A Dying Breed

[Corvetta Salvo]

Corvetta was crying.

All the old smugglers were gone. All her friends had strayed; even disappeared. She had met up with Eliza a few weeks ago, but--as fun as it was--that did not last. The camaraderie of the Smugglers' Alliance and the smuggler community in general seemed to be decaying. It was becoming harder and harder to mingle with her own peers. And the jobs were becoming harder to find unless they were unusually high-risk. Sure, Risk was the name of the game for smugglers, but execution at the hands of the Sith and Primeval was starting to have its effects on the freelance freighter ambitions. The market was shifting to Galactic South, and that was a shame. The money simply was not as easy to come by. People were stingy, and smuggling was becoming more indecent than illegal.

Ol' Graxlerod. Yeah, that had been a good time. She had made herself into what she was at her peak when he was around. She could feel proud in those days. She was the private pilot for some awkward sort of guy who did not have the worst face in the galaxy either. Those had been the days when she did things, had goals and ambitions, felt like the galaxy was her oyster. She was out there to live her life and make enough to keep rocking on. She had fallen in love with Grax; experienced her first kiss. And right when she had decided that maybe she could reconcile herself with those emotions and his turbulent life, he was gone.

Her crew was gone. Good times together had faded out with their dispersal. They just seemed to wander off eventually. Even Kohai had become more distant. She was everyone's friend. Who was her friend?

In short, everything had turned wrong.

Corvy had always been an alcoholic. So it was not difficult to imagine her in this shady Ord Mantell cantina anyway. But the volume she consumed expanded by the week. She was also beginning to down some harder drinks. It was all coming out now, though. Liquor tears. She was running out of money, running out of friends, and running out of alcohol. "What the frak did I do wrong..."

 

[Kairon Rees]

[member="Corvetta Salvo"]

Coincidence was an odd thing. Only last week he had been thinking about how long it had been since the days of the Smuggler Alliance. Almost five years in fact since Coruscant was taken by the One Sith and he had joined an Alliance mission to strip some star destroyer wrecks. Since then the ever more destructive conflicts had opened up opportunities, but also exponentially increased the risks associated with his chosen trade. Borders were tighter than ever as each faction tried to prevent opposition gaining access to their systems. His crew had been hired hands for underground movements as much as they had been smugglers of late. That was even more dangerous; a smuggler was a neutral party out for profit, working with a resistance movement made you a target of military intelligence groups.

As he strode into the bar he raised his eyebrows in surprise as he instantly recognised the form of the leader of the Alliance. A broad grin spread across his face and he started to make his way through the bar, delicately avoiding the toes of a Tandoshan as he went.

Rees froze. As he had come closer, he could see that the captain was crying into her drink. Tears ran freely, and her face glistened with moisture. Oooh no! he thought to himself. He was not in the business of consoling women ten years younger than him. Such a situation would only be excruciatingly uncomfortable for both parties and he was hardly the person to make anyone feel better. Kairon took a tentative half-step backwards, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

Her cheeks and nose were warm with the alcohol-saturated blood pushing through her head. Her tongue clung to the relentless, tangy aftertaste of the syrupy liquid she had last ingested. Whatever that was, it had done its job, but she would try to remember its mostly unpleasant aftermath. Then again, she might forget it by tomorrow. Corvetta was known to get tipsy with a fair frequency--even on the job sometimes. But downright sloshed was not exactly typical of this flygirl. She could only recall a few instances before when she had resorted to this excess, and most of those had been isolated affairs. This was becoming a habit.

Oh. And whatever the Bith a few booths down was smoking was just foul.

Her parents had always warned her to stay away from alcohol and joints like these. It had actually been the precursor to her launching out of the old hauler her dad ran and hitching rides in exchange for some piloting and mechanical work. She had built up a reputation on her extreme friendliness, expansive ship knowledge, and seat-of-the-pants way of getting things done, and had eventually picked up a beauty of an antique Corellian '2400 model with her friends.

But that seemed only a season of her life. And a very short one at that. She might as well accept it. The good days were gone and the Smugglers' Alliance was just a shadow of a legend. The days of tooth-and-nail smuggling were upon them, and Corvetta was not sure if her breed could last. Pulling runs for resistance groups was starting to get to her. As optimistic of a woman as she was, she always sensed in the back of her mind that the next Sith-ditching run might be her last.

