First Reply Ring of Kafrene: Business (Not) as Usual

[Nova Casamyr]

Just once, Nova wished they'd pull into a port that was nice enough to warrant wearing a dress. She couldn't remember the last time she had really let her hair down, put in the time on her makeup, and took a day to make herself look good, feel good, and go out. There certainly hadn't been time for that since taking over as captain of Oasis. Even before, Nova packed light while hopping from crew to crew. Even if there had been time, she hadn't had the wardrobe or the stocked vanity that she had left behind on the family ship. Access to the wardrobe was restored with her return to Oasis as she once more resided in her childhood-turned-grownup room. But time and location now plagued her efforts to enjoy a nice night out through a scenic portside town.

There was nothing scenic about Kafrene. If she called the station a dump, Nova would be insulting dumps everywhere. Massive interconnecting buildings made of corroding durasteel and grime-slicked plasteel were aligned chaotically in every direction. Ammonia and other noxious gases leaked out of pipes and there was more moisture on the station floors than in the ducts. This was the kind of place where the alcohol was more potable than any "clean" water.

The fault wasn't the station's, nor did blame lay on any of the current denizens. The fools who originally built the place hadn't properly estimated the amount of useful minerals in the surrounding asteroid field and, even though the station could have been a major trade nexus owing to Kafrene's position as an intersection for the Corellian Trade Spine and the Biox Detour, the architects had intended the station for a single purpose: mining. Well the mining dried up and so did any chance of the Ring of Kafrene to be anything but a slum. Poverty set in before any change could be wrought and no one with the funds to do anything about the situation had ever made any attempt to support the station. Any trade that happened was barely above board and was more likely to be outright illegal. So much for a trade nexus.

Nova had managed to find one such barely above board cargo delivery jobs for her crew. The job paid the bills and the rest of the credits went to her crew. Nova kept enough to buy herself a few drinks and that was exactly where she was headed now. So she wasn't wearing a dress. Instead, she was casually dressed in a light gray jacket over teal-and-cream vertically striped three-quarters shirt, black slacks under knee high, black boots and her hair was tied back in a sloppy pony-tail. Not much effort, not much excitement. But she wasn't wearing a dress in this less-than dump. So her attire would have to do for her little break.

Seedy cantinas on Kafrene were as common as a snow drift on Hoth. Nova had hopped from joint to joint hoping to find a spot she felt comfortable enough to sit down for awhile. She was almost feeling as though all her efforts would all be for naught and she'd be better off just giving up and going back to her ship. The last bar she tried, though, seemed safe enough though. There was less-than-average condensation on all the glass surfaces and the grease of the station was reasonably well fended off. A small crowd was off to one side dancing to something excitingly rhythmic. She wasn't sure if she was up for moving, but the presence of the dance floor was still appealing for her mood. She was more in the mood to do some talking, and the music was low enough in volume on the other side of the chamber by the bar that she would have no difficulty speaking over the music. There was no way she'd survive the evening without something resembling a social interaction. Nova approached the bar and sat on one of the stools towards the middle.

"Do you have anything reasonably priced that doesn't taste like bantha sweat?" The muscled, Omwati woman on the other side of the counter grinned and shrugged, grabbed a glass and filled it with a burnt-orange liquid. The bartender slid the glass over to Nova and Nova slid a credit chit to the woman. "Open a tab. I think I'll be here for a bit."

Spoiler: OOC

No rules for joining this thread to any who might be interested. I don't have a specific plot in mind, just wanted to flex this character a little bit more.

If you miss out but still want to thread, just let me know. My door is always open for some good writing

 

[Roth Likonis]

Nova Casamyr

The Rings of Kafrene. A backwater station in a backwater sector of space; shriveled, forgotten, and left to its own devices. Here, the detritus of the galaxy congregated in its dark and grimy shadows, gathering in slums, crowded corners, dark alleys, and seedy bars. Street vendors hawked their wares, selling everything imaginable, while armed thugs with crossed arms barred entry to warehouses and crumbling apartments - here, illegal substances and weapons were sold in shady deals between middlemen. In some ways, it was ironic; the economy here in the rings was booming in its own way. But where the nobility had envisioned a nexus of legitimate trade of minerals and metals, instead the criminal underworld wheeled and dealed in the forbidden freight of the galaxy.

Here, someone could find anything they needed. As long as they had the currency, or something to trade.

It was perfect, in other words, for Jashin Vycarion's purposes. Striding down the side streets, polished boots clacking smartly on the ground underneath, he delicately pulled the charred meat of what appeared to be some kind of lizard skewered on a stick off with his teeth. It was barely edible, but he didn't mind - it was the first real food he had had in weeks that wasn't box rations. "Frell, this stuff is amazing! Ever see anything with seven legs before? What purpose could that even serve?" As he spoke, his mouth full, he turned and waved the skewered lizard in the face of his companion - a somewhat battered looking security droid whose faceplate had only a single blue photoreceptor.

"I see it. It does not register as nutritionally substantive - it is also a genetic aberration, the result of pollutants altering the organism's genetic structure." The droid's voice buzzed and echoed, the processor and parts needed to regulate it clearly damaged. While once imposing, the droid's metallic frame was rusted and pitted in places, the armored plating looking loose and worse-for-wear. It didn't seem to carry any weapons; rather its jerky and stuttering movements made sentients give it a wide berth, for fear it would careen into them. "Jashin, you should focus on the task at hand. Cooperation furthers mutual goals." The droid regarded the flippant organic before it, its photoreceptor brightening somewhat, appearing somewhat menacing despite its dilapidated state. "This venture depletes all our funds. If it fails, we will fail."

