Public The Smuggler and the Smuggler's Moon

[Gatz Derrevar]

Gatz was quite fond of Nar Shaddaa.

Yes it was the armpit of the galaxy, where the Hutts had centralized their cartels. Yes it was a cesspool of every violent murderer, drug smuggler, or general misanthrope the galaxy had to offer. And yes, the smell of rot permeated the whole damn moon. But it was also where the greatest opportunities could be found, especially for a man of his... predisposition. There was never a shortage of work for pilots with their own ships, not here on the Smuggler's Moon. If you needed credits, and you didn't care about the particulars of how you came across them, then Nar Shaddaa was the place to be.

So long as you didn't have a bounty on your head. There were hunters aplenty around these parts. But even then, it was easy to hide amongst the bustling traffic of Nal Hutta's moon. If you wanted to disappear, then this was the place to be too.

On this particular night, sitting in a corner booth of a cantina after an easy delivery of stim, Gatz Derrevar didn't quite care if he was found or not. Not when he had a drink in his hand, creds to his name, and a pretty Togruta waitress to flirt with. So, tonight, he wasn't much concerned with either the pros or the cons of being on the Hutt's moon. He was content to see what the night would throw at him.

 

[Lucretia Lister]

Wearing: Liar's Flesh

Armed with: Turncoats

Double Agent (Blue Saberstaff)


The elderly but athletic looking Witch in a skintight metallic gray catsuit walked into the dive immediately drawing stares as to how out of place she looked, her catsuit having a chromium like finish that reflected everything around it.

Then their eyes fell on the two large, fifty caliber pistols strapped to her thigh and the Electrum plated, pearl gripped double bladed lightsaber hanging from a belt.

It had been another long night of selling off her remaining cache of firearms. She was thirsty, and perhaps seeking a bit of danger, so she thought nothing of going into the shadiest dive she could find.

Lucretia took a seat not far from where Gatz Derrevar sat, and ordered the most expensive drink there, not paying attention to the uneasy stares. Some, having seen that kind of catsuit before, on other creatures of the shadows, left immediately and without fanfare. Others did their best to avoid notice.

Lucretia sipped her expensive drink.

 

[Jolene Bastra]

Jolene stepped inside the cantina with an audible groan.

Her hip was actin' up again. Dressed in normal spacer clothing, she'd blend right into the crowd -- save perhaps, for her short crop of white hair. There weren't many smugglers out there that lived to be her age; she was lucky. But she didn't want to be out there runnin' goods herself, nope. Retirement was the name of the game now.

Well, sort of.

Dorado station, out in the Rim was shaping up nicely. She had a black book filled with clients... but she needed smugglers. True, she had Holden Tark out there doing the good work, but he was only one man. And she was waiting for the day he'd end up turning on her or leave her hanging... or get himself killed. So far, he'd been someone she could count on. For now.

Her eyes shifted to Lucretia Lister . The no cover charge for seniors definitely seemed to draw in a different crowd. Nevertheless, she offered the catsuit-clad woman a small nod. Jo would never be caught in something that flashy or skintight. She was in fairly good shape for a woman her age, but things just weren't as... pert as they used to be.

"Get me a Corellian Whiskey," she said when she reached the bar.

 

[Shin Jhicaro]

There was an art to standing in a room and going unnoticed. You had to dress a certain way; muted tones, neutral fashions, no statements. You had to act a certain way; eyes down, unassuming, unimportant. When you're no one, there's nothing to see; when you're below notice, you're invisible.

Sliding through the room to the bar, avoiding sentients who paid him no mind as he did so, Vega tapped the bar, signaling to the bartender. The bartender, a hulking four-armed Besalisk grunted at him and then proceeded to ignore him. There was a down-side to being unobtrusive. When you wanted to get noticed, it was a little harder. Tapping the bar more insistently, the distinct clack of a credit on the counter finally enticed the Besalisk enough to waddle over.

"What." The creature said in a gravelly voice, its thick fingers picking the small chip up with surprising deftness.

"Need a pilot. Reliable." Replied Vega in clipped tones, holding up another credit chit.

"Derrevar. Human. Male. Blonde. In the corner." Replied the Besalisk in equally clipped tones. Apparently the creature's patience was already wearing thin. But that was fine; their business was already concluded. Flipping the chit to the alien, Vega turned and melted back into the crowd.

A short search later, and Vega reappeared out of the crowd. This side of the cantina was popular with humans and humanoids apparently. A pair of human females, on in age, were chatting nearby. A lone human male ( Gatz Derrevar ) was busy flirting with a Togruta waitress. Two guesses who the spacer was.

