The Void : Level 13 [Everyone is Welcome!]

[Outlander]

[beebox3='80%']Note: This is a freeform thread open to anyone willing to play. Please do not engage in conflict, as security forces will apprehend you if you do. Besides that, feel free to move about the Level and talk to others.[/beebox3]

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Ah, Level 13. The smells of various creatures and amenities filled the corridors of the hollowed out stone with a variably bouquet of scents. It was hard to believe less than 1000 civilians lived in the area; although those people came from very different walks of life. The nearby port; the only one large enough to facilitate trade on the asteroid, meant that they had a good reason to live here as opposed to the other neutral areas, or even the Accord digs.

Out from the port, a large cavern with a multitude of docking ports where ships connected and exchanged their wares, was the main access-way. A huge cavern roughly straight across the level. This was what most people used to move about, although several, sometimes concealed, access tunnels would serve in a pinch if necessary.

Down to the right, you had an assortment of small eateries and trading areas. The most prominent where Alpha's Emporium and the Five Star Diner. Alpha's Emporium, run by the wayward twi'lek Alpha, served a number of clientele ranging from street rats to exotic collectors. This is likely due to his wide selection of items acquired from passing traders or from his time traveling the stars., and his Emporium has served as a bartering hub on numerous occasions. In contrast, the Five Star Diner is an establishment set in it's ways. You can order two things: The Hangover Special, or the Smuggler's Dinner. Rumor has it the Diner used to be part of a franchise that went bust several years prior, with this being the last venue.

Down to the left, you'll find several important buildings. Primarily, The Accord Checkpoint, and the Fuel Processing Station. The Accord Checkpoint is a necessity for most frequent traders as all manifests must be checked here for contraband. The Void is unique in that many smuggled goods are allowed here; with the notable exception of the more volatile spices and disruptor weapons, as well as other goods deemed intentionally harmful towards fellow beings. Checking these items will give captains clearance to the rest of the Void. The Fuel Processing Station is something of a necessity. Fuel is pumped from tanker ships hired by the Accord and redirected throughout the asteroid to storage tanks. The Processing Station is where the fuel is divided and pumped through the station. It is consistently guarded by Accord Soldiers.

There is no lack of activity on Level 13, if you know where to look. All visitors; please enjoy yourselves.​

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[Mary Bothans]

Level 13, yet again. This time just for the night. Hopefully, just for the night - well, maybe two.
Evelyn was docked here for refueling and minor maintenance to her ship. Now, she was wandering aimlessly down the hallways reflecting on the bounty that just slipped out of her grasp. Weeks worth of work and surveillance only to have it all evaporate in minutes as the target jumped to hyperspace. It's hard not to be disappointed. She'll be back in the drawing room tomorrow. Good, solid work was becoming hard to find these days. But tonight was to be a night off. She enjoyed one the bars here, couldn't quite remember the name, but the bartenders mixed as good of a Corellian Twister as anyone else.

The bar was more crowded than she would have liked. Lots of traffic tonight. Evelyn had to shoulder past a half dozen patrons just to reach the bartender. She was glad to be dressed casually and not lugging armor on her shoulders. She wore a simple grey top and black pants tucked into boots. A darker grey cloak clasped at her neck and mostly disguised her form, as well as the small blaster pistol at her hip.

Finally reaching the bar, Evelyn took a seat and ordered her first drink. After giving a quick survey of her surroundings she looked down rather mindlessly at her datapad, scanning the holonet for any interesting news. This would be a quiet night off.

 

[Outlander]

"...No!" Someone shouted from down the bar. "I had 200 credits down on Guartro!"

From the ceiling, holographic podracers zoomed around a course. From the looks of it, the race had just ended with a happy looking Duros taking a victory lap.

"Ha! Looks like you should have taken my advice. Bruno was a good bet." Another voice sounded, slamming an empty mug on the counter. The bartender, a scraggly looking zabrak in a work tuxedo, quickly scooped it up and deposited back, filled with a strange brown liquid. "Better luck next time, Nareel."

The voices ceased for a moment, the sounds of the bar once again returning to normality. Until a Selkath flew off his bar stool, propelled by an angry looking Cathar. The two sprawled out onto the floor as patrons encircled them, with goads and bets beginning all around.

 

[Mary Bothans]

The fight broke out right behind her. She tried her best to ignore it at first, but as the crowds grew so did the clamor. The fighters tumbled over each other and fell hard into Evelyn's back, pushing her off the bar stool.

