Ask Nar Shaddaa The Frog and the Prince of Darkness

[Preef Callo]

Preef pushed his glass towards the fat Zabrak tending the bar, "fill it up," and the Zabrak, though begrudgingly, did as told. "When you plan on paying your tab, Preef-" he began in his usual annoyed tone of voice. Preef had been at the 'Moist Mirakula' for three nights in a row and hadn't spend a single credit chip. Being a member of the Crimson Dawn helped in that regard, being a known quick-draw artist in these parts of the woods helped some more. There was, however, a limit to how far they'd stretch the liberties of a short rodian with a limited intellectual capacity. Said rodian, ofcourse, wasn't really inclined to pay and waved the Zabrak's question off. "Haven't seen Vanessa in a while, she around?"

The Zabrak instantly grew red with anger, "No," he barked, "not since you killed her weequay boyfriend." Which, to be fair, was something Preef may or may not have forgotten. "Oh right," the rodian looked at his glass. It had been a while ago when he and V3PO pursued Atem to the stripper's apartment and he had forgotten all about it. Since then he'd been to Kessel, Coruscant, Taris and a deep space prison ship and all of those occasions were a little more noteworthy. "Didn't kill him, though-" Preef finally replied before putting the glass with Corellian Whiskey to his lips and letting the liquid glide down throat. "-just got paid to deliver him to Metalorn."

He hadn't spend this much time on Nar Shaddaa since buying his ranch on Takodana and if it hadn't been for the meeting tonight he probably would've left two days ago after he got paid for the prison break job. Thing was, whoever had reached out to him had known to flatter the rodian to get a meeting. Which was definitely something new to Preef, to be lauded with compliments, and it had significantly boosted his ego to such a degree that he didn't think he owed any credits to the bartender anymore.

He was Preef "Kriffing" Callo. Member of the Crimson Dawn. Gungslinger and quick-draw artist.


@vamp

 

[Veles]

A light rain had fallen over the sector, acidic enough to persuade any pedestrian to seek cover. A hooded figure walked alone, steps light but relaxed. Both hands were in the pockets of his tight-fitting cloak, his right hand wrapped around the hilt of his unignited lightsaber, thumb on the ignition. He wasn't paranoid, but he hadn't travelled on Nar Shaddaa much, and the accounts he'd heard were less than savory. It never hurt to be careful.

If not for the massive neon sign outside the cantina, he would have likely missed it, the door to the establishment blending in with the rest of the drab gray building it had been built into. As he stepped in, warmth washed over him, and a thousand new smells assaulted his nostrils. There was a single Rodian in the bar, but Cinere would have recognized him anyway.

It hadn't been hard to score a meeting with the xeno, not that he had expected much resistance. A few empty but overdone compliments, an innuendo or two, and a promise to pay the tab is usually enough to get on the good side of any low-life criminal—the mere prospect of interacting with the big boss for whatever reason was a huge plus.

The Sith approached the bar and sat down next to Preef Callo, shaking his cloak to get the droplets off, earning a grumble from the bartender as the acid burned off a thin layer of flooring below.

"Daydrinking already?" he asked quietly.

@Ecclessey

 

[Preef Callo]

Preef looked to the side and saw a tall, blue-eyed human child had taken the stool next to him. It was saying something condescending, probably because he wasn't allowed to drink alcohol yet, and Preef made sure to look indifferent when he slowly turned towards him. "You're clearly an offworlder-" he shook his head. Usually people that came to Shaddaa for their kicks, watching the general misery of those stuck on a moon owned and controlled by the Hutts, who were objectively the worst scum in the galaxy, weren't this obvious in pointing it out. "-now beat it. I'm waiting for someone."

Preef turned further on his barstool and gestured for the kid to sit -literally- everywhere else in the Moist Mirakula, since it was empty. "First show is at six. The Zabrak will sell you, eh-" he motioned for the Zabrak to assist, "Lima juice and a Binka fruit shake. They usually come with-" but Preef interrupted him with a single hand clap for the point was made. Whatever cocktail they had, but sin alcohol.



@vamp

 

[Veles]

"Oh sorry," he corrected, raising an eyebrow. "Is daydrinking a Shaddaa thing? Does it have something to do with the long days?" Preef seemed to be a gruff sort of guy, and his rudeness toward strangers amused Cin. Would he have reacted the same way if he knew that he was the one he was waiting for?

"Ironic—I'm waiting for someone, too." He gesticulated with his hands. "Green skinned Rodian, eyes about this big. Face like a housefly. Responds to Preef Callo." The Sith grinned from ear to ear, then turned to the bartender. "Cool! I'll have a Fuzzy Tauntaun." He'd told himself he won't be drinking today, but he had a point to prove. "Need an ID?" His hand reached up from behind the bar, holding a small holographic card. He wasn't sure what the age of majority was on Nar Shaddaa, but he doubted there even was one.

@Ecclessey

 

[Preef Callo]

Preef and the bartender looked at each other for a moment, seeming to share the punchline to a joke and then both started laughing out loud. "He actually showed you his papers!?" the rodian laughed, tears welling up from joy and the bartender nodded as he held his belly to keep it from going up and down too much, "Cinere Autem-" the Zabrak saluted the teenager, "-mister with the holographic Coruscanti I.D."

No one int the Outer Rim actually had identification papers, but it sure was an easy way to spot a Core worlder if you were looking for targets to rob blind in an alley after spiking their Fuzzy Tauntaun with Glitterryll. The laughing quickly died down as Preef now knew that this was his contact and if his contact hadn't been lying he was blessed with the Force, or at least he was allied with that wicked Eternal character that had been murdering Sector Rangers all across the Galactic Core.

"Put his drink on my tab," the rodian told the Zabrak, who was of a mind to protest this seeing the rodian's poor tab-settling record, but decided after reminding himself that Preef was a member of the Crimson Dawn reconsidered and put the Fuzzy Tauntaun in front of the human without demanding a single credit chip.

Preef looked at the human, who was six years his junior and judging by how fast he produced an I.D. had a sheltered upbringing unlike his own. That didn't speak much to Preef's confidence that the kid could produce the things he promised, but then the rodian did have very little experience with so-called Force users. "So, you want to meet the boss?"


@vamp