The Areta: Never A Dull Moment (CLOSED \ Scrapped Thread, See OOC)

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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CoCo Town, Coruscant, Corusca Sector, The Core Worlds​

Interacting With: [member=Dewbacca], [member='Fidelis'], [member='Irma Olanthe'], [member='Meira'], [member='Lyla Quinn'], [member='Tin'tinag'], [member='Ghorua the Shark'], [member='Kip Ridel'], [member='Saul Ferasi']​

Aryn merely smirked at the roars and growls that came from his companion. There was a degree of amusement on the Jedi's face as he saw those nearby cut a widespread around the Wookiee, clearly very few people around them actually understood the walking carpet, and his rather simple response was coming off as much more aggressive to many of them than it really was. Falling in behind the Wookiee, Aryn began to follow behind as his friend and ally cleared the way ahead of them towards the landing pads. "I'll send them a message, make sure they're not already full-up." He replied simply with a smile as he looked back down to the datapad in his hand, briefly typing in a message displaying his interest in signing on as a passenger, along with details of their planned destination.

Lowering the datapad to his side, Aryn took a brief moment to adjust his belt so that his lightsaber was better-hidden under his jacket. It was not uncommon these days to see Jedi wandering about, especially on a world like Coruscant where the New Jedi Order made their home, however, he knew well enough that when it came to finding transport on less-reputable vessels, it was sometimes more difficult if one was openly capable of using the force. As a result, he'd ensured he fit more into the appearance of an average spacer, his jacket over his old flight suit and a blaster strapped to his thigh as he blended in with the vast majority of the crowd wandering through the landing pads. A few years ago, and he would have been wandering around looking for work, hailing down starship captains in search of pilots to get from place to place, or just to get some food or credits. Those days were long behind Aryn however, not to say he didn't miss the cockpit every now and then.

It wasn't too long of a walk until Aryn set eyes upon the YT-775 that they had been searching for. He had flown one of the same class early in his career as a pilot, and had clear memories of it being an abhorrent piece of durasteel to fly. Indeed, he recalled that anyone actually capable of doing anything worthwhile with the ship had to be quite a skilled pilot, or just a madman. As he shifted his gaze past Dew, towards the end of the ship's ramp, he set his gaze upon the three figures standing at the base of the ship. The Twi'lek he recognized from the ship's profile as the captain, the other two he did not recognize, but it mattered little to him as Aryn brought Dew up towards the ship, crossing his arms over his chest as he reached down into his pocket, already fiddling with and counting a few credits in his hand. It was always best to make a good first impression in his mind, after all, and what better impression was there than a man willing to spend?

 

[Meira]

As she clambered into the back of the hauler, Meira took a moment to ponder over whether the nickname Irma had given her was due to her status as the ships mechanic or her visibly artificial limbs. It didn't take her long to categorize the answer as 'irrelevant', and at the pilot's strange choice of idle conversation topic, she poked her head through the window to the vehicle's pilot compartment and gave the woman a look. You know the one.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you even know what she is. Most mooks just write her off as kriffing scary and leave it at that."

Reaching through the window, she planted a hand on the roof and pulled herself through with more agility and grace than was probably strictly possible, then took a seat.

"Weirder than a twi-lek half-breed, a midget cyborg, a special forces sniper, and a storm trooper all crewing up together?"

Or at least, she assumed the pilot was former special forces. She wasn't disciplined enough for rank and file, not like Fidelis, but you didn't get the kind of skills she had without some serious training. Probably some kind of black ops poodoo, if she had to guess. Which she did, if we're being honest.

"Was that a karking Herglic back there?"

[member="Irma Olanthe"] - [member="Lyla Quinn"] - [member="Fidelis"] - [member="Ghorua the Shark"] - [member="Saul Ferasi"] - [member="Kip Ridel"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Dewbacca"] - [member="Tin'tinag"]​

 

[Kip Ridel]

The Jablogian in black fled across the market and the Ambassador followed...

With every passing few steps, the grunting creature turned to look back over his shoulder, only to see a grinning Kip catching up with him. He heaved his rotund form around sharp corners, knocking down crates for Kip to dodge and hurdle over along the way. With heavy heaves and grunts, and with a red complexion turning all the redder, it sprinted past two people climbing into a hauler.

Just as Kip approached, the engines of the hauler kicked on, forcing him back a step. “Come on...come on...” Kip grumbled just as the hauler took off. But just as the vehicle cleared out of his way, Kip lost sight of the large creature.

With another growl of frustration, Kip began to run again, checking down different turns to see where the Jablogian went. “Nothin’ to it,Kip ol’ boy, just follow your nose.”

Much to Kip’s fortune, Jablogians were not built for high-speed movement. He was quite literally able to pick up on his target’s scent. As he turned the next right, he found a rather sparsely populated beverage establishment. His pace slowed, allowing him to regain himself and his breaths before making his way inside.

The establishment was modest, as was the amount of lighting it leant to the patrons. Some beams of natural light made their way in through the ceiling, but aside from a minor ambience from some overhead lamps, the lighting was most certainly not catered for human eyes. Kip could make out some details of tables with plates left half-empty and drinks on the bar still full. The bar tending droid carried about its work cleaning each glass individually.

