An Expanding Market

[Ethan Miller]

Clank, Clank, Clank each time the smithing hammer hit the heated steel, slowly shaping the blade. Ethan was focused, his teacher watching him closely, it made Ethan a bit nervous. He was being judged each time he struck the unshaped metal. It was getting closer and closer to what it was supposed to look like. The young adult had been on Abregado-Rae for a few weeks learning for hours on end about how to be a proper blacksmith and honestly he was getting there.

Those hours of learning had left him no time for any social media, he could practically feel his followers dropping. Yet he had to stay focused on the task in front of him. His teacher leaned against a post a low gruff voice would sound as he continued to form the steel.

"Keep your form boy or else the blade will be lopsided. Even handed strikes."

Ethan looked up black smears on his face and nodded. He continued on his work making sure he did as he was told. Soon, the formed blade would have to be cooled, he used the tongs to move the heated blade into a vat of water, as soon as the two met, a cloud of steam shot up.

"Go... You're done for the day, get rest." The man said. Ethan nodded.

...

Ethan was glad to get out of this grimy clothes and into his more fashionable designer clothes. He needed something to do something more or less productive. The first thing that popped into his mind was 'casino' but he decided against it, he needed something more thrilling... Perhaps even illegal. Abregado-Rae was known for it's smuggler traffic, you just had to find the right person.

Perhaps the drug peddling business would be a good place to go, spice, deathsticks, and the likes were a Expanding Market

He stood atop a bridge that crossed a canal and looked down at the water.

"I'm pretty sure I know where to find a supplier...." He pulled out a datapad and began to scroll through it.

[member="Myles Vylumnar"]

Ethan's Clothes

Spoiler

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

ABREGADO-RAE​

Spaceport, West Hangar 11​

Myles Vylumnar, 'The Stargazer'​

Myles flew his ship into the planet's atmosphere, landing in Abregado-rae's spaceport. He'd been to the planet before on occasion, and visited the LoBue Cantina. The planet was known for it's economy, one which Myles thought he'd like to tap into. He was contacted by someone here, having set up a meeting in the West Hangar. Being the kind of man he is with the kind of job he has, it would be no surprise the amount of connections Myles had. He could probably find anyone in the underground with ease, and he was no short of fame himself. Throughout his years, he'd built up a reputation for being a 'go-to guy', and his track record was decent as well for anyone who took the time to do some research. Of course, that was pretty much a given in his line of work.

He knew little about the person who contacted him, such is the reason a meeting was set up. Myles was always confident in himself, and never really worried about the kinds of people he dealt with. If anything, this could have been anyone from some legendary crime-lord like Miss Blonde, to some kid looking to try new things.

This person wanted some sort of drug, he knew that much. Luckily he could get his hands on all kinds of spice, deathsticks, and other questionable substances. It was almost ironic, being a drug dealer who rarely uses drugs. But really, it was easy money, and Myles liked easy money. He sat in the cockpit of his ship, spinning around in the swivel-chair as he awaited his contact to walk through the hangar doors.

[member="Ethan Miller"]

 

[Ethan Miller]

West Hanger 11, that was the agreed upon meeting area. He didn't know much about the person he was looking for, it was a friend of a friend... Something like that. He would close his datapad and slip it back into his pants pocket. The Blacksmith's apprentice began to make his way towards the hangar. Most of the locals in the area knew Ethan as a aspiring blacksmith, and the people back on Coruscant knew him as the snobby rich kid. To Ethan, the way people saw him mattered, that's why he wore the nicest clothes and tried to make a name for himself.

Ethan looked at his reflection as he passed a storefront. His clothes were perfect as far as he knew, but it did make him feel like some preschool kid...It wasn't a pleasing feeling. He shook his head as he noticed the spaceport. Ethan mad his way to hangar 11, where his contact had set the meeting. The trendsetter made his way through the large hangar doors and checked his watch. The black metal shimmered against the light. He smiled, as far as he knew he was on time.

Ethan let his hands fall into his pockets as he stood in the center of the hangar door.

"Now let's see..." He would say as he clicked his tongue. He kept checking his watch as he began to make his way to the center of the hangar.

[member="Myles Vylumnar"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

"There's our guy..." he muttered to himself as [member="Ethan Miller"] made his way into the hangar. Myles watched from the cockpit, standing up from his seat and making his way to the cargo bay. He quickly took a peek in his inventory, eyeballing the jars of spice and crates of deathsticks. He had rankweed, glitterstim, crude, and various other hallucinogens and whatnot. Sighing, Myles opened the docking ramp to his ship, taking a step outside with a forced grin and open arms.