"Okay, okay now. This is a little much." But there was little she could do to stop them. The crowd was loving it. Evelyn popped up from her seat and sat on the bar itself, crossing her legs and resting her feet on the stool. She grabbed her drink and watch the fight continue on.

 

[Outlander]

The brawl spilled out last the circle, the crowd becoming actively engaged. Patrons duked it out, launching each other into tables, chairs, and the bar. The Bartender tried to calm the crowd down, but his frenzied shouts only melded in with the sounds of the fight.

It didn't take long for two soldiers of the Accord, dressed in full armor with their weapons, to dash in. One knocked away an angry patron with the butt if his gun while the other raised his blaster in the air and fired a bolt into the rock ceiling. Stray dust fell around him as the crowd grew silent.

"Who started this?"

 

[Mary Bothans]

Evelyn raised her eyes to the soldiers. While sipping her drink, still propped up on the bar, she silently pointed out the Cathar and Selkath.

"But really," she said setting down her drink, "you could just take the whole lot of them."

 

[Outlander]

One of the soldiers picked out the two, both still locked on the floor, and dragged them towards the door. The other looked over to Evelyn and shrugged. "We'd rather not lockup all of Level 13 on any given night." He raised up his weapon and ushered his counterpart out the door with the two troublemakers in tow.

 

[Mary Bothans]

"Wait," Evelyn called after the soldiers, although not sure why. "What going to happen to them? They're just being drunk and stupid, you know?"

 

[Vosrik]

Davian Price dropped off the final canister of fuel from the Celeritate and wiped his brow. Despite loving his job, the people he got to meet, and the money, he still really disliked manual labour. It was times like this Davian wished his partner Magnus was here to help. Now he could lift, if anyone could. Those cybernetics were quite handy, even though Davian certainly wouldn't want them himself. Alas, he had sent Magnus off to work in his field of expertise on behalf of PriceCorp.

Davian stretched, cracking his back in the process and sighing in content. He ambled up the ramp and paused at the top, pushing a button that caused his ship to let out a hiss as the hydraulics on the cargo bay began to work. The now empty bay slowly made its way back into place on the ship as Davian fished his jacket and bow tie from a compartment. He collapsed onto a chair briefly, whipping out a sleek datapad which flashed numbers and other seemingly random information. Davian quickly sent confirmation to his client that the fuel had been delivered. Another job done for the day.

He looked up at himself in the mirror, straightening his bow tie and buttoning up his trademark burgundy jacket. Tonight, he was going to hopefully find a good place to relax and have a quick drink before he went back to Coruscant the next day. He made his way toward the closest bar he could find, Deep Space 8 Pub. Davian shook his head and walked inside. The names of these places got weirder and weirder everywhere he went. As he entered, he moved aside as two very drunk patrons were dragged out by security. "Barfights everywhere too, it seems," Davian mused as he landed on a chair and ordered his favourite drink, Ardees.

 

[Outlander]

The soldiers didn't respond, already gone down the hallway back towards the level's lift. The bartender walked up, beginning to replace glasses and mugs. "Don't worry." He commented, refilling a new mug of ale. "They're just holding them for the night. The soldiers may be rough, but they're pretty good to us."

 

[Mary Bothans]

"Yeah, this place gets a little rowdy in the nights, don't it?" Evelyn said to the bartender, slipping off the bar counter and back into the bar stool. Her drink was nearly empty. She removed her cloak and folded it up into her lap. Just then Davian was taking a seat next to her. They made eye contact and she quickly looked away. She downed the last remaining drop in her glass, and pushed the glass away.

 

[Vosrik]

Davian grabbed his drink and took a long quaff of the Ardees. He smiled as the sensation tingled throughout his body, finally allowing him to relax. Davian exhaled and readjusted himself, sitting more comfortably in his chair and watching the myriad of holoprojected ads and races.

(ooc: Sorry guys, it's late and I gotta pack it in for the night. Feel free to continue without me though!)

 

[Melomex]

8D3 sat at one of the tables, almost jealous of the surrounding occupants enjoying the drinks. It turned its robotic head to the pod-racing on, attempting to master the smooth movement humans do. How could these meat bags be interested in such a sport? 8D3 adjusted its robes covering its metallic body, there was a huge prejudice towards droids in these parts, if not all parts. Luckily no one in the bar has noticed it yet. It moved its gloved hand around, trying to replicate the movement the humans did. Even though 8D3 had a slight hate towards humans, it still intrigued by them, they were interesting.