“Look, Telgogan...Tel,” Kip said as he slowly made his way in, searching the dimly lit area, “You and I both know I’m no bounty hunter. I’m just a guy with a message. I’m an ambassador. My job’s just to talk. Let me do my job, you can do your job and we can both go home happily alive and employed. Deal?”

There was no response. Only the huffs and puffs of a very winded Jablogian.

Kip reached to his side, pulling out a small, metal cylinder from his belt. He pressed a button discreetly before bolstering it again. “Tel. I’m asking nicely. You and I both know what’ll happen if you don’t get this message. I’m gonna have to keep chasing you, you’re going to have to keep running. Nobody wants that.”

From the corner of his eye, Kip saw a looming shadow. But it wasn’t the silhouette of his target. Instead, it was something much taller...and horned. A very strong hand grabbed Kip and lifted him straight off of the ground, slamming him down onto the bar. As the creature came into view, Kip could see the features of a very surly Koorivar.

Kip coughed hard, trying to get the wind back into his lungs. After a few struggled breaths, he coughed out a laugh, “You know,” he choked out, “This sort of reminds me of a joke. A Jablogian, a Human, and a Koorivar all walk into a b....aaaagh.”

The hand holding Kip down against the bar squeezed down into his chest. Immediately, Kip could hear the whine of a blaster powering up.

“I have a message for him,” The Koorivar said as it brought the blaster closer. “I’m taking the rest of the supplies.”

Kip coughed harder at the pressure of the hand on his chest. The creature released slightly, allowing Kip to get some air. “Ohhh, I don’t recommend that. Bad things happen to those who cross-“

The Koorivar pressed the blaster up to Kip’s head as he interrupted, “And I’m taking the life of his favorite messenger boy.”

“Whoa whoa wait wait...” Kip choked out, pleadingly. He blinked, looking over at the gun, “Who sold you that gun? Did Chako sell that to you?”

“Goodbye, Ambassador” The Koorivar squeezed the trigger, but instead of decorating the bar with Kip’s brain matter, the blaster sent a charge through the Koorivar’s body, halting his cardiovascular system. Soundlessly, the hulking horned man dropped to his knees.

Kip knelt down, picking up the blaster with his less trembling hand. “Gotta hand it to Chako. Cheap weapons dealer, but man, does he know how to make sure his guns won’t be used against him. Am I right?” Kip withdrew the metal device from his belt again and bounced it off of the Koorivar’s horn.

The Koorivar said nothing. It simply choked as its body struggled to recover from the shock. Kip knelt down in front of him, whispering, “Like I said, bad things happen to those who cross....ah, well, it doesn’t matter. Bad business is bad business, right? So here’s a counter offer. He’s taking everything. Your shares. Your assets. And maybe even your life. Think on that while you sleep.”

Kip slammed his stiff hand against the side of the Koorivar’s head. It collided with a good smack, but the horned creature simply grimaced as it glared up at Kip. Meanwhile, his hand lit up in pain, “Aggggh...” He struck again, this time with the butt of the blaster, and the man went down.

Kip tossed the blaster aside and rubbed his hand, feeling the trembling simmer down to a dull swell. The frozen cybernetic fingers came alive. He flexed his fingers. “Finally...” he sighed and stepped over the unconscious body. “Tel? Tel, you okay buddy?”

The large Jablogian stepped out from the shadows, box in hand. “Yes....but you could have slowed down a bit.”

“No can do, buddy. Had to make it look real.” Kip laughed, as he approached the portly man, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thanks for being my bait. Sorry about your boss.”

“To be honest,” panted Tel, “I never liked him anyway. Pays terribly.”

“Well, you’ve got a new boss now. Take it from me, he pays.” Kip said, before his eyes looked down at the box. “Nice touch.” He said, looking at the words. “‘Areta”...who’s that?”

“It’s my mother.” The Jablogian said. “I took this from her house.” He opened the box, showing some tasteless jewelry.

Kip laughed heartily, giving the Jablogian another clap on the shoulder. “You better get those back to her. And uh...keep your communications open. You’ll have a job offer soon.” He stepped over the body again, laughing as he made his way out of the bar and into the open light.

Casually, he drew out a com link from his pocket. “R3,” he said, waiting for a series of confirmation beeps. “Go ahead and send the recording.” He paused, drawing in a breath of air, “Also, see if you can get someone willing to pick up a body and drop it off somewhere in the outer rim.” Another pause, as he gazed toward the direction of the air hub. “And see if you can find me a ship off of here. No, I don’t care where.”

He lowered the com link and smiled, “‘Areta’. That’s a nice name.”

 

[Tin'tinag]

Interacting with: [member="Aryn Teth"] l [member="Dewbacca"]
Nearby: [member="Fidelis"] l [member="Ghorua the Shark"] l @Lyla Quinn
Some where else: [member="Kip Ridel"] l [member="Meira"] l [member="Irma Olanthe"]

Tin stared down one of the stall vendors as she deliberated over the price a specific type o fruit she liked, the old geezer setting his prices a little to high for her liking, something not uncommon with old folk, probably remembered the day when the core worlds where under the threat of the One Sith. Would probably make sense back then as shipping lanes where blocked and planets security was much higher, as such their would be low supply but high demand, but is seemed said old fart had not gotten get the memo about the war ending, making for a rather frustrating talk.

