Public Quekko's Choice: Seven Corners (Darkwire and friends and passersby)

[Jerec Asyr]

​

Lum Rouge: a mercantile region of Seven Corners. Theoretically. In practice Lum Rouge was within spitting distance of being a red-light district, which suited Jerec just fine. Not that he partook, but he'd always rather liked the sex workers he'd known - excellent sabacc players - and everyone deserved a chance to own a nice pre-owned ship. And Lum Rouge got plenty of new customer exposure.

All that to say, when circumstances demanded he be elsewhere than he'd been, he'd uprooted Quekko's Choice and taken a really good deal on a backstreet lot in Lum Rouge. Someone had demolished a decrepit strip joint for whom 'location, location, location' had been a curse as pervasive as blending in with the crowd. But Quekko's stood out. Yes indeed. Pre-owned starships, most of them clean, sat in tidy rows. Rearranging them had helped him come to terms with the fact that a few of them probably would never find their forever homes, and should probably be sold for parts. He needed new stock. Fortunately, Denon was as good a place as any to find it.

The dealership was in a lull just now. Jerec sipped lum in that lull as he walked the lot, looking at new ways to rearrange these beautiful and only slightly corroded boats. He'd sold a shuttle this morning, but that high was fading fast.

 

["Sonny Choker"]

A tall, slender figure wearing a shapeless black coat and an unpleasant helmet entered the lot. They made a swift bee-line for Jerec and wasted no time in stating their needs: 'Something small, reliable and discreet,' a man's voice crackled through the voice amp of the helmet. 'What you got?'

It was hard to pin down exactly what it was, but if Jerec was familliar with the scent then he'd realise the customer had the faint smell of Mind Spiral on them.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Some might call the masked helmet unpleasant. Jerec thought it looked pretty cool. He set his can of lum aside and stood up. He recognized the smell but didn't give a crap what this guy did in his free time, as long as he wasn't some strung-out junkie trying to buy a ship with a tourist's kidneys.

"Small, reliable, discreet - I got just the thing. Couple of them, in fact."

He led "Sonny Choker" a little way down the line. First up was a sleek but unassuming bronzeish shuttle. Jerec patted the prow fondly.

"This one's the Bad Habat. Blazing fast when she needs to be, and that's just at sublight. She's got a point two five hyperspace rating, which you won't find outside of elite military gear. No guns, but she doesn't need'em. I've used her to make smuggling runs straight through the Sith Empire border more than once, but her engine readouts are staticked and scrubbed - she'll never so much as trip a buzzer for you, let alone call down any pain. Very discreet. Very fast. No guns, but she doesn't need'em. She's my baby and I'm only selling her because I could use the money."

The next boat in line was about the same size. "And this here's a custom Naboo patrol craft, the Blueshift. A little shinier, but won't turn too many heads or stand out in a crowd on a visual level. What they'll never know is she's got molecular shielding that eats incoming energy fire for breakfast - plus high-penetration short-range scanners for taking a real close look at things. Couple of lasers, couple of ions, automated twin laser turret, couple of warhead launchers to boot. Serious business, but most of that gear is tucked away - you'd never know to look at her that she had those kinds of teeth."

 

["Sonny Choker"]

Sonny followed closely, emitting the occasional click when his amp caught an exhale. He listened without a word and arms crossed as the salesman made his convincing pitch. Once presented with his options, he tutted in thought and took a few paces back and forward before the bronzy prow of the first offering, seemingly giving it an eye-over to make sure nothing was glaringly wrong with it -- could never be too careful in places like these.

'She's a bit fat, but think I'll be buying your baby. It was hard to be sure with the helmet on, but by his tone it would be safe to assume the man was grinning. 'If she flies well like you say, I think we can work something out. How much you want for her?'

( Jerec Asyr )

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Fat in all the right ways, friend." Jerec gave the shuttle a wistful sigh and named a downright reasonable price. The goal here was twofold: to get some traction with the local clientele, and to offset the cost of relocating Quekko's Choice from Corellia and Zonju and Port Mynock to this stretch of tarmac. He needed this sale, hence selling his boat.

