Private A Gambit[Part 1/Solo]

[Lex Del'Fino]

Malt's Cantina, Nar Shaada​

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This late into the night, the Cantina was in full swing. Dozens upon dozens of patrons swarmed about it's interior like ants within a colony, each self-interested in their own pleasures or business for the night. It wasn't particularly loud, at least for a crowd of this size in a location so enclosed, but a person would need to often raise their voice in order to be clearly heard, which itself wasn't a problem; after all, the festivities were just beginning. The array of characters found within the establishment were varied- and volatile. Smugglers, pirates, thieves, and killers, all of various repute and ability, mixed and interacted. But, in Hutt space, this kind of crowd was the norm.

"Haven't seen you around these parts for a quite a while, Finn." A male Zabrak spoke in a husky voice, sounding as if he were constantly on the verge of a coughing fit. He wore a rather simple tunic and leather jacket combination, nothing that stood out much in present company, of which there were several others. A Twi'lek, a couple of Humans, a Bothan, and a Duros, all seated around a rather large open-booth table. Various currencies and trinkets sat in the middle of the table, while each person held a hand of cards, most keeping them close to their body as the glanced at each other.

"The Galaxy is a big place, Jerome." Across from the Zabrak, Lex took a sip from his glass, shuddering as the exotic alcohol crashed into his system. He didn't look up as he responded to the man, instead keeping his eyes on his own hand of cards, which had been placed face down on the table. "I'm sorry you can't see such a pretty face everyday too."
A cacophony of laughter erupted from the table, breaking an unseen tension that'd been held over it. He allowed a smirk to cross his face as he finally looked up at Jerome, who didn't seem as amused. He shrugged.

"Yeah, alright, very funny-" Jerome leaned forward towards the table, "-but last I heard you were in Coalition territory." The laughter died down at this. "Delivering for the Judges now?" A sly grin came to the Zabrak's face.

Lex allowed his eyes to roll in annoyance. "Yeah, and what if I have? You gonna run around telling people?" Jerome's grin faded slowly. "Finn Delson does the odd legal delivery or two! Shame on him!" He spoke in a voice that mocked the Zabrak. "Look if you want to limit your income, that's your business-" as he spoke, the card game came to a head, and each player revealed their trio. "-but me, I'm always looking for the next check." He flipped his own, revealing a full suite. The others at the table, including Jerome, waved dismissively at him as he collected the winnings, the amount equaling to about 5,000 credits total. The group slowly dispersed afterward, leaving him alone at the table.

Finishing off his drink, he settled into his seat, glancing around the Cantina. It was a strange feeling. He'd finally managed to slink out from responsibilities with the Order and slip back into the Frontier, falling back easily into the roles he'd played for over a decade just as easily as someone put on a shirt. He'd been Finn Delson almost as long as he'd been Lex Del'Fino, the identity growing from just a persona into a full blown second life that he lived. He was a smuggler, a reliable one at that. Rarely a dissatisfied client, and always timely in the shipments. The Vagabond's Solace made for a pretty decent freighter, once he removed the Silver Jedi tags and markings that blanketed it's hull and interiors. Often times, Lex felt like the second life, and Finn the first one.

But lately... maybe it was because he was getting old, or maybe it was because he spent so little time with the Order before, but Lex was feeling a bit homesick. Sure, there were plenty of rules that suffocated him, and enough annoying Padawans to drive someone insane, but, it was starting to feel like home, a place to settle. He had to admit that it wasn't something he felt often in his life.

While mulling about his thoughts, a figure approached him. Turning to look, Lex saw it was the Twi'lek that'd been among the players earlier. "Aren't any redoes I'm afraid. Better luck next time."

"Oh that's not what I'm here about-", he said. He was a pale green skinned man, the tentacles that hung from his head wrapped around his neck as a kind of makeshift scarf. He wore a visibly high quality outfit, one more suited to formal parties than bar-crawling and gambling. "-I'm here for you, actually. Or rather. Your talents."

His interest piqued, Lex turned fully towards the man. "Oh?"

"Not here, my employer is waiting however for a meeting."

 

[Lex Del'Fino]

Impromptu meetings like this always rubbed him the wrong way. Isolated rooms, away from crowds of people, nice and quiet? You could practically spell out the word, "setup". Times like these, Lex was glad he kept his lightsaber on hand, despite the excuses he had to make if someone saw it. Weapon of a Jedi? No, this was just a slim thermal canteen. Or a flashlight. He actually used that one often enough. As the Twi'lek led him through the streets-ways of Nar Shadda, Lex went through a mental check list of people that'd want him beat-up, shot, stabbed, or otherwise rendered one with the Force.. As it turned out, it was quite an extensive list. Finn Delson had crossed many gangsters, crime lords, and smugglers over the years, and most of them had promised some for of revenge.

