Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Black Collar Gala

eLyxZQw.jpg

Above the sea of smog, the spires of the Red Towerhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/114390-the-red-tower/ glimmered with artificial lightning. The purified air rushed past the speeders, repulsor limousines, and personal shuttles. Creatures of every manner, dress, and stature milled on the platforms. Stern Houk security checked every guest before they were let through into the spacious halls of the Cloudbreak, to mingle and partake of riches paid with blood.

Upstanding businessmen would be hard to spy in the crowd despite the host of well-tailored suits on display – or, perhaps, because of it. From bounty hunters to crime lords, all would share the floor today, lines erased for the sake of entertainment and economical growth.

It was early still, and the nights of Nadir could well last eternal, if its masters willed them so. The bars were stocked, waiters in livery meandering through the crowd to offer alcohol and drugs alike. The house was paying for everything tonight: exquisite spirits, rare dishes, exotic pleasures of the flesh. However deep or far one’s tastes might run, the shadowport would ever provide.

Too ambitious?

Erida Teheronhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/109962-erida-teheron/ stared at the speech on her datapad. Her audience would hardly be rapt tonight. Many of them were already drunk, high, or heading there with great zeal and effort. Spewing elaborate words would at best bore and confuse them. Oh, well. She was content in the knowledge that at least one person would appreciate the time and dedication poured into the document.

“Welcome to Nadir,” was what the representative spoke into the microphone instead. “Those wishing to enter their gladiators into the Cage matches, please see Ragal the Ringmaster, three floors down. Bets will open once the brackets have been announced.” Her eyes swept over the throng. “Games of chance can be found right below us. And if any of you find yourself… unsatisfied by these choices, the Red Rooms are between the gambling and the arena, open and available to all. Please – enjoy yourselves.”



[member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Walker Ducarte"] | [member="Delilah Keyes"] | [member="sabrina"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Tytos Ardik"] | [member="Janeth Farr"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Jaresh Karv"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Eralam"] | [member="Cel Airres"] | [member="Lily Kuhn"] | [member="Venthis Zambrano"]

~~~

Many miles away, a woman was scowling at the mirror. Her jackethttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/114553-nadir-e-series-executive-suit/ lay discarded on the (new) bed, along with the shoulder holster and knives that were coming along for the ride. Shirt rolled up to the elbows – and kark any dress code rules, she’d shoot the first snob who dared complain – Aver Brand faced off against her worst enemy yet.

The bowtie.

[member="Quietus"]
 
And many flights of stairs away from the scowling woman was another woman, unsmiling. She moved without rush or haste, but with direction and contained curiosity. A little over a month ago more than just words had been shared concerning this event and it left the mute in a deeper state of reflection than usual. Nearly a moon spent pouring over old memories long thought stashed away out of reach.

Tamp tamp tamp.

Methodical steps.

Though memories she would have once worked diligently to restore to secure places of her mind, Quietus had opted to let them shake off the centuries of brain dust. To wander. Proliferate her thoughts. It wasn't so bad ... most nights.

Tamp tamp tamp.

Just the nights left unencumbered by the need to move and survive.

Tamp tamp.

A hand reached for the door, pausing momentarily as two minds greeted one another long before their bodies ever would. Anger, frustration, discontent - whims rather easily ruffled. Quietus smiled to herself, having kept her presence closed off until just now. Not something she often did, but something she found to be in her best interests here on Nadir. Too many others running around with too much power, marking their territories like rabid beasts. It was best not to give them a chance to feel threatened.

The door opened and in she stepped, quietly strolling through the entryway and kitchen towards the bedroom in the back. It was in the doorway that she paused again to take in the room and the other woman occupying it, fussing before a mirror with her bowtie. Qui would have smiled were she not so clearly caught off guard by the wardrobe and ... the hair.

She stared, head slowly tilting a degree to the side.

[member="Aver Brand"]
 
Judah was the rare upstanding businessman in the crowd.


