Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Friends In Low Places

Siala Vash

Guest
S
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The city-sprawl of Corsucant was alive at night. Men and women dressed to the nines, sleek speeders heading to the local hot-spots, and the lights blazed well into the wee hours.

But here in the underworld, things were different.

It was lit with artificial lights with hints of neon, there were all sorts of nefarious shadows, and more than one spice dealer. And Siala loved it all. Dressed in boots, slim black jeans, a casual tee, and leather jacket, she walked alone through the dim streets. She passed people by on the sidewalk – a few lewd stares and cat-calls in her wake.

A sly smile formed on her lips as she rounded the corner and entered a dark alleyway.

Tonight she would meet up with a new contact—well, new to her. Word was that this man had been around the underworld for a while now, making a name for himself. Sia's influence here was a whisper on the lips of many; a woman called Vash that had enigmatic ways. She dealt in secrets, disguises, and lying low. And stealing, lots of stealing.

Her slender form came to a stop at a street-side noodle bar, and she slid atop one of the empty bar stools. Behind the counter, a man was pulling handmade noodles to an alarming length. “Be with you in a minute, doll,” he said, tossing the fresh noodles into sizzling oil and working his magic with a wok.

“What'll you have?” he leaned on the counter, his eyes on Sia.

She narrowed her brown eyes at the menu and then looked up. “This one,” she said, pointing to an image of stir-fried noodles and vegetables. “Extra hot—I like it spicy.” Sia winked, momentarily disarming the chef.

With her back to the street, she turned a slightly paranoid glance over her shoulder.

Her contact–what was his name? Ray... or Roge... no, it was Rajo—would arrive soon. She'd given him her surname and a vague description of her appearance. But, she raised her voice to the chef, if Raj was nearby, he'd hear—“It's for Vash.”

Rajo Sobek Rajo Sobek
 

Rajo Sobek

Don't Sweat the Technique
The constant whine of airspeeders racing each other far above the walkways had always given him a sense of being at home. Even when he'd traveled lightyears across the galaxy he'd never truly left the industrial parks and ghettos behind. Some people found it suffocating but Raj certainly didn't. He lived for it. Every apartment block, every rickety old bar that somehow found enough credits to keep its doors open, and every stall that still housed whatever decent working men could be found down among the dregs of society circled back to one idea for the small-time boss. Power. It had never really been an option for a man like him to rise up the way that he had on Coruscant. Bonadan was a planet of strict control, especially since the riots that brewed up a few decades before he'd been born. There your choices sat between working sixteen-hour days and starving in the streets. They gave you a nice pension after thirty years though... Just enough to keep you going.

A smile crept across his lips as he went to light up another cigarette from his jacket.

"She's not coming, Boss. Let's get drunk."

He'd roll his eyes, regarding the simple-minded alien with a dismissive sigh.

"Must be the tenth time you've tried this, Lirk." he'd begin, searching his jacket pocket for a lighter that was running on empty. "And every time you ask, I gotta explain why we're out here sittin' in the muck."

With the cheap bit of plastic now in hand, he'd managed to light up fairly quickly, though by the way the flame came up he could tell it was on his last legs. He'd continue after taking a short drag, tossing the lighter away into the alley.

"She's the ticket to a big payday, Son. After we jack Paduk's stash we bounce back to our sector and make a night of it, but that don't happen till she gets here."

Sometimes he couldn't take the big guy seriously. Being an Aqualish one could never expect too much out of his thick skull, though. It seemed almost as if he were about to try to convince him again, but he stopped before he could shift those tusks about again. Something had caught his eye. They'd been relaxing beneath an awning just next to the stand waiting for this "Vash" to arrive.

"Boss, she pretty? Think it's her."

Turning the corner, Raj went to make sure. Hearing her say the last bit was all he needed, and soon enough this 'Vash' would find the two standing behind her looking as casual as anyone might down here.

As for appearances, there wasn't really anything remarkable about the way that he or his accomplice were dressed. A dull flight jacket and a dark pair of tech's trousers were the order of the day. His boots were probably a bit more heavy-duty than her own, but that was only because of the function they'd served back when he'd worked on the docks. He even sported a tee, but his was a rather faded affair that advertised some burger joint named "Teepo's" that was clearly a relic of a long lost life.


"You her, then?" he'd say, taking the liberty to give her a once over before looking over to Lirk who gave a few of his native clicks of approval.