"Look old timer, sure something like this would have cost this much about 20 years ago, heck maybe 4 years ago when the First Order was knocking on the GAs door, but were are in a peaceful time now".

"Just becuse times have changed does not mean my prices have, people bought it then at that price".

She placed a hand on her forehead, sighing slightly, "That ain't the point, Its called a supply and demand thing, you have crate loads of this stuff in back, I can see it, and there does not seem to be a huge line of customers waiting to buy from you" 'probably from his outrageous prices'. "Keep this up and you won't be making any credits today".

"Ha don't try that with me, their a plenty of people that still pay good money for this, higher prices also mean people know its good quality", he let out a small chuckle, this guy was very full of himself.

"Your selling this stuff in CoCo town, not really the best demographic wandering around here, and those with a decent amount in the bank just buy from private people, not some street stall, so I am saying again, LOWER YOUR PRICE ON THIS, or go bankrupt, your call".

"No deal miss and their ain't anything you ca-, what are you doing"?

"You will lower the prices on all your stock to a reasonable" her hand slowly waving past the mans face, ".... I will lower the price on my stock to a reasonable level", "Good, now, Ill take four of those". She handed over the credits for HER price before walking off with the attained produce, "Whelp, off to the space port I guess, ain't finding a crew around here.

With a small skip in her step she turned around towards her original goal, loaded up with some personal good and belongings, keeping an eye out for old class looking ships, ones that where worn, or looked to have some sort of use to them, that was how you knew the captain was relabel, new and classy looking freighters did not tend to last long, usually having some hot head behind the wheel that though they could take on every they meet.

Coming closer to the port two things caught her perceptive eye, and old model YT-775, looked to have landed not long ago, and old classic and the fact it was still flying must meant its owner took goo care of it, but the other thing that stood out were two people eyeing the ship up, a man, that she felt something about, and a Wookie, its brown fur contrasting greatly with the steal landscape. 'Hmm have not seen a Wookie in a while, this will be fun, I wonder who that man is anyways'? She quietly walked up behind the man as he eyed the ship from afar, "Ahh a classic isn't she, probably flown more light years than most ships around, I'd pay good money to fly one of those, ya think their taking people on bored, haha, sorry bout that, say, you look familiar". Getting a closer look at the man she had this feeling she had seen his face before, if not in person, somewhere in a file maybe?

 

[Fidelis]

"And surprise! We've got three of their men coming aboard as well. Apparently, they're to stay with the cargo at all times, so keep an eye on 'em but give them their space. You take this end, I'll take the ramp, looks like a big haul but we've got plenty of room. Try to get them to leave some walking room!"

Fidelis knew the loaders when he saw them, arriving just as Captain Quinn had begun what looked like negotiations with the Herglic. Taking the lead was an older Iridonian Zabrak with a single broken horn, dressed simply and scarred heavily, carrying a small blaster in a simple leather holster. The gargoyle-looking horn-head stopped near the far end of the cargo hold, given Fidelis just enough space to not warrant the former Stormtrooper leveling his blaster at the man. He turned around and beckoned the other two loaders inside from there. Fidelis watched as a second Zabrak made his way up the ramp, this one a Dathomiri if the red and black markings were anything to go by, wearing a slapdash set of armor that exposed entirely too much overworked musculature and carrying a large pistol with an assortment of bells and whistles slapped haphazardly onto the frame. Just behind the second Zabrak was a large binary load lifter; a massive, boxy droid with more rust than paint on it, carrying several boxes that each looked more valuable than the droid itself, to say nothing of whatever cargo Captain Quinn had been contracted to transport.

The older Iridonian was clearly the head of the operation here. With no protection to speak of beyond the half-instant his saffron shirt would provide him, and no immediately obvious armament beyond his pistol, Fidelis was sure that this one wouldn't be a threat. Moreover, if the Iridonian was the one in charge, odds were good that the entire voyage would be a smooth one if they both acknowledged what the score was. There were no immediately obvious modifications to the loader droid, either. Typically, one could spot weld marks and additional panels that might lend themselves to hidden weaponry, or - as Fidelis knew all too well - modifications that turned such droids into walking bombs. The binary lifter seemed to be little more than that, and as it turned to begin offloading its cargo at the location indicated by the Iridonian, Fidelis saw the half-faded paint marks that identified the machine as a rental. It wouldn't be coming with them. But the Dathomiri Zabrak - who was spending his time prowling around the cargo hold and staring at Fidelis with a face that looked like whatever cloning vat he'd crawled out of had thrown a few extra chromosomes his way - that was keeping the soldier on edge. He wasn't helping. He wasn't even looking at the cargo as it was offloaded. All he was doing was making a show of himself, letting the Areta's enforcer know exactly what he was in for if it came to a fight.

As the load lifter continued its work, Fidelis briefly turned his attention to Captain Quinn's position. All still looked well over there.

The captain marked safe, the Stormtrooper looked to the nearest of the crates that the binary lifter had dropped off. It was exquisite; a polished metal shell with no immediately obvious seams, easily tall and wide enough to fit Fidelis in. Fidelis had not been with Captain Quinn long, but he could tell in an instant that this was not the kind of cargo she was used to transporting. If it had been, they would all be flying around in a yacht as opposed to a barely-spaceworthy scrap heap.