"So, this employer. I know him?" He asked his guide as they entered a different Cantina. This one, though, was a monastery compared to where he'd just come from. The interior was dimly lit, the people within speaking in soft, whispered voices, hunched over and leaning in closely to one another. This was most certainly a crime lord's den. "Not personally, no. I wouldn't even be surprised if you hadn't heard his name before." So someone that he didn't know, but knew him? That... didn't bode well. He glanced around, wondering if any of the patrons currently within could be the client, but the Twi'lek led him right through the main area, past the bar into a back hallway.

As they walked, Lex began to feel a chill on the back of his neck. It was an eerie sense, though not an unfamiliar one. It felt like a pair of eyes were on him, though not physically. Something, or someone, was reaching out through the Force, though the presence was weak, limp, as if it weren't intentional. He paused, attempting to pin point exactly where it's source was. It wasn't malicious in any way, but instead was... curious? As if inspecting him. Concentrating like this was always a task for Lex, who'd always preferred and focused on the more physical aspects of his studies and training. Just as soon as he reached out, the presence retracted, as if fearful of being discovered.

The Twi'lek, having noticed his momentary pause, looked back. "Something wrong, Delson?"

"I- No, I'm fine, just wondering if I payed my tab before we left."

"If you take this offer, you'll be able to pay the tabs of everyone in that cantina, twice over."

A minutes of walking latter found him standing in front of his potential employer, flanked by two well-armed and armored guards. The room was decorated with ornate trinkets, statues, an paintings, clearly demonstrating that the person was an avid collector, of sorts. The man... or woman, it was always hard to tell with Hutts, themselves, featured nearly jet black skin, tattooed with intricate golden patterns that flowed across their body.

"So, you are the reputable smuggler and gambler, Finn Delson?" They spoke in a raspy, yet vibrant voice. It was almost musical to the ears.

"That's what they call me. And you are-"

"Ruvo. You may call me Ruvo. Tell me, Delson, how do you feel about art?"

"It's alright, I guess? I don't get attached to trinkets too easily. Bad for business." He did his best to appear non-threatened and non-threatening at the same time, but his hands hovered near his waist all the same.

Ruvo let out a chuckle. "I can see your point. I, however, love it. In all of it's forms, as you can see from my collection. Paintings, statues, crafts, I desire it all, to be surrounded by it."

"Uh-huh.... so you want me to steal something for you? Is that the job? Because I'm really the grand heisting type."

"Oh no, no, no. Your cargo would already be secure. I'm just asking you to deliver it."

"And what's the shipment?"

At this, Ruvo paused, taking a long drink from a bottle filled with a reddish liquid, draining the container before setting it back down. "Jana? JANA!" He looked around him, as well as behind him, before sighing. "That girl... Ka'l." The Twi'lek perked up. "Yes, Lord Ruvo?" He stepped forward, closing the gap between him and the Hutt. "Find that girl, and discipline her. Then send her in with a refill of my drink and some refreshments." Ka'l silently nodded, dipping into a bow and exiting the room.

It was difficult for Lex to hide the scowl he felt coming on. Slavery was one of the vices of the Underworld that he despised with a passion. Slavers and slave-owners were one in the same kind, the worst kind of scum that Galaxy would produce. His entire demeanor soured. Whatever this could of been, a contact, a lead, changed, Ruvo's name rising on an ever expanding list of marks for Lex to dismantle and take down. Ruvo seemed to sense this, at least, he sensed his mood change, and his offer more or less ended up being an attempt to win him over, first with credits, then with items, and finally with favors, all which ended poorly. Finally, the Hutt would give up.

'Thank you for the... offer, Ruvo. But I think I'll exhaust my winnings from tonight, before I go taking another job."

"Mmmm. I see. It's a shame. You can go." Ruvo waved dismissively at him, indicating his presence wasn't required any longer. Turning on his heel, he made his way to the door. As it opened, he bumped into the wall, placing one of the Silver Shadows listening devices against it. Ruvo wouldn't give up on his "cargo". Whoever took on the job next, would find their trip intercepted, and the people they trafficked freed. He'd swear on it.