"You're too serious. Stop and smell the mutant lizard for once in your sad miserable life." Taking another bite, then another, Jashin tossed the skewer onto the ground, discarding the lizard's scaly tail. Nearly instantly, street urchins appeared, fighting tooth and nail for the scraps. "You think I don't know the state we're in? Anobis. Grizmallt. Fracking Seelos. Backwater planets all, and with it no money, no room for repairs, and all crew abandoning ship." As he spoke, Jashin paused, lowering his voice and leaning in to whisper to the droid in deadly tones. "I mean selling the karking ship? For scrap? Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

"I know the sentimentality you attached to the freighter. But by your own admission, it wasn't the craft you desired. It performed poorly, was underarmed, and was - " Began the droid, before being cut off by Jashin.

"That's not the point!" Snapped Jashin. "You don't mess with a Captain's ship! Even if it's a third-rate rusting cargo hopper! And yet I risked it all, I risked everything, all for this one chance. So don't you ever question my commitment!" As he spoke, his hand slapped against his pistol at his side, and the street urchins scattered.

For its own part, the droid stood stock still - in that way that only a machine can do - its single photoreceptor enigmatic and inscrutable as it took in Jashin and the thinly veiled threat. It had partnered with this bizarre creature against its better programming. Yet something about the cocky, arrogant, and fun-loving near-human had intrigued it. Ultimately, the purple haired, golden eyed, and loquacious Jashin had won the droid over. For better or for worse. "I don't question your commitment. Only your methods."

"The lead is solid. The deal is set." Insisted Jashin, turning on his heel and heading to the specified meeting place, even now just a stone throw away. It was one of the lesser dingy cantinas in the area. "We go in, we get the info, we get out. Then we plan the next move."

"There's always a next move. Never a pay day." Grumbled the droid, but Jashin was already entering the cantina, already out of earshot.

Together, the pair pushed through the doors of the cantina into the interior. Inside, it was surprisingly well kept. Not as much moisture, not as much mold, and generally not as much riffraff. To the side, sentients danced to a driving beat, and, at the bar, a muscled Omwati female was serving a human woman something orange and fizzy. Walking up to the bar, Jashin tapped the counter several times, getting the Omwati's attention. "Yo, nee choo wanna wanga, nadda wompa yocola, eh? Surprise me." (Hey, hello, need a drink please, surprise me) The huttese was surprisingly fluent, and slapping a credit chit down on the bar, Jashin slapped two more down for good measure. "Little bit extra there, if you keep the back exit unblocked and unlocked. Not expecting trouble, but you never know eh?" He looked more likely to cause trouble, though. Unkept aubergine hair, golden eyes, and a devilish smile. At his left side a pistol, at his right a well-used cutlass. Not to mention the security droid that hulked behind the man.

 

[Nova Casamyr]

"So are there good parts of Kafrene? I mean... you live here." Nova gave the Omwati a little wiggle of her eyebrow. "Your bar seems like a decent spot. It can't be all bad, right?"

The Omwati woman was a bouncer turned bartender turned owner as Nova had learned. But why here? Why an armpit of the galaxy that was easier to ignore than fix. The woman's name was Huà'stera; she'd asked Nova to call her Tera but Nova was concocting other nickname ideas in her head as they went back and forth. The flirting was harmless and both women had no expectation for any kind of continuation past the words they shared in that moment. After all, Nova had never been to Kafrene before, and she doubted she ever would again. She hoped to learn something interesting about the place from Tera, but Nova's was a life of adventure. Stopping back to port for a check-in with an old fling really wasn't her style. But the talk was fun and the distraction from everything else around Nova's life was welcome. And Nova wanted to know what would keep someone on the asteroid.

Tera shrugged and smirked. "There's interest on Kafrene. All travelers see are slums. But they don't see the bourgeoisie. Why? Because there is no class on Kafrene. We all might be poor, but there are no rich. The only commodities are the things that come through the port. People trade information because there's nothing else of value. And the first thing that folks do once they get credits? They leave. The empty spot is filled by another startup looking to make it in the infochant business and the cycle continues. Everyone else? They might be merchants and artisans. They might have botany labs growing food. They might be bar owners. But they're all in the same group. And that group is free."

Nova had to admit, there was a certain gravity to that. She felt free among the stars, knowing no allegiance to a government, living only for the next job and the journey and the excitement. If Tera had found a place she felt free, then Nova couldn't fault the woman for wanting to cling to that feeling.

The orange drink in her glass fizzed and bubbled and then shook a little as a man tapped on the bar next to her. A couple of credit chits left his hand and her browed quirked at his mention of leaving the doors unlocked.

Tera scooped up the chits with a look that seemed to mix restraint, curiosity, and a little concern. "Sure," the Omwati woman said. Whatever questions she had, Tera was a bartender. She was practiced at the art of discretion. Heck, Nova was ready to spill her life story to the woman in exchange for another drink. And that was why Nova could never be a bartender. She'd be a terrible gossip.

<Da chuda, pateessa. Kooba kachu uta?> "What's up, friend. You bring trouble here?" Nova's Huttese was rusty. She got the greetings fine and the vocabulary fine but her grammar was atrocious.

Roth Likonis
NPC text color = #C7FAF8 should you need (feel free to write her!)​

 

[Roth Likonis]

Nova Casamyr

Jashin smiled broadly as the Omwati woman scooped up the credit chits, her muscled arm appearing to hit a button under the counter - presumably unlocking a door in the back. The bartender, long practiced and weathered by Kafrene, didn't seem too panicked or curious by the credits. Indeed, beyond some mild curiosity and concern, simply went back to serving drinks and chatting up a young human female spacer at the bar. The spacer, for her part the only person in earshot of Jashin's hushed words, turned to look at him curiously. <Da chuda, pateessa. Kooba kachu uta?>

Jashin's smile, one of mild politeness, grew wide at the broken Huttese. The woman was quite attractive - cute, for a human - and it had been quite a while since he had been to port; it was enough to pull his attention from the task at hand. "I'd do soong storee (It's a long story)." Here at the bar, the woman's wide eyes encompassed his entire focus, and around him the bar pressed in - the driving beat of the music, the writhing mass of sentients gyrating and cavorting on the dance floor, the fizzing and popping up the drinks, the garish light. A wicked smile, a dangerous glint of the eyes, a shuffle closer to the woman - close enough to be intimate but not rude - and Jashin was suddenly leaning on the bar counter, all the part of dashing and dangerous rogue. "I mean, the Bandit of Braxant Run tends to bring trouble with him wherever he goes, no?" He said it proudly, as if it was well known knowledge, but the title would doubtlessly mean nothing to the spacer. Even law enforcement had to dig through layers of records to find mention of a string of small-time grain harvest thefts around Cassander.