Presumably after a little bit of haggling, they'd settle on something within the range that Jerec considered fair. Unless the friendly guy with the cool mask pulled a gun or something.

"Sonny Choker"

 

["Sonny Choker"]

'That's reasonable.' Sonny leaned his shoulder against the ship and readjusted his crossed arms. 'Really reasonable, actually. I'll take her, though if she gives me any trouble I'll have to pay a visit. And I don't want to have to do that.' After a long pause his amp clicked and he then continued, changing the conversation, seeming to find much more interest in talking about Jerec than his wares. 'I'm guessing you're a pretty good pilot if you're the smuggler you said you are, or were.'

( Jerec Asyr )

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Jerec had always run Quekko's Choice out of places where the casual threat stood in place of a warranty, and took it in stride.

"I can fly," he said, doing up the Bad Habat's bill of sale on his datapad. "A good smuggling run's more about planning and picking your risks, but I can move when it counts. I'm a Spacer Guild rep, so I can put you in touch with all kinds of top pilots. What kind of pilot you looking for?"

He presented "Sonny Choker" with the extremely basic and noninvasive bill of sale for payment authorization.

"The amount's in Authority Cash Vouchers, but I can handle actual cash if that's what you have."

 

["Sonny Choker"]

Sonny uncrossed his arms to wave away the pad. He then reached into the inner pockets of his black coat to fetch cash, of which there appeared plenty if not a little extra. 'Interesting. As for the sort I might be after? Likes plenty of credits and keeping his mouth shut... Mister?-'

( Jerec Asyr )

 

[Jerec Asyr]

The cash disappeared. Jerec bid a silent farewell to the Bad Habat.

"I'm Jerec Asyr - Quekko's Choice is my place. If you're after a pilot with those kinds of...qualifications, here."

He tucked the datapad away, sale finalized, and pulled out a little notepad. Non-electronic, and thus unsliceable. A hard sheet went under the top piece of paper to prevent impressions going on the next layer. He scribbled a quick list.

Ar'tal Ktruok
Galen Arterius
Jorco Czeku
Kelsie Sylvan
Kole Eckttor
Liam Sedaire
Orson Jade
Hal Vaiken
Zivos

He handed the list to "Sonny Choker"

"Here, any one of these folks might be worth asking. They're all pilots or smugglers, folks who know their business. I can vouch for about half of'em; the others are friends of friends. Ask around in any spaceport watering hole and you might bump into one of'em or someone who knows how to get in touch."

 

[Doc Painless]

On a planet of a trillion people, who you knew was all-important. And in his neighborhood, the Doc liked to know everyone.

The man known only as Doc Painless hadn't been on Denon for long yet, but he'd made himself thoroughly at home in the Seven Corners district; in a few standard months, he'd already become a local fixture. He'd walked the streets of each neighborhood, shopping in the stores, eating in the restaurants, striking up conversation with the locals. He'd worked hard to spread his reputation as friendly, reliable, and discreet, and it'd paid off. People here knew that, if you wanted to get patched up or cyber-enhanced "off the record", you went to Doc Painless.

Knowing the streets kept the Doc safe, too. Where there was poverty, there was desperation, and where there was desperation, there was crime. Beneath the glitzy lights of Sakedo Tower, people knew that principle all too well. But the Doc knew the local swoop gangers, drug pushers, kidnappers, and pimps. He knew their territories, their rivalries, and their triggers. He wasn't a fighting man, so he used that information to keep himself - and other locals - out of the line of fire. Knowing it also made him a damn good fixer when the need arose.

But for knowledge and connections to mean anything, they had to stay current. That meant constantly making the rounds, talking to people about the latest news and gossip, checking in on them, their families, and their businesses. It also meant that, when someone brought something new to the neighborhood, the Doc needed to do more than just take notice; he needed to go make that new connection. That was what brought him down to Lum Rouge that day, under the glow of red lamps and racy neon signs, to the secondhand starship dealership.

