Ask Trouble in Every Port

[Kel Dryden]

Space port of Mon Gazza,
a few days after escape from Nar Shaddaa

"A pleasure doing business with you," Kel nodded to the green male Twi'lek, turned around, and walked off. However, the scoundrel's bland tone indicated an attitude quite different to what he said. The so-called "deal" offered by the Twi'lek was bordering on robbery. Yet Kel still took it, because he had to. With his old Hutt boss dead, and with the Black Swift suddenly becoming his own ship, the young pilot only had himself to rely on for credits. Furthermore, Kel couldn't show up on Naboo with a freighter full of spice. Selling it off—even at such a ridiculous price—was the best option. As the dock workers offloaded the last crate off the ship, Kel exhaled. Finally, no more incriminating evidence lying around the ship.

In addition to the now-solved spice problem, there was also the issue of getting medical attention. Both Kel and his alleged Jedi passenger had been through a shootout on Nar Shaddaa and taken some hits. Healing stims got Kel and "Misty" (whose real name was still a "mystery") through the day, but could only do so much. Mon Gazza wouldn't have been Kel's first choice for a pit-stop; his last visit had been quite... turbulent. However, that was the only port within a few parsecs where Kel could refuel the ship, find a doctor, and—most importantly—sell off the spice quickly and safely. To avoid drawing unwanted attention, the scoundrel had chosen to wear different clothes: the dark grey trench coat concealed his black flight suit. Hopefully, none of the people he had crossed would recognize his face. And if they did, Kel had his new two-barreled blaster pistol holstered on the hip, under the coat.

Either way, with the Twi'lek and his men gone, Kel had some free time while the Swift was being refueled. Enough time to see a doctor... or find some sort of entertainment at the nearest cantina. The smuggler had taken some hits during the firefight on Nar Shaddaa (not as many as his "Jedi" companion though), so he probably needed the former. However, his first choice would definitely be the latter...

Spoiler: OOC and tags

@Bran, @Killa Ree

 

[Trinity]

The days following the departure from Nar Shaddaa were much harder than Trinity had anticipated. While she had managed to get a fair amount of sleep the night of the ordeal, the following nights were not as kind to her. The sharp burning sensation that accompanied each of her blaster wounds had turned to a deep throbbing pain that sat right beneath the skin and kept her awake. Despite her meditations and application of healing stims, the wounds were not healing as fast as she had hoped. She had a mission to see through and in her current condition, failure was all too likely.

Drifting like a rogue shadow among the crowds that inhabited the bustling streets of Mon Gazza, the young assassin trailed her companion, the smuggler Kel Dryden. Trin was clad in a black, embroidered smuggler's trench coat that she managed to snag from a dark corner of the ship's wardrobe. Coincidentally the garment fit her surprisingly well. Perhaps the garb of one of the ship's previous captains, she pondered, or captures. Since their first encounter in the docking bay and on the ship where Trin made sure to convey her requirement of privacy, Dryden and her had since barely interacted. Despite this however, she made sure to observe the man and how he operated. The first thing she noticed was his innate street smarts. He seemed to understand the workings of the underworld thoroughly and how and when to prepare for the inevitable confrontations that happen on the daily in these places. This keen intuition was in a way admirable but at the same time, Trinity was skeptical about it. It was as if he was too aware, or well... More so than any one person should be. Nevertheless she chalked it up to paranoia of some sort and put the thoughts aside.

Before disembarking from the Black Swift, Kel said something about going to see some spice lord or other to dump his stock while he was ahead. She cared little for his business nor his well-being but she still needed a pilot so it was in her best interest to make sure the man returned alive. He also spoke about finding a doctor to which she agreed. Her skin was pale and dark bags had formed under her eyes from lack of rest. Trin felt weakened and perhaps a doctor could fast track her recovery. In the outset she thought to wait for the smuggler to conduct his business and then the two would go in search of the doctor together however the incessant negotiations that took place would be too much for her patience to withstand. Spice... Credits... It all felt so inconsequential to Trinity. It is as if they are all rats, squabbling over their own filth, clinging so tightly to it that they are unable to comprehend the bigger picture, she ruminated. In her boredom she decided to take the prerogative and find the doctor alone. With less graceful, more rigid steps she navigated her way through the city streets. Her body detested each movement and through gritted teeth she would ask the locals as to the whereabouts of the nearest medical professional.

@Killa Ree @Catbert

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

-Theme-​

Two pings on her datapad. Two new patients.

She was laid on her cot, curled up tightly. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes were closed. She could pretend they didn't exist. That the messages were just part of the ship's endless small sounds, and that beyond was the vacuum of planets, of space, of so many empty lives lived, so many bodies hurt and crying out for some attention, so much blood she still had to clean out of her hands--

Her eyes opened.

A soft exhale drew past her lips.

She slowly sat upright, muttering about the hour. Squinting, she typed up the affirmative to invite them to her ship, and flopped back, groaning in annoyance.

Couldn't she have a sleepless night alone for once?

@Catbert @Bran

 

[Kel Dryden]

Spice & Dice Den

"Jackpot!" Kel smirked as the last card from his hand landed on the table, bringing the score to 20. Pure Pazaaak. A perfect time to call it quits and leave with the credits. Especially since a few patrons were already casting sideways glances at the new arrival. "How about letting me retrieve my losses, human?" the Rodian spacer sounded like he was giving an order, and not asking for a favor. Time to bugger off, Dryden.

"Sorry," Kel pointed at the comlink and stood up, grabbing the hard- and honest-won credits. "Can't keep the passengers waiting." A lie, of course. Misty had decided to see the doctor earlier and disappeared while Kel was negotiating with that karking Twi'lek tight-wad. In fact, if Kel wanted to arrive after Misty's examination, he'd better head out now. That's why the scoundrel just spread his arms in an apologetic "sorry-but-I-have-circumstances" shrug.

The Rodian stood up as well: "Unfortunate. You offend me, stranger. But it's your choice..." Then, out of nowhere, the alien added a question: "Is that your IFST-21 over there?" Kel tilted his head; his gut told him there was more to that question than met the ear. Still, he had to answer something: "Yeah, the Black Swift." Upon hearing that, the Rodian circled around the table: "I see. There's a hefty bounty to retrieve a stolen IFST-21. Yours looks too freshly-painted for it to be a coincidence. Perhaps, if you don't want to play, we should go pay the ship owner a visit instead?"

Kel scoffed. That attempt of extortion was so blunt and stupid; anything reply but a clear "E chu ta, lowlife sleemo!" would mean showing weakness and turning tail. The pilot's fist clenched as he saw a couple of more people approaching from the counter. Looks like Misty and the doctor would have more than enough time for medical examination after all...

Spoiler: OOC and tags

@Bran, @Killa Ree