The pilot lifted her clammy hands off the tabletop and began to count on her fingers the people who she might still know--provided they were still alive. Eliza she had just run into recently. Skip over Jace--he was gone. Listeri had shown up for five minutes again.

Who was that scruffy dude? Had a kid with him all the time who seemed to cause trouble more often than not. "Kairon," she muttered, holding out her hand in what might have passed for a groggy attempt at a wave. Did she really recognize him? Her vision was far too blurry and her mind too smashed to really be certain. But when had she ever worried about what people thought of her?

Just last week, actually. "How ya doin', cranker?"

[member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

[member="Corvetta Salvo"]

[SIZE=10pt]Crap.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Too late to back out now, he managed to force a smile across his face. The other smuggler was leaning across the table awkwardly, her head weaving from side to side as she strained to look at him. She looked beyond worse for wear. The evening had barely started and she was already struggling to stay upright…in a chair. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]His eyes scanned the room, desperately searching for a way out. Nothing presented itself. He had no excuses or prior appointments and his mind had drawn a blank. He'd merely been heading into the bar to grab a bottle of red, one glass and see the evening off. There was nothing to do now but accept his fate and try and minimise how awkward the situation became. Just like a few weeks ago when his nephew had vanished, leaving him to explain the situation to a rather delicate flower he’d left on the ship and turf her out before some rather unpleasant individuals turned up for a business meeting.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Perhaps if he didn’t comment on how she had clearly been crying onto the table a few moments ago, it wouldn’t come up. “Getting by, getting by,” he mumbled in his gruff manner, making his way to the table. “How’s things?” he asked autonomously, before realising his error. That was not the question to ask a crying drunk woman. “Do you need another drink?” he offered politely before she could reply to his first question. “Or did you already have company?” he asked hopefully. [/SIZE]

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

A light smile stretched across Corvy's cheeks at the more-or-less consoling news that Kairon was 'getting by'. That was about as well as any smuggler could say these days. Unless he had found the motherlode somewhere. Hardly likely unless he was more daring with the Sith than she had considered him to be.

She held her soft smile even when he asked how her situation was. Brain swimming in alcohol, she practically forgot the question as soon as he switched the conversation's gears to something less of a social blunder. Though she hardly would care either way and probably just tell him everything was fine. "Nah, I don't need anything," the pilot declined, though another drink sounded good if it could wash away the night. "Just leanin' here between trucks. It's not the same place I remember."

She glanced about, eyes lingering on the drifting Bith and the plumes of fog he was emitting via his little snorkel thing. It must have been a more conventional drug if no one was calling the authorities over it. This was Ord Mantell. They generally let a few things slip here and there as long as it did not affect anyone directly. Still, Corvetta was annoyed. The mist was making her feel extra woozy. "Where's your kid? He still playin' 'possum?"

[member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

[member="Corvetta Salvo"]

The conversation seemed relatively safe, so Kairon took a seat and idly waved towards the bartender. “Phhh,” he blew out as he vainly tried to waft away some of the acrid smoke. “Asmus is ‘hanging?’ That’s the word they use now right, ‘hanging’?" he asked, all too aware that Corvetta was at least ten years his junior. Good way to make yourself sound even older than you feel!

"Anyway we’re moored for a few days and made enough profit from the last run to have some spare change. Of course he spent it all last night and is now feeling worse for wear," Kairon chuckled. "Oh bottle of red please,” Kairon said as a barman passed the table. “How’s the Lost Cause and her crew running these days?” he asked.

 

[Khiltran]

Khiltran was seating in one of the booths near the bar of the cantina, he and his two bodyguard droids were sitting with him. He was looking at the Sith criminal database, trying to find a good bounty when he came across a smuggler. A human woman by the looks of it. Wanted for rebellion and smuggling illegal items...he said to himself while reading the description in his handheld computer. He looked at one of his assassin droids, IG-77. "What do you think?" he asked the droid. The droid spoke in a foreign alien language, one Khiltran apparently understood. "That's what I like to hear" He answered.

Khiltran looked around, but in his first scan of the place he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he glanced at the picture of the female smuggler in his computer and once again scanned the cantina, trying to see if he saw his target. He asked himself, where would I be if I were a smugger in a cantina? He then looked at the bar and immediately spotted who he was looking for. The woman was talking with an older man (well, at least compared to her). Khiltran then stood up from his booth and walked toward the bar and sat beside the two smugglers, he didn't say a word to any of them. He just ordered a drink from the bartender and acted like any of the common patrons of the cantina.