The Doc returned the waves of the streetwalkers, ignoring their good-natured taunts - "still letting that special enhancement get rusty, Doc?" - as he headed down the street toward Quekko's Choice. His cybernetic eyes took in the rows of refurbished ships, noting the details. They were clearly secondhand, but also clearly well-restored; he could respect that. The Doc was no pilot or engineer, but he knew quality when he saw it. After looking around for a moment, he spotted the proprietor speaking with a strangely-masked man.

The Doc waited patiently for a lull in their conversation, then stepped up to greet them. "Doc Painless," he said, offering his hand to shake. "Welcome to Seven Corners. It's a nice place you've got here."

Jerec Asyr | "Sonny Choker" ​

 

["Sonny Choker"]

The customer plucked the paper out of Jerec's hand. 'Thanks, Asyr. Name's Sonny. Will keep your list in mind. Been good doing business with you. Maybe we'll see each other again.'

Sonny turned to the new arrival. He paused and studied him for a moment before offering out his hand to be shaken, albeit briefly -- the Doc might feel the the hardness of knuckle-duster plating beneath Sonny's black gloves.

'Sonny,' he said, nodding to the man's altered eyes. 'Nice netics.'

Jerec Asyr | Doc Painless

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Take care, friend," Jerec said to "Sonny Choker" - "And thanks for your business."

He turned his attention to Doc Painless and shook the offered hand. "Just matching the town. Always loved Seven Corners when I've visited, and when I got the chance to pick up this lot, I couldn't say no. I'm Jerec Asyr, perpetrator - I mean, proprietor - of Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium. How can I meet your needs today?"

 

[Doc Painless]

You could tell a lot about a person within the first minute of meeting them, and the Doc was keen to learn about both of these men. There were your first sensory impressions. The masked man had a whiff of Mind Spiral about him, and a modified voice to go with the mask. The other man had a relaxed, joking air, conspicuously unconcerned by everything around him - but he looked like he could handle himself if it came to that. Then there were handshakes; the masked man's had a weapon in it, while the other was open, casual. Interesting.

The Doc nodded at the first man. "A pleasure," he said, though it wasn't; this guy looked like trouble, someone who could turn dangerous in a heartbeat if he thought you'd crossed him. There were a lot of characters like that in Seven Corners, people the Doc was careful to avoid pissing off. He wondered how long the man planned to stay; adding another hardened street tough like this to the mix would readjust the whole balance of power before long, if he stuck around. "And thank you. If you're looking for some of your own, here's my card."

He passed Sonny a holographic business card with his comm frequency emblazoned on it; best to be polite to potential customers.

The Doc turned and shook Jerec's hand, switching his focus while still keeping watch on Sonny in his peripheral vision. "Well, it's good to meet you, Mister Asyr. Another stable business in Lum Rouge is a good thing to see; the last place to claim this lot wasn't the best-managed. As you can probably tell, given that it's now cooling slag beneath your starship lot." He grinned and stepped back, looking around at Quekko's Choice, taking in the selection. "You may be something of a draw to the neighborhood. The locals will thank you."

He didn't, of course, have any "needs" that Jerec could meet at the moment. He seldom left Denon, and he couldn't have afforded a ship even if he'd wanted one. Just about every credit he had was poured back into his clinic, which was always a struggle to keep running; other than the work he did for shadowrunners, whose level of wealth fluctuated like the tide with every job gone well or badly, he mostly treated the cripplingly poor, and that wasn't the best model for turning a profit. "Nothing for me at the moment, thank you," he replied, smiling.

"Just making the rounds, rolling out the welcome mat. But if there's anything you need as you get settled, I'd be glad to help." He tipped an imaginary hat at the starship dealer. "We'll all be interested to see what kind of business you... perpetrate."