"Hey... You...? Glad you could make it!" he called out, not even knowing his business partner's name. Myles himself wore his signature leather jacket with a white undershirt. His dark pants crinkled, fitting nicely and not too slim around the legs. Compared to Ethan, Myles was like a rebellious older brother. Of course, they were far from brothers at this point.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours, guy." he said in a friendly tone, putting an arm around Ethan's shoulder as he would escort him inside the ship. At first glance, Myles could tell Ethan was probably new to this sort of thing. He just gave off that sort of vibe- and his clothing made him seem geeky enough for it. Inside the ship, the aroma of various scents would fill the air. A display of spice jars, racks of deathsticks, and bottles of crude and other substances were stacked on top of crates.

 

[Ethan Miller]

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] called out as he walked down the ramp of his ship, the teen's apparel was that of an everyday hustler Ethan was sure to keep track of that. The other boy seemed a few months older. Ethan was sceptical about the whole deal, he barely knew the man for one.


Myles stated that Ethan probably knew his name, but he didn't know Ethan's. The trend setter felt the grease monkey wrap an arm around his shoulder. Ethan was then led onto Myles' ship where the various smells of different spices filled the air. Ethan smiled as he looked at his watch again.

"My name's Ethan, Ethan Miller...You must be Myles." He would say as he ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the elder teen's arm over his shoulders began to make the well dressed teen uncomfortable. Ethan pulled himself from under the leather clad male.

"I've heard you can get me into the..." He cleared his throat. "The business." He finished as he fixed his pink bowtie. He would bring his blue eyed gaze to Myles for a response.

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

"Ethan... We're gonna get along well, Ethan, I can feel it." he'd say. His tone was sort of upbeat and casual. All the while he kept up his facade of happiness, acting as friendly as could be. Myles himself was, of course, friendly enough of a guy, but the harshness of this business made it difficult to keep any long-term associates or make decent impressions. Thus, you had to fake it to make it. It wasn't uncommon for these types to try and sell their 'winning personalities', but to Myles it just felt natural. Maybe he was so good at lying that he was even lying to himself, or maybe that was just how he was.

"So... Ethan. What is it you're looking for? Deathsticks? Ehh, maybe not your thing. You look like more of a rankweed or spice type-a-guy. Glitterstim is all the rage these days. You know, I got more than jus..." his voice trailed off.

"I've heard you can get me into the... The business."

Myles paused, stepping back as he sort of gave Ethan a funny look.

"The business! Hah!" he finally said, laughing a little. "Good one, Mr. Miller... Heh, business..."

Myles turned away, once again looking over all of his product. His upbeat tempo and friendly attitude slowly faded and died off. He walked over to the center of the room and dragged a crate over to an open space. He'd then pick up a large jar of spice, no larger than his torso, and set it down by the crate. He did the same a second time before squatting down and taking a seat on one of the jars.

"Come on, sit." he'd say. "What sort of... Business, are we talking about here?"

[member="Ethan Miller"]

 

[Ethan Miller]

Ethan grinned at the fact that Myles said they would get along. While he talked a good game, Ethan had doubts especially about the elder boy's clothing. Ethan put that aside for now as Myles asked him what he was looking for. Ethan sat silently. Myles began to laugh when Ethan talked about business, he guessed the teen thought he was joking.

Ethan watched as Myles moved two crates and placed large jars on them, he sat down and invited Ethan to sit on the other. Ethan nodded and followed.

"I've grown bored of what this place has to offer...kind of, right now I'm a Blacksmith's apprentice and I want to expand my horizons with something fun." He paused and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "I think selling drugs will bring a sort of...High." Ethan said with a grin.

It seemed as if Myles had a sort of experience with the stuff. Hopefully Ethan came to the right guy.

[member="Myles Vylumnar"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

"Heheh... Yeah, I like that, that's good..." he'd say quietly with a short laugh as he caught on to his associate's joke. Myles would clear his throat and reach his left arm around his back. His hand would fidget for a second as he'd give a dead-eye look to Ethan, shooting a quick and piercing glare that would only last half a second. Suddenly, his left hand would withdraw a blaster seemingly from out of nowhere. Myles examined it for a brief second before placing it down on the crate.

"So... You want to help me distribute, then? Alright... You don't look like you're gonna burn me out, so I'll bite... For now." he said, clearing his throat once again. He brought his hands together in a clasp on the crate, fidgeting and dwindling his thumbs around. He would scoot in slightly, but still maintain a fair distant apart.

"But, if you want to sell the stuff, you gotta know the stuff. You see the jar of red powder you have your ass on? Yeah, that there is top-shelf Sansanna spice. How about we get a little acquainted?" he added with a smile. His tone once again shifted to be more upbeat. Myles stood up from his seat, fluffing up his jacket.

"Oh, and let's just get one thing straight... I am not a drug dealer."

Myles left it at that. Although, it was obvious that he clearly was a drug dealer, and he knew it. He liked to see himself in a different way, however. Everyone knew that these times in the galaxy were tough. People would do anything for just another credit. It was commonplace for innocent folks to do whatever it takes to hustle their way into just a little bit of success. It turned out that Myles' words probably had a deeper meaning than they showed.

[member="Ethan Miller"]