 

[Vykter Orade]

Vykter stumbled into the bar, nearly knocking a patron to the floor as he did so. "W-w-whoa there spacer, watch where you're flying!" He mumbled out as he laughed and made his way to the bar. After ordering a Ruby Bliel (His 8th for the night. Or was it 9th?) he did his usual paranoia induced sweep of the bar. Merc...merc...merc...smuggler...ex-merc...merc...probably a spy...crying smuggler...old smuggler...osik, there didn't seem to be anything FUN going on. Don't people have fun anymore? Since Karrik died, there didn't ever seem to be much to smile about, and apparently this new sludge pit was no different.

What's a guy got to do to find a little excitement around here?!

 

[Jake Shukalar]

Jake noticed a crying woman in the corner of the bar almost immediately when he entered. He couldn't shake the feeling that she knew something that would help him get a job. He needed to make some money to continue being able to fill up the tank on his ship, an AP-89 Crux-Class Heavy Freighter, that he had since his father died. He knew how to fly his ship and fight, but he hadn't been in any real combat situations in it yet, not that he really wanted to. He sighed as he saw her tears almost dry up when somebody she apparently knew showed up. It seemed as though the man didn't want to talk to her and this didn't exactly help her that much. But a conversation was something at least. He asked the bartender what she was having, and said, "Send her a bottle, she looks like She could use it." [member="Corvetta Salvo"]. It wasn't too cheap either, but if it helped her it would be worth it. He ordered a glass of Corelian ale for himself and sat there in his Mandalorian armor, minus his helmet, occasionally glancing in her direction while still wondering how he was going to make enough money to get by another year. He knew he had enough to get to the end of the month, but after that he would have nothing.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

"That's snazzy," Corvetta commented, trying to sound enthusiastic about hearing of Kairon's life post-Alliance dissolution. It was certainly good to get filled in on things and reacquainted. No regrets there. And she was feeling a tinge happier for it. But things seemed to have kept somewhat steady for her old smuggler friend and his crew and family as opposed to how things had gone with Corvetta and her crew.

She never wanted to betray her glumness, though. Everyone who knew Corvy thought she was fun. (Or annoying--but forget them.) To claim anything else just felt uncharacteristic. But maybe she needed to confront that. Maybe she needed to accept this sadness.

But not today. Just acknowledge it and move on to something else. "Kind of feeling lonely lately. It's my bucket now and all my mates've taken other places. We ping sometimes, but that's about it." Someone sent a bottle her way, and the pilot looked about the barroom to try to spot who it was. It was not often she was hit on--or at least not often that she noticed. She always felt like 'one of the boys'. Blurry blue eyes scanned the file of barstools but had difficulty identifying whoever it might have been.

Though she did notice a pair of droids at the bar. She pointed shakily in their general direcation and noted to Kairon, "I thought they don't serve their kind here..."

[member="Kairon Rees"], [member="Khiltran"], [member="Vykter Orade"], [member="Jake Shukalar"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

"Well that was rather remarkable timing!" Kairon said with a subtle smile. "Don't worry I'll shuffle off somewhere quietly if your mysterious friend turns up. Actually..." he said, pausing for a moment to take a long drink from his glass. "...if he's ugly, give me a sign or something and I'll stick around."

He made no comment on the droids, merely nodding. Those, however, were not the kind of droids typically seen in a bar. IG model droids had a rather singular purpose. Kairon shifted his glass to his left hand, his right fell to his lap and undid the catch on his holster. "Running solo is never great," he said redundantly with a shrug. Taking the less travelled hyperspace lanes could lead to long journey times. Having a crew aboard was as useful to keep you sane as it was to fight off pirates. He wasn't in a position to promise much, even without paying his nephew or his cathar stowaway a real wage, his profits were running slim. "If I get word of a big enough job, how about I give you a shout? We could slave your ship for a long journey, might reduce the chance of hyperspace sickness!"