Behind him the droid sighed, and a metallic hand clapped down on Jashin's shoulder. "Alright Cassanovan, time to go. We don't have time for you to seduce some random organic."

"I am a perfect gentleman, thank you! Maybe I just want to talk." Protested Jashin as he was partially pulled away from the bar. "There's plenty of times when I just talk!" His hands dug into the bar as he spoke, trying to maintain his dignity while the droid tried to pry him away like a stubborn child.

"Talking," replied the droid snippily, "is far, far worse."

"It was not my fault the last one was a police officer." Retorted Jashin. "She did not properly identify herself. That's the law."

Turning Jashin around, leaning into his face, the droid snapped its metallic hand in front of his eyes - the droid equivalent of snapping one's fingers. "Focus. Calibrate. Remember why we're here."

"The bar has a good vantage point of the door, and the back exit." Jashin jerked his head at a swinging double-door behind the Omwati woman who had been studiously ignoring the pair. "I'm focused."

"Fine." As huffily as a droid could, it turned away and stomped towards a dark booth in a corner. Taking a seat there, it seemed to sulk in the darkness.

Turning back to the woman, Jashin smiled, brushing the whole thing off. "He's just nervous. Well, as nervous as a droid can get."

 

[Nova Casamyr]

There was a certain swagger that so many starship captains exhibited. The attitude just seemed to come with the job. The cockiness, the self-aggrandizement, the charismatic charm. All of these were the hallmarks of a true scoundrel. The galaxy was full of them. And the field was especially dominated by men. Though Nova had met her share of ego-driven female captains too, the guys definitely held the majority share of the role. And in a place like Kafrene, there were hundreds of other captains who thought their grin was shinier than every other one. Being a showboat had serious competition in a highly populated arena. Whether being the "Bandit of Braxant Run" was impressive or not wasn't really the point. No matter how many parsecs you cut off a flight, how hard you pushed your hyperdrive, or how many patrols you outmaneuvered, a captain had to have some bragging rights. And they didn't have to be believable or even true. They just needed substance and a catchy name.

The thing was, these types were never boring to Nova. After all, if there was one pastime she liked more than any other? It was talking. And if there was one thing that these exhaust-fume addled space junkies were good at doing? It was talking. How could she pass up the opportunity right in front of her face? Literally. Taking the guy back to her ship though? Certainly not. Letting him know she even had a ship? Probably not. Respectfully interacting with the guy and enjoying his company at the cantina and maybe exchanging Holo info to keep in touch if any jobs come through down the line? Absolutely.

Still, she was quite excited at the prospect of a good conversation, even if the guy seemed like he might have other things in mind.

She chuckled along to the banter between the man and his droid companion. The droid seemed pretty run down, but also seemed to be operating alright. Maybe if the conversation were interesting enough, she'd offer her droid repair services. The droids servos could use the attention. And she'd probably pry some more amusing banter out of the two. "I've seen plenty of nervous droids. Put off their memory core wipes and strange things happen to their personality matrices. That's why military, government, and corporate models are always so lacking in personality."

Her own astromechs weren't her property. They were her family. Nova could never give them a wipe. The personalities they had developed over the years were their identity, and they had a right to that identity, like any sentient did. Nova sipped at her orange-fizzy drink. She noticed that the Omwati bartender had wandered off down the bar, helping other patrons and giving the two room to talk between themselves. Maybe they'd pick up their chat later. Maybe not. Bar encounters were so wonderfully unpredictable. "So then," Nova said, turning her briefly diverted attention back to the man leaning on the bar next to her. "What's this super secret trouble you're anticipating? Should I duck for cover when the next person comes through the door?"

Roth Likonis​

 

[Roth Likonis]

Nova Casamyr

He couldn't always tell what humans were thinking exactly - and that certainly applied to human women. Culturally, there was a large gap between his own Epicanthix species and that of the myriad human and near-human species that permeated the galaxy; more than one misunderstanding had been created by those differences. Either way, the human seemed receptive, and Jashin welcomed the distraction. "Eh, I wouldn't know anything about memory wipes. He's his own droid. As in he partnered with me for this job, not the other way around." Jashin turned to look at the droid over his shoulder, something of a wan smile on his lips. "...I think he's going to try to kill me for my shares; I wouldn't have it any other way." There was a dispassionate finality to that statement, a nonchalant inevitability that didn't seem to bother Jashin; that even a supposed friend would stab him in the back was simply a fact of life. As if the droid could hear him across the bar (and for all anyone knew, it possibly could) it lifted its head and regarded Jashin with that single photoreceptor, frozen in unnatural machine stillness. For a few seconds the two regarded each other, before Jashin eventually turned to the woman with a lopsided grin. "I envy you spacers. Moving freight is far more honest work than piracy."

Jashin's earlier roguishness had worn off some, replaced with a slight melancholia that dulled the sparkle in his eyes. No one chose piracy after all, rather, the profession chose them. Necessity, convenience, chance - the reasons varied, but the end result was the same. Jashin embraced this life, for better or for worse, and he was stronger for it. At least that's what he told himself.

At the woman's question of super-secret trouble, Jashin laughed. "Well, not that much a secret. More like I shouldn't advertise it much. I mean shady business is a matter of discourse here - a deal in a bar can't be too much of a sight, right?" He had no sooner finished the thought, when a pair of large and burly klatooinians muscled their way through the door. Wearing some light armor, the pair carried menacing looking blaster rifles in their hands, and immediately began scanning the bar for danger. To the side, the security droid (for Jashin still did not know its designation) got their attention with a wave, and with a pair of curt nods they stepped aside, allowing a short sullustan in a business suit and adorned in gold chains and rings to slowly waddle into the bar. Behind the sullustan yet two more klatooinian guards walked in. By the look on Jashin's face, this wasn't what had been expected. "I think you should duck behind the bar sweetheart." The happy-go-lucky arrogance was gone now, a hard edge lining his voice as he smiled tightly. "Don't have to be a pirate to know how this is gonna turn out."