[member="Irma Olanthe"] - [member="Lyla Quinn"] - [member="Fidelis"] - [member="Ghorua the Shark"] - [member="Saul Ferasi"] - [member="Kip Ridel"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Dewbacca"] - [member="Tin'tinag"]​

 

[Fidelis]

x

 

[Eshtaol]

LOCATION: CoCo District, Coruscant
BACKFLIPPING NEAR: [member="Lyla Quinn"] | [member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"] | [member="Fidelis"] | Tell me if I missed you

Spoiler

OOC: let me know if I missed something out/need to edit, I was definitely scatterbrained writing this >.>

Saoirse Flynn was an avoider.

Conflicts were messy by nature, messier still to resolve - but getting rid of them? That, on the other hand, was simple. See, you took the problem. You stored it away somewhere, a box, a drawer, some kind of compartment. And then you locked it up tight, threw the key into an ocean, and threw the box into a separate, bigger ocean.

Simple.

"What're you looking at?"

Then again, there weren't many oceans this side of Coruscant.

She was looking at two men (one man and a corpse?), both armed, both bloodied, one standing. There had been a fight - the details were missing, but it looked just a shade more planned than the street brawls she'd find anywhere else in the city - and she had been there by accident. Wrong place, wrong time. But she was there all the same.

"-nothing," she bit out, calmer than she felt.

He was muttering now. "Weren't supposed to- shouldn't have seen-"

"I didn't." In her mind, it sounded like a question.

He glared.

There was her answer.

She ran.

Down alleys, across roads, round the twists and turns of a dozen winding streets, trying to look over her shoulder without losing her balance. The streets were unfamiliar - but then, making a break for it was the opposite.

The Airhub wound up her hiding place purely for being large, crowded, and where she found herself when her stamina expired. She couldn't have guessed whether the threat was gone yet, but Saoirse didn't believe in the uncertainty of a needless risk. No, if nothing else it would set her mind at ease to stay out of sight a while longer.

A few minutes wandering, every step casual and certain as though she were walking with any direction in mind, and paranoia was fading before-

-tall, the right build, was that a gun?-

-she skidded and ducked around the first transport she laid eyes on.

So much for avoiding.

 

[The Girl In Green]

"Was that a karking Herglic back there?"

"I know, right?!?"

Irma jumped onto the topic with the kind of cheerful abandon seen in children, or maybe certain kinds of Mandalorian when given a new gun. "Big guy like that's gon' give me all kinds of trouble with the weight balance. I'll have to talk to the Captain about his sleeping arrangements, map out appropriate ballasting for takeoff..." She turned and flashed Meira her widest grin yet. "I've always wondered about the body density of sentients that size. Think he'll even fit in the galley?"

Inwardly, she thanked her stars the mechanic had given her something fun to talk about, instead of harping on about how she knew what Blackstalkers were...or whether or not she was special forces somewhere.

***
​

The ride into the markets was smooth and uneventful. Hoping to avoid unnecessary questions, Irma filled the space rambling about the Areta's flight capacities and her calculations for the next batch of cargo, expressing her appreciation of Meira's work on the hyperdrive systems, complaining about the comm interface and planning its updates out loud. Meanwhile, she trusted her hands to operate on their own, maneuvering the hauler easily through the cramped side streets of CoCo Town as they went. In five and a half minutes, the open-air markets were visible just ahead, and nothing stood between the two of them and their grocery list.

....Well, almost nothing. As they cruised through the final intersection before the produce market, a man in a long coat stepped out into the middle of the street, whipping out a comlink and speaking into it like he didn't have a hauler bearing down on him right that second. Irma swore and slammed on the brakes, the sudden stop flinging her bodily forward into the steering apparatus. There were other thunks somewhere behind her, which probably meant that Meira would not be too happy with their...arrival.

"Hey, buddy!" Rubbing her forehead, Irma leaned out the side of the hauler to scowl at the jaywalker with all the venom she could muster. "Bantha fodder stays on the curb! You trying to get yourself run over?!?"


With: [member="Meira"], [member="Kip Ridel"]

Out of Range: [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member="Fidelis"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Saul Ferasi"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member="Dewbacca"], [member="Tin'tinag"], [member="Saoirse Flynn"]

 

[Lyla Quinn]

The Players -
Interacting with: [member=Ghorua The Shark] | Up Next: [member=Saul Ferasi] , [member=Aryn Teth] and [member=Dewbacca] ( [member=Tin'tinag] has engaged them)
Nearby: [member=Saoirse Flynn] (dodging, hiding, awaiting finding, probably by [member=Fidelis] )
Out Of Range: [member=Irma Olanthe] and [member=Meira] (currently on grocery run about to interact with [member=Kip Ridel] )

Spoiler

OOC: I really appreciate everyone's patience, IC and OOC, I know we're a big group. But it's been a genuine pleasure reading everyone's work, I'm so excited you're all here, and can't wait to get all you rugrats in the same room. I do have a plan (always flexible though!), there'll be plenty for everyone to do once we hit the skies, so stick with me! <3

Ghorua the Shark?! FANGIRL MODE ACTIVATE.

No, no, chill. We're gonna be cool about this, Lyla. Cool. Like Hoth. Think icy thoughts.