"Derrevar. I hear you're for hire?" Vega was unobtrusive enough. He was a respectful distance away, enough to be non-threatening, but close enough to be easily heard. That said, it would probably be noticed that there was a blaster at his hip, and some kind of collapsed staff at his back.

 

[Nalah Tezan]

As a natural-born daughter of the Smuggler's Moon, Nalah loved the heady cocktail of credits, danger, and vice that permeated the entire planet. Unfortunately, stepping into a dive bar usually buried that smell under stale vomit and cheap rotgut, and this place was no exception. Smuggler's bars always leaned toward the seedier side of the quality scale, but there was something special about a Nar Shadda hole-in-the-wall that made it especially noxious.

But Nalah was between contracts and marks at the moment so her discreet tastes had to be loosened for an evening so she could find her next meal ticket, otherwise she'd be pawning things from the Ardent Angel. And she wasn't prepared just yet to gut her favorite stolen starship to keep the galley stocked.

So she stepped through the cantina doors, lacking the usual finery and trim, with a long coat thrown over her Venture suit as an insurance policy against unwanted blaster fire. She sauntered to the bar, her stride a careful mix of 'not to be kriffed with' swagger and 'I'm just another spacer, no need to look closely' stroll. A posture, she realized, that two women at the bar also shared, a very kitted out older woman in a shockingly flattering catsuit, and another elder dressed in a thick long-coat.

As this was, apparently, seniors night at the local dive bar, Nalah took a spot roughly equidistant between them, pulled out a cigarra on a long holder, and piped up enough for both of them to hear.

"Either of you ladies have a light?" She, of course, had a cigarra lighter in her jacket pocket, but getting someone else to do it for you was a better icebreaker.

Lucretia Lister Jolene Bastra

 

[Lucretia Lister]

"But of course..." Lucretia purred politely, retrieving an expensive looking aurodium lighter to the young woman and lighting it up, holding it out. The light glittered off her catsuit, revealing an unusually athletic and muscular contour.

"I must say, I recommend the Corellian Red Sunset. It's delightful, they put cinnamon in it..." The Witch said to Nalah Tezan .

 

[Joseph Torson]

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T H E_S M U G G L E R_A N D_T H E_S M U G G L E R S_M O O N
Project Rejuvenation

THE FINAL DAWN
NAR SHADDAA, HUTT SPACE
Current Appearance

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It was Joseph Torson's first time in Hutt Space, and to say that he was quite nervous was an understatement. Despite the fact that his orginization held alot of connections with Criminal Organizations across Hutt Space, he was on a planet where Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries roamed freely, far from the jurisdictions of major galactic governments that would shun their practices. Even for a man like him, coming here alone and without any backup was a tremendous risk, and as such the sooner he got want he came here for, the better. After a few hours of travel, the young man would arrive infront of a particular cantina, one of many scattered across the crime-ridden polluted ecumenopolis.

Upon entering, Torson proceeded to take out a small datapad from his pocket which contained information on his target, a certain Epicanthix Male by the name of Vega Antares, who had recently appeared on the radar of his organization with his superiors having taken an particular interest in the man, seeking to acquire his services considering his known track-record. Upon taking a look at the photo of the man attached to his datapad, Torson took a while to scan the surroundings of the cantina before eventually finding his target. He watched as he spoke to a nearby Besalisk, before proceeding to head towards a corner booth to speak to another man.

Almost instinctively, Torson proceeded to walk towards that very Besalisk gently tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. "Excuse me, sir" Torson began. "What do you want?" the alien said in that same gravelly voice. "What did he say? That man you just spoke with." Torson said while taking out a a pair of credits out of his pocket as to encourage the alien to start talking. After getting the credits, the Besalisk then proceeded to answer the question given to him by the undercover agent. "Was looking for a Reliable Pilot." the alien responded. Torson then took another credit and then questioned the alien once more. "Who's the Pilot in question?" Torson asked. "Name is Derrevar. Blone Human Male, back in the Corner" the man said in response. Without wasting another second Torson flipped the coin and headed off in pursuit of this Derrevar person. If he was Pilot Antares was after then it was certain that he was already talking with the man at this very point and as such, all Torson needed to do was catch up with Antares wherever he was now.

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Tags | Shin Jhicaro | Gatz Derrevar ​

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[Gatz Derrevar]

After a few passes at the Togruta waitress, it became clear to the young smuggler that she wasn't so much interested in him as she was interested in getting a nice tip. So Gatz let her be on her way, without any fuss. If she didn't want to go home with him, then so be it. He liked to flirt, almost shamelessly, but he wasn't a persistant kind of guy. He might have been a scoundrel, but that didn't mean that he had to be scummy.

