Diplomacy Acid Rain (Nar Shaddaa - HSC | SJC)

[Lok Xiangu]

It was hard to believe she had possession to so much wealth, no matter if it was right now or time ago when they first crossed paths; rather when he crossed her path. To him it was just a bluff. Sure, she was better off than him, but to have so much credits just from modeling? She probably had some other flings to contribute to her wealth, if he had to guess. It was a stereotype, but said stereotypes came from some pattern to begin with.

“Well, it looks like I bagged both the broad and her cash,” giving a smug look with a wink at Sable. Scooting a bit closer towards the exotic model, pulling out two cigarettes with fine tobacco. Putting one between his lips and giving the other to Sable, before taking a lighter to ignite the ends. He had some DEAF up on his person, but he’d rather get the whole business model down to a tee before being distracted by any narcotics.

“Okay, so we invest or whatever into these places, so we can run shit. Then do some jobs for whatever clients we can find,” hopefully he was on the right page, following her words. “And then we make our profit?”

“So then we’re gonna hire people from your money to get started off?”

Sable Mur ​

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"You think I'm a fool? I'm not trying your spice," Gorba's nostril's flared, good eye scowling as the other stared off to one side, sightlessly.

"What if it was poisoned?" Then he started laughing abruptly, beckoning with one hand. Probably because he knew that most forms of poison only gave him an upset stomach. "Show me how good it is, then we will share it."

Xyoz Maji

 

[Aalto Jien]

Zavaras District
Enaron City,
Club Red 11: The Highway to hell

Needing room to think, he got up from his table for a break. It was about that time. Walking to the wet dreary streets and half-lit dark underpasses. The noise inside made it impossible to think or plan what had to happen next. Outside there was a chill, calm, and cold, just like he liked it. Wet and Dreary.

Pulling his collar up he stood away from the light, thinking about how the night had gone. Low club music in the background, happy to be away from the masses. Many hands reaching for crumbs. Hutts moving back in and all the syndicates jockeying for their place.

Lighting a small Kubaz cigarra smoking away and watching the noise. Calculating his opportunity, and for his crumbs. Aalto didn't care if he was ahead or behind, as long as he was alive and business was smooth. In the middle where nobody knew his name. Nothing better in this business than anonymity.

He stubbed out his smoke on a wall. Watching more walk into the club, how many were on the train to hell? An endless loop that he was part of. There was just one he wanted to see, a certain debitor with influence the Duros needed to see personally. That was him. Not two steps forward and Aalto felt the press of cold metal barrel into his back.

"Not another step."

The trouble with being in the middle was, you dealt with both sides of the coin.

 

[Sal Katarn]

"W-" the Arkanian opened his mouth only to have it clacked shut as Kingsley sucker punched him in the side of the jaw, whipping his head to one side and sending a spray of spit and - worst of all - causing the Arkanian's cigarra to fall to the ground.

Slowly, the Arkanian turned his pupilless eyes toward the bird, down to the cigarra, then back to the bird.

"Big mistake."

He cracked his neck and lifted his fists into a fighting stance.

 

[Hayde Torve]

Allies: SJC
Enemies: Sal Katarn | Argos of the East | Kingsley

Never interrupt an enemy who's in the middle of making a mistake...that's how it goes right?

She flashed an appreciative smile to the intergalactic bird of mystery before he started his fight. The woman took a brief step back, giving the pair enough to fight without her getting in the way. But while the arkanian and the hiitian fought, she turned her gaze on Argos of the East - he hadn't exactly came across as friendly before - not the sort of person she felt she could ignore as much as she wanted to turn her gaze purely on the other fight. Her eyes bored into his - a tactic meant to keep his attention from the fact that she was readying her wrist blaster for a possible attack if it came down to a physical altercation.

"Want to take bets on the winner? Or want to maybe discuss something else while they figure things out themselves?"




Mission Equipment:

Spoiler

Cabarello-series Armored Clothes (street clothes appearance)
LPD-62 Firefist Compact Pistol
LPD-49 Astrapi Miniaturized Static Blaster (left wrist)
Myntor Personal Shield
LPD-35 Shadowcaster Gaseous Grenade (x1)
LPD-54 Neutroburst Radiation Grenade (x2)

 

[Aalto Jien]

Zavaras District
Enaron City,
Outside Club Red 11: The Highway to hell

Silver coin was placed in his hand, heads facing up, meant he was living another day. Barely a muscle moved, cool as a Hoth cantina past closing time. He took the large coin, bit it to make sure it was the genuine Triad currency, scanned in his reader to confirm, and then pocketed it when he was sure.

"What are you buying?" Aalto asked, couldn't ignore the triad coin. Still not looking behind, the less he knew the better.

"Your debitor," came the stranger's reply.

The Duros calculated his options, a Triad coin could buy things in the right places, the debtor happened to be a political aide, and owning his debt also bought him many things. Maybe the gun in his back made the decision easier.

"I'll forget I saw him for a week," compromise.

"Just need one day," the gun relaxed from his back.

"Agreed," Aalto played it cool, and still hadn't turned around. If the debtor survived the day chances are he wasn't going to be on Nar Shadda come morning. His night hadn't been a total waste, he still had the marker coin. Deciding to extend his smoke break, Aalto turned away to let the stranger walk unseen. See and hear no evil. Only when the stranger was far enough away, he made the call.

"Broker 571 to Handler. There's someone we need to be tracked...." Track the debitor, he got them both, but let someone else take all the risk, that sounded like a broker's plan.

 

[Argos of the East]

"No, and No.", he declared.​

​

"I'm not the bird brained or money blind fools these two are - so how about you move on."​

​

With that, he'd turn on his heel and motion for the muscle in the car to start moving boxes. They'd get out - large men of near human species dressed in suits. They didn't speak, only grunted, and moved with the burly grace of bears - lifting heavy boxes from the speeder and bringing them to the Sal Katarn 's ship.​

​

Argos lit up a cigarette and stood on the ramp to enter, watching to see how the others would duke it out.​

​

Hayde Torve // Kingsley​

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Hayde Torve 's questioning was on the right path.

If only she had had more time.

At that moment, screens all over Nar Shaddaa lit up with the news. The referendum had passed. Nar Shaddaa voted to leave the Concord.

Those watching the screens laughed. Some cried. Some only smirked and shuffled their cards. Because everyone knew what this meant. Jedi might still be here in some capacity, trying to keep the peace. But the true rulers had returned. Once more, crime reigned as king on the Smuggler's Moon.

Fin