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Terra Lanris

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Ithor was a first for her. She'd done a fair bit of traveling since leaving Corellia and was slowly but surely making her way through the more namely star systems, but she had to admit that Ithor actually had some really stinking impressive design.

The cities floated in the air far above the planet's surface and a glance over the side showed that there was an expansive jungle below that was presumably alive with all sorts of life. Of course, people weren't allowed down there willy-nilly but it was still impressive.

She pulled herself back from looking over the edge and kept heading down the bustling street. She stood out even more here than on most worlds because these cities had far less diversity than the megatropolises she was accustomed to frequenting.

She'd come here looking to recruit some pilots she'd heard operated in the area. A valuable set of new assets to her "growing company" that currently consisted of... just her. Had to start somewhere. She'd heard they'd set up shop in a local cantina, so that seemed like her ideal place to start.
 

Mallister Keynion

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Jungles were wild, people from everywhere said, while the jungles on Ithor were considered that much more sacred. It was only a man’s right to therefore break and enter said jungle to borrow a plant without ever actually returning it.

Mallister Keynion was one such man as he stood in the cantina debating his next move. He had a ship, had a crew, but had come to this establishment alone while his team was on a distant mission. All the same, it was a nice break to get away.

“Hear the one about the Sith breaking and entering a Jedi’s house?”
Mal asked the three Ithorians sitting at the bar trading jokes. They nodded. Dang. I love telling that one. Sipping beer, the captain had to think.

“Oh, I got one, I got one! So, an Ithorian walks into a bar and the bartender says…why the long face?” Mal slapped the counter, cracking up. Those three Ithorians stared at him like he had just stolen their drinks. “I…uh…bad joke, I admit, heard it from a…smuggler…gonna smuggle myself away now. Don’t get up.”

That’s enough frippery for the moment, Mr. Keynion. Taking his beer with him, Mal found an empty table, checked the time and decided to watch people as they moved to and fro and at least one person just opened the front door.

Mal was dressed in a brown trench coat, looking innocent enough, but the bartender and a few others had since learned that here sat a freighter captain and a skilled pilot.

He wasn’t famous, didn’t intend to be, but had been operating in the area for some time now. For now. Then it’s back to the stars and some other system, doing what naughty men do.


@Phoenix
 

Terra Lanris

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Terra moseyed into the bar and her eyes swept quickly around the place. It was mostly Ithorian with a few off-worlders mixed in. It would hopefully picking out the crew she was looking for more simple.

She spotted a man at one side of the bar who had the look of a spacer as well. Not shocking this near to the spaceport, but a lead nonetheless.

I'll have a speedball, she said to the bartender who promptly asked her for her ID. Yeah, yeah, she said, sliding it across the bar for him to see. It was still of no surprise that she got carded. Sometimes the horns helped, but not always.

She grabbed her drink and made her way over to Mr. Trench Coat. Are you Cartwright? she asked. She was looking for a human who pretty much matched his description. No one else around here seemed to match the description, but she was effectively walking up to the first human she saw. It could definitely just be the wrong person.

@Die Shize
 

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Mal looked up at the Tiefling, meeting her eyes for a moment. Tiefling. Too quaint a name for horns like theirs. “Cartwright?” He frowned, trying to figure out if this woman had just asked if he was a person or a dance move.

“Nope. Sorry. Here sits Mal. Don’t know any Cartwright or Cartwheel for that matter. I have yet to master that move...” He washed those musings away with a swig from his glass. Looking his guest up and down, he began to put two and two together. Let’s see if the parts fit.

“That said, you need cargo moved, a ship to ferry your person, I’m your captain for the job. Don’t much care what it is.”

Such speech was just standard protocol for a guy like him in the position he was. Whoever Cartwright was, well, they could cartwheel away and this Tiefling might have just found someone better. Better but not good. Well, I'm okay. Eh, I'm not too bad.

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Terra Lanris

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Hm, she grunted, though it was directed at herself and not at him. Sorry to bother you, then, she said, starting to walk away when he kept talking, even introducing himself and declaring that he, too, was a pilot.

Captain, you say? she said. Truth was, he would now be the first person she had pitched this business deal to and she was not very confident in it. Of course, she wasn't going to admit that out loud.

You fly freelance? she asked. I'm Terra, also in the chartering and import/export business, she said.

I was looking for Cartwright to recruit him into Terra Nova Charters and Shipping, but maybe his misfortune is your fortune, she said smoothly.

Cargo and passengers, too? she asked. May I? she asked, motioning to one of the chairs.

