Private Casting Cantina

[Ryv]

​

22:30:08
Terminus
The Atlantis, aka the "Spunky Monkey"
_________________________________________________________________________

Hidden away at the end of a trash-strewn alleyway, a small bar welcomed the denizens of Terminus with a sharp pink glow. It cut through the dull room, reaching all but the darkest corners of the dive. The stench of cigarra lingered on the furniture, trails of faint, wispy smoke rising to pool across the ceiling. Even on the busiest days, the Spunky Monkey saw maybe a dozen patrons. Its many shelves were lined with a thick layer of dust, the floor caked with grime left untouched by the proprietor. Most folks stopped by for a quick drink before a job, preferring the run down bar over bustling cantinas for the sense of privacy found within. Looking beyond the aggressive signage denoting the 'Spunky Monkey' brew at the base of the stairs leading to the entrance, an equally worn down barkeep stood behind the only clean surface within. In one hand, he held a rag likely used to rub-down the countertop, in the other, a frothing drink of some kind. The rosy liquid glowed as bright as the bar, with a steam-like substance misting from the beverage's surface. It spilled over the side, cascading down to disperse weakly against the countertop.

Across from the bartender, a Duro nursed a half-empty glass. His head hung low momentarily, swinging back up in an instant as if fighting off a need for rest. One look at the man could tell you he might've had a bit too much to drink, such a notion only reinforced by the sour stench of liquor that clung to his breath and clothing. He lifted his head, shakily keeping it in place as he muttered something to the tender. Further down the bar, a human woman sat with her chin resting in her palm. An empty plate sat in front of her, covered in both crumbs and used napkins. Her eyes drifted across the room, every so often passing over the corner furthest from the bar. While she couldn't make out the faces, two silhouettes relaxed comfortably in the U-shaped booth.

One, a Kiffar, relaxed back into his seating, two amber eyes locked on a datapad resting on the table. Both hands clasped together behind his head. He lazily dragged his knee up, his foot perched on the creased padding beneath him. The other, some variation of a near-human threw his booted feet on the table, arms crossed together over his chest. Their posturing and body language indicated a sense of ease within the rundown establishment as if forgotten bars were just another Tuesday. Empty glasses littered the table, alongside a stack of used plates, and their soon-to-be payment for services. For whatever reason, these two gentlemen selected the Spunky Monkey as the ideal place to interview a potential crew. Flyers, ads, and of course, word of mouth saw their interests spread throughout Terminus' many spaceports and cantinas. Their preferences? Those willing to get lost in the stars, take a job or ten, and throw themselves needlessly at danger for nothing more than the thrill of the life and a big payout.

Maybe waiting around in the Spunky Monkey wasn't the best business plan, but it didn't seem to bother them one bit.

Lucien Dooku | Amea Virou ​

 

[Amea Virou]

Lucien Dooku // Ryv

It felt good to be back in the Outer Rim again. The reek of coreworlds and glittery words left a bad taste that could only be fixed by at least the one round of jobs in a place where Amea could feel truly at home. Loske’s couch and shady hostels all made for lovely places to stay, sure, but if home was where the heart was then it must have been years since Amea’s had hers buried somewhere in the void between the stars.

A life on the go was a life that never got old, and when it came to keeping yourself on the move there were few things as effective as simply signing on with a crew for a while. There were undoubtedly a few problems that Amea should have seen to, along with a few questions that needed answers. However, all of that could wait for at least a little while longer. For the time being all that she truly felt a need for was a ship, a sense of fulfillment through duty, and a crew to share a few good memories with.

While traversing the streets of Terminus there had been posts that went up on the boards. Two men were seeking a crew for a quick job and quite possibly a few more. Thinking it was her break from the monotonous strain of planet living, Amea didn’t even hesitate to copy the details to her holo-device.

The instructions took her to a club called the Atlantis. The worn metal exterior spoke of a place that had seen better days. Spots of rust and dust came to light under the sharp pink neon lights that shone with a harsh shimmer. The flicker that bathed the scene in both light and dark, each flash of light bring something new up to the surface to be seen, each flaw gently highlighted in this trashed spot in a trashed alleyway in a trash city on the trashiest of all planets. This whole establishment seemed to be a trashy shithole. It was a place where people she absolutely should have despised gathered, and if that didn’t make it the most ideal place to meet good friends then Amea surely wouldn’t ever know what a good place was.