Suits, golden jewelry (probably electrum, reasoned Jashin), rings. It was all the trademarks of the local Casini crime family. It was to be expected after all; when the nobility made Kafrene, so many years ago, some of the smaller families took risks by investing in the Rings. The Casini family was one such family who invested too much of their small and dwindling fortune, and then lost it all when the Rings turned out to be a bust. Rather than let their family and legacy dissolve, however, the Casini's made it their business to commit to Kafrene through an altogether different means than their forefathers; extensive organized crime. Well, what most sectors would consider crime - there were few laws here, so really it was just regular business. But bloody and murderous business all the same. Jashin had been expecting to meet with a low-level soldier. But this looked to be a Capo, the boss of a crew of soldiers who then reported to the underboss of the family. In other words, their little exchange had been noticed by the main family - the Casinis likely knew what was going on - and Jashin's plan, already tenuous, was shot to hell. "Oh, it's never karking simple. Not one fracking time." Muttered Jashin under his breath.

But it was with a smile, wide open arms, and an enthusiastic grin that he greeted the men as he walked over to the booth with the droid. "Heyyyy! Well if it isn't my favorite people - the Casinis!"

 

[Nova Casamyr]

Speak of the devil, just as the rogue was justifying his illegal activities as a result of whatever had forced him into the lifestyle, through the front door came the trouble. Nova momentarily forgot herself, where she was, and the context of the conversation she had just been having. After all, she'd seen plenty of strong-armed bullies over the years use their obvious physical strength to intimidate their target into doing whatever they pleased. The Casamyr family had avoided loan sharks and shady deals for that reason specifically. Not that they were out to take the higher road or even follow some sense of moral obligation. They had kept their noses clean because once you found trouble, trouble always had a way of coming back and finding you over and over and over.

So when Nova saw the Klatooinians, her first reaction was to downplay their presence. After all, they weren't there for her. She hadn't done anything wrong or in spite or opposition of another party. But then, that was where her frame of reference was lacking a few critical pieces. "Oh crap," Nova heard from behind her. Nova turned to see the Omwati bartender crouching down and realized that if the owner of the place didn't even feel safe in her own establishment, the threat was far more serious than her initial reaction had been. She left her seat swiftly and joined Tera behind the bar, keeping her head low but peeking over to keep an eye on things. The music came to a scratching halt as the performers came to the same sweeping realization that everyone in the place was gradually gaining.

Nova started trying to piece things together in her brain, but decided talking was far faster for her to process. "So who are these Casini guys?" Nova whispered to Tera. "They big shots around here I guess?"

"The Casini family is the premier crime family on Kafrene."

"I thought you said you felt free here. How do these guys hold this much power and yet you still cower in their presence?"

Tera threw Nova an irritated glare. "Because they have guns. And there's a lot of them. They might not control everything that comes in and out, but they can throw their weight around plenty. And total freedom means that they can shoot a few people to get what they want. They're smart about it too. Kill too many and they'd have a riot. Too few and no one would take their threats seriously. Just enough and no one will mess with you and no one will want to get caught in the crossfire. I'm not worried about my rights. I just don't want to get caught in the middle."

Nova could appreciate that sentiment. The best thing about being independent was that she didn't have to worry about being caught in the middle. Her decisions were her own. The only time she had to fear repercussions were when dealing with a shipping mistake. And she was smart enough not to ever let that happen. Her attention returned to the mob scene unfolding on the bar floor.

Roth Likonis ​

 

[Roth Likonis]

Nova Casamyr

Jashin's smile was tight as he walked over to the booth; a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes, coupled with a wry smile devoid of mirth. The Klatooinians moved to block him, but were halted by a word from the security droid and a nod from the sullustan. Sliding into the booth, aware of the eyes on them, Jashin cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak - but was beaten to the punch by the sullustan, who spoke in a nasally and thickly accented dialect of basic. "So...so...come 'round here, eh, lookin' for business with one my boys, eh? Big business." The sullustan looked at his nails, bringing a finger to his puckered lips and ostensibly chewing on it before spitting a nail to the side. "Kekkin' insultin'."

"That was not the intent." Intoned the droid, its vocabulator echoing. "We didn't want to bother the Casinis with things that were obviously beneath them." The droid's chassis was stock still, but somehow the its single photoreceptor seemed to jump from organic to organic without moving. Analyzing. Evaluating. Weighing the odds.

"Always funny," continued the sullustan, waving the droid's words away, "how everyone else 's the one to decide what is, and isn't important t' us Casinis, hmm? How people think they can just put their little fingers into our work...'n pretty soon 'th take over our work. Y' know?" As he spoke, the sullustan took a small handkerchief out, and slowly unwrapped it, pouring the contents onto the table. Ten gnarled and neatly severed fingers tumbled across the table, several of them rolling off the table and onto the floor. "Take my man Friddix...loyal soldier...knew his place, yeah? Disappearin' into 'th night with sensitive info. Flight plans, ship rosters, cargo manifests - any convoys passin' by high-density nebula. Dangerous stuff. Why...right ship, right crew, could say someone was planning a bit of piracy, no?"

The droid was silent, and it was Jashin who cleared his throat. "Hey, hey...let's just all...calm down for a second. We're not from here. Don't know the local...ah...customs. Dunno left from right. We hear a guy, he's got some info, so we make a deal. We still want to make a deal." Jashin delicately picked up one of the fingers, and touched the tip of the wrinkled finger to his forehead before flourishing it - a mock salute. "Never wanted to step on any toes. Or fingers."