 

[Artemis Rogue]

"No, I told you the type-6 gyro-stabilizer!"

"Oh, sue me, they all look the same.

"You want this junction working, yeah? Stop complaining and lets get it done, then."

It was a fairly typical day. The Void housed a lot of personalities. Strong personalities. And when you had a lot of 'strong' personalities all rubbing against each other, sparks flying was sometimes the least that could happen. But for all its faults, the old hollowed out asteroid was as much a haven as a home. Plenty of diversity, plenty of life, with people coming from all its walks.

The only downside was the maintenance. The Void was basically a city planted in a dug-out asteroid by miners and space slugs. Making repairs and adjustments to the machinery and mechanical systems were a constant. The inertial dampeners often ran in sequence with the artificial gravitational fields. Normally, that was fine, but most of those systems were built for ships. After all, there was a reason most people didn't opt to make their homes inside of asteroids. But, at the end of the day, it was still home. Even a space-born like Artemis couldn't help but appreciate it.

"Okay, that should do it. Hit the generator, try it out -- see how it works."

Artemis was a pilot. That was her calling, ever since she was a little girl. But growing up with her father, she was also a capable mechanic and engineer. She had to be, that was how they made their living growing up. And to her credit, Artemis was actually good at it. But that being said, she more often than not begrudgingly handled the mechanical jobs.

"Alright, juice is... on."

Artemis knelt to be eye level with the junction she was working on, carefully listening as much as she was observing the cogs and wheels, the circuitry stabilizers and power relays. A coarse, but consistent hum reverberated out. The parts were rough, to say the least, but they were working.

"Nice... nice, looks good," she began, giving a thumbs up to the building owner, "And at that, we're don---!"

In an instant, two ionic resistors overloaded, shorting out the resonance stabilizers in the junction. Sparks and a puff of smoke burst out of the panel Artemis was working on, but what came next was even worse. With the resonance stabilizers no longer keeping the vibratory excess within tolerance perimeters, a lubricant conduit ruptured and burst, spraying Artemis with crude and greasy oil.

"TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!!

The entire junction had only just been given power, which boded extremely well for Artemis, as the oily substance wasn't hot or searing, but all the same, it doused her in only seconds with grime-ridden gunk.

"DAMN IT, TURN IT OFF!!!

Level 13... it was enough to make one superstitious. Artemis dragged herself into first bar she happened upon. She didn't know the name and she didn't care -- she just needed a break. Although she cleaned the vast majority of the grease off, anyone could easily tell she'd just had a battle with an oil filter... and lost. Artemis didn't make eye contact walking it, moving through the crowds or upon arriving at the bar stood. She just arrived, sat and dropped her head on the counter.

"Just... something," Artemis said, gesturing her hand in the direction of the bartender, "Something strong... and for kessin's sake, not dark colored."

 

[Pernicious]

Ailill walked into one of the many dimly lit pubs that had made a home on the thirteenth level. Neon lights plagued nearly every inch of wall space, causing him to wonder if this was a wise choice. UV light was rather rough on the young man's body, a result of several ailments that would afflicted him for the rest of his life. Kriff it, he thought. This was what he wore sunblock for. He promised himself that he'd get out a little more often when he could, and damn it he was going to follow through while the Startours shuttle was in maintenance.

He received a few glances, possibly even a stare or two, as various human patrons saw him slide the helmet off of his head. He ran his hand through the red mop that is his hair. Ailill was used to the looks he got. Thankfully, most adults don't care to gawk at a case of vitiligo. With so much variety in the galaxy, a man with a little less pigment than the rest of his brethren wasn't very striking. Ailill took notice of a barmaid cleaning up some broken pieces of glass with a towel and hand-broom. A patron picked up a table. Glad I missed that fight, he mumbled to himself.

Although Ailill doubted the bartender would have any problem serving him what he asked for, he knew he was underage by Onderonian standards. He thought of his mother and how unapproving she was of alcohol driven adventures. The young man sat down on a bar stool with his legs tucked under. The bartender took notice of the new customer and listened for his order, but moved closer when he didn't hear anything. Ailill prayed he wouldn't be made fun of for the soft drink he was about to order.