Siala Vash
 

Siala Vash

Guest
S
While she waited for her meal, she reached into her pocket for a little compact and a bullet of lipstick. Popping the mirror open, she held it up to apply some bright red color to her lips. When her makeup was touched up, she angled the mirror to see over her shoulder. And she watched as two figures emerged and positioned themselves behind her.

“In the flesh,” she purred in affirmation and swiveled atop her stool to get a better look.

She returned his once over with one of her own, a charming smile on her lips as she silently scrutinized the man-- and his alien companion. This Rajo wasn't quite as tall as she normally liked, but he looked like he could hold up in a scrap. Siala had a thing for tough-guys; it offered her a level of protection. Her dark-lined eyes narrowed at the alien, and she looked to Rajo. “What's with the third wheel?”

Sure, she understood why he might bring along an associate. Strength in numbers and all that. But she didn't like it when those numbers did not add up in her favor, especially since they weren't yet on the same side.

The chef slid a plate of noodles down the bar to Sia and rubbed his fingers together to show that it was time to pay. Sia nodded towards Rajo, “He's payin— but you might as well open up a tab.”

She sent a little wink Raj's way.

“Why don't you sit down and buy a lady a drink, hmm?”

It was code for 'let's get down to business.' And for what it was worth, Sia had no intention of paying for her meal tonight—if Rajo paid, well that would be quite gentlemanly. Otherwise, she'd simply skip out on the bill when the chef was distracted.

Rajo Sobek Rajo Sobek
 

Rajo Sobek

Don't Sweat the Technique
"Can't be too careful, this ain't my sector." He'd explain, soon patting his much larger compatriot on the shoulder and jerking a thumb off into the street.

He'd wait until the creature stalked off into the night before he sat, sliding a couple of chips to the chef before turning his attention to Vash. His own brief inventory had told him one thing; she was dangerous. It wasn't the type of danger that made mothers shield their children from view; it was far worse than that. The way that her eyes fluttered and invited you to lose yourself in the depths of their natural beauty and the profound shade of rouge that caught the rays of streetlight in just the right way made her far more dangerous than any thug with a blaster. Had he not seen her type before, he might have fallen for the subtle movements that had probably worked to soften many a man before him. In short, she was tempting.


"Y'know, the rumors don't do you justice." he'd begin, all too happy to play into her game for the moment. "Stars knew what they were doin' when they dropped you in a place like this."

It was purposefully ambiguous, but that was probably a better compliment than the hoots and hollers she'd likely draw every time she opened her front door.

He took the opportunity of another quick drag to reflect on what he'd heard about her character, too. Word was that she wasn't to be trusted but that went for every piece of tail lower than 3300. The one thing that he'd heard, and probably the only reason he hadn't walked away yet, was that they were both after the same thing: Credits. Hopefully, the promise of five digits worth of the little buggers would hold her interest.

Siala Vash
 

Siala Vash

Guest
S
Sia watched as Rajo dismissed his alien friend. Though her countenance remained inscrutable behind her smile, she was inwardly pleased to see that he was a man of some authority. Good, she liked that. As had a seat, she swiveled on her stool to face the counter again. She deftly lifted a pair of chopsticks, but paused when the Rajo spoke.

Her blue eyes fixed him in a come-hither stare. “Is that so?”

Was it a compliment or was it a veiled slight? Either way, Siala felt her smile grow. She took a moment to study him. His appearance was fairly typical, spacer-chic as she called it jokingly. Rough around the edges, hard-worn. The peek of a scar on his neck was a promise of a 'good time.' And when she attempted to delve deeper, and read between the lines, she was taken aback. He was a tough read. The hard stare didn't betray much about what he was thinking, unlike so many of the men that came to eat so easily out of her palm.

Would he fall for her womanly wiles like the others? Well, she'd do her best to ensure that happened.

“I've heard about you, too,” she said, leaning towards him just so. “Word is that you have something I want.”

He'd paid for her meal, and the flash of chips had not gone unnoticed. The gleam of them on the counter was enough to hold her interest. His crew was small, as far as she knew, but she'd heard his name mentioned more than once down here. Pinching some noodles with the wooden chopsticks, she lifted it up for a ladylike bite.

“So,” Siala canted her head gently. “Is it true?”

