Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Calling All Smugglers



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Nar Shaddaa . . .

Bareesh Kajidic Pleasure Palace

The invites went out across the dark net. For a limited time only, Gorba's Pleasure Palace on Nar Shaddaa was offering free access to the palace at a Chromium-membership level. The invites specifically went out to those with connections to the smuggling rings across the galaxy and encouraged them to attend not only for the pleasures that they could experience at this location, but also for the connections they could make with "like minded entrepreneurs."

While there were a great many quarters within the palace, a large den within the Yellow Quarter had been specifically set aside for those involved in "flexible logistics" and "expedient shipping." Twi'lek and Zeltron waiters wearing basically nothing drifted in and out of the den, offering bottle service and spice to the willing. A smoky haze filled the den. An array of couches and cushions - built in a circle so as to encourage cross-talk - allowed for seating, but there were plenty of more private areas to drift off to should one choose. The lights were dim, allowing the senses to thrive.

Those who arrived were also free to explore the rest of the palace's quarters to experience everything the venue had to offer, from the Circus Horrificus of exotic animal violence in the Green Quarter to the body horror experimental cybernetics and biosynthetics of the Blue Quarter.


Sid Lauron | Johnny Diamonds Johnny Diamonds | Lucinda Anguish Lucinda Anguish | Lawq Vasrell | Kole Eckttor Kole Eckttor | Porro Tanau Porro Tanau | Arkyn Rane Arkyn Rane | Aeshi Tillian Aeshi Tillian | Brinna Dara Brinna Dara | Sorr Kortu Sorr Kortu | Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar | Siv Dragr Siv Dragr
 

Lawq Vasrell

Guest
L
Lawq Vasrell's brief and to-the-point tour of Gorba the Hutt's so-called pleasure palace was swift and cautious, even despite the fact that all the guards she had met hadn't harassed her at all - clearly, they knew who to expect, even from the ranks of the ultra-rare species to the downright bizarre.

The Qom Jha winced as she turned her one good eye, the right yellow one, away from the vomit-inducing sight of a rather fat orange-skinned Zabrak woman rolling her various fat-infused parts in varying directions to the delight of a salivating dark green Quarren of equal weight and sweatiness... From the rusted entrance to the so-called Blue Quarter, the harsh howl of a Gamorrean's squeal of agony started, followed by the whirring of a saw and the glow of blue sparks from somewhere in those dark confines, making Lawq wince and inclined her foxlike head away from the area; mercifully, the blast door whirred shut and cut off the sound of some godawful procedure the porcine alien was going through...

Petite and short even despite possessing a toned and athletic frame of brown (black along her underside) fur, outlined with barely-developed muscles along her lithe body, the Qom Jha was a bizarre sight to most that encountered her. Triangular ears rested atop a red-haired head sporting a foxlike muzzle, the right ear notched due to some animal attack. Distinct boned, gray-skinned membranes of flesh designed to carry the alien to the skies extended from her underarms, from wrist down to the base of her ribcage. Worn, knee-less cargo breeches, tan and clean even despite the current environment, adorned her athletic, if skinny legs, while her four-toed (three forward and one backward facing), exposed feet clicked anxiously over the floor as she walked just past the gyrating Zabrak and her rather amorous and handsy Quarren companion.

A specially-crafted, sleeveless gray vest kept the remainder of the flat-chested alien woman's modesty intact, while a rather long, pointed tail, brown-furred tail swayed to and fro in a nervous manner - casting her good eye in multiple directions, the Qom Jha continued to make her way along, deeper into the palace, towards the directions given to her for the meeting, keeping an eye (ha ha...) out for any other potential co-workers that she would be required to aid.

Cupping her clawed hands around the tip of her muzzle, the chiropteran alien began to call out, "I'm just here to aid in the... Entrepreneurial enterprise, as an assistant!"

A moment later, walking backwards even as she was looking behind her to ensure that no one with any ill-intent was sneaking up on her, the Qom Jha gasped and tensed, even as her shifting foot caught an exposed wire, her membaned arms flailing uselessly as she fell back at the wrong angle, landing with a resounding THUD! onto a grated floor. Wincing at the harsh stinging along her butt, the petite alien grunted and, getting to her feet with a curse, paused to rub a hand along her bent tail and stinging backside, her head swiveling around to ensure that no one besides the pointing Zabrak and Quarren were laughing at her busting her butt...

