Private Friends in Low Places

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

"You shoot first, I shoot better."​

Nar Shaddaa. The Smuggler's Moon. Filthy, loud, and always buzzing with the scent of desperation and credits. Kinley Pryse stepped through the door of the cantina like she owned the place. Black boots dusted with grit, long coat hanging loose at her sides, and eyes that scanned the room like scanners on a hot ship. The air inside was thick with smoke and the stench of old spice and older regrets. Perfect.

Word on the street was someone was looking to purchase a lot of spice. The word spread throughout the smugglers moon but not too quietly. And Kinley had a cargo hold itching to be emptied. She spotted him in the back booth, alone, cloaked in shadow, sipping something expensive like he didn't care who noticed. Human… or close enough. Dark eyes, darker expression. The kind of man who either had a lot of credits or a death wish. Sometimes both. She didn't hesitate. Just sauntered over, pulled a blaster-scarred chair around with the toe of her boot, and dropped into it backward, arms over the backrest, one brow raised underneath her iconic hat.

"Mind if I cut in?" she said, flashing a grin sharp enough to nick glass. "Heard you're looking for something that burns?"


Ragos Terrek

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Ragos Terrek]

"Chit, I might be." Ragos told the stranger who'd taken the seat across from him like they'd planned to meet here. They hadn't. Chit, If Ragos hadn't seen her coming over in his periphery, if she'd actually managed to get the jump on him, this cantina woulda got hot. "Who's asking?" Ragos took his hand off the heater laying hidden under the napkin in his lap. Heater, being a snub nose hold out blaster, some outta spec piece of bantha chit, but at this range it'd for sure get the job done.

Ragos wasn't really the type'a mutha sucka that normally reached for the heat from the jump. He ain't ever had a problem throwing hands with somebody when the chit called for it, not that this situation even called for that much.

Nah, Ragos swung heat when chit called for it, he weren't no punk but he sure as hell wasn't the type'a sucka to pull down on an attractive woman for giving him her attention, which happened more often than you'd think, often enough to even surprise Ragos. There was no doubt either that this chick sitting in the seat the wrong way was attractive, even in the dim smokey cantina, and the shadow of the corner booth he'd chosen specifically for its broken overhead lighting, Ragos could see that. She was a hottie. That didn't really put Ragos at ease, if anything it got him even more worked up just in a different way.

Why did Ragos feel that it was necessary to keep his hand in his gun when chatting up some girl at a bar? Cuz this bar was on Nar Shaddaa, Ragos adopted home, the place he'd truly grown up, but it was also the home of the Killa Korunai, Ragos adopted family, until they turned on him, him being back here of all places was some dumbass chit. He knew it was on sight if any of his old peoples caught him out here, he wouldn't even have time to beg before he died, and that's why he kept a grip on the heat.

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

"The good news is, they missed. The bad news is, they noticed."​

"Who's asking?"

"Someone with a lot of seasoning that needs to find a home." She sat back in her booth, acting cool as a cucumber though she knew he had a gun trained on her. Hell most folks did business at blaster point on this planet.

"I've got enough Polstine for you to be the life of the party. If the price is right."

She wasn't kidding. Her cargo hold was currently full of the stuff and Flint needed her to get rid of it and turn a profit. Kinely hadn't seen this particular dealer around before, meaning he probably wasn't with Black Sun. That was fine by her. As long as his credits came she could care less about his background. She wasn't in this business to make friends, just money.

Ragos Terrek

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Ragos Terrek]

"Bantha chit you do." Ragos said, kissing his teeth.

Was he really supposed to buy this chit? Yeah, Ragos put word out for some junk, he was careful doe, his name, both his names, legal and street, weren't used, chit he had went far to start by putting word out through his boy in lock up on Coruscant, and now he was buying his chit on Nar Shaddaa, he couldn't be more removed from this chit if he tried but just cuz he couldn't think of how to be more careful ain't mean that he was careful enough.

He weren't worried that she was authorities or some chit, ain't no real cops on Nar Shaddaa, only ones who kept the gangsters that paid them whole. Chit that might be her, she could work for some Hutt or fething Black Sun or some chit but she weren't two-K and that was good by him. Still, he was not comforted by her desperation to move her chit, it just made chit reek like a trap.