Besides, it was a nice night, with good drinks. He wasn't about to let getting turned down ruin that. Sometimes that was just how things went.

He was so immersed in his drink of choice that he almost missed the older women as they walked in. He caught sight of the one in the skin tight clothing first, not because of the clothing itself, but because of the dual blasters and lightsaber hanging from her belt. Everything about her, even the way she walked, screamed "danger" to Gatz. He chose not to approach her, as he wasn't looking for trouble tonight, but he did keep her in the corner of his eye. It was only when two other women approached her, another older lady, and Zygerrian woman, that Gatz let himself be at ease.

It was that moment that he was approached by someone, a human looking man with an oddly angular face, asking after his identity and if he was looking for a job. The man was armed, like any sensible person on Nar Shaddaa, but kept his distance. He didn't seem to be threatening, and Gatz always needed more credits, so he figured he'd be straight up with the man.

"I'm Derrevar, yeah, and I might be interested in a job," he gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the booth, "but that depends on what you need from me."

The prospect of a new job piqued his interest, and distracted the young smuggler. So much so that he didn't notice the third man enter the cantina, and begin questioning the bartender.

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Shin Jhicaro Joseph Torson

 

[Jolene Bastra]

Lucretia Lister | Nalah Tezan​

When her drink was set down on the bar, it was in Jolene's hot hand right away.

She took a big sip and sighed. "Ah, yeah. That's the stuff."

Her eyes shifted when a young woman with a cigarra approached and asked for a light. Jo dipped a hand into her coat pocket and was about to produce an old book of matches when the woman in the catsuit beat her to it. Jo's eyes shifted to the rather ornate-looking lighter. The lady had class, that was for damn sure.

"Might as well put that to good use," Jo said, producing a hand-rolled cigarra of her own and lighting it on the already flickering flame. "Thanks."

Jolene took a few puffs and blew out a few rings of smoke.

"Name's Jolene, by the way. But just call me Jo," she said to her new companions.

 

[Lucretia Lister]

"Lister... Lucretia Lister..." was the response, in a light Coruscant accent.

(Clip of Bond Theme Plays)

Lucretia watched as Jolene Bastra lit her cigarra.

"A pleasure to make the acquaintance of you both..." Lucretia said politely. "How fortunate this bar knows how to mix a drink. There are bars that are supposedly high end that wouldn't know what a proper martini was if you showed them. That's why I always try to find places like this. Busy night, for the both of you?"

Nalah Tezan

 

[Shin Jhicaro]

"I'm Derrevar, yeah, and I might be interested in a job," he gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the booth, "but that depends on what you need from me."

Vega slid into the booth, surreptitiously pressing a credit chip into the waitress' hand as he did so. "Stim tea, unopened."

The woman smiled sweetly at him, likely seeing someone she could work over for a good tip. Vega gave a bland stare in return. The smile disappeared like snow on Tatooine, and she left to retrieve the drink in a distinct huff. Turning his attention to the spacer, Vega shrugged. "Easy job. I just need you and your ship to transport me to block four thirty one. You'll fly up into a no fly zone - deposit one nameless passenger, myself, onto a low hanging antenna, and then proceed to fly away with some grumpy security on your tail. I need a good pilot, because the maneuver has to be done within thirty seconds."

There were several key details to that job pitch. The first was that any spacer who had spent any time on Nar Shaddaa would know that block 431 was a Hutt-owned no fly zone, mainly because it was home to a number of Hutt Sky Palaces, used mainly as temporary homes when a visiting Hutt had business on the planet. It was a good bet that flying into their airspace would be met with a significant air response. The second was that thirty seconds was a very well known number for a standard security sensor sweep; it took thirty seconds for a sensor to detect something on wide passive scan, and then to home in and make a detailed targeted scan. In other words, Vega wanted Derrevar to penetrate Hutt security, deposit him, and then be on his way before the security system could determine what Derrevar was doing underneath one of their sky palaces. "Thirty thousand. Half now, half after."

Gatz Derrevar Joseph Torson

 

[Nalah Tezan]

As expected, a simple favor turned into the perfect chance to get two strangers talking about themselves, although the silver haired woman in the catsuit was the first to actually offer a lighter. Nalah was quick to make a few key observations about the woman as she leaned in to light her cigarra: first, that catsuit was, indeed, incredibly flattering to her build. Second, that her lighter looked more expensive than the liqour cabinet on the Angel. And third, that she was wearing what appeared to be a real lightsaber at her hip. Nalah had seen, and even once fabricated, fake lightsabers before, but this weapon didn't like a chromium showpiece, there was battle damage under the metal finish.