"I don't know why I expected a more upscale establishment... I'm such a kriffing idiot sometimes..." Wincing at the pain of her now-bruised tail, the Qom Jha poked her long, pointed blue tongue out at the lard-infused Zabrak, even as she continued walking... If I remember the directions right, the Hutt was back this way...
 

Kingsley

intergalactic bird of mystery
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PLEASURE PALACE
Gorba the Hutt Gorba the Hutt Lawq Vasrell

"Rrrawk! Wanna buy some deathsticks?"

Sullustan gin splashed all over Kingsley's face. It soaked the smuggler's feathers and dribbled down his beak. Another twi'lek retainer stalked away, barely concealing her disgust. He shrugged before messily inhaling another pinch of spice. Gorba's palace warped around him, the music pounding in his ears. Someone nearby said something that sounded like a question.

"Gorba the Hutt?" he loudly answered no one in particular, "Sure, I know Gorba! We played college smashball together!"

Those were fond memories. While Gorba matured and took over his family's business, Kingsley had remained more or less the same. Arrogant. Obnoxious. Dumb as a rock. It was a cruel joke of the Force that he always managed to survive. Sometimes thrive even. Dealing spice and deathsticks small time helped pay the credits he still owed some very dangerous Pykes.
 
Jack of All Trades. Master of None


Location: Nar Shaddaa | Bareesh Kajidic Pleasure Palace | Yellow Quarters
Tags: Gorba the Hutt Gorba the Hutt | Open

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Porro avoided the other quarters for the moment. He had seen the Hutt version of access and wanted to stick to the part of this pleasure palace that was dedicated to the party he had been invited to. Well to be honest he wasn’t quite sure he was invited directly. More likely the invite went to Sorr Kortu Sorr Kortu , who passed it along to Brinna Dara Brinna Dara who knew that Porro never passed up the opportunity to see a good party and network within the community.

There were certainly some nice sights to be seen. Half (if that) clothed Twi’lek and Zeltron were always nice sight, though Porro learned his lessons about letting his guard down around Zeltron women. The smokey haze was something that made Porro a bit uncomfortable. But if this Hutt invited Sorr there had to be at least a semblance of normal somewhere that was the actual site of the party itself.

A guide finally showed itself to Porro. A droid thankfully, as Porro passed by a grotesque Zabrak dancer and her equally gross Quarren patron. Porro could tell there would be little conversation with the astromech droid but he started. “Hello. I’m Porro Tanau. I understand there is a meet and greet for folks who transport goods in an expedient and quiet manner. I’m one of those folks. If you’d show me in I would be grateful.” The made a warble and started to lead the way deeper into the establishment. Porro took a second to think before he followed.
 
Gorba's palace was a city unto its self, a far cry from Vorga's shoddy manse in the slums. But then, Vorga had been rather low on the Hutt totem pole- the sleemo had certainly been rich according to the galactic standard, with his fingers in all sorts of pies, but his slices had been small compared to what Gorba was involved in. It was as a candle to a roaring flame.

But she hadn't killed Vorga yet, which made it more than passingly dangerous to be on Nar Shaddaa. Still, no smuggler- even freighter pilots who only moonlighted as smugglers- would turn down an invite from Gorba the Hutt. Especially not when she might be able to get Vorga off her back by going above his head- maybe even get him dead.

So she mingled and networked, exploring the palace at her leisure- some beings knew her from her swoop biking racing days as a youth in the underground circuits on Nar Shaddaa itself, and more knew her from the four years she'd dominated the pod-racing circuits on Malastare, but most knew her from running the blockade of Stobar, where a corporate standoff had turned into an all out dipstick-measuring contents between fleets from the GA, the Maw, and a few independents.

She'd shared the story herself in every cantina she'd visited since, hustling her story like she was still peddling death sticks down in the slums. But she was past that now. A lot had changed since her days slaving under Vorga.

She'd changed most of all.

Alright Arkyn. Let's get'er done.

She was the figure of a wily scoundrel as she strolled through the wide, lavishly decorated halls, nursing a cup of jet juice. Her greatcoat billowed as she walked with just the right flare. Her plated-vest- a necessity considering the bounty on her head- gleamed gunmetal grey, well-worn, well used, and well kept. Her gun belt hung low over gamberwool trousers that were tucked into shining brown bantha leather boots, a sleek suit of armorweave under it all.