With a confident stride and a keen ear on the lookout for anyone that might try to start something, Amea took her first few steps into the bar. It was lively enough, but far from as crowded as she had expected. It might have been a good thing, maybe a bad thing. In the end she thought little of it and opted to simply approach the bar and get herself a drink. As the ale was poured up, most likely in a dirty glass, she threw a glance around her to try and make out just exactly who it was that she was meeting and where.

One of the booths housed a duo of men roughly her age. Seemed to try and make themselves appear important. So either that meant they were amateurs, or they truly were important. Either way Amea approached the booth with a squint. One of them seemed familiar somehow. Well, they both did, but one of them more than the other. And that was because, well, they were.

Although the one she knew from before was a bit more world-worn than the last time they had met, those blue eyes were hard to forget for anyone else’s. Sure, he might have had a few more scars to hide behind and the boy’s brown hair was far shorter than she seemed to remember, but this was most definitely the same little brother that she had met all that time ago. Amea felt a grin tug at the corner of her lips. Her arms crossed and she felt herself lean back in disbelief for a second as she took in the sight of none other than,

“Pretty boy.” She spoke to Lucien before her eyes set on Ryv. “And Saber Jockey.”

Oh, that toothy grin did not go away. If anything it only seemed to grow even bigger for each passing moment. Amea placed her drink on the table and let out a happy chuckle. With a swift motion she raised her hand towards Lucien and waved it towards herself as if to beckon him out of his seat.

“Get up.” She practically ordered him out of his damned seat and into a tight hug. After months if not years apart it only felt right to reunite with something better than a nickname and a quick joke. They had already been crewmates under the same captain once before which practically made them as close to a family as Amea would ever truly get. It was a connection that meant a lot to her, and it would be evident in the way she seemed to warm up at the sight of him and the way that her grin seemed to shift to the side and mellow out with a deep sigh.

“You look good, Luc.” She said and raised her hands before her as if to motion at his whole body. “I mean, you definitely look a lot worse than last, but you know… It’s a very… Grown up look for you.”

And then her eyes set on Ryv with a nod. “And you’re Loske’s friend, which practically makes you as much family as Pretty Boy over there.” Her index finger pointed straight at Lucien. The hand was lowered and Amea took a seat in front of them. “I take it you were the ones who posted the job offer, right?”

 

[Lucien Dooku]

L I K E A S T O N E
Ryv Amea Virou​

---

---

It'd been a long time since he last found himself in this part of the galaxy. Tucked beneath the radar of the big powers of the galaxy, Luc had all but removed himself from the machinations of the Order, along with the struggle that came with figuring out where he fit within that scheme. In a manner of speaking, he was back. The prince of spacer trash had returned to the comfortable realm of his old stomping ground, and no longer did he feel the need to don his armor, bark out orders, or worry about the politics of things that usually felt over his head in the first place.

He returned to a life of caring little about what was out of his control. Live free and die young, if possible, but the last bit he hoped nobody would take too much to heart. He had every intention to live as free and fast as he could, but the life of a spacer was not a new experience for him. Whether it was working with Jinnosha out in Silver space, bouncing around Bespin on a gambling spree, or smuggling all kinds of cargo back on his former home, The Infinity's Free. He might've been a daredevil, but Luc was damn good at staying alive.

He had alot to live for back then- at least by the time he joined up with the crew that ended up becoming a permanent place to lay his head and park his ship. They became the second family who allowed him to forget about the first one he let behind on Serenno. Jon's taste of music had rubbed on him a bit since being offered a room on board that rusty, reliable freighter. Ay's rigidness came to become both a source of amusement and also a comfort, when things needed to be handled. Amea's usefulness in both hostile situations and in the engine room meant that he never had to learn the nuances of the latter, whilst having someone else to watch his back. Even Quekko had been a source of his joy back then, despite the few times that the bird annoyed him to death.