Rajo Sobek Rajo Sobek
 

Rajo Sobek

Don't Sweat the Technique
It wasn't a new tactic for him and many others in his line of work to wear a stern face when talking business. Showing emotion to anyone that you didn't implicitly trust could reveal many things to a stranger. More than that, it could show them weaknesses. The last thing he wanted to do was show any interest in her, in specific.

"Possibly. Fifty-Large. Gang owned and well watched."

Of course, this could be a mistake. If Paduk and his crew got wind of this little heist then there'd be hell to pay, but as it stood he didn't have much reason to believe this little number was running with them. Once he'd revealed the figure, though, he was all too happy to let her lean in as close as she liked just so long as she didn't make any sudden movements. If she hadn't made it painfully obvious that her intentions may have lain a bit beyond this job, he might've thought he'd misjudged her.

As for her ability to woo him in any meaningful way, well, it was impossible to tell if she was having any effect on him at all. It seemed his principle desire at the moment was to talk about the job. He loved to see her try, though. He might've been smalltime but even the weakest ganglords still had their little posse of followers that stuck around to look for some easy credits. And they definitely weren't always women.

"If you're keen, we can talk on the way."

That offer came as he began to realize he might not want to draw too much attention from the owner of this little hole. Bosses had men everywhere, and there was certainly no telling if this "Noodle-Man" was one of them.


Siala Vash
 

Siala Vash

Guest
S
Siala watched as Rajo continued to play it straight. She didn't blame him—she was playing her own version—but she just wanted to see if he'd budge. And part of her had to give him credit for not crumbling at her feet (of course, she loved it when rich guys did). Her brow arched ever slightly when he mentioned a number—a very nice number.

Keen. Was she keen? Hell yes. But Siala kept an even keel and looked thoughtful for a moment or two as she took another bite of her meal. It was good, yes. But her mind was already flirting with the kinds of meals she could buy with some real credits. She'd been running on fumes now for a while and depended on her ability to con meals and drinks out of unsuspecting guys. And she'd been crashing in the basement of a restaurant (unbeknownst to the owner). It was only a matter of time before they discovered her snoozing amongst their supplies. These were desperate times. Though she'd never admit it, least of all to herself.

Picking a sleek black—Coruscanti Clove—cigarette from her pocket, she stuck it between her lips and lit up. “Yeah,” she said, and took a drag. “Let's do that.”

As Siala stood from her seat, she angled an inconspicuous glance over her shoulder again. Her own instincts were the same as his. Business was best discussed without drawing extra attention. She was always looking for those prying eyes; they seemed to follow her everywhere.

“Thanks for the grub,” she said, offering a small nod to the 'noodle-man.'

And when Rajo was on his feet too, she would take his arm in a casual fashion, but one that also suggested a friendly relationship. The other patrons seated at the noodle bar probably figured Rajo was about to get lucky. And in a way, maybe he really was.

Rajo Sobek Rajo Sobek
 

Rajo Sobek

Don't Sweat the Technique
Maybe it was the endless mystery of who Vash really was that kept Raj from bugging out of this trash heap of a sector. Each movement she made screamed that she came from a life of some elegance and decorum, but here she was running around in the underworld like a regular street rat. Anyone you talked to would claim that she got this far based on her 'assets' alone, but there must have been a bit more to the way she acted than that. For a moment, he almost considered she could be with the authorities, but his guys were good, they wouldn't send him out here with a cop... At least he hoped they wouldn't. Most of them were more than reliable; they were downright loyal, but who knew when the next rising star would try to make a play?

Despite his concerns, Raj made some effort to look pleased when she took hold of his arm once they'd both risen from the old stools. There was certainly worse company to have and if nothing else he'd made that chef a bit jealous. Tossing his own (far less enchanting) brand of cigarette towards the pavement, he began to lead her off into the network of alleyways and backstreets that crisscrossed the labyrinthic levels of the undercity.

Since they weren't too far from the stash there wasn't much need to hurry along down the street and that was just fine with him. He wanted to learn a bit more about her, if for no other reason than to determine whether or not she was actually on his side.

"Stash belongs to that old mug, Paduk." he explained, glancing over his shoulder at her. If he could only catch a glimpse of some sort of emotion he might be able to pin her down a bit better, but he knew that expecting anything more than the glib attitude he'd gotten so far was pretty wishful thinking at best.