Dressed in a simple black suit, he adjusted his bowtie while observing the crowd. It was becoming abundantly clear that perhaps he didn't quite fit in. Business dealings had been just that - business. Salacia didn't dig very deep into contract dealings, merely making sure the contract wasn't supporting the Sith or active slavers. Sometimes checks went through the cracks. Clearly he had befell into the company of criminals of a sort. It didn't particularly bother him so long as things remained professional.


Salacia had an image to uphold after all.


One perk were the cigars. He shouldn't be smoking so much considering how he had abstained for many years. Blue smoke curled around him as she stood at the edges of those gathered, watching.
 
Aela did not like what she was wearing.

Several months ago, or perhaps it was years now, she, Adder, and Jacen had been sent undercover by the Galactic Alliance to infiltrate an organization known as the Shadow Syndicate. The Syndicate had been utilizing the criminal underworld as a means to destabilize the Galactic Alliance. The mission had been extremely nerve wracking and difficult for her, but had eventually lead to her aiding in the foundation of the SIS and her future work with the group.

It was something she had looked upon fondly, almost nostalgically, though she now realized it was because she had forgotten how uncomfortable the clothes had been.

Even though Aela had retired to Wroosti, one of the conditions of the SIS had been that if they needed her they would be allowed to recall her. It was why she was here now, standing on this shuttle, once again wearing these ludicrous clothes. The getup, all of it, was in fact utterly insane. She wore a tight corset that made her feel like her breasts were about to pop out, her coat barely covered anything, and the skirt she wore felt like it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Why anyone would wear this thing was entirely beyond her, and the moment she had donned it she remembered everything bad about the mission she and her friends had undertaken.

The entire endeavor was as annoying as it was clever, and while she couldn't deny that this plan would work, she was still incredibly annoyed that she had to wear this ridiculous outfit in order for it to work. The Jedi Master scowled, glancing at herself in the mirror before slipping her glasses onto her face and pulling her hair back over her ear. She scowled, an expression that was befitting of both her and the identification that she was now donning.

Her expression somehow grew even more sour as she drew the blaster pistol from the table. "Stupid."

They likely wouldn't let her into the place with the thing and even if they did...she didn't know how to use it. Aela sighed, glancing towards her escort for the evening before finally collecting herself and looking around the room. She took a breath, zipped up the 'jacket' she was wearing, then shifted.

It was time to become Elizabeth Sabine Castille again.
 
Background Music

Harrison sped through the skyscrapers of Point Nadir, the open air running through his short, blonde hair. A rental he had leased with some of the funds he had allowed himself on this mission, it was programed with the location of his target's hotel room. Nodu Neb was an Aqualish crime lord who perpetrated the majority of crime in the East Quarter of Ando. He had been researching and following Neb for two months now, waiting for just the right moment to capture him, throwing his syndicate into instability. But he couldn't fail in acquiring Neb here, if he did, who knows when he'd get another chance. This was the first time Harrison had found Neb off world, the only place where he was vulnerable. Harrison not only had to capture Neb here at Point Nadir, but he had to do it before he left for the Red Tower, for it would be near impossible for Harrison to perpetrate the tower, its defenses, and the hundreds of criminal big whigs currently partying.

Harrison halted his speeder on the top of Neb's hotel, knowing there was no authorities to stop him. Leaping from its open air cockpit, Harrison donned his mask, making him the Vigil. Vigil walked confidently across the roof, stretching his arms in preparation for his, 'entrance'. A turbo-lift took Vigil down to the floor he requested, needing no security codes nor confirmation. As he moved through the hallways of the somewhat nice hotel, he cracked his neck before knocking on their door, feeling pumped for the surprise he had for Neb's guards. Taking a deep breath, Vigil said in perfect Aqualish, "<Knock Knock.>" Vigil listened to the quiet murmurs of confusion from inside, waiting for them to respond. But rather, they opened the door, their curiosity getting the better of them. Realizing his chance, Vigil tackled the foolish guard who had opened the door.