And by her side rolled a grumpy R5 unit that she trusted with her life. She'd built him, after all, years ago, right here on Nar Shaddaa. Not that the rust bucket had ever showed her an ounce of gratefulness for it.

He was grumbling at her now, a series of rapid beeps and screeching whistles- complaining, again, about another one of her mad, suicidal plans that would end with their mutual scrapping.

"You're just a pessimist R5. I tell you what. If this works out, I'll finally finish up that new frame I've een building for ya'. Arms, legs, a new chassis- the works."

His reply was a dejected whir. He didn't believe in her.

Arkyn barked out a laugh. "Ye of little faith."
 
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Nar Shaddaa. This damn rock, again. It seemed as if when it came to the criminal element, this was the black, slimy, beating heart of it all. And the epicenter of that beating heart? Gorba's Palace. Everyone and their protocol droid knew Gorba's. When it came to the Hutts, Gorba was IT. So, she wouldn't lie if she didn't say she wasn't surprised as feth when she got an invite to the pleasure palace.

"Flexible Logistics & Expedient Shipping, eh? Chromium-membership Level? Shimra!"

Her pale pink lips twisted into a small little smile, and she immediately tossed a couple creds onto the bartop of the dingy hole-in-the-wall club she was currently having a drink at in-between stops on her 'route'. Goods to deliver, as always. Someone always needed a fix, whether it be cognition boosters, reflex tuners, or just something to dull the pain so they could keep going doing whatever it was they might be into at the moment. Saraiya Darkstar was equal opportunity, and never turned down a chance to make some bank. As she made her way outside, she put her swoop helmet on, strapping the sleek black headgear down tight. Grabbing the handlebars of her swoopbike, she tossed a high-heeled boot over, and flipped up a few toggles. Soon the bike began to lift and hover, and then she hit the igniter switch, and the rear jet barked to life. Twisting the throttle once or twice, the flames popped and sputtered just a bit. Just the way she liked it. Kicking the power-level up out of stationary, she let go of the inhibitor-clutch and the swoop rocketed off into the darkness toward Gorba's place like a Mynock-Outta-Mustafar, as her Aunty Esty would say.

Born and bred to live fast and party hard. After all, what was the point of living if you didn't enjoy it?!




 

Sorr Kortu

Socially Awkward Smuggler

Sorr took a deep breath entering Gorba the Hutt Gorba the Hutt palace, a few weeks ago he and the crew received an invitation by the Hutt to participate in a Smuggling gathering on Nar Shaadaa. This was huge because the Hutt Space Consortium has connections to some of the richest clients in the Galaxy. Of course, Sorr will have to choose carefully. They are all criminals like him, but they deal things like trafficking slave something that Sorr did not want to do at all. Besides, there were also veteran Smugglers that Sorr could meet and gain advice from that is if they don't try to backstab him. The young man took a deep breath adjusting his jacket trying his best to look "cool" though he was sweating like a Wookie on Tatooine.

"Would you like a piece of chocolate sir?" A Zeltron waitress approached Sorr holding a plate over her hand displaying the various amounts of chocolate placed on it.

"No thank you," Sorr said flashing an awkward smile while he looked around the large and immaculate palace. Porro Tanau Porro Tanau arrived first and he wondered where he went. If Sorr had to guess, it was probably at the bar somewhere.

"Hey, do you know where the-" Sorr attempted to talk to the waitress, but she already had her attention towards nearby Smugglers who were blatantly flirting with her.

"Great...." Sorr sighed before he heard a familiar voice behind. The young man turned around to see Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar arriving near the entrance riding her swoopbike. It's been sometime since Sorr last saw her back in the outskirts of Denon. She displayed a lot of talent with engineering and repairs back in their mission. Sorr wanted to ask if she wanted to join his crew, but she left in a hurry.

"Always on the move," Sorr thought. "Just like me."

Sorr approached the young woman flashing her a big smile. "Hey Sara!" Sorr shouted. "Long time no talk!" How you've been?!"

Brinna Dara Brinna Dara
 
Location: Nar Shaddaa | Gorba the Hutt’s Pleasure Palace
Objective: Networking
Tags: Gorba the Hutt Gorba the Hutt | Sorr Kortu Sorr Kortu | Porro Tanau Porro Tanau | Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar | Lawq Vasrell | Arkyn Rane Arkyn Rane | Kingsley Kingsley | Open
Outfit: Purple Dress
NPC: Shoan Dystra

“I can’t believe that I get to go into Gorba’s Pleasure Palace,” Shoan stated as he and Brinna approached the site of tonight’s party. It was the first time in a few weeks that the couple had been together. Brinna finishing up the set up for the new base on Lianna and Shoan still working hard to get his bar back in the condition it was before the IG droid made a mess of things.