@Die Shize
 

Mallister Keynion

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Mal gestured for the lady to pull out the chair, deeming it only proper to reply to her once she was sat down. “Drink?” There was a server coming their way while his offer was tailored to display that her drink would be on his tab.

“Yep, I’m freelance. The Tranquility is my baby. Meanwhile my mother always taught me that someone’s misfortune is indeed someone else’s fortune.” He drank to Mom as his eyebrows frowned. "Or did Dad teach me that one?"

Dismissing wherever that train of thought would take him, Mal returned to the topic at hand. "So, Terra Nova, huh? Haven’t heard of them. Lots of businesses out there though. Lots of business too. Tell me yours.”

Terra had a listening ear and another to go with it and, if the job sounded good enough, she’d have two hands to go with those two ears. And two feet. Also my toes and fingers. Well, she gets it.


@Phoenix
 

Terra Lanris

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She took the offered seat with a smile, and the offer of a drink surprised her, but was welcome. I'll have another of these, she said to the server, giving him her now empty glass. Two livers meant she had an astounding ability to slam back alcohol and quickly at that, though she tempered herself going forward.

I appreciate that, she said. Even if this didn't work out as a business proposal, the free drink was a positive. Not a loss at least.

Your mother-father wasn't wrong about that, she agreed, tilting her head slightly to the side for a moment as if in agreement.

The Tranquility, she noted the name in her head. In a lot of ways, remembering the name of a Captain's ship was more important than remembering the actual pilot's name. At least that had been her experience.

Small and relatively new. Also flexible, she said. That was... well, all mostly true. It pretty much consisted of her right now, but all businesses had to start somewhere, and she had big plans.

People like you and I are effectively running our own businesses, right? We have to deal with Syndicate shake-downs, find jobs, negotiate contracts, etc, she said. She knew he would have experienced all of that because it came with the territory.

I figure that all of those things become easier if you're working as a group. Sourcing jobs nearby, negotiating protection, getting better contract prices are all easier and better if you've got a name and resources backing you up, right? she said.

Downside is that usually those things come with a lot more restrictions. But ground floor of a business means you don't have to deal with all that, she said. Boy, she hoped she was selling this.
 

Mallister Keynion

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Small, relatively new, also flexible. Mal wondered if the Tiefling was talking about herself or her business for a moment there. Sidestepping such silliness, he gave her his attention, drumming a finger on his beer glass.

Has a head on her shoulders, this one. Also flexible. At least the neck. Probably not the horns. He could only guess as to how many shades existed in her business compared to his own, what with Mallister Keynion being a humble smuggler at best and all, but he wouldn’t put it past many who led the lives that these two did.

“So, here’s my scoop, miss. You got a good sales pitch, don’t make a fuss about it, and got a good head on your shoulders.”

Mal would have to somehow move past head, neck, horns and all as he cleared his throat of some lager. “Thing is, I’ve been offered to group hug a few times before. People get tetchy, itchy for more, and someone ends up with the short stick.”

He took a long drink, as much for the long drink as to collect his thoughts, somewhat puzzled by where he was steering this ship. “Tell you what, before I sign into anything that might prove too untoward, how’s about we get to know each other better?”

Mal didn’t mean cozying up in that kind of way, all things considered. “We do a job together, import or export or what have you, and if it works out then we work toward something else. Sound like good enough particulars?”


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Terra Lanris

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She couldn't help but notice how he kept looking up at her horns as if they were simply stuck in his mind. Whether he intended his eyes to flick up there or not, she wasn't sure, but it was unmistakable.

As he went along, all she could think was that this sounded a whole lot like a "let her down easy" answer. In fact, by the time he got to the end, she was cautiously optimistic about his response.

Is it because I'm a Tiefling? she asked in such a deadpan way that it was not totally clear whether it was a joke or a serious question. Tiefling racism was real in the galaxy and with the way he was looking at her horns... you just never knew!? Of course, she didn't give the impression that she was terribly offended, and he had agreed to at least possibly work a deal with her.

Alright, deal, she said. After all, she already had a job lined up. It probably could have been accomplished by either one of them individually, but that didn't mean that she couldn't find a way to line up a larger contract. In fact, she had a pretty good inkling that they could get more cargo from the same employer.

I've got a Blackwell contract. Double the ships means we can take twice as much of their product, she said. And if we can move it more quickly, it means we can negotiate higher prices, she said.

@Die Shize
 

Mallister Keynion

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Mal couldn’t help himself, really. He sat there blinking, fluttering eyelids more like, taken aback by the lady’s concern. He hoped it would show as she continued speaking, for only after would he reply, gentleman-like and all.