"I'm not really feeling like anything strong this evening. I'll just have a Quafe on ice," Ailill said.

 

[Vosrik]

Davian turned and smiled as the newcomer, a brown-haired girl who didn't look too clean, face planted the counter and mumbled her request to the bartender. "Well hello there, had a rough day? You look like you fell into a tar pit and rolled around in it." He took another sip of his drink, drumming his fingers on the counter.
Several more people had entered the bar in the last couple of minutes. Hearing another customer request for a Quafe, Davian made a mental note to try the drink later, as he'd heard of it but never tried it before.

@Artemis Rouge

 

[Artemis Rogue]

At first, Artemis didn't even summon the effort to speak. Someone had come up to her... or maybe he was sitting there when she'd arrived -- she really didn't notice. In truth, she'd have figured anyone's voice she heard was someone talking to someone else. Or at least, she'd hoped so. But then, he -- whoever he was -- had to go and make that last... remark.

Artemis left her head down, forehead to the counter. She really didn't feel like lifting it back up. But slowly, she tilted her head to face the person talking to her, giving off a scowl that could kill, if looks could do such. For several seconds, she just glared at the man. She had no idea who he was, but could tell he was defiantly not a member of the Accord. Not with the way he was dressed, like he just came from some grand theater for rich people.

"Figure that out on your own, did you? You must be from the Core."

Artemis sighed again, tilting her head back to facing the counter. She didn't actually mean to be sarcastic or sharp-tongued, she was just irritated. The man there, whoever he was, just happened to be in her line of sight at the time she decided to vent a little bit.

"Hey, bar... guy", she said again, not even finding the right word 'bartender' to get his attention.

 

[Vosrik]

As Artemis gave him the death stare, Davian continued to smile back at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Your deduction is indeed correct. I do come from...well, near the Core. I'm out here on business with the Accord. If I may make some other, less cynical, observations, I'd say you're a mechanic who's had a disappointing and long day after working on a ship engine."
As the bartender came to Artemis' second call, Davian looked up, lifted a finger and said, "This round's on me, barkeep." Turning back to his acquaintance, he continued, "Pardon me for my initial comment. I thought a bit of humour might do you some good. The name's Davian, Davian Price." He placed his Jawa Juice back down on the counter and reached out cordially with his hand.

 

[Outlander]

"One Quafe on ice." The bartender said, quickly preparing the drink. It was an alocohaulic beverage, but one with surprisingly little in the way of actual alcohol. Instead, it gave the drinker a surprising kick in the pants; keeping some species up for more than 5+ hours after they should have dropped from exhaustion. He finished the beverage, sprinkling a few local spices on the top and passing it back across the bar. "Here you go."

@Pernicious

 

[Pernicious]

Ailill watched as the bartender cracked open the can of Quafe and prepared the drink. A bit of a glazed look came over him as he watched the beverage poured over ice. The Startours passenger had forgotten how tired he was. Sleep was near impossible in the rickety shuttle. He didn't sleep well anyways. The glaze ended when he noticed something he hadn't expected. The bartender had sprinkled a little bit of what he presumed to be spices onto the drink.

"Ooh fancy," Ailill spoke, mostly to himself, as his order was handed over. He looked up with a small smile and thanked the bartender. Before taking a sip, he set down enough credits to pay for the drink on the counter.

A light stinging sensation washed over Ailill's face. He was developing a sunburn. Not even high-end sunblock could protect his skin from UV rays for very long. It wouldn't be long at all before his skin was cracking, then blistering into a bloody mess. He took a solid gulp of his drink before sliding his helmet back on. Besides being in complete and utter darkness, that helmet was the only thing preventing the skin on his head from melting off. UV light is a bitch to those with solar urticaria. Ailill mentally took note of how long he lasted in the neon lights and thought about his drink. The spices really added depth to the Czerka-brewed beverage. He decided to keep an eye out for such spices in the future.

The bar stool creaked as it swiveled around to face the rest of the bar. A few seats down to Ailill's left a well dressed man spoke to a spacer-looking woman. She didn't seem all that amused by the gentleman's, if you wanted to call him that, choice in clothing. He looked like he belonged in Alpha's Emporium, not Deep Space 8. He listened with a raised eyebrow while turned to the rest of the bar, expression hidden by his protective headwear.

Losing interest as the sounds of the pub interfered with his listening in, Ailill people watched for several minutes. He left after leaving a small tip for the bartender.