"Sonny Choker" | Jerec Asyr ​

 

["Sonny Choker"]

Sonny's amp clicked as he tutted his approval and took the card. He slipped it alongside Jerec's paper in a shadowy inner pocket of his coat: 'Good to know, Doc. See you around.'

He gave a last nod to Jerec before going to look over his purchase and prepare for leaving, which he would if no one were to stop him. He'd got all he'd come for.

Doc Painless | Jerec Asyr

​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Well, it's good to meet you, Mister Asyr. Another stable business in Lum Rouge is a good thing to see; the last place to claim this lot wasn't the best-managed. As you can probably tell, given that it's now cooling slag beneath your starship lot." He grinned and stepped back, looking around at Quekko's Choice, taking in the selection. "You may be something of a draw to the neighborhood. The locals will thank you."

He didn't, of course, have any "needs" that Jerec could meet at the moment. He seldom left Denon, and he couldn't have afforded a ship even if he'd wanted one. Just about every credit he had was poured back into his clinic, which was always a struggle to keep running; other than the work he did for shadowrunners, whose level of wealth fluctuated like the tide with every job gone well or badly, he mostly treated the cripplingly poor, and that wasn't the best model for turning a profit. "Nothing for me at the moment, thank you," he replied, smiling.

"Just making the rounds, rolling out the welcome mat. But if there's anything you need as you get settled, I'd be glad to help." He tipped an imaginary hat at the starship dealer. "We'll all be interested to see what kind of business you... perpetrate."

"Well, you ever need a ship or airspeeder, drop by anytime. We can fit any needs, any budget." Admittedly, the speeder stock wasn't great just now - but Jerec had started off as a speeder bike mechanic, and Denon seemed like the kind of place where repulsor vehicles that Fit Certain Profiles could sell like Huttese hotcakes.

And speaking of-

"As for the location, I'm loving it. Lots of great folks around. Got any recommended diners that serve a decent breakfast?" It was well past noon right now, so far as he could tell in the Seven Corners smog. He needed, desperately needed, a good solid diner-style breakfast tomorrow. His morning had centred on a reconstituted burrito.

 

[Doc Painless]

The Doc offered Sonny a nod. "Be safe out there." Though he was pretty sure whoever crossed the guy would be the unsafe one.

"Any budget, huh? You'll be popular around here." The Doc wondered if that particular guarantee meant that Jerec planned to sell stolen vehicles through the place. He didn't particularly care either way; pretty much everyone in his life, the Doc himself included, made a living breaking CAD law. Still, it would pay to know if the merchandise here was hot. If Corpo rent-a-cops or angry former owners came to Seven Corners looking to reclaim stolen property, a shoot-out was likely - and the Doc's services would be needed.

The street medic smiled at Jerec's description of the neighborhood. It had its problems - any business in Lum Rouge would do well to invest in an experienced and bulky bouncer, given the drunk and high tourists that patronized the red light district - but for the most part, people looked out for each other. "Sure, let me think. Lum Rouge isn't the easiest place to find breakfast, more of a nightlife neighborhood, but..." He considered the options, casting his mind around for somewhere you could get a decent morning meal without having to go too far.

"Well, there's the 'Morning After' a couple of blocks from here. It's next to a couple of the motels that rent rooms by the night, rather than the hour, so... There's a bit of demand. Recaf is good, not sure about the food." He offered an apologetic shrug. "Tell you what, I'll buy. Call it a welcome gift, and if it's terrible, you won't be out any credits for it." If Jerec was going to be running a business here in Seven Corners, it'd be a good idea to work on making that connection... and on figuring out just how much heat he was bringing with him.

Jerec Asyr | "Sonny Choker" ​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Well, there's the 'Morning After' a couple of blocks from here. It's next to a couple of the motels that rent rooms by the night, rather than the hour, so... There's a bit of demand. Recaf is good, not sure about the food." He offered an apologetic shrug. "Tell you what, I'll buy. Call it a welcome gift, and if it's terrible, you won't be out any credits for it." If Jerec was going to be running a business here in Seven Corners, it'd be a good idea to work on making that connection... and on figuring out just how much heat he was bringing with him.