He rolled off the Aqualish criminal on to his feet and swept his foot at the incoming guard responding to the situation. Number two did not react quick enough, being the brute he was, and fell hard to the ground with a loud thud. However the third guard got the jump on him, and grappled Vigil to the ground. Vigil may have been taller than these Aqualish grunts, but they definitely had weight on their side. Vigil struggled to push number three off of him, but used the blunder of the fourth guard firing at him to thrust number three into the line of fire. Three slumped off of Vigil in a grunt of pain as Vigil got back on his feet. Glancing around, he noticed the first two had gotten back on their feet, while number four looked stunned at the mistake of shooting his comrade. Vigil quickly lurched to number one, attempting to land a blow on his gut, but the Aqualish blocked him with a quick shield motion with his fore-arm, however the second charged at Vigil, fortunately, Vigil reacted in time to throw a kick aim towards his head, knocking him unconscious on the entrance room floor. Turning in a moment's speed, he blocked number one's attempt at neutralizing Vigil with a chop to the neck. He swung again with the opposite arm, but this time Vigil ducked and landed three blows to the Aqualish's gut, causing him to keel over in pain.

Vigil pushed the remaining Aqualish away, still stunned from earlier. The hallway led directly to the bedroom, the only room Neb could be in. He kicked open the door, expecting a lock, to find an empty room, filled with solely with luggage and other baggage. Vigil clenched his fists and stormed back into the entrance way, were the Aqualish was hugging his knees. Vigil grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forced him against a wall, and lifted the poor sap to meet him eye to eye, "<Where is Neb.>" The henchmen babbled nonsense in reply. Vigil threw the criminal to the ground, shouting in Aqualish the same phrase, "<Where is Neb!>" This time, the bodyguard made a comprehensible phrase, "<He left! He left to the gala!>" Satisfied with the information, Vigil bashed his head in a two handed motion. The Aqualish would be out for a while, they all would.

Just what Vigil feared, he would have to infiltrate the Red Tower.

[member="Aver Brand"]
 
According to most rules of etiquette it was terribly unfashionable to arrive to any event early, or at least before the main host. However, there were times where one could find it advantageous. For one, in a big place like this it was easy to look around the layout of the floor, and possibly pick out places to duck into in the case of a sudden firefight. The "affectionately" titled Major of the First Order Security Bureau would often find herself in places which would qualify as off duty postings. If one bothered to think about it long, one might wonder if she in fact ever did manage to get any work done for the Order. What could she say? Greatness required great recreation and great company.

Walking up some interestingly designed stairs lead the Major into a massive, exquisite room. For one that appeared to be accustomed to such opulence, even she had to let out a low whistle at the gorgeous view. Gawking now complete, the 1.8 meter lady moves to the most important station of the evening: the cocktail bar. A few moments after ordering a bartender produced a bubbling liquor that appeared clear as water.

The invitation was a bit of a surprise, and especially so soon after involving Rusty's antics. Still, the Major was quite interested in seeing how the mysterious Brand and her associates behaved themselves in this decadent setting. This was of course if she was even slated to arrive. Who knew? The invitation didn't say. Regardless it should be a promising night indeed.

This agent's own outfit was nothing particularly remarkable considering the accumulating guests. She wore a white blouse of silk, a plaid bow tied about her a neck, a crimson skirt, and a pair of black suede Chelsea style ankle boots to complete her ensemble. Normally she would wear a pair of thick, round data-glasses, but tonight called for avoiding that kind of look; corrective contacts would suffice. Instead the glasses were stowed in a black clutch purse in her hands. in this way it was more comfortable to shake out her auburn hair and it let do whatever it needed to do:
S6Ni9aLx_400x400.jpg
It was entirely possible that the Major would stand on the edges of the floor and simply content herself with overhearing whatever conversations the guests decided to have. Time would tell if this plan would bear fruit.

[member="Aver Brand"]
 
Nothing but the best for the lady – Aver spared [member="Quietus"] the absolute joy of her driving, and hired a professional instead. Thus they arrived to the lip of the Cloudbreak without a single hair tussled, their clothes as gleaming and ironed as before.