And, to be honest, that all frightened her more than a little, because there was a very short list of reasons why a shockingly athletic, extremely wealthy, and lightsaber-armed woman would be drinking in a Nar Shadda cantina, and none of them boded well. But, Nalah kept her concerns buried under a charming smile, and simply purred back with her Zygerrian accent.

"Thank you kindly." At that moment, the second elder leaned in to get her cigarra lit, and Nalah got a much safer, if slightly less pleasant read off of her. She was wearing spacer's leathers, dabbed with an assortments of small stains and patches, the signs of a hard, manual worker. But hard, manual laborers didn't get to be this old on Nar Shadda, so she was likely in the company of a veteran smuggler or ship-jacker. A good friend to make.

"Jo, Ms. Lister, my name is Nalah Tezan, a pleasure to meet both of you." She replied cordially before turning to Lucretia. "And to answer your question, this is actually one of my less busy evenings, I'm somewhat between jobs as it were."

Jolene Bastra Lucretia Lister

 

[Lucretia Lister]

"Likewise, Nalah. Well, it just so happens...so am I..." Lucretia purred back. "I deal in weapons. Bulk orders, specialized, whatever. Tonight was profitable. So I came here to unwind. Those insufferable clubs on the upper levels don't appeal."

Lucretia took another sip, observing more about the two. The other elderly woman looked like the product of hard living and the other also looked like it wasn't her first time in a place like this. Intriguing...

The catsuit reflected both of their images very clearly, and indeed everything else in the vicinity.

"As it happens, I am on the lookout for those with experience in transporting more specialized items through hostile space...and the willingness and ability to fight off the authority for it. The pay is tremendous as compensation...that is, if you two happen to be interested..."

Another sip of her crimson sunset.

"The pay can take whatever form you wish. Aurodium, Jewels, hard credits...or perhaps something more esoteric would suit both your fancies..."

Jolene Bastra

Nalah Tezan

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Of all the delivery jobs the man could have offered, the young smuggler hadn't guessed that this would be one of them. What the man was doing was essentially suicide, as far as Gatz could tell. Even if they could get to block 431, and drop this rogue off undetected, how in the world would he get away? Gatz himself would likely be too busy dodging Hutt starfighters to do a rendezvous, and Vega would be left to escape on his lonesome. It seemed foolhardy. Impossible even. There were so many things that could go wrong with this plan.

But sixty thousand credits was hard to pass up.

"Let's say I agree: how are you going to get that second half of the bag to me? Even if I can pull off the drop, I'd basically be leaving you for dead. I'd have a swarm of fighters up my ass, and even if I shook them, the area would be way too hot for me to try and come back and pick you up."

Gatz wasn't neccessarily opposed to the plan. He could make the flight, and perform the maneuver. Thirty seconds was a tight window, especially for a light freighter and not a starfighter, but The Red Night could pull it off so long as he was at the helm. But if he was going to put his life, and more importantly his ship, on the line he needed reassurance that he'd see his full payment. Gatz wasn't adverse to taking risks, but he didn't like taking them without a reward at the end. But even as he tried to think logically about it, he knew he was going to accept. Not because of the money. Not because of the adrenaline that would come with such a dangerous job.

He was going to accept it because he needed to know if he could pull it off.

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Shin Jhicaro

 

[Jolene Bastra]

Lucretia Lister | Nalah Tezan

Jo gave Lucretia and Nalah a nod in response to their introductions. So, her fellow elder was here to celebrate a big deal done. And the younger Nalah was here… between jobs.

"Guess you could say it's a quiet night for me, too," Jo said, but there was an enigmatic glint in her eyes.

However, she wasn't going to let slip much more than that… for now. Jo did like to play the cards close to her chest. However, she hoped that Serren Leonis was out there on the streets of Nar Shaddaa earning her pay.

Jolene arched a brow when Lucretia mentioned that she dealt in weapons. An arms trader, huh. Well, that was a useful contact to have – especially in her line of business. And it turned out that she needed smugglers. Well, would you look at that.

"I got out of the smugglin' game," Jo said, then took a puff of her cigarra. "But I got people. You come through the Outer Rim -- and Dorado Station -- and I got your back." Her eyes shifted to Nalah. "I'll let the youngin take the work… if she wants it."

 

[Nalah Tezan]

Nalah herself rather preferred the upper level casinos to these dingy lower bars, they had better drinks on tap, and the house dealers didn't pull blasters on you if you won too many hands of sabacc for their liking. As for why Lucretia was down here, arms smuggling was indeed lucrative, but liable to lose one a finger or ten if performed incorrectly, so the fact she still had all of hers meant she knew her trade. Nalah had moved arms before, small-batch of course, usually for private security firms or wealthy clients with a taste for eccentric equipment, but never on a large scale. Of course, that just meant she was now even more concerned and intrigued about why this mystery saber-enthusiast was slumming for cargo captains.