In the back of her mind, Quinn wondered how many people in this 'verse had the opportunity to actually shake the hunter's hand under civil circumstances. She managed to keep the majority of her excitement to herself, but she probably shook his hand a few seconds too long and smiled a little too wide, and as her initial thrill slowly 'chilled' out, the level of respect in her gaze grew. "Lyla Quinn, proud captain of the flying tub behind me…and a huge fan of your 'work'. The honor is definitely mine." Of course she'd heard of him. Who in her line of work hadn't? The Herglic was nearly legend. Smugglers and social spacers alike often rubbed elbows with bounty hunters, so she'd made a point to familiarize herself with the professionals of the underground world years ago; if you're gonna share the same space lanes and drink at the same cantinas, makes sense to know who works in the 'same building', right?

The message application on her datapad chimed. " 'scuse me for a minute, always busy." Quinn let Ghorua's finger go (because that was about the only part she could actually get her hand around, and even that was barely halfway) and bent over the flat bit of tech for a moment, the first signs of mild anxiety bubbling in her chest. The Shark found people for a living. She couldn't help the train of thought, as much as she hated having to run through it at all, but it's hard to ignore things when they pose threats to your secrets. There was no reason to suspect her cover had been blown. Lyla Quinn was airtight, she'd made sure of it. The only people who knew anything about her true origins were on her ship, and she trusted both of them absolutely. Meira wouldn't even talk about it unless Quinn brought it up in private, and Fidelis only knew a fraction of the truth for his own protection. But the standing bounty on Ry'lana Tualin was still active as of last week, and for a seasoned elite like the Shark, well… despite her 'airtight' persona, suddenly she didn't feel so invulnerable.

Of course, it was easy to feel a little …exposed when you were standing in the shadow of a towering Herglic bristling with weapons.

She cast a quick glance at the man (Saul Ferasi) who'd arrived just a few moments after Ghorua. He didn't seem familiar with the hunter, and since he hadn't been introduced, she guessed Ghorua wasn't the type for traveling companions anyway. Sandy brown hair, chiseled features, straight-backed and chin level. There was a confident set to his shoulders that reminded Quinn of Fidelis, in a way. The Twi'lek flashed him a close-lipped smile and a small 'I'll be right with you' gesture of her hand.

Her fingers worked with speed on the glowing screen of her datapad. "Where abouts you headed, Ghorua?" Quinn asked, finishing up the return message (to Aryn Teth) with a few calculations in her head. Eriadu, hmm? Doable. Wouldn't be the fastest arrival, depending on where the Shark was headed, but it was manageable. They had plenty of guest rooms available still! "I've got a shipment due for Nar Shaddaa but it's not time sensitive. 'course, my bunks might not be your style, but my first mate and my pilot are pretty creative. Bet we could find you something comfortable and private on-board." Sent, and done. Tucking the datapad back under her arm, the Twi'lek lifted her narrow face and caught the gigantic Herglic's eyes. There was a sparkle of humor in her blue gaze to match his own. "Unless I've got you all wrong and you're just out for a heavily armored stroll."

 

[Kip Ridel]

Interacting with: [member="Irma Olanthe"], [member=Meira]
Out of Range: [member='Lyla Quinn'], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Saul Ferasi"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member=Dewbacca], [member=Tin'tinag'], [member="Saoirse Flynn"], [member=Fidelis]​

Many sentients throughout the galaxy whom Kip had encountered had discussed their near-death experiences. Most involved visions of times long past. Accompanying such flashes were feelings of dread or remorse, either for what was about to come or for things never attempted. For many, there was a sense of relief...as if the sudden realization that all was about to end appeared to them as a Tatooine oasis.

For Kip, there was no such dread. No visions of memories past or of lost loves. As the hauler barreled down upon him, it seemed to him as if time and space all converged around the gravity of that singular event. He felt cerebrally suspended, consciously unbound by time or matter, despite the temporal limitations of his physical body (which reacted as physical bodies did when danger approached: shock followed by a defensive raising of the hands).

In this vision of pseudo-timelessness, Kip saw not events, but decisions in a sort of tree, each splitting off from potential other branches. In all this, Kip saw the role he played. . . a tiny branch of existence with miniature twigs all within an endless forest. As the hauler down on him, eclipsing him in shadow, Kip found the end of his timeline in a way that he never foresaw. . . not at the hands of a greedy smuggler. Not in a prison or at the hands of a power-hungry Sith lord. But rather haphazardly, by blundering blindly onto a street with an otherwise unassuming, non-hostile vehicle ready to crush his form into an unrecognizable state.

Yet for all of his seemingly timeless introspection, his end did not come. The laws of physics had graced Kip and brought the vehicle to a rather timely halt before pulverizing his form and ending his rather short existence. Instead, Kip was faced with a second chance. Almost as if to confirm his continued existence, a head whose features were not immediately recognizable to Kip had poked out of the side of the hauler and shouted down to him.

Though dazed and with his arms lowering, Kip laughed his nerves away. "The road was looking dull and boring. " He joked, "Thought a nice coat of arterial red would liven up the place. "

He moved to the side of the vehicle, looking up again at the driver, still internally shaking off the shock of his near-death experience. "Impressive reflexes," he added, candidly. "I could use a ride with a driver who knows how to get somewhere in a hurry. Especially if that someone is looking for some extra credits. "

If there was any advantage to his brief experience in observing his own role in the existential thicket, it was the lesson to never underestimate the power of a credit when a person is in a hurry to get to the market.