He missed that bird, and he regretted being elsewhere working in the galaxy during the incident where he lost his life. The catalyst to Luc's entry into the Order happened not long after that incident, and with it came his departure from those who formed his second family. He ventured into the Unknown Regions with nothing but his droid, and entered the company of those who sought vengeance against his mutual enemy. Vengeance transitioned into ambition, the ambition became desire, and in the end he became a soldier. Still trash, but a soldier nonetheless. His hands were stained with the fighting that took place in the name of taking down the Sith. Reclaiming his home world- a future goal that always seemed ever-so distant in spite of how far the Order's gains were.

Silver lining?

He wasn't a failure, at least. Luc was still himself, regardless of the things he did in the name of fighting for the greater good of the galaxy.

For his home.​

Nightmares and terrors accompanied the darkness more often than not as a result of putting the galaxy ahead of himself. He hated himself for abandoning those who were as close to his as family, compromising himself in the name of the bigger picture. It was a shame that the galaxy didn't care for the specks of dust that Luc and every being within it was. The never-ending cycle he once raged against in conversation became a living reality, and the home he fought to free from the shackles of the Zambrano Empire was still flourishing beneath their heel. Nothing had changed at all since that punk kid had left The Infinity's Free to go fight a war on the other side of the galaxy.

Nothing except for him.​

Now he just wanted to be as normal as a guy like him could be.

- ​

22:30:08
Terminus
The Atlantis, aka the "Spunky Monkey"​

Lounging around next to Ryv, Luc didn't bother keeping an eye on the cantina's patrons, nor did his eyes linger elsewhere away from the booth whilst they waited for any potential partners-in-crime to arrive. Seated with a glass of Vasarian brandy, Luc savored the taste of the expensive liquor that had once been a favorite of his prior to going off to play soldier in the opposite side of the galaxy. The two of them were looking to start up a crew, the idea of which brought amusement to his face every time he thought about it. He'd never been the kind of guy to start up a crew, after all. Luc had been a wandering spacer for several years into his teens prior to Jon picking him up and offering him a permanent spot to call home. He had none of the responsibility needed at the time to pull such a thing off, and he was still just a kid that just wanted to fly around the stars.

The stars still called to him, but Luc was no longer the boy who shirked away from responsibility-- for the most part. He'd led men into battle, and so did Ryv. The pair had temporarily shared a bond during a particularly bloody fight some time back, and through that connection he'd come to understand just how his partner in this op thought. He could trust him to not just watch his back, but be someone he could rely on, since they both pretty much wanted the same thing. An escape, relaxation, some time off- call it what you want, the two of them were after it. Luc in specific just wanted a relatively normal life that just happened to be carefree and outside the law. He missed being nothing. Spacer trash in a nutshell. The Warlord of Nirauan had all but abandoned the Order to achieve this, as his now status of 'Missing' would affirm.

Whereas the Luc of a few years past would've laughed at the idea of starting up a crew, Luc in the present had found the idea interesting enough to give it a shot. He was in possession of a fairly substantial stash of credits after his disappearance. The start-up funds for this type of thing would drain his account dry sooner than later, but he'd made sure the two would be capable of doing this thing the right way, if they did it at all. Flyers and advertisements were dispersed around Terminus and beyond-- the latter thanks to a few well-placed advertisements that Luc had scattered across the holonet by an old business associate. If anybody happened to be interested, they knew where to find the two unnamed spacers who were looking for a crew.

Luckily for them, there was at least one bite to their efforts, and it was someone who elicited more than just an impassive stare from the man with his feet kicked up to Ryv's side. All it took was for her to call him "pretty boy" for Luc to pause so still that the ice within his drink had even been brought to a halt as he held it. "...Amea?" He replied, sitting the drink down on the table and already rising to his feet by the time she told him to get up. "I never thought i'd see you again!" Luc smiled from ear to ear, reaching around her and squeezing her with a tight embrace that probably killed the mysterious, brooding vibe that the pair were giving off from earlier. He didn't care, though. Amea was more than just an old friend. She was the closest thing to family that he had from those days where he'd been some slick kid with a cool starfighter.