“Sounds good. But, ahem, rest assured, you’re just a mighty fine sight to behold.”
He pursed his lips with a measured sigh. “Nothing untoward meant in that statement, rest assured.”

Assured resting aside, Mal moved on, hoping the Tiefling would move along with him, horns or no. They were as attractive as the rest of her, but not necessarily in a sexual way. Hmm, if I had horns, I’d be a sight to behold myself, no mistake.

“Blackwell, huh?” Huh. “Now there’s a business.” He rubbed thumb between fingers. “See, we’re a fraternity already. All right. Double the ships, double the cargo, double the payout. I like it.”

His glass just became empty. “I’ve got a ship, a crew, adequate schooling and an empty glass.” He tapped that on the tabletop. “So, where do we start?” His eyes in hers, ignoring the neck, head and horns.


@Phoenix
 

Terra Lanris

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A business indeed, she agreed. Though it was just a one-time contract for now, that meant that it was a foot in the door, and if you could just get a foot in the door, the entire galaxy was open to you.

Excellent! she smiled, draining back the remainder of her drink in a single swig and seeming to not even be a tiny bit woozy.

We're off to the cargo bays, then, she said, pushing herself up to her feet, tail flicking slightly though if there was some meaning to that, it wasn't clear.

She headed back out into the street, deciding this was going quite well and heading in the direction of Blackwell's export division.

So what's your story, then? she asked, deciding that getting to know her new partner would probably be good. Hopefully she hadn't just recruited some kind of nut.

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Mal walked those streets with thumbs dipped behind belt, even after some Bith brushed by his shoulder a little too comfortably. It was typical for a city, whether on the ground or in the air, so he brushed it off while grooming a story in his head.

“Oh, simple story for a simple spacer. Born on Terminus, Mom and Dad loved me, had a cat named Jojo, he died of a heart attack and that was my last pet.” He shrugged, hoping this lady didn’t think he was a nut.

“Joined the military so I could join those ships out in the ‘verse. Got one of my own to captain, a crew to keep it flying, and went freelance. Started flying free, you might say, which might sound all manner of cliche, but hey.”

Mal realized his dialogue about respecting his own independence might be a mite counterproductive to joining a group. “Flying free doesn’t have to mean flying solo, though, so here we are. How about you?”


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Terra Lanris

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She looked back, eyebrows raised as he talked. Some of it seemed like deflective humor - or maybe it all really was true - but the part about being in the military interested her. Of course there were many jobs flying in the military and most weren't "glamorous" but it sounded interesting nonetheless.

You were in the military? What world? How was it? she asked, more curious than she would have expected.

I was born on Corellia, grew up there a lot of my life. Ended up acquiring a ship and got out of there. Left it behind to start flying for myself. Chartered transports, shipping, freight. You know how it is, she said.

Plus some crime here and there, she thought to herself. Getting out of Corellia was something that most people knew was hard to do. Surviving on its streets was an ugly affair, and one she intentionally avoided giving details about.

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Mallister Keynion

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Corellia. Sometimes the ‘verse was telling Mallister Keynion that he should have been born on that world, given a shared affinity for starships in particular. It was one clearly shared by Terra.

Her story already sounded similar to his, certainly the part about leaving a ball behind to go play in the open field. As free as the stars… Even though they weren’t so free.

“Yep, that I do.” Shipping and freight were just two reasons why the two strangers were walking as one right now. Plus some crime here and there, he thought to himself.

A moment passed, Mal still thinking of Corellia, imagining how Terra’s life there shaped her into the person she was today. Who I’ll find more about sooner or later. Oh yep.

He remembered her question. “I was in the marines. Homeworld. Terminus. It was…” They paced along, the captain’s eyes looked from the ground to the cityfolk, the buildings to the sky that cradled them, but he saw only the dead and the dying, the ruins and the rubble, the smoke and the lasers. “...Educational.”

Mal was being deflective for sure now but wasn’t lying. “Some days it was playing football in the barracks. Other days were a little more vigorous. Might be my time in the military was like your time in Corellia.” He smiled at that. There was surely some truth to it. Surely some dead and dying on the streets as much as the battleground.


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Terra Lanris

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She could almost see what he was thinking of. Whatever had happened to him during his service in the marines, she could tell it was something he didn't want to go into details on. She could respect that and it seemed he recognized that they weren't so different in that way as well.

Well, that was a glowing recommendation for military life, she said with a chuckle. It didn't seem like something that would cause offense and might even lighten what was approaching a serious mood and topic. Either way "educational" wasn't a great compliment, per se.