 

[Meira]

"Or..."

Meira's head popped back through the cabin window from the cargo compartment, followed by half her torso and a right arm, which was rather conspicuously holding a knife.

"...we could revisit that arterial redesign concept for being a karking idiot. If you've got any friends out there waiting to jump us, go ahead and let them know it's not gonna be their day."

She took a second longer to glare metaphorical daggers at the (unfortunately) not-roadkill, then softened her expression to address Irma.

"How sure are we this isn't an ambush and he's not the bait?"

Her eyes never stopped moving through the assembled beings outside the viewports, and throughout the conversation she kept a sharp ear out for any sounds of tampering at the back of the vehicle. You could never be too careful in a place like this, but anyone dumb enough to hijack a transport carrying nothing deserved what was coming to them.

[member="Irma Olanthe"] | [member="Kip Ridel"]​

 

[Kip Ridel]

Interacting with: [member="Irma Olanthe"], [member=Meira]
Out of Range: [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Saul Ferasi"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member=Dewbacca], [member=Tin'tinag'], [member="Saoirse Flynn"], [member=Fidelis]​

Kip, who was still coming down from nearly being run over, seemed rather unfazed by Meira's accusations. He was well-lit, unarmed, and he was clearly caught off-guard by the vehicle. There was little to support any idea of him capturing the hauler. He did, however, respect the skepticism. With a pleasant smile and nod to Meira, Kip returned his gaze to the driver.

"You can take me along for a hearty share of credits or move along and I'll give my money to someone else. It doesn't matter to me either way." His eyes conveyed a genuineness of intention. "It just seems fair to me that you get decently compensated for having, as I mentioned earlier, extremely impressive reflexes."

With a cheeky grin, he held up his com link and shook it a bit. "Do we have a deal or should I call for a ride?"

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua took [member="Lyla Quinn"]'s hand softly, making sure not to crush her digits. He noticed the underlying excitement exuding from her, and grinned sharply. Ghorua didn't have much of an ego, but what ego he did possess was stoked. He didn't get many positive reactions from people recognizing him. Mostly, it was criminals and assorted scum that scurried away as soon as they saw his face. If the woman was at all nervous, she hid it well.

The change was nice.

Lyla excused herself, and Ghorua nodded. "Of course." The behemoth looked over his shoulder, examining [member="Saul Ferasi"] disinterestedly. He noted the human's stance, his attire, and his patience. He offered a subtle nod of greeting, and turned his attention back to the Twi'lek, who was busying herself with a datapad. He took in the scents of the area through his blowhole, noting the subtle smells of tibanna, and the endless amalgamation of fragrances in CoCo Town. Each species had a different aroma, each food a different flavor, each crate a different story. Coruscant had always been a bit of a melting pot, a place for the entire galaxy to rub shoulders, the hub of the universe. For Ghorua's acute senses, it could be overwhelming sometimes. Today, however, he found it calming.

The captain turned back, and the Shark listened as she spoke, offering a light chuckle as she joked with him. "Nar Shaddaa, eh?" Ghorua crossed his arms over his chest, helmet gripped in one of his massive fists. "Well, I'm headed to Selvaris. It's not too far from here."

That was where Orin's hideout was. Ghorua had avoided it up until now, trying instead to catch him outside the safety of his home, but he'd had enough. He was going for the heart of Orin's operation.

Black eyes met blue as Ghorua observed the smuggler, realizing just how similar their gazes were. "No, I'm afraid I don't have time for strolls these days." He smirked, his head turning to the Areta. "I'm on the job. Which is why I would appreciate it if you kept my passage on your ship... private. I'll compensate you for your trouble."

On any other day, Ghorua would crack a joke about the state of Lyla's ship, or even slyly let slip something he had learned from his databanks of knowledge, but not today. His failure to capture Orin was still fresh in his mind, and he was getting tired of theatrics. It showed on the Herglic's face, in the form of hard lines, and slight bags under his eyes.

"If you have room for me, I'll happily fill it."

- [member="Kip Ridel"] - [member="Meira"] - [member="Irma Olanthe"] - [member="Saoirse Flynn"] - [member="Fidelis"] - [member="Tin'tinag"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Dewbacca"] -

 

[Fidelis]

"If you have room for me, I'll happily fill it."

Oh, that you will, you massive son of a bi-

Fidelis's train of thought was forced to a sudden halt when he saw the binary load lifter stop with a loud hiss just as it stepped off of the ship's boarding ramp. It wasn't the stop that caught his attention so much as it was the sudden lack of motion; things that stopped generally decelerated, and then shunted back a bit as the stop completed. The droid simply stopped moving altogether. Fidelis took in a sharp breath and visibly stiffened, forcing his entire body to stop from drawing a bead on the smug Dathomiri Zabrak. He exhaled with a low growl, forcing himself to come to his senses, relaxing his body as the tunnel vision cleared and the pulse lowered. Finishing the reset with an eye roll, Fidelis stormed across the cargo hold to the older Iridonian. The soldier moved with such ferocity that the more unassuming of the Great Ravaeli's men had his hand on his pistol when Fidelis finally reached him.