Polstine was good fething spice. A brick or two of that chit, and where ever he set up shop would be popping in no time. That chit was expensive for, and he ain't even believe she really had it.

Ragos looked around the cantina, trying to spot anyone too interested in his conversation, or anyone trying too hard to not be interested.

Ragos had settled on this woman being bait. She was gonna distract him with offers of spice or whatever and then he was finna lose his head or worse, his credits.

"Let's taste that seasoning you got, den."

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

"I'm not wanted in one system, I'm a universal favorite."
​

Kinley could practically hear the gears shifting in the guys head. She'd clearly rattled him by just sitting down like this but subtly wasn't exactly her strong suite. She grinned at his unease, though she certainly hadn't meant to cause it. Who was he on the run from, she wondered. Shoot everyone here was running from something on this planet.

"Relax Hoss. If I wanted to rob you I wouldn't have sat down first."

She reached into her long duster slow like, not wanting to get shot by that blaster he had trained on her. A moment latter she pulled out a small vile, enough for just a taste but not enough to get him too high to do this deal. She rolled it across the table to him and then sat her hand back on the table, real slow like.

This deal was on the up and up, well as much as a drug deal could be. If he looked at the vile though he'd see the Black Sun insignia, a subtle reminder of who he was getting in bed with. Crossing Kinley Pryse would not end well for anybody.


Ragos Terrek

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Ragos Terrek]

Ragos kissed his teeth again. A small snort of amusement may have been drowned out by the sounds of the cantina as he rolled his eyes at the woman, this supposed dealer, across from him. Ragos Terrek was not the smartest mutha sucka around the way but he weren't stupid neither.

Only an idiot woulda drawed down on him demanding he empty his pockets right here at the table. Even in Nar Shaddaa that was considered poor form on any level with a number lower than a hundred. Chit, Ragos was worried about getting robbed anyway. Ragos knew from experience, having run similar game in his time, that a pretty woman, hell any woman, was perfect bait to lower a marks defenses and once that guy thought he was taking that woman home, got damn did that make it easy to snatch em up, shake em down, or smoke em.

Ragos wasn't interested.

"Yeah right," he told her.

Ragos watched her like a nexu as the lady reached into her duster. Her hand was inside for not even a second and once returned to view was holding a vial of what looked like star dust.

Ragos inhaled his breath catching in his chest and not coming back out. This was real chit. Actual polstine. Ragos took his hand from the heat in his lap and took up the vial inspecting it closely, his eyes falling immediately on the symbol engraved on the vial.

Fucking Black Sun he thought no longer holding his breath. Was Ragos really stupid enough to get himself involved with another major syndicate like this? Chit, getting involved with The Family had cost him fucking everything, his life nearly included in that. If he never got mixed up with them fools he wouldn't be sitting here now having to make a choice to do it all over again.

Scared money don't make money.

Ragos popped the top to the vial and poured a touch of the powder on the back of his hand and took a quick but deep snort of the powder up his nose. The effect was instant. His whole everything lit up like they were made outta stars. He felt like he was gonna float right out the seat and out the roof of this chit until he was in space.

"Gotdamn that kicks!" He said, involuntarily shaking his head like a dog with a bee up its nose.

"How much you trying to move and what's it cost?"

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Relax, I'm the kind of trouble that delivers

​

She saw the gears turning in his head and offered a lopsided smile. He looked like the kind of man who knew women could be dangerous, and Kinley Pryse? She was the worst kind of dangerous: the kind you couldn't resist until it was too late.

He shook his head, like a dog trying to get water out of its ears, and she watched with a smirk as realization dawned. The quality hit him fast, just like she knew it would. Sometimes she moved junk. Not today. Today's product? Pure poison. The kind that didn't need a pitch.

Confident now that no one was reaching for a blaster, she slid her hand back into her jacket, smooth, but quicker than before, and tossed the datapad onto the table. It displayed the inventory and the price per ounce, plain and clean.

"Best deal you'll find in these parts," she said, leaning back just a little. "Especially for spice this pure."


Ragos Terrek

A Smooth Criminal