“Just remember that this is as close to a date that we’re gonna get for a while,” Brinna tempered Shoan’s enthusiasm. “So that means most of the time with me. A little time networking and no time checking out the schutta Twi’lek and Zeltron I know that Gorba will have on display in there. And try to keep an eye on Sorr. You know how he is in this sort of crowd…”

As she said it she noticed that Sorr was yelling to a pink haired woman on a swoopbike. “Nevermind,” Brinna said to Shoan with a chuckle. “He’s on his own unless he comes crawling for help.”

As they walked by Sorr on their way into the palace Brinna smirked. “I’m telling Tiaza on you,” she teased Sorr and then they were on into the palace. “And networking doesn’t mean trying to be Porro’s wingman. You know what. I say no solo networking for you. We work together as a team. Get you some names, get me some contacts. We both win and the quicker we do it the quicker we go home.”
 

Lawq Vasrell

Guest
L
The Qom Jha was doing her best to avoid the nagging temptation of the presence of alcohol in the immediate vicinity, even as she shuffled her way past raucous gangsters, butt-naked Twi'leks and an uncommon number of equally nude and rather.... Large Zabrak women (seriously, where had they all come from?) of varying hues and degrees of amorous intent towards a wide variety and alien visitors from across the Galaxy.

The first hints of Lawq's growing temper were just beginning to form a frown at the corners of her muzzle when her good eye caught sight of the friendly greeting of Sorr Kortu Sorr Kortu towards Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar ; noticing how the dark-skinned human youth looked as out-of-place, uncomfortable and as lost as she felt, the demure little chiropteran alien decided that following the youth proably wouldn't be such a bad idea. She was bound to reach the vile slug who had called this ordeal together and to render what aid she could. Lawq found it strange to have taken up this job for such paltry reasons as spare credits with which to run an errand before returning to Fajyk, but the potential for an adventure had spurred her to take some additional time away from her best friend. The promise of a potential Hutt informant (especially on Nar Shadda) and confidant was too big of an opportunity to pass up, and so, the Qom Jha had somewhat warily decided to respond.

If nothing else, she might have to grab the stupid kid by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his pants and make a break for it - even if she only had a few years on the dolt, the Youngling was quite obviously a Greenhorn...

"Boo..." Stepping out of the shadows and giving the aforementioned lanky young man a gentle tap on the shoulder with a long, dexterous finger, while her other gray-membraned arm rested on her hip, next to the exotic, bronzed metal of a large blaster pistol hanging from her hip, the scarlet-haired, brown-furred alien puffed out her flat, boyish, black-furred chest as she favored the youth's companion with her good eye, the blue-white blind one on the left side glowing in the dank lighting on the Hutt's palace, her raspy voice friendly despite her inner feeling of uncertainty, a smile tugging the left side of her foxlike muzzle as patted the startled youth's shoulder a second time.

"Best that none of us go to meet the Slug alone, right? Hello there..."
 
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The slug was not actually coming unless someone sought a direct audience with him in his chambers, but his servants certainly did show up. A chorus of slaves entered through side doors, with trays stacked high with exotic and expensive appetizers, every type of drug you could imagine, and drinks from the top shelf.

They glided through the palace, handing out the party favors to those with wrist bands that marked them as part of the smugglers soiree.
 
Arkyn Rane Arkyn Rane

Aeshi did not care to do business with the kajidics. Not usually. Their cargoes' profit were solely in credits, at the cost of the customer themselves, and frankly, she could never trust the cargo to be what she thought it was.

Aeshi may have smuggled more than her fair share of cargo across all sorts of borders, but she did it for herself, and she knew what it was. But one did not turn down the invitation of the leading Hutt lorda in her line of business.

Instead, she ensured she was fashionably late, keeping her face neutral as she strode into the palace, her lips only somewhat curled at the sight. Avarice. Oppression. Decadence.

There was no real difference between Hutts and Imperials. The only real difference was that Hutts were honest about their greed. Imperials cloaked their greed for power behind words of 'virtue' like strength, stability, and safety. But their methods were ultimately just as violent as the Hutts.