"What is this?"

Fidelis's tone left no room for interpretation as to his mood. The Great Ravaeli had a reputation and held the purse strings, that much was true. What was also true was that Captain Quinn had a reputation of her own. The Areta was a reliable ship with reliable crew; they got the job done with minimal fuss, modest fees, and no questions asked. While the medic himself didn't do too terribly much that lent to such a reputation, it was one that Fidelis was not about to have sullied by a broken droid. Broken droid led to delayed takeoff. Delayed takeoff led to prolonged travel (and, as Captain Quinn had pointed out, the possibility of an unwanted arrest). Prolonged travel meant more room for problems. And Fidelis had spent enough time in the First Order to know that there was only one acceptable margin for error.

"Belay that. I don't care. This ship is scheduled to lift off in fifteen minutes, and it will. With or without the rest of the cargo. Towards the aft is the cargo elevator, I'll lower it and you can get the rest of your crates into the ship from there."

Without giving either Zabrak time for a response, Fidelis marched up the ramp and back into the cargo hold, towards a small and rusty control panel. He made sure to stay clear of the red markings on the ship's deck as he flipped a red switch and lowered a lever. With a loud ker-chunk and the whirring of hydraulics, the Areta's cargo elevator lowered to the landing pad below. One of the larger crates on the ship had still been on the elevator when it was lowered, which Fidelis wasn't especially keen on; it was big and heavy enough that he had been counting on it as cover for the firefight he'd envisioned against the broken horned Zabrak and his over-muscled and under-educated Dathomiri friend. Time, however, was becoming more of a factor by the second. And Fidelis was not about to be the reason - or enable the reason - that their reputation suffered.

To say nothing of the flashback that their damned rental droid almost caused. As the elevator stopped lowering, Fidelis closed his eyes and forcibly shook his head. The sooner they were airborne, the better.

Line of Sight: [member="Lyla Quinn"] / [member="Ghorua the Shark"] / [member="Saul Ferasi"]
Area of Operation: [member="Saoirse Flynn"] / [member="Dewbacca"] / [member="Aryn Teth"] / [member="Tin'tinag"]
Out of Range: [member="Kip Ridel"] / [member="Meira"] / [member="Irma Olanthe"]

 

[The Girl In Green]

​

"You can take me along for a hearty share of credits or move along and I'll give my money to someone else. It doesn't matter to me either way." His eyes conveyed a genuineness of intention. "It just seems fair to me that you get decently compensated for having, as I mentioned earlier, extremely impressive reflexes."

With a cheeky grin, he held up his com link and shook it a bit. "Do we have a deal or should I call for a ride?"

That smug little grin did it. Irma shot a meaningful glance back at Meira, then slid down out of the driver's seat and into the street. With her hands stuffed in her pockets, she made her way around the hauler until she was only inches away from the young man's face. Her prominent eyes scanned his face for only a moment, before she stepped back and let him have it.
"Well, miss," she said, echoing his smirk with one of her own. The jibe was an easy one, considering how long this prettyboy kept his hair, but it wasn't like she was looking for something meaningful. "We'd be happy to let you ride along to where we're going, but there's one teeny, tiny complication."

Irma finally withdrew one of her hands from her pocket and pointed over his shoulder. Three storefronts down, the produce market was clearly visible, with displays of fresh fruit and seafood clearly visible up front and center.

"We're going over there. So if you'll kindly get out of the road..." With that, she sidled past him and made her way down the street, making a point to angle herself towards the curb. She was not about to wait on this guy's manners to start working on their supply list. After all, a glance at the list Quinn had given her gave her the idea that they needed all the time they can get--the hardware suppliers in this town were hard negotiators. "Come on, Meira. Any passengers the Captain gets won't be happy if we're late."

With: [member="Meira"], [member="Kip Ridel"]
Out Of Range: [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member="Fidelis"], [member="Saul Ferasi"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member="Dewbacca"], [member="Tin'tinag"], [member="Saoirse Flynn"]

 

[Kip Ridel]

Interacting with: [member="Irma Olanthe"], [member=Meira]
Out of Range: [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Saul Ferasi"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member=Dewbacca], [member=Tin'tinag'], [member="Saoirse Flynn"], [member=Fidelis]

Throughout his years of bargaining on behalf of many various interests, Kip had been accused of many things. But pettiness was not chief among them. Pettiness was for those who played their game one hand at a time. And while his pride and ego did feel a twinge (particularly, because his efforts, while not altruistic, were mutually beneficial), he simply felt any further pressing to be a waste of time. Even the power of a credit diminishes in the face of overbearing pride.

Passively, he stepped aside from his spot at the side of the vehicle and made a fanciful gesture, indicating silently for her to proceed as she wished. Flashing her one last polite smile, he raised his com link and spoke walking away slowly, “R3, did the funds from the last job transfer yet?” After a pause and a confirmation beep, he answered, “Good. Find me a transport to the air hub.”

With one last glance in the direction of the hauler’s occupants, he added, “Give them one-hundred twenty percent of their asking price. Thank them for their haste and generosity.”

Kip was not typically a petty person, he reminded himself. But sometimes life deals you a hand that you can’t help but play.