A hint of red dampened his cheeks as she complimented him on his new appearance. He almost forgot that he'd cut his hair not long after his first battle. He'd almost gotten rid of the jacket too, but Luc couldn't rid himself of both the hair and the aesthetic who made him who he was. "Thanks...I mean, you look amazing too, of course. Hair's a little longer I see, but it's hard to shake off that beauty." He gave her a wink and a final squeeze before letting her go. Gesturing towards the U-shaped table next to them, Luc would wait for her to take a seat across from where Ryv was before joining his partner-in-crime next to him. "Yeah, we're the guys that I'm hoping you were lookin' for. I'm back on the open market for a while, and lookin' to go into business for myself."

 

[Ryv]

Unlike the Prince-in-Exile beside him, Ryv wasn't one to drink booze or partake in other mind-numbing substances. At least, not anymore. Years of drunken revelry and drug-addled hallucinations left his mind and body ravaged. It took years of intense meditation and regular physical training to return him to what would be considered normal for one of his age and stature. Those years definitely did good things for him, but at the same time, those years broke him. His heart shattered, skull fractured, and hand-cut away, all neatly wrapped with a ribbon of intense shame. He should've known better. Who puts their trust in someone they only just met? Someone incapable of seeing the value of even their life? A recipe for failure, alongside outright betrayal. A lesson the young Kiffar learned and hoped to never forget.

The 'Funky Monkey' wasn't the place for these sullen musings. When he swore the Barash and walked away from being a Jedi, it wasn't to sit around and be miserable beside his friends. He took the Vow in hopes of finding whatever he lacked out in the stars. That oath led him to the Atlantis, to the very booth he and Lucien shared as they awaited the arrival of whatever hopefuls saw an opportunity in such a venture. While he lacked the experience Lucien had in zipping around the stars, Ryv wasn't a stranger to the Outer Rim. Years spent in service to Agrippa The Hutt introduced him to the ruthless, cutthroat life of planets beyond the Core. Those years on Nar Shaddaa saw Ryv betray everything he learned to be growing up the son of a Jedi Knight. He welcomed the fast-paced life of crime, using what skills he cultivated training in the temples of his youth to aid Agrippa in his budding crime empire.

Mistakes saw an end to that lifestyle, the very same mistakes that almost saw an end to Ryv's life. Mercy, at the hands of a Jedi, returned him from the brink, molding him into the man he'd become. In thanks, the Kiffar dedicated himself to that Jedi's cause. Becoming a crusader, taking up the mantle of Jedi Knight in hopes of destroying the Sith Empire. Those hopes saw him to the field of battle, fighting a war young men like him had no business being a part of. There, Ryv became thoroughly acquainted with betrayal. The woman he loved betrayed him, throwing everything he'd given her to the side for some twisted sense of duty, alongside whatever comfort her new lover provided her in the nights. Left with a shattered sense of self, and a desire to be whole once again, Ryv turned to the only person he thought would understand his pain. Lucien Dooku, Prince-in-Exile, "Jedi," and young Buck trying to find his Doe, not unlike the Kiffar who now sat beside.

Before Ryv could turn an speak to his pal, a woman entered the bar. He didn't expect much from the people who'd answer their ad. Spacers, smugglers, and bounty hunters definitely weren't harmless. He just didn't expect them to carry the same sense of danger the Sith or Bryn'adul did. Up until the brunette who wandered into the Spunky Monkey? He was right. Now? He couldn't stop the glimmer of surprise passing through his eyes. She carried herself with confidence as if she knew something everyone else in the room didn't. Ryv knew that feeling, having felt it maybe a hundred times from the moment he began his Jedi training in earnest, beneath Cedric Grayson. He looked to Lucien and moved to nudge him, only for Amea's voice to beat him to the punch. She knew Lucien, which wasn't much of a surprise for the rogue. Her knowledge in Ryv, however? It left him momentarily speechless. He struggled to remember where he'd seen her before. Nothing came to mind, so he said nothing. He listened, watching the duo interact, keen to determine whether or not her intentions lined up with theirs.

Ryv offered a salute when spoken to, the saber jockey comment not a surprise either. Being the Sword of the Jedi, and declared hero of the Galactic Alliance meant he had a public profile. At her mention of Loske, everything came together. Sorta.

