Job-Hunting

[Vandros]

The standard Corellian freighter set down in the Mos Eisley spaceport with expert guidance, coming to a soft halt on the metal floors with a small thud, followed by the hissing of hydraulics kicking in to keep the ship upright. Its pilot stood from his captain's chair and stretched his weary muscles, yawning loudly before turning to leave the cockpit, grabbing his gray, wide-brimmed hat from a hat rack on the way out. Leaning down halfway down the hallway, he picked up his long, brown duster coat and slipped it on over his torso, and finally made the last turn leading down the exit ramp of the ship.

Vandros looked around the crowded spaceport for a few moments, taking note of all the people around him, before pulling a remote device from one of his many pockets and using it to close the ramp of his ship. No ship-jacking for anyone in this spaceport today. Not unless they wanted to meet Sanguine, his tried-and-true companion, also known as a blaster of his own design. Stowing the device back in his jacket, he reached into another pocket on the opposite side of his coat and pulled out a datapad, and took a few moments to put out an ad for anyone looking for a freight hauler or courier. That done, he stowed the datapad away, then placed his wide-brimmed hat on top of his head and began making his way out of the spaceport.

Naturally, the freighter captain made his way to the nearest cantina for a drink... or three. Who was counting? He settled into one of the darker, but more open, corner booths and hiked his feet up on the table, its center light casting a glow on the soles of his boots. He placed his order with one of the wandering servers, then leaned back and brought his hands together behind his head. Now all he had to do was play the waiting game.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

It didn't take long 'fore Danger to know he was on her turf.

'Course, considering how they parted ways, that wouldn't be too far off. Freezing your nethers on Hoth was never the most pleasing of things. 'Course, it did make way for an interesting parting of ways.

A smirk ever so lingered upon Danger's lips as she gave a nod towards one of the Trandoshan workers she had.

"Bring Kamdin over... We've got history to catch up on..." the last was said with a fading chuckle, the green skinned Trandoshan giving a slight incline of his head before he left.

Later...

"You, human. Come with me." came the rather grouchy growl of Sk'ak, a towering Trandoshan that stood well over 7 feet. Thick arms made the bulk of his frame, as did the huge techblade that was holstered at his back.

His short terse words offered no quarrel, but one doesn't normally argue with a Trandoshan.

Do they?

 

[Vandros Kamdin]

Vandros wasn't one to be normal. He tilted his head back to remove the brim blocking his view of the Trandoshan. Instead of complying immediately, he tilted his head back down. "Beat it, lizard. Unless yer here t' discuss business, I ain't got a reason t' go anywhere with ya," he returned to the Trandoshan. He looked up again as his server came back with his three bottles of Corellian whiskey, which he promptly took one of and brought it to his lips for a long, appreciative pull of the delightful alcohol.

 

[Verine Kazimir]

Gods, I've been break for how long? It seems like I've been away forever... Her thoughts carried her as she cantina, not too long after the Trandoshan that had entered before her. Her "employer", as she liked to consider the red headed woman in charge of her own Trading Company, was in a bit of a nostalgic mood, it seemed, and it was time to recover the one man that she wasn't too terribly fond of seeing again, not for any reason other than she considered him a bit too odd. This was going to get good.

"Beat it, lizard. Unless yer here t' discuss business, I ain't got a reason t' go anywhere with ya."

You can talk to a Trandoshan that way, is that so? Maybe you've gotten tougher. The corner of her left lip curled into a bit of a wry smirk; this was becoming far, far more entertaining than she had even bargained for, especially since it had been so, so long since she'd been on "active" duty. Slow strides took her toward the center of the room where the smuggler was apparently standing up to the larger, and clearly more menacing alien, which seemed as though, he could rip the smuggler in two if he wished it.