She would make her circles, meet the necessary contacts, earn some credibility and favor from Gorba, then she would head out before she got herself entangled in some sort of scheme.

Something tickled in her mind through the Force. That caught her attention and she waved off a Zeltron offering her some spice. A familiar cawing caught her attention and her grimace grew deeper. Kingsley was still around, which was unfortunate.

But there was someone else here whose presence stirred slowly in the Force. Aeshi half-closed her eyes and let herself wander through the crowd, feeling her way through the crowd. Who was she looking for? Had they met before?

Or was this someone new?
 
Arkyn worked her way around the palace back to the Yellow Quarter where loud music boomed and pulsed, waving away the wafting plumes of deathstick smoke. She’d peddled spice in her youth, but never touched the stuff. She was crazy, not stupid. She did help herself to another drink though, the syrupy liquid glowing an eerie green. She took a long sip- it was tangy and sweet and warmed her up all the way down.

At her side, R5 gave a trilling whistle then wheeled his way deeper into the room, winding through the dancers and servers to a relatively empty corner where a trio of astromechs idled away from the press of gyrating bodies and scheming deviants.

On his way, he nearly bumped into a woman who was wandering around with her eyes half closed. There was something stern about her baring, even though she looked half-drunk. She stepped out of the way at the last moment, eyes still half-closed, smoothly avoided a collision. Was she high?

Arkyn sized the woman up, head tilted just so, stepping past a tall woman with a thick shock of fuschia hair ( Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar ) to move further into the room. She drifted right past Sorr Kortu Sorr Kortu , not even noticing him- her attention was elsewhere.

Aeshi Tillian Aeshi Tillian was of similar size and build to Arkyn, but her hair wasn’t as dark, and her complexion wasn’t as wan as Arkyn’s- where the woman’s eyes were gray, Arkyn’s were silver. Arkyn was certain she hadn’t seen the woman before, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew her.

“Sorry about that,” she called out. “R5’s a rude little chit, but he’s mine, ya’ know?” An easy smile graced her face, one brow raised in something like confusion. “Do I know you? The name’s Rane. Arkyn Rane.”
 

Jordan Kai'el

Guest
J

Jordan entered the Bareesh Kajidic Pleasure Palace with a confidant stride, his shoulders slouched lazily and his eyes drooping ever so slightly. He didn't like the Hutts, but business was business. The den reeked of spice and booze, with slimy guests from across the galaxy the likes of which some would struggle to imagine. But Jordan wasn't here for the drugs, nor to gawk over the barely clothed waiting staff. He was here for business. The Consortium was lucrative these days, and the smuggler was always happy to line his own pockets with some credit.

As he made his way through the palace, Jordan was careful not to lay a hand on anything for too long. The last thing he wanted was for his Psychometry to kick in and show him something he'd rather have left to the imagination. He watched as others began to form into groups, but felt no need to do so himself. Why waste time socializing when he could go straight to the big man himself: Gorba the Hutt Gorba the Hutt . Seemingly, Gorba was nowhere to be found, at least where the event was taking place.

"No Hutt, huh?" Jordan noted, muttering to himself as he scanned the palace.

Gorba was not out amongst the guests, which Jordan wasn't surprised by. Hutts were slothful, and if one could remain in the comfort of their personal chambers, they would surely do so. The smuggler figured he'd head that way and make himself known, after grabbing a quick drink.
 
Deep.

Maybe in too deep.

Weeks of work, months of planning, and years of training brought him here.

Deep-cover. Using his old alias. He was here, he had to be smart. A wrong move and the operation was a bust, and anything fruitful that the Alliance could gain from his venture was gone, up in smoke. CorSec had nothing on the level of scum he was dealing with here. Slaves, drugs, whatever else-

Relan had to put on a facade, a face. He viewed it like wearing a mask. It wasn't really him. He just had to put on the mask, and be the person on the mask while he was here. He was still him, underneath that mask. It was easy to get lost in an assignment.

The wristband checked out. His cover checked out. Tyrin Flor, weapons smuggler. Took a few shipments (tracked through various other means than locators) to get him here. Weapons that earned him a spot. No communicator, no photos. He was on his own.

So, as one of the slaves passed by, he made a rude remark- and did a line of a powder, and took a drink. Had to play the part, had to play the part....
 