Not so different, I guess, she added. She had managed to wrack up fewer bodies than others, but there was one or two in her past as well. The thought sent a chill up her spine even now.

That mean you know how to use that, then? she asked, nodding in the direction of the pistol on his hip. It wasn't very unusual in a galaxy full of rough ports and pirates that pilots like them carried blasters. It was just a way of life sometimes.

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“Hm? Oh, this guy?” Hmm, observant. The pistol wasn’t exactly invisible but wasn't exactly visible, holstered at his hip more or less beside the flap of his coat. Tempted as Mal was to pull out the Peacemaker and show it off, it was just as much a bad idea.

“I’d say I know how to handle it and it comes in handy. Cap'n like me has to have a piece like this as per my repertoire. Some bad folks out there. I’m sure you can relate.”
Bad folks indeed. At least I’m an honest one.

“Can you? Blaster of choice?” He gestured toward her own person. A Tiefling from Corellia who could relate more or less to Mal’s career choice surely knew how to handle herself. She had plenty of time to answer before he spoke again.

“Woah, hey, that what I think it is?” Of all sights, a Weequay stood in the street behind a food stand. “That beer prompted an appetite I elected to overlook. Spare a minute?”

With that, he would approach the stand, stand in a short line and ogle the selections. He was feeling a mite particular for them hotdogs.


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Terra Lanris

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She nodded along to what he said, certainly relating to it. The truth was that she actually wasn't the greatest with a blaster and may or may not have accidentally shot an ally before (not lethally!) but she was also working on getting better.

I like the 357, she said, referencing her own pistol that she carried. It gives a lot of flexibility in whatever situation you're in, she said.

As he spotted a food stand, she twisted up her mouth a little bit in a thoughtful face and then nodded. Yeah, I could go for some food, too, she said, heading over to the line as well.

She, too, was thinking of a hotdog without even realizing he was thinking the same.

Yeah, what can I get ya? the Weequay asked as they got toward the front. His voice was about a soothing as gravel and it actually sounded like he had smoked death sticks for 50 years already.

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Mallister Keynion

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That Weequay vendor sounded like what would happen if a 357 and a Peacemaker shot you in the throat at the same time.

“Let’s see…what do I want…” Bouncing a finger off his chin, Mal suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted a hotdog or a hotdog or a hotdog at all.

The menu wasn’t vast, rightfully so for a food stand, but included burgers and sandwiches and tacos. One of them was orange. What kind of an idiot eats an orange taco?

“Hey, buddy,” called a Weequay.

“Huh?” Mal queried.

“You’re holdin’ up the line. Whatcha gonna order?”

“Oh, uh, I’ll have whatever…she’s having.” Easiest way to choose? Have someone else choose for you.

That order delivered, Mal was gentlemanly enough to pay for it, insisting (while prepared to submit if Terra insisted more prominently), as well as grab some napkins.

Great thing about little food vendors like this one was that you could walk and talk and eat at the same time—more or less.

"Python's a pretty piece," Mal swallowed. "Good range. Guess I just prefer makin' peace with my piece."

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Terra Lanris

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Terra gave a nasty scowl toward the guy who was complaining. They hadn't even been up that long, but fortunately she'd already made her decision.

Ronto morning wrap, she said, glancing over to make sure he thought that was edible. She started pulling out her wallet but he grabbed his first. She tried to decline once but he insisted so she shrugged and thanked him.

A few moments later their food came out. A grilled ronto sausage, shredded cheese, egg, and a slightly spicy sauce all in a soft bread. She bit into it excitedly and let out a savory Mmm.

She looked over at him, thoroughly unamused at what he said and shook her head. That was one of the absolute cheesiest puns I've ever heard, she said, not quite believing what he had just said.

You ever work for Blackwell before? Big companies always make me feel sketchy, she said. But small customers always made her feel sketchy too... just for different reasons. Like I've heard horror stories about working for Czerka before, she said.

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Mallister Keynion

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Mal blinked back at Terra’s unamused look. That was the correct reaction but he wasn’t sure if she had actually taken offense to his silly comment, a notion that might be just as out of place as the comment itself. Some folks did as sometimes Mal just said silly things.

Moving onto big companies as they moved on to wherever they were going, he nodded in full understanding. “I don’t tend to make it a habit, nope, our job being an exception to my rule. Just less fuss when your employer isn’t so big.” And less visibility when your job is not quite so legal.

“Horror stories, huh?”
He hoped they weren’t gory on account of eating. “I’ll bite. What have you heard?”


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