The little moon that could - and by could I mean could be as rotten and unwelcoming as a Krayt Dragon on Glitterstim. You had to admire that city wide rock, closest kin to the big mother planet of the Hutts - it was a wretched ball of pollution, crime, and all sorts of illegal activity, and yet that's what made the vertical city run. So why did the Republic want such a run-down, backwater - and all together soiled planet? Did they miss Coruscant that much that they had to settle for it's 'Little Coruscant' mini clone? Or perhaps they thought the task of cleaning up this cesspool of all things shady and illicit was going to be worth the effort expended. Were that the case, they'd need a planet wide evacuation, and you'd still be left with a tarnished, run down and post-vong war mess. Whatever the reason, they'd put a presence on here enough to control some trade - but the criminals here weren't typical, especially not the ones that were still in operation. They were cunning, crafty, and paid in cash and credits alike. As long as you were for sale, Nar Shaddaa was still a beacon of opportunity in a hazy yellow fog kind of way. The rich and prosperous types (read; less poor) were stashed in the towers that gave the Smuggler's moon one of it's many colorful names. The less inclined to stick out like a raging Rancor though - they laid in the lower parts of the under-city - but thankfully that's where the odd hole in the wall held the patent to the best puff-cakes this side of the Hydian way.
Oh the puff-cakes, how Dash loved them! He'd count the ways if he wasn't so busy stuffing the powder sugar coated pastries into his mouth. New client today, and that meant he wasn't going to be showing up empty handed. Word had gotten to the Hapan that there was someone looking to pay good money if he could keep the looky-lous from spying on his every action. So, dress to impress and bring the baked goods. Yea, Dash was a bit of a suck-up when he wanted to be, but of course the ulterior motive for bringing the pastries was something delicious to chow on if the nemesis to all that he was showed up -- boredom. Encrypted S-thread channels had alerted him to the job, and he'd sent back the appropriate response code to verify his arrival. Dash never went by his own name (cause what slicer was that foolish?), adopting a plethora of fake names and aliases to come about, and assist where he could. Lighthearted but highly street smart. You couldn't get by with just fast legs, you also needed a quick intellect if you were going to stay above and beyond the competition, or the resistance.
"Hey watch-it, I'm walking 'ere!" The Hapan called out as he shifted to the side to avoid the angry elbow collision of a beefed up Rodian who was clearing a path with his meaty frame while he stamped down the street-path. Pivoting on one foot as he spun keeping the box of goodies intact like a practiced waiter (though he'd never dabbled before) protecting a tray of food. That was most important after all. A snort ripped from the scaly nostrils as he turned and glared at Dash that was slowly walking away. Turning, the already angered Rodian began to charge at him, in an effort to make an example of some street punk ruining his perfectly good parting of the sentient seas.
"C'mere kid...I'll make sure you can't walk at all." Snarled the Rodian as he moved to chase down that lean cut youth with his box full of pastries.
"Uh-oh...time to go." Dash said with an amused smirk and a wink in the Rodian's rampage of a direction. In a daringly reckless move, Dash leapt towards the street, crouching onto the hood of a nearby speeder, tucking his arm around the box, and hanging on with his other one to a convenient durasteel rung. The speeder careened off course with the added weight load, but didn't stop it's progression, zipping the slicer away from the charging Rodian. The speeder swerved into a sky lane it wasn't prepared for...one going the opposite way. "You get your speeder license on the back of a Genreal Ackbar cereal box?" He said as he was nearly thrown from the vehicle. The Dug inside glared but was still in the midst of panicking. A pod-racer this one was not. The tricked whizzled back back and forth as horns blared while Dash tried to find a spot safe to exit this soon to be dismal fate. The tunnel was coming up ahead, and he knew he'd be nothing but splattered poodoo if he stayed. "All this for some pastries...really gotta get that shipment delievered next time. Let's hope you're not in the market to do that gig." A quick calculation later and Dash leapt off the speeder as it dipped power, attempting to avoid becoming a blip on the holo-net for crashes in the red district tonight.
Free-falling, for the space of a few seconds, Dash caught a break in the form of a durasteel dumpster currently in the incineration lane to take the waste to a Mustafar level furnace. The droid barely bobbed and auto-corrected his course. Dumpster diving was not part of his favorite past times, but he was spry enough to make do and keep those puff-cakes in secure holding while he held onto the side and quickly dismounted to safety where he broke into a mid-way wall run to land onto the top of a turbo lift as it sped down levels lower. A quick glance the readout on his vambrace brought the slicer to a convenient stop blocks away from the coordinates offered up when he took the job. Dropping through the vent in the left, he surprised a family of Weequay, of which he left one of the pastries as a lovely parting gift before walking out the exit and straightening his wind blown hair. His path coming only minutes behind the arrival of a brunette to which he immediately offered one of his sugar-coated bounty.
"Sweet treat, for a sweetheart?" Ever the ladies man, Dash flanked Jennifer's left and opened the somewhat scrunched box of delectable delights. The Multi-tool, the style of clothing and the location. Could he be in the presence of another slicer? Either way, she was bringing his signature grin to light on the handsome Hapan visage.
[member="Spectre"] | [member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