"Yeh, yeh. I hears you. Business is business. Kafrene ain't like whats it used to be. I get it." The sullustan seemed vaguely amused by the macabre salute, and with a hand brushed the rest of the fingers off the table. After doing so, he wiped his hand off with obvious disdain. "But now yous understand who is doing business with whom, yeh? So now you knows that the original deal...that ain't gonna cut it boyo." The sullustan leaned back, the klatooinians tightening their grip on their blasters. "Gonna be payment for the info, then fifty percent of th' cargo. For damages."

"Damages." Spluttered Jashin. "I'm a pirate, and even I think that's robbery. We don't even have a ship. We need the rest of our funds for equipment. Cutting torches, sensor spoofs, an EM mask." Under the table, Jashin's hand moved to his pistol, but was stopped as the droid clamped down on his forearm with mechanical strength. Shooting the droid a look, the droid gave no indication of the struggle under the table - one that Jashin was losing.

"Kek, youse don't even have a ship? What're youse gonna do, talk 'em t' death?" The sullustan began to rise, making a movement to his guards to dispose of the pair. "I'm done with these here jokers. Waste 'em."

"Fifty percent of the cargo, less a boarding unit that you provide. We provide the equipment. We find a ship; here, on Kafrene." Said the droid quickly. "You don't have the expertise to pull this off yourselves; you wouldn't have traveled all this way to hear two strangers out. You would have killed us immediately." As the droid spoke, the sullustan raised a hand, and the guards lowered their rifles.

"Pretty bold claims there tinman. How youse figure that t' be true, eh? Casinis got wealth; Casinis got reach." The sullustan still had his hand raised. Should he choose to lower it, the room would doubtlessly turn into a warzone.

"It's bad business. Piracy is risky; too many warzones, too many borders, and you risk manpower and expensive ships on often uncertain cargo. Manifests can be faked. Security can be higher than it should be. Ships can have military escorts. In comparison, smuggling contraband freight is far more safe - supply and demand is always stable, and government officials can be bribed with regularity." As it spoke, it carefully watched the sullustan. When the short creature didn't lower its hand, but rather stood waiting, listening, the droid continued. "This way, we assume the majority of the risk. Ship isn't yours, equipment cost isn't yours, and just a small handful of men for literal metric tons of wealth? Now that...that's just good business."

The sullustan stood silent for several seconds, then began gibbering in a loud and odd fashion; it took Jashin several moments to realize that the alien was laughing. "Hey...hey, you gots me. You gots a good processor in there tinman." The sullustan laughed some more, then lowered his hand - the guards standing down. "Deal. Fifty percent plus men, plus your original payment." The sullustan leveled a finger at the droid, then Jashin. "But. Either of youse leave before we work out the details...I'm putting a bounty on your heads. Thirty thousand. Each." The sullustan then jerked his head at the woman he had been talking to earlier, even now ducking behind the bar with the Omwati woman. "Goes for her too."

"Wait, what? She's got nothing to do with this." Spluttered Jashin, waving a hand at the bar. "She's just some barfly - you know how it is, coming to port after a long stretch? I don't even know her name."

"I don't give a womp rat's ass. I don't know you. You cross me and my Boss, and everyone you've ever talked to here on Kafrene is gonna wind up in a ditch or with a bounty on their head. No exceptions boyo." The sullustan made a motion with his hand, and the guards pushed open the front doors. "Way I figure it, I can kill you, or I can kill enough people around you that their associates kill you for me. Either way, win-win for me. My men will be watching youse both - you've got two days to get the equipment you need. Tell 'em Graylex sent yeh - they'll cooperate." And then the sullustan was gone, taking the lumbering klatooinian guards with him. For a long moment there was silence in the bar, but slowly talk resumed - with a good amount of the patrons leaving and giving Jashin and the droid an extremely wide berth.

The droid for its part nodded to itself in the booth. Jashin, crossing his arms, leaned against the booth and took out a long and thin cigara; with a smooth motion he lit it with a chemlighter, and whispy orange smoke wafted from it. The unmistakable scent of marcan herb.

"Well...kek." Said Jashin aloud into the air.

"Kek indeed." Agreed the droid.

Spoiler: OOC

Having a lot of fun! Making up most of this as I go - looking to get your ship involved, but don't wanna blow it up or anything hahah. Also letting you know I may be out of town 26th-28th due to funeral, so posting may be sparse or spaced out, but will get regular afterward.

 

[Nova Casamyr]

"Did he just point at me?" Nova said, the color draining from her face. No. No, no, no, no.

"Yep," was all Tera had to say.

"But... Bu-but I... I haven't," Nova's muscles stretched and she felt herself start to stand.

"Nope!" Tera reflexively reached out and grabbed Nova, pulling her back as the two of them tumbled into a heap on the floor behind the bar. Nova was about to protest but Tera reacted and beat the human woman to that too. "Nope! Sh." Nova struggled against the woman's grip around her. But the Omwati woman's muscles were not just for show. No amount of struggling was going to free Nova so she stopped. Had the night gone differently, she might have found being pinned by the attractive bartender quite a bit more fun. But there was nothing fun about this. That sleemo had pointed her out of the crowd and lumped her into someone else's mess. That was cause for complaint!

But rules were different on Kafrene. Everyone was free but some people were more free and certain people could make free people less free. Now Nova needed to complete a job of which she had no knowledge or background with a guy and droid she had barely met and if she didn't she was going to have a price on her head. This is exactly why she didn't get mixed up in anything illegal. Start down the wrong road and the lifestyle would never let go.

Eventually, Tera let Nova go. The spacer captain shot up like a turbolift but the Casini "family" was already gone. Grrrrr. "You jerk. Why didn't you let me stand up for myself?! Now I'm stuck in a mess!"

Looking at Tera, still sprawled out on the ground where they had collapsed, Nova's temper cooled. The Omwati bartender looked genuinely remorseful. "Sorry, girl. You speaking out like I think you were about you would have gotten you shot. Or worse. A lot worse. I'd never forgive myself, even if you never come back to Kafrene. You don't deserve that."

