"Now hold up, I didn't agree to that!" Never words you wanted to say (or hear) during a pre-arranged contract meeting. Quinn dropped her datapad into her small leather cross-body rucksack lest she be tempted to smash it over the woman's head and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning on one hip as she fixed Petra with a peeved expression. "The deal was non-sentient cargo only, not 'cargo and three of my men'."
The thin human looked unconcerned, almost bored, motionless as a statue in her spotless grey servants robes. Petra looked down her nose at the obscenely colored alien in front of her, voice laced with mild disgust. Why the Master had chosen this tart creature to transport his offerings for The Contrive, she couldn't understand. "We see no difference there. They are all cargo to the Great Ravaeli, and as such will be included in the load."
Quinn bristled a little at that, her lekku stiffening the slightest, but she hid it with a salty smile. So that's the game, huh? She couldn't afford to lose this job, the pay was too good, but she'd be damned if she let a breach like this go without some kind of consolation prize. "Oh, sure, they will. Just tack on an extra, say… seventeen thousand upfront."
Petra was prepared.
Never mind. The Master said she'd try to squeeze what she could out of the arrangement, but that was a ludicrous demand! In truth, the credits were not a problem, they'd easily make back what they gave to the alien Quinn. But his instructions had been clear: the cargo MUST be aboard 'The Areta'. She just had to be careful she didn't spook the female captain. Luckily, she'd started at a high enough price so they could haggle properly without too much suspicion. "Seven thousand."
"Fifteen." Quinn's gameface fell into place.
"..Thirteen for each, and a box of the Esteemed Ravaeli's finest Durian dreamberries."
She pretended to think it over. "Done." It was the berries that really sold it. "I'll update the log. Pleasure doing business with you." Durian dreamberries were a rare and expensive delicacy, difficult to grow correctly and dangerous to screw up, but always in demand. Giving a whole box away was…not a common practice and the warning bell in the back of Quinn's head rang a time or two, but thirty nine thousand credits on top of the original price? Not something she could ignore.
Speaking of ignore, Quinn stole a look at the small but ornate transport car parked just outside the Airhub, the one Petra had exited. There was a flash of white hair and bronze skin in the veiled compartment window. 'The Master', she figured. And that made Petra the go-between. Having a courier finalize business in the contractor's stead wasn't unusual, especially in her line of work. Anonymity was crucial for some, helping higher profile clients maintain their image and giving those that didn't want questions asked a sense of security. But this one rubbed her the wrong way. She'd seen how Petra looked at her, heard the superiority in the woman's voice. It was far too familiar a way for Quinn, and the longer she looked at Petra, the more she felt like poking the proverbial reek. "Hot tip for the future, by the way. If you're gonna alter the deal after everything is signed, sealed, and delivered?" The Twi'lek handed her datapad to the human, all saccharine smiles. "Don't. Or open with a compensation offer. Otherwise, it's bad form."
Petra, moving for the first time since leaving her carriage, motioned silently to the men gathered by the mountainous collection of cargo near the transport and took the datapad with a look that could freeze water on Tatooine. "Yes, I suppose your kind would know all about bad form," she said crisply, eying Quinn up and down with a sour, pinched expression before signing off on the new contract.
The tips of her lekku flushed a light silver, but Quinn held her tongue, trying to focus on the piles of cash she was basically stealing from these racist bastards. As satisfyingly good as the comebacks lining up on her tongue were, she couldn't risk her professional reputation, especially with private contractors. It wasn't just her on the chopping block, it was her whole crew, and she couldn't do that to them.
"It's done," Petra sniffed, handing the datapad back. "The credits for the additional 'cargo' have been transferred to your account and our men will begin loading immediately. You'll be paid in full upon arrival on Nar Shaddaa, once the cargo has been inspected for damages, of course. The Generous Ravaeli's dockhands will remain with the cargo at all times, do not interfere with their operations, I assure you they'll not cause trouble."
Quinn's eyes just about disappeared behind her exaggerated grin. She gave the frigid woman a slightly condescending pat on the shoulder and swept her other hand towards the transport in a grand gesture of 'Please Get The Kriff Out Before I Deck You'. "Would you please give the Great Ravioli—"
"Ravaeli." Petra shrunk away from her, adjusting her robes in a flurry of movement as she brushed at the area that had come into contact with Quinn's fingers.
"—my heartfelt thanks for choosing 'The Areta', and assure him his cargo is in good hands. I'll be sure to contact you when we reach Nar Shaddaa, we will be on our way as soon as the cargo is loaded, thank you very much, see you next time, goodbye now!" she called as she all but steered Petra the first few feet towards her transport, waving as she hurried into her seat and the cab pulled away. "Sanctimonious biitch," Quinn breathed through clenched teeth as the grin fell from her expression. Definitely not the encounter she'd been hoping for, but it sure paid for its insults.
The Twi'lek took a stabilizing breath, her lekku relaxing into their usual positions draped over her shoulders. "Alright, we're ready to load!" she called as she turned back 'round and headed back up the landing ramp, poking her head into the hold to find Fidelis . Quinn looked less than happy. "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!" she added over her shoulder as she strode back down the ramp, datapad out. The loaders were already rolling carts up the gangway, heavy with cargo. Most were large crates, extra padding for stability with a dark grey metal casing underneath, but there were a few smaller boxes scattered among the load.
Shifting through her apps, Quinn stood to the side of the ramp and tried to look available despite having her nose in her screen. There were a handful of people (of hugely varying shapes and sizes) moving around nearby, and her adds for wanted crew members and passengers had seen plenty of activity the past day. Hopefully, she'd 'hook' something.
A shadow fell across her. It took a fair bit of control not to step back a few paces as the massive armor-clad being ( Ghorua the Shark ) moved down the main walkway towards her. She tried not to stare. The Twi'lek tucked her datapad under her arm and shaded her eyes as she craned her neck to look up at the 'faceplate', a small smile on her face. "Need a ride? Won't find one for a better price this side of town."
| Irma Olanthe| Meira| Kip Ridel|Dewbacca| Aryn Teth| Tin'tinag| Saul Ferasi|Veera|
Edited by Lyla Quinn, 04 December 2017 - 03:32 PM.