Ask Whoah, Black Betty

[Zhaan Duran]

Terminus, Black Betty Spaceport
2046 local time

Terminus, one of the most important trade planets in the middle of thrice-damned nowhere. Pirates, smugglers, sneaky little corporations and everything else. All had some kind of presence in a city world built on a base of goods and services drawn from places most in the galaxy hadn't even heard of. It was the gateway to rarities unseen, a rich planet because of its location rather than despite it. And lately, people kept trying to fuck with it.

Sith, Mandalorians, nameless nobodies in gunships. As of late, the planet's out-of-the-way economy was under threat. Although no invasion had really gone anywhere, the trouble they caused sent things into a frenzy. Among other things, this meant some local groups were packing up to hoard their goods or sell them en-masse. But, because this was Terminus, that gave others an opportunity for their own profits.

Especially if they tended to blend right into the masses. So there Duran was, relaxed and slow-burning through a cigar across the road from the Black Betty spaceport. In fact, he was at a cigar bar near a semi-popular whiskey joint known for its rare and unusual bottles. Shame not to visit while he was in-system, but that'd have to wait. For now, he was watching for the arrival of two things: A particular ship headed to Docking Bay C3, and his partner for the job ahead.

Casing a joint wasn't the most thrilling step, but with any luck, there'd be something to talk about besides the weather. Which, for the record, was shit. Lukewarm drizzles of polluted rain, resembling getting peppered with used bathwater from on high, did nothing to boost the grey ambiance of Terminus' utilitarian architecture. At least he wouldn't be short cigars for the wait.

@Sreeya

 

[Edin Frost]

Edin was finding it difficult to juggle his life as Basilisk and just plain Edin. The latter was a small time crook, the former was becoming famous. He wasn’t a man that enjoyed a lot of attention on himself, and seeing his alias show up in tabloids certainly gave him mild anxiety he would never admit.

The Firrerreo was dressed in a leather jacket, shirt and jeans, making his way through the drizzle that felt suspiciously like being peed on. Though he had a sensitive nose, being in metropolitan areas his entire life meant he was desensitized to the rancid and disgusting smells of pollution and poorly maintained drains and roads. Edin was on a speeder bike he rented, slowly cruising through the dense roads to avoid colliding into anyone.

Edin parked the bike, glancing up to take in sight of the rendezvous point. Cigar bar? Huh, the man was classy at least. The Firrerreo made his way inside, running his hand through his damp hair. He spotted the Chiss at once - there weren’t too many of those wandering about the galaxy.

“Sorry I’m late,” He said with a sheepish grin. The smell of cigars hit his sensitive nose, but he actually enjoyed it. A lot of it reminded him of home from the many crime circles he ran in. He took a seat across from the man, glancing over at the bottle selections.

“Think we have time for me to grab a drink or does me showing up mean business?” He smiled at the man.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Zhaan Duran]

Crimson eyes turned to look as the leather-clad young man walked in from the street. Duran tipped the cigar he held in greeting as Edin apologized. "Didn't miss much," the Chiss said in accented basic, straightening in his seat and reaching over to remove his rain-slicked hat from the tabletop so Edin had more room to himself. "Nothing to catch but the rain."

"I'm Zhaan." His hand crossed the table to offer a quick but firm handshake paired with an easy half-grin, red eyes meeting the Firrerreo's focused blues. He jerked his head slightly toward the bottles with an easy grin. "Carry on, mate. Was just waiting on you first, myself." Duran leaned forward a little, adjusting how he sat to be more comfortable. "Mixing in a little pleasure's the way to go," he added and clamped his cigar between his teeth. "Though I'd avoid anything 'First Order Vintage'." He'd heard some horror stories.

The Chiss corsair personally went for a glass of bourbon that carried the scent of oak and woodsmoke, the sort of thing one paired with a cigar. He seemed relaxed and at ease, in no hurry nor truly lazy. That said, it wasn't a coincidence his chair happened to face a window with the best spaceport view. "You much for cigars yourself?" Zhaan asked as idle conversation, plucking his own from his teeth and pointing it toward another table in a surreptitious guise of showing it off.

A table where a Twi'lek had a book in hand, facing the spaceport. They never seemed to turn the page, instead almost wholly staring at the spaceport itself.

@Sreeya

 

[Edin Frost]

“Edin,” Edin shook the man’s hand, thankful the guy didn’t have a stick up his ass. Then again, anyone that chilled at a whiskey and cigar joint before a job was probably pretty all right. The Firrerreo chuckled quietly at the mention of First Order Vintage. He, too, had heard horror stories around it especially when crime lords attempted to be fancy and failed miserably.

The Firrerreo didn’t miss the subtle hint towards the other table. He turned as if to examine the bottles, spotting the twi’lek in question before turning back. For his drink he chose a rye that had a fiery taste to it. He could handle a bit more of a burn than most species, and he took every opportunity to enjoy that.

“Seen that face before,” Edin said quietly, referring to the twi’lek, “Runs odd jobs for Black Sun now and then,” He said simply.

He focused his attention back on Zhaan, “I gotta admit, you’re only the second Chiss I’ve ever seen,” Edin said with a smile, “What brings you so far out from home?” He would leave it alone if it was a sensitive topic, but he couldn’t deny it was a bit fascinating. Hell, after the planet was devastated, he knew Firrerreo were a rarer sight these days now as well.

@Mr. Teatime