A miracle, considering Nadir traffic.

Offering her hand as she stepped out on the platform, Aver paused to observe the view from on high. She’d visited the Red Tower only once before, right before the opening. Could almost pretend you were on a planet, up here – the artificial skydome above them displayed an impressive attempt at the setting sun, red and orange spilling over the smog below.

Home sweet home.

It wasn’t a murderous mercenary that fell into step with a quondam queen as they joined the crowd of hundreds. Just Ygdris and Desdemona, tonight.
 
"Walk, this is important, pay attention."

Another planet, another hotel, another gala. It wasn't the life she'd been raised to, but Del took to it like a fish to water. It was easy, just another face she wore, another persona to layer over the one Walker was slowly coming to know as the real Delilah Keyes..... even if she still hadn't told him her real name. No, that wasn't fair. Delilah Keyes was more who and what she was than her birth name had ever been.

"I know you had fun last time, but this isn't a bunch of rich snots who don't know their right hand from their arse. These are our kind of people- the Right People," she pushed up on her elbows as she watched him work his tie.

She was sprawled on the large hotel bed, already dressed and ready to go despite that. Coral and black dress, off the shoulders of golden skin. Dark hair was piled high and off of her neck. One of the necklaces they'd stolen from the baroness settled just at the curve of her throat. With their take from that side job, they'd been set for months, even without selling every piece.

"We're not here to con, unless we want to add to the list of people who would already happily-" she mimed cocking a gun and firing, making a small pechooo sound.

"These people are dangerous, Walk. Like, Red Lily crowd dangerous. Hey, are you listening?"

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
[member="Delilah Keyes"]

The only thing Walker was currently focusing on was this tie.

It was ridiculous.

Not in the way it looked, but it had some kind of absolutely bonkers way of tying it. Crossing once, twice, splitting, turning around, splitting again, Walker lost track of the thing and it was still in his hands. "Now I understand why these Lords have people doing the dressing for them," Walk mumbled to no one in particular, while restarting his efforts again. "If these are their ties, I don't even want to know how they do their pants." He had taken a couple of the ties with him just because.

Looked rather nice and according to Del the textile was expensive with a capital E.

"Huh?" He looked over his shoulder, smirking as he saw her sprawled on the bed. "Oh, yeah, I know, Del. It will be fine- we mingle a bit, take a few drinks on the house, scoop out some opportunities."

A shrug.

"Pray neither the Bantha nor the Nuna take up their invitation." After another attempt he sighed, coming over to sit on his side of the bed. "Can you help me with this?"
 
Aela Talith said:
Aela did not like what she was wearing.
Xin didn't mind it. Since getting out of prison he'd been reminded of the fact that most of the galaxy was human. Whilst he still wasn't sold on the whole furry scalp thing they could still be easy on the eye.

He didn't like what he was wearing either. A loose tunic with a heavy sash across the waist. Because tuxedos didn't actually appear in Star Wars all that often outside of Chaos. What was the point of spending all that time lifting weights whilst incarcerated if he couldn't show off the brawn of his arms? The females got to wear less for a formal do and show off their figures. It didn't make much sense to him. Probably old traditions for the upper classes. Designed to get fat, middle aged men young and attractive wives.

Hirrau was here to do the talking. Xin was just here to be a second pair of eyes. Of that he was glad. This was a necessary evil. The Fleet couldn't be too picky about who they traded with and there were some supplies that were much more affordable on the black market. Hirrau wasn't the sort to be intimidated.

After the Nikto had passed through security Xin was up. The doorman held out a hand for the obvious blaster at his hip. Then he gave him a scan and a pat down.

"And everyone gets a free man handling too?" He asked, looking over at Aela who was behind him in line. He'd been saving that for about four places now. Not that she could hide anything in that outfit.