The second woman, Jolene, was much easier to understand and get into business with, being a retired smuggler that meant she likely had resources, connections, and experience beyond just her personal station in the Outer Rim. Nalah did most of her work Coreward, but that just meant good friends in the Outer Rim helped to expand her markets, and she could appreciate that.

"I must admit, you both have me very intrigued. I have quite a few well-to-do clients in the Core and Mid Rim who would be very interested in what both of you have to offer." She began, taking a drag of her own cigarra in the process. "Let's discuss some details first, particularly from you, Ms. Lister."

Jolene Bastra Lucretia Lister

 

[Lucretia Lister]

"Ah, I'm all about the details..." Lucretia replied smoothly. "And I'll be sure to try out Dorado Station in the future, Miss Bastra." She then turned to Nalah Tezan

"I have need of someone willing to transport some specialized Disruptors. Up to and including Class D Type Disruptors..." Lucretia explained. "Multiple large crates, headed to the scar worlds from a pick up spot on the rim. Risk of attack from pirates is high due to the value of the cargo. I would provide you protection and muscle should you desire. But the delivery would have to be made in the next few days..."

Jolene Bastra

 

[Shin Jhicaro]

"Let's say I agree: how are you going to get that second half of the bag to me? Even if I can pull off the drop, I'd basically be leaving you for dead. I'd have a swarm of fighters up my ass, and even if I shook them, the area would be way too hot for me to try and come back and pick you up."

"I have drop boxes set up for these types of operations. You give me your comm code, after the job is done you'll get a wave containing a planetary bank location and an access code. The second half of the payment will be there."

The Togruta waitress came back, nonchalantly depositing Vega's bottled stim tea on the table, before walking away with an exaggerated sway of the hips. She wasn't used to being turned down apparently. But Vega was all business and paid her no mind. Checking to make sure the seal on the bottle was intact, he popped off the lid and took a small swig before setting the fizzing beverage to the side.

"Take it or leave it. You can say that means there's no guarantee of getting paid, but there would be no guarantee of that even if it was in person. Instead, you can trust one thing and one thing only; my professionalism, and a sincere desire for a lack of complications."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

The man before him seemed about as honest as anyone in their way of life could be. Gatz wasn't sure how much he trusted a scoundrel's word, even his own, but most of his dealings were far shadier than this. If he could haul spice for Hutt scum, then he could be an intergalactic taxi for a man who hadn't even threatened to kill him once during this meeting. Frankly, this was probably the best job offer he'd ever gotten on Nar Shaddaa. Sure, he was risking his life and his ship, but when weren't those things on the line?

"Alright," Gatz agreed easily, "when do we make the drop?"

Even if this didn't turn out the way he wanted it to, he was still making at least thirty thousand credits. Not bad for thirty seconds of work. Dealing with Hutt security would be a little nervewracking, considering that he had to dodge starfighters in a freighter, but Gatz was at his best when the pressure was on. Besides, it had been too long since he'd had a little excitement. Easy jobs were great, but boring. They usually didn't pay very well either.

But most of all, he wanted a real challenge, and this was exactly that.

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Shin Jhicaro

 

[Shin Jhicaro]

"Alright," Gatz agreed easily, "when do we make the drop?"

Vega nodded once, partly to himself, partly in affirmation. "Tonight. We have a narrow window to work with - myself especially, if I want to make it out alive." Vega slid out of the booth, taking the stim tea and the lid with him, almost as if he wished to leave no trace of his presence. "Be ready. I'll find you." And then he was gone, melting back into the crowd. Ignored, forgotten, invisible. Making his way to the back exit, Vega stepped out onto the street proper, and a small black sphere (about the size of a grapefruit) hovered from around the corner.

<<Wong, wong, drzzt?>> The droid spoke binary, but instead of the chirps and beeps of an astromech, it had the distinctive whine and drone of a probe droid's speech pattern. A DSH-3, the sphere stared at Vega questioningly. "He seems trustworthy." Vega responded as he slipped into a nearby alley. "Follow him. I don't want him tipping off the Hutts." And then he was gone, disappearing into the back alleys of Nar Shaddaa, just another vagrant among millions. Silently, the droid floated upward into the sky - hiding amidst the incalculable pipes, wires, and neon lights of the city. Time would tell if they could pull this harebrained venture off.

Gatz Derrevar