The Nar Shaada Classic [Open]

[RC 212]

[member="Cadan Tazi"] [member="Hemmrie the Bum"]

OOC: Tagging those I'm with to keep it clean

The Shop

Jager staggered down the dusty streets filled with stalls and blankets with all sort of wares. As they wandered Hala kept an eye open for trouble. With Cadan in tow they made their way to a ramshackle hutt where the Toydarian and the Dug were screaming at each other in some kind of Hutt dialect. Hala raised a drunken eyebrow as they approached and Jager took the lead.

He said something Huttsee and they all switched to basic.

"Ah hello my dear ahh."

Hala grinned and held out her hand to the Toydarian as he flapped his tiny wings to float over. The Dug stormed off into the shop.

"Why hello! And whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"The names Claxi. I'm a the main services of starships around here. I hear you're looking for an engine huh? A very expensive."

"No no... I'm low on credits. But let me see what you have."

Claxi nodded and stroked his tiny beard as he floated away. Jager belched, and filled the air with liquor breath. Hala grinned and slapped him on the back. The back of Claxi's shop was full or random parts from starfighter cannons, to pile of Hyperdive parts organized into neat little rows. It was a giant circular enclosure of crap.

But crap was treasure to a spacer and she dove right in, walking and looking at different parts. There was coolant lines, sensor wires, a few hyperdive cores. Then her eyes landed on it. An old X-Wing chassis, stripped of everything. That was way better than a Z-95.

"How much for that?" She asked.

Claxi laughed.

"You cannot afford that I think yes. Very very expensive."

"How much."

Claxis frowned.

"Half a million credits I thinks yes. It's a my most prized possession. Salvaged it from Coruscant when the Alliance took over."

"You can't be serious!" Hala quipped, placing both hands on her hips.

"It's a hunk of junk!"

"No credits, no deal!"

Jager began to tap her on the shoulder. She leaned her ear towards the Rodian.

"Don't piss em of Hala. This guy is nut job."

"I thought you knew 'em? What the hell Jager."

"I know 'im. But we ain't friends or nothing."

Hala began to blush with annoyance, red rosy cheeks lighting up.

"There's no way we can pay for this with other services. Besides companion services." She added, cutting off that avenue right away.

"Well there is a one thing."

"What?"

"There's a big podrace coming up. I needa a pilot for my Podracer, but a.... the thing is not finished."

"The Dug is your mechanic?"

Claxi blushed now.

"Yes in a way ah. We ourselves are looking for an engine yeah."

"I have an engine. Scout Fighter, but only one."

"It's not enough. We needa the fees for entry."

Jager stepped in now, growling. The Rodian kept his hand close to his blaster, coming between the two parties.

"You get'n an engine and pilot Claxi!" He poked the Toydarian with his scaly green finger in the chest.

"Don't push it!"

"Hold on," Hala quipped.

"I'll one up the deal. I'll fly your Podracer, and give you my engine. If I win for you, you refit that X-Wing Chassis with new engines, the Kinetic cannons on my Z-95 and a brand new sensor Package. Military grade."

"And if a you lose?"

"You keep my ship."

 

[Cadan Tazi]

Cadan rolled his eyes at the scum that littered the streets. Some passed out from the booze, others lay still barely breathing. All sorts of creatures walked the streets and attempted to sell off their wares to the small group. Cadan waving them away, his hand always close to his DL-18, mumbling curse under his breath to those who approached.

Now they had entered the small shop filled with all sorts of parts for ships. Cadan moved quickly to the ship's weapons noticing a tractor beam here and there and the occastional missle launcher. As he looked around he listen closely to the conversation happening between Hala and the other aliens. From all his drug pushing and now producing Cadan could have handed over the credits then and there, but he thought to see how this would play out. If Hala were to lose the race he would help her get back on her feet but this could be a fun betting chance.

"Tell me Toydarian, when is tha' race aye?" Cadan now strolled over to the group, noticing Jager's hand hovering around the blaster. "I reckon I could stay a little longer."

[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Cadan Tazi"]

Claxi stroked his chin and then nodded.

"It's a deal then."

Hala let out a sigh of relief. When Cadan asked his question Claxi turned and grinned, showing his nasty brown teeth beneath his snout.

"You want to bet eh? Well it's a dangerous course. Going to be through the outer district. Lots of buildings, lots of danger! Two days from now. Follow the girl, she'll a keep you updated."

"Yeah, yeah. Here's the Key to my ship." Hala said, handing it over. There was little left to do. She had her shot and now she'd have to see if it played out or if she'd crash and burn.

"Cadan, bet on me."

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

He wasn't wrong really, but it wasn't like he would have used his force powers or lightsaber against him. He had no reason to in this instance, he preferred to rely on his own physical attributes when it wasn't a level playing field. This would not have been a life or death matter, so why risk making it one? He supposed there was a bit of pride in being able to use your own attributes as well... Even if the Force did count as one of your own seeing as you had to train it, and spend a long time doing so.


But that didn't matter now. The Duros had decided to pay for his drink and had left with the girl. He would at least nod his thanks as he left, before finishing his drink. He did appreciate that, at least. He supposed perhaps it was time he left... There wasn't anything left of interest here. So with that, he would flip the cloak back over his head, and take his leave...

 

[Cadan Tazi]

A smirk crossed Cadan's face, this was an adventurous and fun women, one who Cadan rarely got the pleasure to spend the time with. The ones he generally hung around he would pay or were too spiced up to realise the kind of company they were around.

"I'll make it better for ya, any creds you I bet I bet, you can keep." Cadan could take this chance, and maybe it was time the aging Spice Dealer gave back to the galaxy. Quickly he shook the thought aside, he isn't meant to get sentimental. "Should probably go raid a village and make some widows..." The Duros throught to himself.

"Let's 'ave a look at the pod shall we?"

[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[Sareen Zar]

Sareen had been to Nar Shadda more times than he could could count, spending two years living in its muck filled alleys as a drunkard with no where to go. Since then all that had changed was his age and his strength. He had given up on his warrior spirit, and had become a hermit traveling the galaxy, for he was too poor to acquire the implants that he needed to revitalize his strength, and he was too old for his body to genetically reconstruct it as it had been able only a decade earlier. Why had he come back to this wretched rock of a moon? Sareen couldn't answer, but watching a podrace would certainly be an event worthy of the old Trandoshan's attention. But before it began, it wouldn't hurt to have a drink.

Clad in coats and robes, Sareen sat at the bar, ordering whatever ale strong enough to have a minute effect on his Trandoshan physiology. Gazing at the cantina around him, he was waiting for anything interesting to happen, there always was at least one little scuffle in a cantina to watch.