 
Tytos was not much for parties, but a higher power had directed him to attend, so attend he did. The Umbaran looked out of place, to say the least. A straight-edge businessman, expression locked like he was constantly hearing awful news. Probably the sort of uptight stick-in-the-mud many of these criminals were hoping to avoid in coming here. His borderline military gait did him no favors either. Still, looks could be deceiving. Although that was not the case for Tytos' bodyguard for the evening, Derrenger. The Trandoshan looked every bit the sinister criminal he was, down to the scarred medium armor he wore.

Whatever assurances of security Nadir and Brand made were meaningless. When you came to deal with other criminal ringleaders, you brought a bodyguard. And Derrenger was not the only thing in store if something went terribly awry during this gala, but no one needed to worry about that. As Tytos walked, he heard the occasional snarl behind him. People kept bumping into Derrenger, it seemed. "I suggest you get used to that," Tytos informed him. "It will only get more crowded."

Derrenger muttered something negative in Dosh. Something profane, he didn't doubt. Derrenger was far from even tempered, but there were few so competent in keeping VIPs well protected. That and the rest of the Syndicate's staff of lieutenants and named mercenaries were off pursuing other objectives.
 
[member="Xin Boa"]

She offered the Twi'lek a quick little sneer, her over-sized sunglasses hiding half of her face but displeasure entirely clear. Elizabeth Sabine Castille was not the kind of woman who would enjoy being searched, less so having something of hers taken away. The ego that the woman had carried was palpable, and even after her now lengthy imprisonment at a Galactic Alliance Black Site she still carried more than a haughty tune.

Aela knew this of course, having posed as the woman three times now.

Miss Castille was of course a member of the Shadow Syndicate, or she had been at one point. Her identity had been carefully maintained by the SIS throughout Aela's absence, and most now thought of her as a low level weapons dealer. She was known for being rather...unpleasant to speak with, and in general her demeanor was one of narcissism and ego. Oddly enough Aela had gotten quite good at playing the part, something Jacen had made fun of her for on their last outing as criminals. "No."

She pointed a finger towards the guard at the door who had taken a step towards her.

"We won't be doing any of that." From beneath the fluffy coat she wore Aela drew the blaster pistol, the small weapon being offered to the guard who gave Aela a small sneer.

The security agent made a move to step forward, but Aela quickly kicked out her heel and smashed on the mans leg. "No means no."

She waggled her finger and then stepped forward, the Agent struggling for a second before he reached out and tried to catch her. Before he could one of the others grabbed his shoulder, simply pulling him back and shaking her head. The scanners would find any other weapons that 'Elizabeth' was carrying, and as she stepped through the device made no noise. With that little bit of theater over, Aela stepped through the doors and into the Gala, following right behind that odd little Twi'lek.
 

Victor Thrash

Guest
V
This wasn't exactly how he expected to spend his evening, but one didn't say no to a thankful Hutt. The Red Tower was a massive testament to the power of dirty credits, its upper levels filled with the worst kind of people. From slavers to professional cons, it didn't matter who you were, as long as you had credits. He sighed and took one last look in mirror before stepping out of the refresher and slipping his visor over his eyes again. It wasn't long before a fat, leathery arm wrapped itself around his much thinner arm.

"Ohhhh, you look absolutely delicious Galen!" It seemed someone had already had a little taste of their latest shipment. "You know, this Red Sand stuff you started transporting is absolutely delicious!"

"Did you remember to grab a downer?"

"Oh, those are not delicious so I left them with the boys! Let's get moving I can already hear the betting. We'll miss the arena fights!"

"Don't blame me for what happens then..."
 
Once again, Vigil was speeding through the polluted air of Point Nadir, his face scrunched in disgust. This air was not only smeared with the filth of unchecked industry and lack of government maintaining, but it was tainted with the rampant and disgusting crime of the city. Vigil knew there was a galaxy of outlaws, king pins, and gangsters, but dammit he was going to make a difference. But he had to grow his operation, from equipment to vehicles, he needed more. Maybe even another to help him, but that was far into the future. All there was now, was getting Neb, and bringing him to justice on Ando.