"Guilty as charged," Ryv admitted, leaning forward as he looked Amea up and down. "I'm not one to turn down family, especially those who get along well with Loske," he smiled. "If you're looking for work, and already get along well with two of the three best people I know, I don't imagine we need to do much of an interview. You got any questions for us? We don't want anyone going in on this thing blind."

Amea Virou | Lucien Dooku ​

 

[Amea Virou]

Ryv // Lucien Dooku

For a few moments longer, Amea let her eyes wander between the two men to get a better look at them. All things considered one of them had changed rather drastically and the other was someone she had only seen from afar as he held a speech for a massive crowd on Coruscant. He was a public figure which made it all the more interesting that he was in this room trying to recruit a crew. From the look in their eyes it was clear that they had seen more than they’d wanted, and on so many levels Amea didn’t envy them in the slightest.

Well, she never had and never would to begin with, but there was something to be said about having empathy for a friend of a friend and all that. She took a sip from her drink, gave the glass a look as well only to find that sure enough it wasn’t cleaned in the slightest. A brown ring of grim rested at the bottom of the glass canister.

“Well,” Amea said and gently let in a deep breath. Her glass found the table where she slowly began to lean her elbows against the edge. “Luc can speak for my experience as an engineer. I am a capable navigator and I’ve spent enough time in space to know when to lose my cool and when to keep focused in order to not die.”

“I generally don’t hold many rules for the crews I serve. At least none that are all that unreasonable.” She lifted her weight from her knuckles to let her forearms rest against the table’s edge. “Two hundred credits, per tour, and a room of my own. If I catch you contemplating piracy, slavery, or any form of hostile action against another sentient creature along the hyperlanes I will personally plant a hydrospanner through each of your skulls.”

With that said she leaned back in her seat with a casual shrug as she pursed her lips. “Now, considering who our mutual friends are, and that I know you Luc, I don’t expect that I have to. But I figured it’s best to leave it out there in the open so to speak.”

“What are you hoping to accomplish with these runs of yours?”

 

[Lucien Dooku]

L I K E A S T O N E
Ryv Amea Virou​

---

---

Luc wasn't all too surprised, or at least he didn't show it, when she mentioned knowing who Ryv was. Sitting back and sipping at the cold Vasarian in his glass, he quietly waited for their exchange to end, his patience tempered even further by the appearance of someone who brought good memories from his past. For a while he'd only been able to recall those times as memories, the faces of those few who formed their little family being nothing more than the remnant memories of a time that seemed all too distant by the present.

He was lucky to have met a few people who were more than just acquaintances in his opinion. The connection he forged with Ryv had long deemed them to be kindred spirits of a sort. The two had different, yet similar paths, but each one had an understanding of the other after their experiences on Muunilinist. Another just happened to be his only friend during his time within the Order, and perhaps the only one who could even come close to understanding him for who he truly was. He'd give his life to protect her, and that in itself was a vow that he planned on upholding into the present, given the circumstances. He hoped it wouldn't come to that in the future, though, but he was glad she was safe for now.

In the meantime he was free to do his own thing, and sitting there with Ryv and Amea, there wasn't much Luc had to complain about at the moment. He listened respectfully as she laid down the ground rules that came with having her in the crew, which prompted a smile as he thought back on having those same rules repeated to him back when he first joined up with Jerec's crew. Tossing a glance in Ryv's direction, his lips simmered into a smirk as his eyes shifted back across to Amea, a hand sliding onto one of the credit sticks on the table.

A shrug followed her last question. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that." He'd reply. "I just want to live free, travel the stars, and have some fun along the way. I'd like to say that our time on the Infinity's Free laid down the groundwork for what I know on how a crew should operate, so I'm personally not looking for anything in specific-- at least when it comes to you. Our ship is goin' to need a solid navigator, and you're the best engineer that I've met outside of a formal military vessel."

Sipping at his drink, Luc paused to contemplate his next words. "For the most part-- I guess my goal is another home among the stars. A place where friends can lay their head, make some credits, and have some fun along the way, however that may be, y'know?" Luc slid the credit stick across the table. "If you're in, there's four-hundred off the bat, in case you need to tie up any loose ends."

