Private Payment Must be Made

[Tsiflam]

SETTING: Asylum : Criminal Shadowport
TAGS: Braze

Tsiflam would never usually be this far out from the grime of Port Nowhere but the reward money for this debtor was enough to persuade him of the importance of moving around in the Criminal Underworld.

Asylum was a shadowport but one that had lost its importance to the major outfits like the Black Sun and the Pyke Syndicate which meant it was prime territory for those looking to make a name for themselves. We weren't talking big leagues here but enough to scare people when you walk past.

The Devaronian adjusted his dirty brown jacket over his shoulder as the large horns on his head pulled in the meager light from a nearby flickering sign. Making him look less like a gangster and more of a patient demon on the hunt.

A simple hiss of the door was all that announced his arrival in this particular hive of scum and villainy. He stopped at the table where Greesk, the Rodian debtor, was trying to become part of the wall.

The subtle hum of Halfjack stitched to his back was the only sound Greesk could hear over his own pounding heart.

There was a slight tilt of his head as the IG droid's chatter flooded his earpiece. "Target located. Probability of Host failure is 94% if engagement involves lethal force. Recommend leveraging target's known asset, the freighter Misty Dawn." Tsiflam ignored the data, planting his massive hand on the table, crushing a damp cocktail napkin.

"Greesk," he said, the voice a low, casual rumble. "Let's talk about the Planter's investment."

Greesk started stammering, his antennae flickering wildly. "It was bad luck! The shipment--"

He cut him off with a low, chilling chuckle. "Luck is for chumps. Now, I see the lever on your face. It's fear. But I need something tangible."

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tsiflam

Outsourcing materials was one of the small hurdles Braze needed to overcome. Not all equipment was easy to just go out and buy or even barter for these days. He'd have to make do with what he could, where he could.

He'd found himself stopping at the shadowport of Asylum, searching for a few key components he needed for his project back on Veridia. Fortunately, the Black Sun had interests elsewhere at the moment, allowing him to move through the port at his leisure.

After hours of navigating the chaotic maze of stalls and hangars, Braze had taken refuge in a cantina to grab a quick bite and a drink to refuel.

Unfortunately, peace never seemed to last long in places like this. Some Devaronian thug was looming over a scatter-brained Rodian, the kind of trouble that tended to unravel quickly.
Braze was quiet initially as he observed the man... and his… droid? Seemingly fused to his back. Not every fight was worth picking, but the instinct to protect and intervene still tugged at his heartstrings. He glanced around, gauging the distance to every possible exit as the mood in the room began to shift.

For once, he wasn't itching for a fight… but he also wasn't about to sit by and watch someone get crushed right in front of him.

"You're making a scene. You mind keeping it down? Some of us are trying to eat."

 

[Tsiflam]

SETTING: Asylum : Criminal Shadowport
TAGS: Braze

The low rumble of his own voice had barely finished echoing when the new flat tone cut through the stale cantina air. He didn't immediately look at the speaker. Instead, he let the silence stretch for a moment, forcing the interruption to hang awkwardly and giving the Rodian, Greesk, another agonizing chance to reconsider his options.

Tsiflam finally turned his massive head slowly, his horns catching the faint blue glow from the back corner.

He found the man or boy from the looks of it cleaner than most of Asylum's scum, sitting too far from the entrance for someone who clearly didn't belong. A hungry person, judging by the statement as the Devaronian filed this observation away in his brain, already noting the distance between the stranger and his holsters should things turn violent.

The IG unit didn't wait for a verbal prompt. A burst of data clicked in his inner ear. "New Hostile detected. Male, mid-range kinetic signature, elevated heart rate indicative of moral conviction. Recommend immediate non-lethal disengagement." Tsiflam suppressed a sigh. He looked down the length of the cantina table at the man, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Tsiflam's voice was softer now, almost polite. "If the view is spoiling your appetite, maybe buy a bandana on your way out. Wrap it around your head. Saves you the trouble of watching."

He pulled his hand off the table, the ruined napkin sticking momentarily before peeling away. He let his gaze drift back to the sweating Rodian. "See, Greesk? You are disturbing the customers within this venue. Pay up, or this nice fella here is going to have to watch a Rodian be added to the menu."