 

[Jake Shukalar]

Jake continued to sit at the bar watching as she recieved the bottle, but at then picked up his cup and started drinking. He didn't know what to say to such a pretty girl, and anyhow, how was such a good looking woman like this supposed to help him gain credits. for now he observed stealthily sneaking a glance here, or watching through a reflection there. He took this time to consider what to say once he actually did let her know who had sent the bottle. He saw another, A Chiss man walk over to the bar and case the two people currently sitting at a booth near the bar, with two IG droids. Those were notorious for being bounty hunters companions, or even bounty hunters themselves. He knew something was about to go down, so he stood up and grabbed one of the four different grenades he had on his belt, an Ion grenade, notorious for taking down electronic circutry. Noticing the position of the two droids, he gathered the info that the first thing they would do was split up. The foot placement of the droids had already shifted, as if preparing to do so on their master's mark. Jake knew that this woman had probably not done anything wrong, except piss off someone with a wealth of credits. So he prepared to defend her with his DC-15s pistol, and DL-44 blaster.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] | [member="Kairon Rees"] |[member="Khiltran"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

Ord Mantell was a pretty relaxed place, compared to some other planets in the galaxy. Even so, it was not the place he wanted to be in, though visiting was necessary in order to get where he wanted to go. Fully armed, at least. The Sith sought passage to Alderaan, which was a difficult task in itself due to the planet being under Republic control. Striding into the cantina, the young Sith Knight would hold his dark cloak close to his body, a hod hung over his head to conceal his identity to passerbys. The force had drawn him to Ord Mantell, and Ballen-Ist could not help but feel as if someone was about to luck out.

Pausing to take a look around the room, Ballen knew that someone here would be familiar. The force did not often guide him for no reason. Directing his glowing yellow eyes to each of the notable patrons, the Sith would stalk his way towards the bar counter, his gaze now glued upon [member="Corvetta Salvo"]. The Knight did not particularly know the woman, though he had encountered her before along with Kohai Drenn. Ballen had employed the services of the mechanic woman, only to skip put before being asked for payment. Looking back at the incident, the Sith could not help but laugh quietly to himself, thinkinf how petty and foolish he had been back then.

Hopefully this drunken smuggler did not recognize him, not that it would be easy to with his cloak on. Lifting an arm from beneath the dark cloth, Ballen-Ist would place his gloved hand on the counter, making sure to stand beside the woman as he did so. Looking at the many glasses in front of her, the young man could not help but sneer in disgust, annoyed that the force had guided him to Corvetta in this state. She was a shell of her former self, the Sith could sense it on her emotions and surface thoughts. "Pull yourself together, my god," the Knight would hiss, slowly turning to give [member="Kairon Rees"] a quick look. He didn't know who this man was, or any of the others for a fact, but the more crew members there were the more he'd have to shell out. "I have a job. You will be safe, and nicely rewarded."

The man would promise, his words seeming to scream generic Sith betrayal. Though, that was far from the case, not that those around him would know. Last but not least, the Knight would slowly turn to look down the bar counter once more, spotting @Khiltran. The dark clothed Sith would glare in the Chiss' direction, his glowing eyes seeming to burn holes through his very being. Yet, that was far from what Ballen desired. He hoped that everything would go smoothly, and that he wouldn't have to engage anyone in combat or overall hostilities.

 

[Khiltran]

It seems that someone else joined the party. Khiltran said to himself, while locking his eyes on the Sith Knight next to him. He then spoke to the Sith in a quiet voice, trying not to attract attention to himself and the man next to him. "The Sith have a big bounty on her head. I'm willing to split it with you, if you want" Khitran said quietly. "I have a booth nearby, it has two droids, can't miss them...we can talk more there" He added as he stood up from the bar. Khiltran was about to walk away when he was stopped by the bartender. "Hey Chiss, the droids have to go. They aren't allowed here" The bartender demanded while pointing at him in a menacing manner. "I should cut you down where you stand..." Khiltran threatened while flashing his lightsaber at the bartender from under his cloak. "Actually, maybe Credits might convince you" Khiltran added. He then threw a few hundred credits on the bar and walked away and once again sat on his booth.

 

[Jake Shukalar]

Jake overheard the chiss bounty hunter, saying

"The Sith have a big bounty on her head. I'm willing to split it with you, if you want"

to the sith next to him. He then scrawled a note on a piece of paper and asked if the bartender would tape it to the bottle and have it delivered to the woman he was watching. It read 'The neighbors are here for you, hunter present, I have a hill nearby- The mando in red armor'. It was written in smuggler's Cant, at least he did his best to remember what he could. it was directed towards [member="Corvetta Salvo"] , though he didn't yet know her name. he was sure she would know what it meant.