 

[Ryv]

"Great," Ryv nodded along, not interrupting further as Amea spoke. He knew enough to get by when it came to a ship's upkeep and navigation, though most of it was handled by his BD unit back on Coruscant. What she brought to the table provided the reliable groundwork necessary to build from, given neither Lucien nor Ryv could manage the everyday tasks the ship would need. It made her requests reasonable, though the Kiffar likely wouldn't have contested them, to begin with. The Outer Rim was dangerous enough as is. Mixing up a pair of battle-hardened Jedi into the mix would undoubtedly cause someone trouble. Fortunately, the trio was in agreement on who that someone, or someones, would be. The thought brought a smile to Ryv's face.

Waiting for Lucien to finish sharing, Ryv gently drummed his fingers along the table's surface. When the Prince concluded, the Kiffar leaned forward. "I'm not interested in causing problems for the folks of the Outer Rim. The work is just an excuse to go out, make a difference, and help people without being beholden to something greater," he slid his leg back under the table, his arms now resting on its clouded surface as he continued. "I'm expecting our crew to be willing to fight the good fight, whether we're fighting pirates over Mustafar, engaging spice runners over Nar Shaddaa, or relieving a Sith ship of its slaves outside Korriban. Considering its dangerous work, I won't blame anyone for picking up and leaving if they feel like it ain't for them. That goes for you too, Amea. Your history with Loske and Luc doesn't mean you're stuck with us when things get too hot. But I'm happy to have you as long as you're willing to be here."

Seeing the credit stick offered the woman, Ryv nodded along with the gesture. "Two hundred credits is reasonable. Job payout will also affect the takeaway. If we manage to land a hefty sum of creds, you, and anyone else working with us won't be limited to an agreed amount. I'm not here for riches. I've got a lot more money than I need sitting in a bank on Coruscant. My share will likely just be divided up and passed to you guys, or used for ship upkeep and repairs. Make your life as the engineer easier, by making sure you've got everything you need to keep her up and running," he reached out and lifted the datapad, activating the device with a flick of a finger. He typed away for a moment, his eyes flickering back and forth between Amea and the small screen.

"Alright, that should do," Ryv returned it to the table. "And to answer your question? I'm just lookin' for a reason. I don't know what it is yet, and to be honest with you, I don't know what that reason is for, but that's why I'm out here. Real cryptic, Jedi stuff. So, don't think much about it."

Amea Virou | Lucien Dooku ​

 

[Amea Virou]

Ryv // Lucien Dooku

A bit of this, a bit of that, and good intentions. There was a saying about those, but at the very least it was a good start. A pretty solid one if Amea was to be entirely honest. They had a grip on the situation that seemed to be good enough that she didn’t have to worry too much. Obviously they still needed her for the very same reasons that Lucien had brought up, and Amea nodded at the compliments with an ever so gentle smile.

“Sometimes home is just wherever you’re at, I get that.” Amea said and quickly pocketed the credit stick with a further appreciative smile as Ryv took over. “Well, that’s good to hear. I guess the ‘good fight’ is a bit of a subjective term, but as long as you give me my money and a target to hit I am usually at your disposal.”

Satisfied with what she had heard Amea gave them both a slow nod.

“Well, gentlemen,” She said and slowly rose from her seat to finish the last of her drink. “I feel like we’re all seeing eye-to-eye. For the moment at the very least. I have no more questions, and as far as I am concerned, this—” Amea raised the credits. “Is as good of a contract as ever.”

“Just give me a time and place to meet up and I’ll be there.”

“Oh yeah, and Luc?” She turned towards the man, her teeth baring in a lopsided grin. “Thanks for picking up my tabs again.”

With that she gave them a wink and left, arm waving towards the bartender before she pointed at the Nobleman. She got a thumbs up in response before the ‘tender went back to her business as usual half-assedly cleaning glasses that had more ingrained dirt than what was probably legal even for this part of the galaxy.

They had an engineer for their crew. Technically that was all they needed. Or so the engineer herself figured at the very least.