The Red Tower was growing larger in his view, inside his mind, he was psyching himself up for what was about to happen next. Entering the Red tower wouldn't be easy, even with the blaster pistol and baton he picked up at the hotel room. Vigil thrust the throttle to its max as his speeder passed over the Red Tower, leaping from its cockpit and rolling onto the hard rooftop. He knew alarms were already going off, but he knew places like this, he researched this one especially. Vigil knew that the owner wouldn't dare upset their guests over a simple break in, this was commonplace in a criminal city, they would just handle him with big armored guards. Big armored guards that would definitely slow him down, if not kill him in this crusade of his. But his determination wouldn't let him stop now.

Vigil brushed himself off, his layered Bantha Leather suit being scuffed in every place he could see, damaging the sleek appearance of his blue stripped black suit. He looked around for an entry point, noting the several cameras now pointed at him, giving his location away to whatever security personnel were around. Ignoring that, Vigil found an entry point, an air duct, nicely secured by a steel grate that no human could ever open. He crammed the blaster in between the grate so that it would stay, setting its power cell to overload. The vigilante took a few steps back and watched the blaster make a small explosion in front of him, just enough to melt the grates to allow him through. Holding the baton in his dominant hand, Vigil lifted himself in, sliding down the duct onto a level ventilation shaft.

Unfortunately, the air duct was not made for full sized humans falling down onto them, the Vigil bust through the weak metal the second he made contact, dropping him onto a velvet floor. He looked around, it was just a hallway, but it was on the highest level, meaning only the big buyers, and their big guards, were up here. The Vigil needed to get down to the Gala fast, before too many of the tower's guards found him. Vigil ran down one hallway, seeing a turbolift at its end. As he neared, a tower grunt entered from an adjacent hall, in full kit. As the guard raised his weapon, Vigil jumped towards him, hoping to knock him down and out of his way, however he aimed to low, and the Begeren soldier too big. The guard only took a few steps back as Vigil stood back on his feet. This was going to be a tough one.

[member="Aver Brand"]
 
It wasn't the first party she had arrived late to, and she doubted it would be the last. Social gatherings, or being a socialite in general, was something of a pastime for the Tetan. Parties, galas, they were the much-needed break from the daily chore of what seemed to be an unending stack of paperwork. If she wasn't busy dealing with corporate affairs, it was managing domestic ones as the head of state for a system in the core. Recently, especially within the last few months, Lily had been taking more and more time off from work and spending more time away from her responsibilities as royalty to indulge in more personal matters. This trip, however, was a little more business oriented than her recent vacation on Ragoon IV, and a little more dangerous, too. A bodyguard, someone from the Krath, was tailing her, probably blending in with the crowd for now, but she knew he wasn't going to let her out of his sight.

Ever since her power play with the Krath, and subsequent takeover of the organization, Lily had found herself meeting all sorts of people she wasn't entirely fond of - they provided some forms of business, usually in the way of purchasing ships, but it didn't make her like them any more than she did before. This gala was perhaps one of the nicer den of criminals she'd attended, but it was still full of unsavory types. For now it was best to mingle, and perhaps after a little drinking and some patently fake smiles she might find another criminal in need of another freighter to buy for their so-very-legitimate shipping businesses. Judging by some of those in attendance, she might even find someone willing to do more than just buy a ship or two - a change she was more than happy to welcome, there was much more money in contracts than there were in individual private sales after all. She wore a little less makeup than usual, enough to still look like she had tried but not enough to stand out, and was dressed in an ankle-length, strapless, black dress - she did want to dress nice, but there were dangers to attracting too much attention to one's self at these kinds of events, too.

[member="Tytos Ardik"]
 
[member="Aela Talith"]

Xin watched events unfold with great amusement. The woman was young, but wasn't taking any nonsense from the guards. This place was run by powerful people. If she was willing to risk their ire by handling the guards then she was likely high up the food chain herself. Seemed a touch young to be running her own outfit. Perhaps a relative or henchwoman from a big organisation? A dangerous person. And that drew Xin's attention. That, and her legs. Likely wouldn't give him the time of day of course.