"I'll take you up on that another time - got half a day's work ahead of me. A younger pre-owned-ship-salesman would say yes in a heartbeat, but me, I'm lean, mean, and in the mood to sell shuttlepods."

Jerec cast a glance over the ship lot. Nobody in sight but a couple of his offbrand security droids. He wilted slightly.

"So you go by Doc? As in medical? What's your operation around here?"

 

[Doc Painless]

The Doc shrugged, secretly more than a little relived that he wasn't going to have to try the food at the Morning After. Or indeed show up there with someone else at all; rumors might fly, and he didn't need to give the local prostitutes any more ammunition to taunt him with. The fact that no one knew anything about his actual family or love life didn't keep any of the locals from speculating or, among the more imaginative and less scrupulous, making up whatever rumors they thought would bring them attention. It was the price of keeping his secrets.

"Fair enough," he replied with a chuckle; he couldn't fault Jerec's dedication or enthusiasm. "With an attitude like that, I'm sure you'll turn yourself a good profit in no time." The man was older than the Doc, with maybe ten years on him, but he still seemed to have a youthful exuberance about him. His humor and positivity were infectious, and the Doc found himself hoping that Seven Corners wouldn't beat that out of him. A few months under the heel of the Corporate Authority, let alone a few years, seemed to do that to most folks.

"More of an unofficial title," the Doc replied with a shrug. "You won't find me licensed to practice medicine on Denon, or anywhere else for that matter. But I know my way around a scalpel and a hypo, so plenty of local chummers come to me to get patched up when they need it. I stitch vibroblade cuts, I soothe and synthskin blaster burns, and I install cyberware for those that want or need it." He produced another business card emblazoned with his holofrequency and passed it to Jerec. "Hopefully you'll never need me, but..."

He shrugged again. "If you get shot and don't want to get logged or overcharged at a Corpo hospital, don't be a stranger."

Reaching into the inside pocket of his long leatheris jacket, the Doc produced a cigarra and tucked it into the corner of his mouth. The tip of his left index finger flipped backward, revealing a tiny integrated machine that quickly produced a flame. He casually raised it to the end of the cigarra, lighting it, then flicked the finger back into place. "Bad habit, I know" he said, "but it helps with the stress." He offered Jerec the pack, in case he shared this particular vice. "And you? I'm always curious what brings folks to Seven Corners."

Jerec Asyr ​

 

[Darth Daiara]

Aradia glanced over her shoulder as she stepped in, a bit of an edge to her movements as she looked around. She had never bought a ship before, but bottom line was she was going to need one. She skimmed the lot, credit stick bouncing in her hand, as she tried fuss out which might be best.

Well that one looked ... cleaner? That other one had a pleasant shape. With no context towards what she was looking at, the red head drifted forward. Cotton robes, young face, credit chip. What more was there to see?

She craned her head around the barrel of a ship's gun, waiting patiently for sign of life inside the ship yard.

... Or she could always just... take it. She glanced under for a glimpse of a door.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Doc Painless 's business card disappeared as quickly as the masked gangster's cash a few minutes back.

"Was hoping you were something along those lines. I've used plenty of street docs' services here and there. As for what brings me here..."

Jerec trailed off as he spotted Darth Daiara poking around one of his beloved boats.

"...customers. Listen, Doc, I gotta take this, but I'll see you around."

He made a beeline for the girl. Judging by the quality clothes, the looks, the neighborhood, maybe a madam's rich kid or a high-proced call girl.

He reevaluated that assessment as he got closer. She was younger than he'd thought, and scars peeked out from under her robes. And he felt just a whisper of the Dark Side.

An enigma. But most likely an enigma with a credit chit.

"Welcome to Quekko's Choice," he said. "I'm Jerec Asyr - what kind of ship can I get for you? Guns, guts, glam, something with history?"