Nova was still steamed but not at the proprietor. The spacer reached out and hauled Tera to her feet. The two were close together and Nova talked just loud enough where only the two of them could hear Nova speak. "Sorry. I know you were just looking out. And thanks. I've still got my head thanks to you." Nova leaned in and gave the woman a full kiss on the lips. She parted before she got too lost in the other woman's touch. "But I should go before you somehow get roped into this too. Maybe if you ever feel the desire to leave Kafrene, look me up. See ya," Nova gave the Omwati woman's arm a gentle squeeze and then they parted.

She walked up to the booth where Jashin sat and the droid stood beside him. She swiped at the air, clearing the smoke from the man's cigara. "I'm not sticking around here waiting for them to come back. So, well... Ugh." Nova took one last look back to where Huà'stera stood behind the bar, looking more than a little forlorn. "Let's just go." Nova turned and walked right out of the bar.

Roth Likonis​

 

[Roth Likonis]

"I'm not sticking around here waiting for them to come back. So, well... Ugh." Nova took one last look back to where Huà'stera stood behind the bar, looking more than a little forlorn. "Let's just go." Nova turned and walked right out of the bar."

"At least someone is having a good time." Muttered Jashin, referring to the two women's kiss. While Jashin was recklessness personified, and, indeed, something of a loose cannon - even he hadn't guessed at just how sideways things had gone, or how quickly. Further, though he would never admit it, more than a large part of him wanted to stay and relax. It had been far, far too long since their travels had allowed for it, and he had been enjoying the harmless flirtations and libations. "Whoah, hey, wait up there sweetheart!" Starting after the woman, Jashin pushed through the doors of the cantina, pursuing the woman as she strode purposefully out and away from Jashin and the droid.

"I don't see what the problem is. Things turned out far better than expected." Replied the droid after them, hastily sliding out of the booth and through the doors with mechanical ease. "We have hired guns now, which means less blasters pointed at us. Also, what I assume to be a severe discount on equipment, that is if Gralex's name carries any weight."

"Yes." Replied Jashin tersely. "All of that, and the threat of death marks, our associates being tortured and killed, and a full fifty percent of any profit going to them."

"Ah. I failed to see the organic point of view. Sucks to be you." Said the droid flippantly, an electronic laugh coming out of its processor. "I have no associates, and I back up my core memory and personality matrix via subspace transceiver; death is more a point of view for me." Shrugging, a surprisingly fluid and human-like motion, the droid continued. "And fifty percent is still better than nothing - especially calculating extra costs. This was the best result."

"So once again you've screwed me, and maneuvered yourself into the best position for yourself at my expense. Good to know." Replied Jashin darkly, flashing a rude gesture at the droid's photoreceptor. Catching up to the woman, he tried to catch her shoulder, to slow her. "Hey! Drop outa hyperspace there. You have a ship? This is going to go galactic south pretty fast without one."

Nova Casamyr

 

[Nova Casamyr]

The night had started out as if there might be a decent chance for some relaxation. After a tough job, a night off was definitely in order. The bar had seemed decent, the company was good, the drinks were starting to flow, and the temptation of a dance floor was there.

Now Nova was several drinks short of her ideal level of intoxication. The bar and dance floor were behind her. And her company had turned from a potential fling to a scoundrel and a busted up droid.

What happened?

The spacer was glad she had one drink down because she was sure that without one, she'd have a gas-giant-sized headache. She stormed off towards the port, not wanting to stick around longer than she had too, putting as much distance as possible between her and her squandered evening plans. Nova ignored the "sweetheart" comment from her "new friend." But after a few moments, her temper started to cool. The blame didn't lie completely with Jashin. That thug had practically selected Nova out of the crowd at random. He might've had the briefest glimpse of Jashin and Nova talking with each other, but the choice of including Nova was just the kind of thing a thug would do to strong arm someone into getting what they want. The criminal could have pointed to anyone.

Sometimes she hated being able to see both sides of the credit chit.

Nova felt a tug on her jacket and dropped her stewing thoughts. She sighed and turned to the scoundrel and the droid. Their quibbling was somehow a lot less cute than before. "You already dragged me into this. Now you want to drag my ship into this? I kept my ship clean up 'til today. No illegal jobs. No illegal cargo. No illegal passengers. And my crew was appreciative of being aboveboard. We didn't have to look over our backs every time we made port. Now what? I'm gonna end up living with a mark whether this goes through or not."

Nova turned back around and continued off. She had already been heading in the direction of her ship. There wasn't really another choice. This was just the way things had to be. Maybe the Cassini's reach wasn't as long as they said. Maybe Oasis could go everywhere but return to Kafrene.

Still, she wasn't going to take any chances, certainly not with the livelihoods of her crew. She signaled her wristcom and sent a message to Reeve. <Get everyone off Oasis. I need to make an emergency run. No accompaniment. I mean it. Astromechs too.>

The rest of the walk Nova kept quiet. She didn't really have much that she wanted to say. That was a rarity for her. But she also wasn't the type to grill someone. She knew that her frustrations were running hot and opening her mouth would just lead to unpleasantness. Nova was self-aware enough to know when to keep her mouth shut, at least in those circumstances. So she just kept the pace brisk, her hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets, and her eyes forward. The station wasn't all that big though, and it wasn't long before they came upon the docking berth where her family's ship rested. She triggered her wristcom again, sending an unlock signal to the vessel. The ramp lowered and she walked right up without missing a step.

"Come on," she said without turning around. "Hopefully your shiphandling is better than your business sense." Nova stopped at the top of the ramp which led to the middeck. She finally turned to regard her new temporary crew. Pointing down the corridor toward the cockpit: "Ship controls are down there. No sightseeing. No souvenirs." Nova stood with her arms crossed, though her expression had softened considerably over the course of her walk through the station. Still, she wasn't about to let someone she didn't trust walk away with any freebies.