Stepping out from behind the Trandoshan, she looked over toward Mr. Kamdin, and gave him a deadpan stare, clearly not in any sort of mood to play games. "You heard Sk'ak," she said simply at first, before continuing rather abruptly. "Get your ass in gear, Mr. Kamdin. The boss wants to speak to you." Not only was she not about to give the name of the boss, as she knew better than to give away such vital information, but it would be absolutely amazing to her, to see how Kamdin would respond to such a demand.

"And if you don't get your ass in gear, we just might have a bit of a problem." The deadpan stare continued for just a few moments more before she stepped over to the side of Mr. Kamdin and gave a slight nod toward the bartender, "A bloodsour to go."

 

[Vandros]

Vandros lowered his bottle and narrowed his eyes at the new alien to 'grace' his presence. She seemed familiar, somehow, but he couldn't, nor did he care to, place his finger on it. He grumbled incoherently for a moment, then took another pull from the bottle before setting it back down on the table gently.

"And if you don't get your ass in gear, we just might have a bit of a problem."

"Well, darlin', trouble always did have a way o' findin' itself to me. I think I'll take my chances this time aroun' an' jus' see what happens if I 'don't get my ass in gear,'" he responded, and merely sat back in his booth a little further, reaching out for his bottle with his left hand, his right non-chalantly making its way down to the blaster holstered on his right hip. He wasn't exactly the quickest gun in the galaxy, but he could damn sure pull faster than some brute chick with an attitude problem. The Trandoshan didn't concern him much, if at all. He knew their kind all too well, given his experiences in the past. "O' course, all o' this c'n be avoided if y' tell me who yer boss is an' why they didn' come speak to me personally."

 

[Verine Kazimir]

The look on her face was a very deadpan stare, she didn't flinch, nor did she make any other movements when he refused to go with. Looking over toward the trandoshan, however, she just gave a bit of a nod. Time was running short, and she had a job to accomplish; what was she going to have to do to get him to go? Whatever it took. She wasn't about to just fail on her one mission--no matter how simple it was.

"O' course, all o' this c'n be avoided if y' tell me who yer boss is an' why they didn' come speak to me personally."

"No." She replied simply, not because she couldn't divulge that information, but because it would just be so, so much simpler if he just joined with, to go see the boss. After a few more moments of waiting, she let out a small sigh of discontent. "It's the 'Redhead'." She finally admitted, looking over toward the trandoshan again for a second, then back to the smuggler at the bar. "The one that, I believe, you were working with on Taris for a while."

"I told you who it was, now come with me." With that, she reached out in an attempt to grasp his upper arm with her left hand, and gave him that same deadpan stare, clearly not playing any games. "There's a transport available, or we can hitch a ride on your ship." The almost cold and calculated tone continued to resonate throughout the bar.

"If you still refuse," she continued, still with that grasp on his arm, "my trandoshan friend, and my other friend," she nodded toward the DLA-13 Heavy Blaster Rifle on the right side of her back, "will have to give you a little bit of motivation."

 

[Vandros]

"It's the 'Redhead'. The one that, I believe, you were working with on Taris for a while."

Vandros brought a hand up to his chin and began rubbing it in thought for a moment, working over those minimal details in his head. He'd worked with this person before, had he? On Taris? He couldn't recall being on Taris anytime recently, so it must have been some time ago. A redhead... Did she mean orange red or cherry red? Redhead, worked on Taris together, owns a company on Tatooine that he's worked for in the past... He was just about to put the pieces together when suddenly he felt a new pressure on his arm. His gaze drifted slowly over toward the woman's hand, then up to her face, his brown eyes staring into hers.

"If you still refuse, my trandoshan friend, and my other friend, will have to give you a little bit of motivation."

"Now, ma'am, I ain't done anythin' t' deserve you tryin'a force me t' go anywhere. Now, 'fore I decide to take yer arm an' snap it, I suggest y' unhand me," Vandros stated in his most dry, displeased tone, his eyes never leaving the woman's. "Now then, gimme one more detail 'fore this goes any further. This 'redhead' yer talkin' 'bout. She kin'a short, short fuse like a firecracker, an' most often described as 'dangerous'? Las' name... Arceneau?"