 

[Eshtaol]

LOCATION: Hiding behind the Areta and Totally Not Eavesdropping
NEARBY: [member="Lyla Quinn"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"] | [member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Fidelis"]

Saoirse's saving grace was going unseen. The ability to hide, to become invisible, to somehow shift attention away from her and onto somebody else, was really the sole reason she'd made it this far. Oh, she could fight when she had to--you certainly didn't make it this far if you couldn't deal with some fisticuffs--but she wasn't a fighter, not in that sense. When she had to strike, it was from the shadows.

Not that she was striking right now, of course. Saoirse was crouched behind a ship trying to pick up the conversations around her, turning her head impulsively as she looked for anyone too familiar. The words layered over each other, but she caught snippets. This was the Flying Tub (no, that didn't sound right)- it took off in fifteen minutes.

Again, she looked over her shoulder. Maybe she was making a big fuss over nothing. Then again, maybe she wasn't. And she'd learned already that staying anywhere for too long was dangerous. Here one minute, gone the next. Her safety was in going unseen.

She looked to the left, to the right.

It wouldn't work.

Wouldn't it?

The medic went up the ramp and Saoirse counted heartbeats before backs were turned and she could dart up after him. If she made it that far unnoticed (the odds of that in itself were far lower than she cared to admit) she'd race to find a hiding place.

This would end badly. So, so badly. Saoirse Flynn was too sober for this.

 

[Meira]

Narrowed eyes followed the nearly-roadkill as he stepped away and continued his journey. She had never been the sort that could be accurately described as "trusting".

"Hey, Flightstick! Wait up!"

Finally turning away as he disappeared around a corner, she slid out of the hauler and followed the pilot into the market.

"You grab the tasty bits and I'll find the bulk stuff, deal? Deal."

Without actually giving the other woman the chance to respond, she ducked into the crowd and disappeared almost immediately among the citizens. Due in no small part to the fact that almost all of them were at least half a head taller than she.

[member="Irma Olanthe"] | [member="Kip Ridel"]​

 

[The Girl In Green]

Irma bit back her natural response at being told what to do, watching the little mechanic weave her way through the crowd that filled the produce market. That prettyboy had already given her enough opportunity for snark for the day, and she actually liked Meira. She didn't want to bungle that particular working relationship again. She ruffled the back of her hair, then decided to just go browse through the produce instead. Meira, and thus the Captain, had just trusted Irma with their produce budget--which meant that there was no stopping her from getting as much citrus as she wanted.

After all, scurvy was nasty in space, right?

****​

​

It didn't take long for Irma to raid the shop, picking through fruits, vegetables, and meat with a practiced relish. She'd even pocketed one of the precious citrus fruits gleaming in one of the front stalls, sneaking furtive smells of its tangy rind as she went. The markets in CoCo Town were familiar with the practice of delivering purchases to ships, which left her with free hands and plenty of free time.

...Well, not entirely free. Quinn had left Irma with a list of her own, of stuff that couldn't exactly be purchased alongside the eggs. Irma brought up the touchpad and scrolled through the list with a quizzical expression, angling towards the part of the market that...well, tended to cater to a slightly-less-savory sort. The Captain must not be anticipating a smooth trip if she was looking to re-charge the turbolaser turret, let alone refill the torpedo tubes. She'd have to do this discreetly.

Irma pulled her collar up to shield her face and sidled her way into a shop guarded by a grungy Rodian, flashing him a grin as she went. He...didn't grin in response.

Please, she thought to herself, don't let this go pear-shaped.



With: Meira, Kip Ridel

Out Of Range: Lyla Quinn, Fidelis, Saul Ferasi, Ghorua the Shark, Aryn Teth, Dewbacca, Tin'tinag, Saoirse Flynn

 

[Meira]

With her hood pulled up and her hands jammed into her pockets, she tried to present as small a silhouette as she could manage while moving quickly through the crowds. Which, in all honesty, was pretty karking small. She often wondered if that was why her Father had given her this particular body. Sure, it was almost identical to her original one, but she'd seen the things he did to the others. What he turned them into. He always had a reason for everything, and it had not escaped her notice that this tiny body let her move almost anywhere with little to no hassle.

"You lost, little girl?"

Kark.

She knew that tone. She had been a little girl in the undercity once, and that was not the tone of reassurance. That was duplicity and filth wrapped in a thick layer of vile. She kept walking, only just realizing that she'd absently taken a shortcut through this alley to avoid the crowds.

"Hey little girl, I sai..." "Leave it alone, Meer. We'll get the next one."

That stopped her in her tracks. Next one? Next One! Ohhh, boy... You karking little...

She whirled on the spot and flung herself at the resident slimeballs, a furious wail erupting from her throat.


**********************************************************************************


When she left the alley a minute later, her hoodie had a small rip at the shoulder and three new stains.

Serves them karking right.

Oddly enough, the episode left her mood a bit on the sour side and she didn't have much trouble at all haggling with the various vendors she needed to buy supplies from. Maybe they picked up on her lack of patience, or maybe she was just that good (She wasn't that good). Either way, it wasn't long before she was back at the hauler unloading her several cartfuls of supplies while she waited for Flightstick to finish up the produce shopping.

[member="Irma Olanthe"] | [member="Kip Ridel"]​