Roth Likonis​

 

[Roth Likonis]

"You already dragged me into this. Now you want to drag my ship into this? I kept my ship clean up 'til today. No illegal jobs. No illegal cargo. No illegal passengers. And my crew was appreciative of being aboveboard. We didn't have to look over our backs every time we made port. Now what? I'm gonna end up living with a mark whether this goes through or not."

"I mean it's that, or..." Jashin made a throat-cutting gesture with his finger, smiling in a half grimace. Unimpressed, the woman simply turned around and continued to stomp off. Undeterred, Jashin followed after her. "Just trying to lighten the mood, princess! Maybe we should -" His words were interrupted by the droid, who got the back of his jacket collar. "What do you want now." He snapped irritably.

"We're being followed." Said the droid succinctly. "You're also annoying the female." The droid jerked its head, indicating a smarmy looking Nikto with green skin trailing behind them, and being quite obvious about it. It held its blaster carbine with a cockiness afforded to it by a path on its shoulder that indicated it belong to the Casinis - a stylized 'C' embossed over the logo of a credit chit. To and fro, sentients of all sizes and shapes gave the nikto a wide berth.

Jashin instantly hated the alien, but was unsurprised. "And? Gralex said we'd be followed."

"Just wanted to let you know. Didn't want you to claim I was screwing you again." Retorted the droid, its hands coming up in an approximation of surrender. "But, by all means, next time I'll keep it to myself."

"You didn't tell me because you were concerned how I might feel. You told me because it benefitted you. I'm the better fighter." Replied Jashin flatly, shrugging the droid's hand off his his jacket. "When you pay me back? Then we'll be even."

They walked in silence then, the woman stomping, the droid's mechanical feet clacking, Jashin's polished boots clicking. Thankfully, Kafrene wasn't large, at least compared to a planet - indeed it was an overly glorified space port - and they quickly came to the ship berths. Turning a corner and ducking through a bulkhead, they came across the female spacer's ship; and what a grand ship it was. Jashin had never seen one before, but the delta-shaped profile, the drooping wings, the exposed engines...it could only be a Baudo.

Jashin whistled appreciatively, lingering outside as the spacer walked up the ramp of her ship. "Nice ship." A hand came up, his fingertips brushing against the plated durasteel that made up the belly of the craft, never leaving the craft's clean and flowing edges - not even as he walked up the ramp to join the others. He seemed reverent, the way he touched the ship was like that of one lover to another; an appreciation that went beyond admiration.

"Come on," she said without turning around. "Hopefully your shiphandling is better than your business sense." Nova stopped at the top of the ramp which led to the middeck. She finally turned to regard her new temporary crew. Pointing down the corridor toward the cockpit: "Ship controls are down there. No sightseeing. No souvenirs."

"The droid is the pilot, not me." Replied Jashin, looking around the interior."'Sides...we're gonna have to attach an EM modulator to your shield generator, get supplies, and wait for Gralex's men to show up."

"My name," corrected the droid, with audible irritation "is not Droid. It is PL-aught-6." The droid rose up to its full height, becoming a little more intimidating despite its battered armor. "You may call me PLOT-6."

"Because that isn't menacing or suspicious." Muttered Jashin under his breath.

"Ignore my partner. I will need access and permissions to your flight controls and avionics suite." The droid's right arm split in half, a telescoping scomp link ejecting like a needle. "I can pilot more efficiently than organics."

Jashin, for his part, leaned against a wall, crossed his arms, and generally looked like he wasn't going to go anywhere. Taking out his blaster, he seemed to adjust a few settings, aimed down the sights, and then began to realign and recalibrate the weapon.

Nova Casamyr

 

[Nova Casamyr]

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, I have no intention of letting either of you fly. You've already admitted to being a pirate. And if this droid is hanging out with you, then I expect about the same level of morality is embedded in its core processing. I don't care how efficient you are, this is my ship. That means my rules. You want something to do, PLOT-6? You can plug into the co-pilot's chair and start plotting courses. Anyone using the starboard station automatically has guest privileges which will enable you to look at starcharts and navigate but not much else. Now get down that hallway." She shooed the droid on towards the cockpit. As the droid moved along, Nova's glance returned solely to Jashin. "You too, come on. There's some crew quarters you can stay while we wait. Where's the EM modulator?"

She followed on behind the troublemaker. The Captain was being cautious, maybe more than she needed to be. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to dismantle that EM modulator before attaching it to her ship. And giving a strange droid root access to her ship's computer? That sounded like a one-way trip further down this rabbit-hole of a disaster.

"The first door on the left or right are each bunks. Take your pick. Make yourself right at home." The bunks had no access to essential systems so she wasn't worried about leaving the pirate there if he wanted to rest while they waited. But she wasn't about to leave the droid alone on the bridge. The command deck was small, but not so small. Even a clunky droid could manage to do some real damage before Nova would realize what was happening.

Blooort blrt pbt.​

On cue, the grainy, Binary speech of a familiar clunky droid sounded from the cockpit. She audibly groaned in irritation before moving down the rest of the hallway.

"Fifi!" her voice rose at the R5 astromech unit that oh-so-predictably ignored her orders. "Didn't I tell everyone to get off the ship? Everyone includes you!"

Wop wop wop.
​

"This is no time for jokes you tin -"

Tee oo bliip Pipbl?
​

"No I'm not replacing -"

Blirt eep?
​

"I order you all to leave because it's going to be dan-"

Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpb.
​

Nova sighed. "I didn't want to get you all involved because we might end up with a price on our head. I couldn't risk that happening to any of you. I wouldn't forgive myself." The astromechs response to that statement was to run right into her shin. "Ow! Watch it you pile of scrap!" But Fifi had no further retorts. It wheeled over to the sensor suite console and plugged in. She just sighed again, knowing that anything else she said would be lost on the irreverent little droid. As much of a nuisance as Fifi could be, Nova knew the R5 was just looking out for her. It was comforting, in a really irritating sort of way.

"Alright then. I wonder how long we're supposed to wait or whatever," she mused out loud.