"You know him?"

Siala Vash
 

Siala Vash

Guest
S
Siala walked at Rajo's side, a casual grace to her strides. And she kept her hold on his arm until they were safe in the back alleyways of the undercity. Slowly, her hand fell away from him and went back to her side. She had to admit that it was a little fun to make people uncomfortable; she didn't want to over-do it. He seemed like a good sport, though. As he spoke, she returned his sidelong glance with one of her own.

And her dark eyes squinted slightly in thought. She'd reached the point in her 'career' where most names sounded familiar, and she had to search the archives of her mind. After a moment, her expression registered some kind of recognition—subtle as it was, a gentle lifting of her brows.

“In a way,” she said, taking a long last drag of her cigarette before casting it away with a flick of her finger and sending a drift of clove-scented smoke Rajo's direction. “I did some work for him—long time ago. Well, not for him directly.

In other words, she hadn't met him in person. Back then, she was a nobody.

“You know, I'm pretty sure he shorted me,” she added with a sly grin. “I hope this makes up for it.”

Siala hid behind an ever-present smoke screen, but this was her way of affirming that she had no qualms about stealing from Paduk. In fact, she had no problems stealing—period. She figured Rajo already had some kind of plan in mind, he'd surely enlighten her when it was time. But for now, she was curious, too. Something brought Rajo to this sector—was it the credits... or something more?

“What about you?” She asked, canting her head. “Settling a score?”

Rajo Sobek Rajo Sobek
 

Rajo Sobek

Don't Sweat the Technique
A brow would raise at the admittance that she'd already come to know Paduk from some past job or whatever it might have been. Maybe it was something more than that. The thought that he might be rolling with one of that low life's spurned flings almost made him crack a smile. Either way, she seemed like she had no real interest in pulling a blaster on him and dropping him right there in the street, so he was content to go ahead and let her in on a little bit of his vision.

"Paduk's a no-good schutta who's on his way out, all he needs is a little push." he'd begin, quite sure that he shouldn't reveal everything. "Besides that?.. I need blasters and lots of 'em. Got a job comin' up that'll secure me much more than the hole in the wall that the boys post-up in."

It was all pretty non-specific, but that was the sort of rhetoric you'd always get in the undercity. He'd told her enough to know that he had credits on the brain, but this obviously wasn't a huge score to him. But then again, if it were, would he really be bringing along a perfect stranger? Well, the truth was he might...

"Won't lie to you, love; I sought you out specifically. Y'see, I've got it on good authority you can... Act? Not like in the holo-soaps, but somethin' like that."

Whatever he was getting at, it was certainly clear that this was no average smash-n-grab. Nevertheless, he'd gauge her reaction once again, hoping that this news wasn't too shocking to her. If it turned out that his boys had called up some ditz who had no idea how to sell a story then he'd have to send her packing. Something about her demeanor told him he'd found the right girl, though.

"How's bein' a Capo for a day sound?" he'd ask, his pace slowing down quite rapidly as he tugged at her to follow him towards one of the many dark alleys that were strewn about the sector. They were close, and he wanted to fill her in without all those prying eyes and ears from the street discovering what master plan he'd come up with.

Siala Vash
 

Siala Vash

Guest
S
Sia continued to fix Rajo in a sidelong glance, listening. And she took in more than just his words, but the meaning just below the surface, too. His tactics were familiar, she was of the same mind. Just give 'em enough to keep them interested, keep them... wanting.

“Holo-soaps,” she echoed, lips curving up into a smirk. And there might have been the faintest hint of laughter, as genuine as it could get. Her life was like a holo-drama what with the fiance that was trying to kill her and living on the run. It was ridiculous, but it definitely wasn't boring.

Her brows arched at the sound of his proposal.

And she was quiet until they stepped into the shadows of an alleyway. “Capo, huh?” A nonchalant shrug followed her words, but there was a flicker of a smile on her face. “Not a bad gig.”

Dark deals were made in places like this.

Standing in such close proximity, there was very little she'd miss—and him, too. Every look, every twitch, every tell... she was close enough to read it all. She fixed her blue eyes on him, searching. The siren song of credits was working its magic. And the veiled promise of more credits to come was irresistible. Siala canted her head slightly, ready to dig into this job.

“So, what exactly do you need me to do?”

Rajo Sobek Rajo Sobek
 

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