Translation, unseen by all except Corvetta and [member="Kairon Rees"]
The Sith are here for you. Bounty hunter present, I have a ship nearby.
- The Mando in red armor

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

Corvetta shifted her neck from side to side as if she might acquire a better view of whoever had sent her the gift as Kairon stood up. She nearly forgot what he said to her before processing it and responding in turn. "Oh, yeah. You bet your asteroid..." It was apparent that her mind was still occupied with this mystery, though her alcohol impairment hardly helped her concentrate on the here and now. "You've got my 'Net digits, right?"

There was hardly a time for any sort of well-wishing sendoff. The smugglers were approached by a rather straightforward, red-faced chap that was by no means recognizable to Corvetta, considering her inebriation. Not that she would likely remember him anyway. She had encountered trillions of people in her life, and many of them also had red skin tones. Maybe if she were with Kohai, her memory could have been refreshed. But Kohai was not here. And she had not been for a fair amount of months, sadly.

That harsh opening line of his hardly would have made Corvetta want to remember him, anyway. She tried her best to give a scowl, though it came out more like a pathetic pout. His words were sharp to her, but perhaps they could be solved with another drink... Yes. She took up the fresh bottle of brandy and drank in a generous swig. A moment later, she was delivered another item--this one a note.

The pilot shook her head sadly. "A secret admirer? For me?" Unfortunately, she had no idea what the message was because she was dyslexic, drunk, and practically illiterate besides. Where ever could this nice person be? It was no use to continue straining her eyes.

"Hello, Sunshine," she muttered towards [member="Ballen-Ist"] as she put the note back on the tabletop. "Deep haul?"

[member="Kairon Rees"], [member="Jake Shukalar"], [member="Khiltran"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

A firm frown would etch itself upon the Pureblood's lips, as he watched the pitiful attempt of [member="Corvetta Salvo"] trying to be intimidating. It almost made the man feel sorry for her, though he wasn't here to counsel and comfort the sad woman. There were many others in the cantina, ones that sought to disturb and interfere with his business transaction. It was to be expected, especially on a planet like this. Ballen-Ist did not care for any bounties, neither was he interested in appeasing his Sith masters. All he wanted was to get out of here. Ignoring the Chiss, the Knight would lift an arm from beneath his cloak, calling the note into the palm of his hand via telekinesis. A thin steam of smoke would raise from the Sith's balled fist, as he burned the hidden message right then and there.

"It's a simple job, one I expect you to be capable of despite your state," Ballen would comment, hoping she didn't mess things up. "I need only one item to be smuggled, we will discuss details in private," the Knight spoke, not making it sound like she had much of a choice. Though, he didn't seem visibly hostile or aggravated. Yet. "If all goes well, I'm sure you'll be able to get out of this... Mess." The man concluded, knowing that the reward would be great, mostly due to the high personal value of said item. All that was left to see was if the woman was cooperative or not.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

A wispy tail of smoke rose before her and traveled up to the ceiling, and she followed its dissipating ascension for a moment like a confused cat. "Simple? I can do simple," she responded with syncopated syllabic stress after the 'show' was over. If the alcohol was not getting to her before, it was really working its stuff now. "Truckin's been shabby lately."

That was when she realized what she had just witnessed. "Hey! I was going on a date..." Her lips protruded in a pouting expression, the sloshed smuggler obviously disappointed that she had lost the note she wished she was able to read. Now she would never meet her secret admirer!

[member="Ballen-Ist"], [member="Jake Shukalar"], [member="Khiltran"], [member="Kairon Rees"], [member="Vykter Orade"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

A date? This woman was completely out of it. A groan would escape the Sith's red lips as he lifted an arm from beneath his dark cloak. His arm would reach out for [member="Corvetta Salvo"]'s own, aiming to form a tight grip around her upper limb with a gloved hand. Pulling, the Knight would attempt to lift the woman forcefully from her seat, while also acting as her balance so she didn't fall on her drunk face. It was the least Ballen could do for the smuggler. It didn't seem like anyone was going to interfere, and so the young man would walk towards the bars exit, letting go of Corvetta as they stood to the side of the street. Another arm would lift from the shadows of his cloak, producing a small datapad and handing it over to the woman. It was heavily encrypted and nigh impossible to hack. It held all the details of the mission, that would be revealed shortly. "Pull this off, and you can make a fortune. Cross me, and you will regret it." Ballen would explain casually, figuring she knew the drill.

 

[Kairon Rees]

There would be a quiet creak of the bar door swinging closed again. Kairon wasn't at all happy with the way Corvetta had been manhandled from her chair. For now, he stayed in the shadows near the bar door.