Roth Likonis​

 

[Roth Likonis]

"Oh, I have no intention of letting either of you fly. You've already admitted to being a pirate. And if this droid is hanging out with you, then I expect about the same level of morality is embedded in its core processing. I don't care how efficient you are, this is my ship. That means my rules. You want something to do, PLOT-6? You can plug into the co-pilot's chair and start plotting courses. Anyone using the starboard station automatically has guest privileges which will enable you to look at starcharts and navigate but not much else. Now get down that hallway."

"E Chu Ta!" Was the droid's only response before turning away from the pair. Following the huttese insult was a series of mechanical clicks and chirps - high-frequency data stream emissions packed with information. It seemed that normal binary and aural communication didn't suffice when it came to insults. Before PLOT-6 turned the corner, though, it offered one final retort, "And he's hardly a pirate. Thief is a better title. Isn't that right, 'Moonfish?'"

Jashin had more or less ignored the behavior (indeed, aside from retorts and derision, the droid seemed to acquiesce to the request), but at the mention of "Moonfish", the purple haired scoundrel drew in a breath, muttered a curse, and leveled the blaster he had been working on at the droid. "Screw you, bolt brain!" But the droid was already around the corner, a mocking mechanical laugh adding insult to injury as it plugged into the co-pilot's station. Blowing a strand of hair out of his face, lowering the weapon, Jashin flashed a rude gesture in the droid's direction before holstering the blaster and crossing his arms. "More trouble than he's worth. Should've shot him."

As the droid moved along, Nova's glance returned solely to Jashin. "You too, come on. There's some crew quarters you can stay while we wait. Where's the EM modulator?"

"Not here. Not anywhere. Have to build it." Jashin pushed off the wall, shrugging as he did so. "What I'm building isn't exactly...legal? Or standard? Outlaw Tech." Said Jashin, referring to the home built and illegal systems made in black market shipyards and warehouses. "Droid probably already ordered the items we need. I'll put them together."

Jashin flashed a critical eye at the woman, before smiling tightly. "You're...going to go over every component, aren't you." Jashin held up a hand before she could answer. "Doesn't matter. It's your ship; I get it. Ever heard of shield camouflage? Old smuggler's trick. You use sensors to take a reading of a nearby nebula - get its energy frequency. An attached EM modulator remodulates and retunes ship shields to the right frequency, and bam...you look like stellar dust on sensors. Great for sneaking up on people. In the right situations, anyway."

"The first door on the left or right are each bunks. Take your pick. Make yourself right at home."

Jashin looked grateful, and flashed a smile, but shook his head declining the offer. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't sleep before a heist. Don't exactly trust anybody, especially whatever hoodlums we're going to be taking on." Jashin's jaw clenched at that; the additions being quite unwelcome to him, apparently. "You better get back to the cockpit. I'll stick to the hallway." Jashin unholstered his blaster once more, once again fiddling with settings, leaning back against the bulkhead as he did so.

------------------------

In the cockpit, PLOT-6 had astutely ignored the human woman's exchange with the - in PLOT-6's opinion, much inferior - R5 droid. As far as PLOT was concerned, he was the only droid aboard the ship - all others were over glorified toolboxes that had, in infinite moronic human wisdom, been given the gift of binary speech.

"Alright then. I wonder how long we're supposed to wait or whatever"

"I have been in communication with both parties, captain." The emphasis the droid put on the title showed, if just slightly, its peevishness towards being relegated to co-pilot. "The Casini hired guns are arriving as we speak; the parts needed will be delivered in two." It seemed pleased at its planning; and, indeed, if there was a positive benefit to having PLOT-6 around, it was his punctuality. With an electronic beep of an internal comm, it inclined its head. "I have notified Jashin of this as well." With that, the droid went back to ignoring the pair.

Nova Casamyr

 

[Nova Casamyr]

"You're...going to go over every component, aren't you."

Nova had almost been quick enough to respond before the not-so-pirate cut her off. Yes. She was absolutely going to take it apart and put it back together and learn every nook and cranny of any piece of tech that crossed the threshold onto her ship. She would do that even if the gadget was legal. Inquisitiveness was in her nature. And technology was cool. She liked knowing how things worked. Maybe if she could come up with a legal application of the same technology, she could adapt something similar to be used on Oasis in the future. After all, any upgrade was worth considering as long as it didn't get her boarded by local authorities.

As Fifi twooted and twoddled and grunted and groaned its way through the startup procedures, Nova thanked PL0T-6 for the update. She caught the intended slight from the droid but didn't acknowledge the insult. If the foreign droid didn't like the rules on her ship, then too bad. Nova might not have the greatest business sense, but she knew not to turn over full control of her family's ship to a complete stranger. Still, a sense of disappointment and melancholy accompanied the unease that she felt. This was far from the way she preferred to do business. Legality and mob involvement aside, she was sure that, had she and Jashin just shared a drink in the cantina, they probably would have had a fine conversation and she would have returned to her ship feeling pretty good about her stop to Kafrene. But trouble just seemed to have a way of worming itself into situations without any sort of say so.

There was also the circumstance to consider. The pair of unlikely new crew might not be to blame for their getting tangled in the mess with the Casini family. Maybe they, too, just had the misfortune of poor timing. As she left the cockpit she spoke clearly and plainly. "You have the bridge, Fifi." Still. Trusting a strange droid was a bad idea. Letting something with that kind of processing power, speed, and efficiency access could be catastrophic and she just couldn't take that risk. Not with her parent's ship. She walked off the bridge as a chime sounded, indicating the arrival of more visitors.

Jashin was still waiting in the hallway. "Let's meet our guests, shall we?" Her tone bore the melancholy she felt. Nova couldn't walk a few more steps without adding: "Sorry for my... standoffishness. I don't... I'm not a criminal. Every job I take is a legal one. Being tied to anything that might jeopardize that puts me on edge. I don't blame you for getting caught up in all of this. But I'm also not happy about it either. I hope that you don't take it personally."

Roth Likonis​