"If I'd known a swift kick would have avoided the fondling I might have tried it myself," he said out of the corner of his mouth as she drew alongside him. He only turned his head marginally, headtails covered in inky black tattoos flicking in her direction. Her initial reaction would probably tell him a great deal. He could see Hirrau making his way towards a group in a private booth. As long as Xin could keep his eyes on the nikto he was free to move around the event. Hopefully Yulon's bounty hadn't travelled too far yet. A shame he couldnt meander down to watch the fights. He'd done a bit of kickboxing himself whilst in prison and would have enjoyed watching. And perhaps a little gamble with the few credits he had.
 
B'ill the Houk stood at the front entrance with Jaak, who was also a Houk. Interesting hiring patterns at Nadir. He gruffly patted down the party goers with his giant hands, endured the complaints, and sent them on their way. Most of the time.

He eyed the Gran, which eyed him right back.

"What?" it bleated through its mustache. Did both male and female Grans have moustaches? B'ill couldn't remember and, quite frankly, didn't care.

"Arms spread."

The Gran, who wore a billowing robe, did as requested and B'ill began the pat down. Nothing. Nothing. Something. Something round and cylindrical. Multiple somethings. A whole belt of somethings. B'ill tugged it off effortlessly and held it up in between them.

"What the kark is that?" asked Jaak.

"Ain't you ever heard of an insurance policy, ya' purple freak?"

The Houks narrowed their beady little eyes simultaneously. The result was less than pleasant.

"You can't bring a belt of thermal detonators into the gala." B'ill explained, speaking slowly so the goat could understand him.

"Why the nine hells not?"

"Because-" B'ill waved the belt around, exasperated, trying to find the words, but the words didn't come. Nadir didn't pay him to find words. They paid him to find bombs.

Luckily, Jaak stepped forward. Maybe he had words. He was always better at them than B'ill.

Jaak punched the Gran in the face and knocked him out cold. The body landed with a fleshy thump.

Slightly stunned, B'ill looked from the belt, to Jaak, to the unconscious Gran, then to Jaak again. Jaak was smiling. B'ill grunted. Well, he guessed that worked too. He handed off the belt to Jaak to dispose of.

"Next."

A giant slug slithered forward, surrounded by four bodyguards. Two Vodrans, a Klatooinian, and a Nikto. Oh. It was a Hutt. Great. The Hutt was missing one eye. Well, not really missing. It was still there, it was just surrounded by ugly scars and all filmed over with white, so B'ill assumed he couldn't see out of it. The bodyguards all carried vibroaxes or vibroknives, which was fine. Couldn't really commit mass murder with some daggers. And if they could, well, B'ill probably wouldn't be able to stop them anyway. He and Jaak patted the four guards down, then he turned to the Hutt.

The Hutt was watching him with the eye that still worked and smiling slightly. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Uh. I'm going to have to-"

A funny-looking Devaronian he hadn't noticed shambled his way out from behind the Hutt and stared at B'ill. The Hutt started speaking in Huttese. B'ill was a little rusty and the Hutt's voice was deep. It left them in an awkward spot, right up until the Devaronian translated in an oily drawl.

"Lay a hand on the Great Gorba and he will flay you alive and have your flesh fed to his Massiffs piece-by-piece while you watch."

B'ill blinked. The Hutt - Gorba - widened his smile ever so slightly. The Houk sighed. It didn't look like the Hutt was carrying any weapons anyway. He wasn't wearing clothes to hide them. And B'ill wasn't about to try and pump the Hutt's stomach to see what came up. Not for the money this gig paid.

"Ok. Have a nice night," he stepped aside and the slug slithered past.

* * *​
On entering the festivities, Gorba made straight for the food, where he proceeded to devour an entire sample of an exotic dish from the Unknown Region. The Hutt then promptly turned his attention on those assembled at the shadowport. There were known and unknown entities. Gorba desired to meet each of them, if only briefly.

<Ah. The banker,> Gorba rumbled to the Devaronian, pointing out [member="Tytos Ardik"]. LeFrange nodded, absently tracing one of his horns.

