionate for the fat slugs... She shook her head a bit and sat down at the bar, motioning for the bartender to get her a drink; she was thirsty, and while the drinks served here didn't reflect the cleanliness of the bar, she didn't really care. She glanced to her side and noticed the Zeltron near her, blinking slightly. She hadn't seen him here before... Was he a new recruit? One she might have been supposed to meet?

((Not sure if you intended for her to be a contact, but I'm making a little assumption here.))

 

[Dóiteán]

I usually never frequented bars, finding them boring. But today was different. I walked through the familiar streets of Nar Shaddaa to a bar known as The Baldfaced Lie. A disgusting place, but they did serve a drink I particularly liked. Arriving at the bar, I gave a dark grin, wondering who would be stupid enough to get into a fight with him this time. I stepped inside, with my sword and daggers on me, and took a seat at the bar. "Bartender, the usual", I exclaimed as I watched the other patrons. Disgusting creatures, nothing like my people. A fearsome race that many had a right to be scared of.

As a gladiator working for the cartel, I got quite a few looks. Probably because of my looks and the large sword strapped to my waist. Growling in annoyance, I downed the drink in one gulp. Ordering another, I sat staring at each of the patrons. Wondering about them, few looked to be any good at anything.

 

[Viggy]

The young woman who came swaying into the bar stood out for obvious reasons, as did the towering figure of the Shistavanen hunter. There were grim stories of that one. Iskaral finished his vile drink and looked more closely at the one sitting near him, finding that she was blinking at him. He gave her a nod, swiveling on the squeaky barstool to gesture with palms open.

"Iskaral D'itarn. Are you here about the indebted?"

Lilac eyes shifted momentarily to the lupine warrior, then to the woman again. He leaned in, and spoke softly.

"The names, occupations, locations and debts were transmitted to me. That is all the information I have on the indebted so far. I'm ready to go when you are."

It seemed obvious these were his contacts. Iskaral wondered at the youth of the woman - another recruit? - and at the many blades on the Shistavanen. Both formidable in their own way, there was no reason people like them would come to a hole like this and at the time of the meet. The only question now was, could he track these indebted down and earn his place in the Cartel? I'd better be able to, at this point the Hutts are my only shot. And I doubt they tolerate failure.

 

[Oncaro]

Forrare blinked at the Zeltrons words, and glanced over to the lupine fellow; hadn't she seen him before at some point? She figured she had. Looking back to the Zeltron, she leaned in a bit as well and nodded.

"Forrare Presdan. So I take it you're the new recruit, huh?" she asked in a low voice. "I was told to meet someone about these indebted guys, maybe try to show him the ropes. Guess that's you. So... Before I go further, what exactly is it you can do?"

 

[Viggy]

"Yes, so I am. As to what I can do, besides pointing my blaster and shooting..."

Iskaral turned about, looking for a good opportunity to show off his talents. He found that one presented itself in a HoloNet banking terminal across the street, which was empty but for a couple of Squib urchins playing with garbage and squealing in delight. Iskaral smiled to himself, then looked back at his 'target'.

"Follow me."

Rising from his barstool, out of the terrible tavern and across the ill-maintained road, accessing the terminal and rapidly manipulating the hapless machine, slicing neatly past its security systems in under four minutes. And just like that credits began pouring out - but all in small, low-value chips. Carrying all of it would be impossible even for the three of them; there was a mountain, and it was still building. Iskaral just grabbed a couple handfuls for himself, tucking them all away as he nodded to the others, assuming they'd followed to watch his little demonstration.

"That is what I do best. It's come in handy for more than just pocket change. But if you're satisfied I'm not useless, we should proceed to our first indebted..."

Iskaral D'itarn began walking down the street, tapping a datapad with the information on their targets and muttering to himself.