Arkyn Rane Arkyn Rane

An angry droid chittered behind her and Aeshi spun on her heel, looking for what might cause the disruption. Instead, there was a younger woman, followed by an angry droid, although she soon apologized and introduced herself. That set some bells ticking in her mind and Aeshi tilted her head, assessing the woman.

This was definitely the presence in the Force that she had felt, and there was something familiar about the voice as well. Aeshi racked her brain for a moment.

"Arkyn Rane?" There was a question in her tone. "Do you captain the Dragonsnake?" If so, that would be a coincidence. Or, perhaps Tiland had a point about there being no such thing as luck or coincidences.
 
"Yeah that's my ship." She took another sip of her drink, savoring the tangy burn. "I recognize your voice from my little kerfluffle over Ione. You were piloting that YV-929, yeah?" Another sip. The little tumbler was nearly empty now. "Thanks for your help, by the way. And sorry for bailing, but I wasn't exactly equipped to take down ol' Karko.That was pretty heroic of you. I guess I owe ya' one."

She finished her drink, smacking her lips together as she sighed. The drink was delicious. She grabbed another from a passing scantily-clad server, his junk barely contained within tiny thong. "Actually, that was very heroic of you. Don't meet a lot of hero-types in our line of work." A thought came to her, unbidden, of when she realized she was Force sensitive, and she had an inkling. She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "You some sort of Jedi?"

Aeshi Tillian Aeshi Tillian
 
Arkyn Rane Arkyn Rane

"That's what I thought," Aeshi said, nodding. "And yep. My ship's the Requiem. Even if that's not what the transponder says." She allowed herself half a smile at the joke. Normally, that would be a dangerous joke, but here? That was the bottom of the crimes committed by the attendees of this party. Well, except maybe jaywalking or double parking, but like she once heard, crimes punished by fines are only illegal for the poor. For everyone else, they just paid for the 'privilege.' "Karko?" She looked up, puzzled. "Was that who that was? I don't really pay attention to bounty hunters. Damned terrible pilot anyway-"

At the last whisper, Aeshi nearly choked on her whiskey before she caught her breath, pounding at her chest to clear her airways. Her eyes darted around the room before maneuvering herself towards a wall that she could place her back to in a moment's notice if needed. She shot back in a low voice. "You trying to get me killed?"

Nobody seemed to have paid attention or noticed, at least as far as she could tell, so let out a long breath for a moment before resting her free hand on the hilt of her pistol. "No, I'm no Jedi. They're a bit too talky and a bit too wishy-washy for me. I can use the Force, more or less, if that's what you mean."
 
Aeshi Tillian Aeshi Tillian

"More or less, eh?" Another sip of green, glowing, goodness. "Same. Emphasis on the less. Don't really have much practice." She glanced around, searching for somewhere more secluded, and saw an empty private booth on the far side of the room. "Fancy a chat?" She gestured to the booth. "I need to have a word with Gorba, eventually, but in the meantime...I've got questions. About, you know," she leaned in close again, "the Force," she finished with a whisper. "And at the very least, I owe you a drink or two." Nevermind that Gorba's footing the bill.

As she leaned back, she noticed Sorr, paused in stupified confusion, and promptly turned away. No fething way the kid is here. Gorba must be desperate...'less the kids toughened up some since Empress Teta. Never thought I'd run into him again, especially not here of all places.

"So, a chat?"
 
Arkyn Rane Arkyn Rane

Aeshi's fingers were itching, and her eyes darted around the chaos around them. It was hard enough being in this sort of crowd with a bounty on her head, but the fact someone may have heard described as a sort of Jedi.

She nodded her head towards the booth, "Yeah. Let's take a chat. I'll see what I can answer." That said, she glided around the crowd until she could sit in the booth against the wall.

"There are more in the galaxy that can use you-know-what than the Jedi or Sith," she said quietly, eyes darting around.
 
Arkyn followed Aeshi Tillian Aeshi Tillian to the empty booth.

"That's good to know, 'cause neither of those sound like much fun. Not quite my style." She finished the last dregs of her beverage then called for another, as well as one of whatever Aeshi was drinking. The other woman seemed a bit anxious. Maybe another drink might mellow her out a bit. "Not quite your style either, from what I can see."

She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, voice low. "What else is there? What are you?" Their drinks arrived, the service surprisingly prompt. Arkyn tipped the server and waved her on. She immediately sipped from her beverage, smacking her lips to savor the taste. Vorga used to drink the stuff all the time, but he never shared.
Now I understand why.
 

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