"Do you want a meet?"

<Mmm, no. Not yet. Aaaah, what is that?" His eye fixed on a blonde humanoid clothed in apparel he found immensely pleasing.

LeFrange frowned, staring at the woman. "I, I don't know. Want me to find out?"

Gorba nodded, waving a dismissive hand while plopping another Umbaran night cake into his mouth. <Bring her to me.>
[member="Aela Talith"]
 
Xin and Hirrau were here on business for he fleet and so was Kinsey. Seemed they needed a third pair of eyes. As if Xin's inky orbs weren't big enough. She didn't have the luxury of going as herself though. Pesky business of being wanted by a fairly powerful Sith Lord.

One wrong drunken night and life turned to chit.

A synth mask was over her face and hair was bleached with blue highlights. Brown contacts were masking those big blue Starchaser eyes of hers. Hand were in white gloves and she wore a crisp uniform of wait staff. Nothing slinky here. Gloved-hand balanced a tray filled with an assortment of drinks. She wove through through the crowds like someone who knew how. Managed to get by some gnarly looking body guard to offer a drink to [member="Tytos Ardik"].

"Ahem sir. Would you like a sex on the beach?"

Free hand motioned to the drinks.
 
The Umbaran and his bodyguard found their way over to one of the bars, where Tytos was happy to stand and wait. One hand rested on the bar as he scanned the room, dull blue eyes darting back and forth among the assembled crowd. There had been an objective in mind coming here. Far be it for him to do anything else until that was done. Like his more famous cousin, Tytos did not partake in drinking. Even socially. Though if he did he certainly didn't trust anything be poured out here. Would have been too easy to poison. The food too. Though this concern was clearly something unique to Tytos. He could see now the great [member="Gorba the Hutt"] had slithered into the room, occupying the same space as around twenty people.

And now he had started the long and arduous task of eating the same amount of food as those twenty hypothetical people.

Charming. Maybe if Tytos' digestive system were so robust, he would have joined him. Sadly, it was not, and as if that view wasn't unpleasant enough, a serving wench was now up in his face. The banker barely turned, eyes flicking over [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] once before snapping back to the crowd. "No."

Derrenger sniffed at the air disdainfully and growled at Kinsey, as if to emphasize that it was time for her to move along. Maybe bother the Hutt instead. Hutts loved human women. It was one of their few loves that Tytos could empathize with. In any event, he had now noticed [member="Lily Kuhn"] moving through the crowd and promptly peeled himself from the bar. "Pardon me," he said, though it sounded more like a command than than an excuse. Tytos marched off and Derrenger followed after him, but not before giving the Starchaser woman another vicious glare.
 
[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Xin Boa"]

"Well." Aela commented as she motioned to one of the waiters that was wandering past her, spotting a tall stem glass that seemed to be filled with some sort of champagne. "Perhaps in a few years you'll grow enough balls to do so."

Ordinarily Aela wouldn't say such a thing in a million years, but Elizabeth Castille would. A small part of her was horrified at the phrase, though an even smaller part was proud. She could picture Adder and Jacen in her head, both of them smiling proudly as she slipped further into the roll of a criminal underlord. It was something she'd gotten surprisingly good at. Maybe it was all of the novels she had read, or maybe her recent growth had just seen to her becoming more fluid with these things.

Either way Aela felt accomplished enough, grabbing a drink from the waiter and taking a sip before the Twi'lek ever had time to answer.

Of course a few seconds later she noted the Hutt sludging across the room. It stuffed it's maw with half of the table on the food and almost immediately an expression of disgust formed on Aela's feature. The visage was not at all an act, the gluttony that was currently on display being enough to turn her stomach twice over. She shivered slightly, then noted that a Devaronian parted ways from the Hutts side and began to head towards her. She scowled, recognizing the opportunity in front of her but not being quite ready to take it. "Stand here."

She grabbed the Twi'lek and dragged him in front of her, forcefully moving him to intercept the Devaronian coming her way.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom