Jail Break

[Kairon Rees]

Rees pulled the cork from another bottle of red, leaving it to breathe on the side of his desk. Before him was a range of cheeses, breads and meats and half empty glass. He took a chunk of cheese, gripped his glass and leant back in his chair.

As the Captain, he had the best room on the ship, but it was not exactly spacious. His large bed, when pulled down from the wall, took up half the room.

He tapped a button on his datapad and quiet classical music started to play. He savoured a bite of cheese, washing it down with the mediocre wine.

Most of the food they carried was vacuum sealed and dehydrated to save space and weight. This shipment of cargo was relatively small, so they'd been able to take some fresh food.

Even though he kept some distance from the crew, as he believed any good captain should, he still enjoyed a good night out with them. Tonight, however, he was in the mood for more refined pleasures. Later he needed to conduct some business is one of the bars on Coronet City.

There was a knock on the door. He sighed quietly before calling: “Yes?” He turned the volume of his music down.

His first mate, Jarrick Hague, opened the door. He wasn’t dressed in his work garb. He was dressed in a relatively smart black short that showed off his large arms.

“The crew is heading out then?” Kairon surmised.

“Yes sir, was just wondering if there was anything you needed me to attend to, or if maybe you wanted to come for a few drinks with the crew?”

Kairon held up three fingers. “Make sure that Asmus doesn’t sleep with anything married to a Bounty Hunter, Corsec Agent, or any species over seven feet in height,” he checked off each finger as he announced the list.

“As the list gets longer!” Jarrick replied.

“And it always will, the boy never ceases to amaze me with his capacity to find trouble,” Kairon explained. He would stay, of course. As far as he was concerned there was always a need to keep some separation between crew and captain. Having his own nephew aboard was as much trouble on its own.

“Alright sir, catch you later!” Jarrick replied and left. Kairon heard a few shouts as the excited crew gathered and left. They hadn’t settled down on a world for more than a few hours in weeks.

He settled himself in his chair, and reached for the book tucked behind the cushions. He settled it on his lap, turned the music back up and reached for his glass.




A few hours later he was woken by his alarm. In dozing off he had left half of the last bottle of wine. A shame, he could neither finish it nor leave it for another occasion. He still had a pleasurable buzz from the wine he'd already drunk, at least.

Rees pushed himself back up to his feet slowly. His right knee still ached sometimes, and he rubbed it before walking to his door. Many years ago a crewman on an ore transport had lacked the sense to give up when pirates had taken his vessel. He'd slipped the vibroknife right underneath Rees' kneecap, before the pirate had cracked his skull with the butt of his pistol. The Captain of the quintessence grimaced as he recalled the incredible pain. Stupid kid, pirates didn't kill the crew when they could be ransomed back to the transport company.

The bar he needed to head to was called the tipsy sailor. A reputable enough place, but only as far as the fact that it tended to serve the more reputable criminals. Tonight several members of the smuggler’s alliance would be negotiating for an agreement to ship some goods out to a world on the far side of the galaxy with laws somewhat less lax than Corellia’s on alcohol. Kairon drew the line at spice and dangerous drugs, but he’d never seen the harm in alcohol. That wasn’t strictly true, he thought to himself, he had frequently seen the harm in alcohol first hand. Perhaps he was being



Asmus slunk up the ramp behind the returning crew. He pulled his long hair pack and tied it in as tail to keep his messed up locks vaguely presentable. He needed a shower and to change his clothes quickly. The night had started poorly, he reflected, but it had ended very well indeed. He quietly sent a prayer to whomever had found the inhibition removing properties of drugs.

There was a lot of noise coming from the corridor that led away from the cargo bay. Asmus darted between the twins as they moved back and forth across the bay, checking that the cargo was secure. His uncle strode past them all. Asmus started to head into the ship.

“You!” Kairon snapped, turning around. Asmus swore under his breath. The old man had eyes on the back of his head. He felt a hot flush rise to his cheeks. He knew he was in for another tirade. Why did his uncle always have to treat him like a child? Why did he always get chastised in front of the rest of the crew? He tried to stand tall and meet his uncle’s eyes.

“Really? You’re going to go from slinking behind my back to standing there defiantly so quickly?” Kairon asked.

“I don’t see that my personal affairs are any of your…”

“Oh save it. I told you to stick with the crew and I have a message from Hague saying you slipped away again.” Kairon continued. Asmus tried to stand firm, he wished he was just a few inches taller so he could meet his uncle’s gaze at the same level. He was sure he would be taller than him next year. He held the gaze for a few moments. Those eyes were so like his own fathers. They both had that same look of deep disappointment when arguing with him

Asmus had always ignored his father’s orders. He had no passion for anything, and had just wanted his son to follow in his footsteps into a fantastically dull lifestyle. But Kairon’s gaze was different. There was a fierce anger in that gaze that Asmus could not meet, he respected him far more than his own father. He just wished he could see the fun side of their lifestyle. He suddenly found he was looking at his feet. Like a child, again, and in front of the crew.

“Get to the stern hold and check everything is stowed correctly,” Kairon ordered. Asmus looked up with defiance, but he knew he could not meet that stare again.

“Yes sir,” he muttered.

He turned and walked down the corridor towards the stern hold. Hague was on the corridor ahead of him, a streak down his shirt where he had spilled bear down it. Asmus expected him to make a joke as soon as Rees was out of earshot. “I’ll grab you a coffee and a pain killer,” he whispered conspiratorially instead.

“Thanks,” he muttered in reply.



Kairon arrived outside the Tipsy sailor. It was past midnight now and the streets were filled with revellers leaving their bars. The plan was that it would be fairly quietly shortly and those involved could conduct their negotiations in peace. He slid open the door, wondering who else from the rag-tag alliance would be present.


[member="Robb Killian"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Jace Trent"] [member="Listeri Dalane"] [member="Eliza Steele"]

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

All the most famous smugglers were Corellians. It must be something in the air, or the whiskey, or just the fact that they were at the center of the universe and knew it. They were nearly regarded as their own race instead of the humans they were. There was a lot of pride in being from this hub.

Corvetta was not Corellian--really, she did not know where she belonged. Her family was from Chandrila, though she had never even set foot on their homeworld despite all their travels. Sure, she had seen the view from space several times, but her father had never been keen on going down there for some reason. Having been in space all her life--even born in space--the pilot never was certain where to call 'home', and she supposed she could claim Corellia as much as she could claim any other homeworld.

That really did not go over very well. Of course she would stop by the Tipsy Sailor on trivia night, and of course it would be her turn to answer the one question every full-blooded Corellian would know, and of course she had no clue what the answer was. She did not belong. This was not her home. Nearly in tears from embarrassment after her deception had been discovered, the pilot of Lost Cause dejectedly took a seat at the corner booth and began a round of shots. Maybe it was time to convince her crewmates to visit Chandrila.

[member="Robb Killian"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Jace Trent"] [member="Eliza Steele"] [member="Damon Riggs"] [member="Colap Ticon"] [member="Galen Arterius"]

 

[Robb Killian]

Robb grinned as he approached the 'Tipsy Sailor', he was glad to be back in a city, especially Coronet. Coronet had a galaxy renowned swoop racing circuit, and Robb had always wanted to try his hand. Upon landing he had excused himself from his crew's company, having "urgent and private business to attend to," and left to find a race. Using some of his saved up earnings (whatever he hadn't blown on ammo, repairs, or drink anyway) he had rented a bike and bet the rest on himself before partaking. It had been a lower tier race, true enough. But the pride of victory, along with his freshly lined pockets, had brightened Robb's spirits considerably, almost uncharacteristically so. Almost like the good ol' days.

He parked his rented swoop out behind the bar, grinning like an idiot as he strolled around through the side alley and to the establishment's entrance. Maybe it was his recent good fortune (or the promise of a proper Corellian drink) but for some inexplicable reason, Robb was feeling lucky.

The hour was late when Robb stepped through the doors of the 'Sailor', but that had been the point hadn't it? To meet with his allies undisturbed? The room smelled of smoke and spirits and carried an air of goodhearted revelry that only a Corellian bar could inspire. Robb glanced around the establishment, trying to make out a friendly face.

Some patrons, who appeared to be regulars, seemed to have intentions of hanging around, while the others, general riff-raff by the looks of them, were gradually thinning out. After a few moments he thought he saw [member="Kairon Rees"] , an alliance member whom he only knew by reputation, and was debating whether or not to introduce himself when he saw his crew mate,[member="Corvetta Salvo"] , in a corner booth. Thank the force! A friendly face.

Robb's strolled over the Corvetta's booth, still brimming with uncharacteristic enthusiasm and good humor, and slid onto the bench opposite his crew mate. Without hesitation he flagged down a passing waitress to order a drink, all smiles. She was a pretty thing, though she seemed a little young to be serving drinks at a bar so late. "A bottle of your finest whiskey, please. Corellian, of course."

Having ordered his drink he turned to address his friend. "Hey there 'Corvy'..." , his grin waned upon seeing his friend's expression, "...whats...'crankin'...?"

Corvetta was apparently in the process of knocking back a series of shots, and while he was used to seeing her drink, she seemed different somehow, troubled. His usually cheerful friend seemed to be drinking for the wrong reasons rather than the right ones. Robb cocked an eyebrow and drummed his fingers on the table-top, completely out of his element and unsure of how to proceed. Where's Kohai and Davik when I need 'em?

[member="Davik Tren"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Jace Trent"] [member="Eliza Steele"] [member="Damon Riggs"] [member="Colap Ticon"] [member="Galen Arterius"]

 

[Davik Tren]

Davik usually did not have this much trouble with cities, but more and more he found Coronet's winding alleys confused him. The fact that the coordinates he was given were very vague as well for the city standards on Corellia. Or maybe it was just him... Whatever the reason he felt as though he was wasting more and more time in yet another scrungy alleyway in which small furred rodents and insects thrived. He wished he had been granted a better sense of directions for just these situations. It had plagued him as a Hunter, which had largely been the reason he had stopped, and only frustrated him when he had somewhere to be...

It had been nearly twenty minutes later until Davik found the place he was looking for, 'Tipsy Sailor'. The name was almost as strange to him as Xagobah, but he knew it would be the typical smugglers hideaway that Corvetta would have sought out after if she went on one of her excursions, which were quite often and somewhat irritating when she passed out in one. Upon entering the small time cantina the spacer braced himself for the familiar waft of smoke which, naturally, still found its way inside his nose. He briskly scanned the booths and noticed not one familiar soul but two. The glint of a familiar bandolier had drawn him ever. Finally upon reaching the booth, Davik sat down next to Robb and gave him a lit hit to the arm. "Room for one more?"

With one look to Corvetta he could tell something was wrong, but seeing as Robb he had heard Robb address the issue moments before his arrival, he decided to leave it to him. "Probably ran out of 'creds. Can't afford anymore." He said it jokingly of course, but he gave a light smile to show that it was as such before signaling to the serving droid that was doing its rounds.

[member="Robb Killian"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon took a moment to look around the room. There were a number of familiar faces already present. Checking the chrono on the inside of his wrist, Kairon decided to go and meet their potential business partner.

He stepped up to the bar, leant forwards and signalled for the barman, mumbling his drink order.

“What was that?” asked the barman.

Kairon sighed, shaking his head. Still in hushed tones he repeated: “I would like…ah…a beast with two backs. Please.”

“Excellent choice,” The barman grinned and stepped away from him, turning to the variety of drinks that adorned the back wall.

“Stupid bloody password,” Kairon mumbled to himself. A moment later the barman returned with a tall glass. Two liquids balanced on top of each other perfectly; a clear green liquid at the top and an opaque black one beneath. The barman sat the drink down on a red napkin and walked away.

Kairon picked up the drink and took a sniff. He decided against taking a sip. He noticed the words “booth 7” had been scrawled on the napkin.

Looking around for a moment he saw a series of numbered booths at the back of the bar. Several were large and had privacy screens across the entrances. Kairon walked in that direction. A bouncer stood in his way, blocking off the larger booths from the rest of the bar. As soon as he saw the two-toned drink in his hand he waved Kairon past towards the appropriate booth.

He walked around the privacy screen to find Asan Neet already sat at the long table. Before him was a drink, Kairon noted it was not the two-tone drink he had been forced to order to gain access to the meeting, and to either side sat a heavily muscled guard.

“Ah Rees,” Asan said pleasantly. “It has been a while! Please sit, you appear to be the first one,”

“Good to see you too,” Kairon replied, taking his seat.

“Didn’t expect to see you here. Flat rate transport isn’t usually your business model, you normally go for buying and selling the more difficult goods to come by!” Asan said, making polite conversation. He was getting old now, Rees guessed he must have been in his seventies. He had been short and frail in his prime, but age had not been kind to Asan. The slightly loose skin and wispy grey hair did not suit him at all.

“That’s true, but I’m always interested in listening out for potential work. So I heard you might have had a chat with another group last night, this a competitive negotiation?” Rees asked.

“Of course!” Asan replied. “I like how straight to the point you are Rees. It was the smuggler’s…union…no…party…I can’t remember” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Anyway for a contract this big I decided to test the water with a few parties, need to ensure I’m getting a good price for this much work. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Why don’t we wait for the rest of …. Erm…Smuggler’s Alliance is it? There are so many of you these days!”

 

[Kairon Rees]

Spoiler

[member="Davik Tren"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"]
If people want to join the private booth, I'll get the fight kicked off

 

[Kohai Drenn]

A mouthful of warm water splashed into the sink of the empty fresher. For several minutes, the chief engineer of the Lost Cause had been meticulously trying to rid her mouth of the ghastly aftertaste of some drink she couldn't recall. It was not working.

Growing up in the lower levels of Coruscant, Kohai's shop had been on the same corner as the local cantina, but she had never really taken to drinking, herself. Never saw the need, she had plenty of fun while sober. Regardless, here she was, hunched over in the fresher of the Tipsy Sailor, spitting whiskey-flavored water into a sink.

Kohai had a reason to be here, though. The Smuggler's Alliance was to negotiate an agreement to ship some goods off-world, and her crew had jumped at the opportunity. Also, Corvetta was probably falling head-over-heels into a shot glass right about now, and somebody usually had to help her back to the ship at that point. Ever the concerned friend, Kohai was usually the one who offered a shoulder.

...I can still taste it...

Having resolved herself to having an unpleasant taste in her mouth for the night, Kohai wiped her wet hands on her pants, readjusted her suspenders, and made her way back into the cantina's main area.

Taking a moment to remember where they were seated, Kohai directed her attention to the booth where she'd left her friend... and apparently the rest of the crew had arrived. She could only hope she hadn't missed anything exciting as she made her way back to their spot.

"Hey guys! Bout time you showed..." The engineer trailed off as the easy grin fell from her face in favor of a concerned frown. All it took was a glance to tell that Corvetta had picked up speed since she left the table some time ago. There was a thoroughly miserable look stuck on her face, and the space in front of her was covered with overturned shot glasses.

Sliding into the booth next to Corvetta, Kohai bumped the pilot's shoulder with her own. "Jeez, girl. I wasn't gone that long... You okay?" She gave her friend a smile she hoped was comforting.

Of course she's fine. She's always fine. We've been here before...

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Davik Tren"]

 

[Robb Killian]

Robb was unabled to express his graditude when both [member="Davik Tren"] and [member="Kohai Drenn"] sat down at the booth. Salvation.

The waitress returned with Robb's bottle, and a glass, almost as soon as Davik sat down. Quick...I'll have to remember to tip her... Robb took up his glass and eyed it, turning it this way and that, like a gem-cutter appraising his next project. [member="Corvetta Salvo"] hadn't said a word since he'd sat down, and the fact that she wasn't talking only made it harder to come up with something to say. He ultimately decided the best course of action was to let her be, for the moment at least.

Robb took two of Corvetta's upended shot glasses, filled them with some of his whiskey, and pushed one across the table toward his crew-mate in what he hoped came across as a gesture of understanding, rather than enabling. He raised his glass to her in a silent toast, and downed his shot with a slight grimace. Good whiskey indeed.

He looked up from his glass and watched as [member="Kairon Rees"] made his way to the private section at the back of the bar, where he was admitted into one of the booths by one extraordinarily neck-less bouncer. Guess the deal is on...time to go to work. Robb rose from his seat and slid past Davik. "You guys take care of 'Corvy', I'm going to go...over there." Once he was outside the booth, Robb leaned back across the table and retrieved his bottle before walking over toward the private booths. Might come in handy.

Robb approached the bouncer as casually as he could manage. "Neck-less" glared at him with beady eyes as he approached. Robb offered his most earnest smile and indicated the booth Rees had disappeared into, "I'm with him."

 

[Kairon Rees]

The screen was pulled back by one of the staff, who had a quiet word with Asan. "Is he with you?" Asan asked, waving his hand towards [member="Robb Killian"] and the muscle.

Kairon took a moment, he still didn't recognise all the faces in the alliance. "Yup,"

"Fine," Asan replied, he spoke a word to the staff member who approached the guard. Robb was waved towards the booth and joined them. the screen was pulled back into place.

"I don't know," Asan started. "I come up with a system for security and you just go and ignore it..."

"No," interrupted Kairon. "You came up with a system that forced us to buy a drink with an embarrassing name from the bar.

Asan grinned, "You don't know the half of it. When I'm meeting someone I really don't like I can be quite imaginative with my passwords. Now, is anyone else coming to hear about my offer?"



OOC/ Robb, I assumed you'd sit down after being allowed in, I hope that's acceptable!

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

'Corvy' allowed a faint smile as all her friends suddenly arrived. They caught her in her usual position: face-first in a glass of some sort of alcohol. In fact, she had first met K/Koko/Peaches when she was a few sips away from the floor. By now, they were all probably wishing for some sort of variation from just drinking or flying. She mused over that for a brief moment but decided she did not want to think much right now.

Davik entered the booth beside Robb and made a joke. It was kind of cute but nothing to break her mood, though it was always a little funny to see them together. The Lost Cause boys were a little curious to her. They were pretty cool but mysterious, and she would swear they were always scheming something. Then again, she and Kohai could sometimes be a wild duo themselves. And who should show up now but her blond buddy, returned from... whatever she was doing in the fresher. Hurling?

Yeah, there seemed to be some unspoken pacts between the crewmates of the opposite genders, because they always kept to 'their side' of the table. Or Corvetta was just drunk and thinking up silly things now. That was always a possibility. "I'm alright... Snazzy 'n' stuff," she responded, unconvincingly. Whoever they were supposed to meet with had apparently arrived while the pilot was mentally isolated, and 'Killer' removed himself from the table and rushed off to whatever their rendezvous was. Corvetta was not ready quite yet to talk business, but anything to get her mind off things for now might be healthy.

"Yeah, Koko. Just lost a bet," she half-lied. She might open up to her friend later, but for now... "Think Killer needs any moral support?"

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Kohai Drenn"]

 

[Robb Killian]

(OOC/ More than acceptable, Kairon. You saved me from having to write it myself.)

Robb offered [member="Kairon Rees"] and this "Asan" a salutary nod as he dropped into his seat. Setting his bottle of whiskey down on the table before him, he took a moment to size Asan up while he and Rees continued their discussion.

Their contact was, by all appearances, aging poorly. His heavily lined face gave him a worn out look, betraying a hard life of vice and criminal pursuits. While the few wisps of grey hair he still possessed betrayed a liver spotted scalp, despite the comb over. At first glance Robb would never have taken this haggard old man for a criminal of any prominence. But the man's eyes told a different story all together.

Asan's hazel eyes shone with intelligence, despite his aged appearance. The man smiled often, but his grin never quite matched up with his calculating stare. This slippery bastard is sizing us up, weighing his options.

Robb took a long pull straight from the bottle, wiped his mouth with his forearm, and set the bottle back down on the table top, keeping a firm grip on the neck. He didn't feel like bantering with Asan, he didn't feel like talking, period. As far as he was concerned, his job was to look as imposing as he could while Rees handled the negotiations. Drinking had settled his nerves from before, and even brought back the high from his recent win.

Robb held onto that euphoria and offered up a calm veneer of his own. He centered himself, channeling his mounting restlessness into that pit, deep in his chest, where the anger sat, solid and defiant. Gone was his apprehension, his anxiety, his fear. Now he was ready. Now he was calm.

Robb's trigger finger itched, but he compensated by rapping the knuckles of his empty hand rhythmically on the tabletop. Asan's gaze was ever shifting, ever moving. From Rees, to Robb, to his hired muscle, and back again. Robb met his toothy grin and calculating stare, matching it with one of his own. His smile not quite reaching his eyes. I've got my eye on you, old man.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Davik Tren"]

 

[Nej Tane]

Nej entered the Tipsy Sailor. Tipsy....Sailor. When was the last time anyone considered themselves a sailor? Sails. Such a strange concept to Nej, using the wind for navigation instead of an engine or your own feet. Too much to rely on. Anyways, Nej placed his hands on his equipment strained hips. Wait. He didn't carry of that tonight. He was a date to a higher class Miralakarakan (whatever they called themselves) girl. She liked the bad boys. And the broke ones. But not the ones who punched their dads in their stupid green faces when their dads happened to bring up those facts to him. Sure, Nej might have been low on cash and a bit of a scumbag and *maybe* wanted in some parts, but HEY, who wasn't in some ways? Best way to get noticed is to be good at what you did. And Nej was good at being Nej. So, Nej wanted to drink. He wasn't well known in any sort of group, in fact the 'Smugglers Alliance' (he never liked the name) probably only knew him as the unlucky guy who owed a lot of money to a pissed off Hutt.

He opened the bar, and looked around. He looked nice in the suit, at least. The bartender looked surprised in his posture when he asked for a beer. He definitely did not look the part tonight of a guy who would drink a beer. But seriously, who doesn't like beer?

 

[Kairon Rees]

Agent Nihaal was bored. Sat above the sailor on the opposite side of the street, he and his partner were preparing for another dutiful night of observation and note taking.

"How many confirmed smugglers is that not, six, seven?" he asked.

"Something like that," replied his partner.

"Anyone with a rap sheet?" he asked hopefully.

"Nothing firm,"

"Damn," he muttered. They'd been tracing Asan Neet's operation for weeks now, and still had nothing to tie the crime lord to. They knew he was importing and exporting illegally, but nothing had been linked to him. No matter how many petty criminals and smugglers they arrested, they needed to get to the source.

"Interesting," his partner suddenly proclaimed. "Not one of tonight's smugglers came with the crowd last night,"

"Oh?"

"And what's more interesting is that last night's crowd just pulled up across the street!"

Nihaal followed his partner's gaze to a group of men approaching the doors of the sailor. "They do not look happy!"

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon didn't know if Robb was deliberately trying to put Asan off his game, or was blissfully ignorant of the effect he was having. Either way, he was appreciative of anything which knocked the wily old bastard off his game.

"So..." Asan started. "I have a large amount of aged Corellian whiskey, Janeson reserve. It's strong enough to be illegal in certain sectors, and it costs a fortune to export. Now if I can...

"How much?" Kairon interrupted, furiously scribbling notes. He decided to follow Robb's game of trying to put Asan off his.

"I'll get to that," Asan relied briskly. "Now if I could get this stuff off-world quietly, and had a contact on a world where this isn't a legal import - which I do - well this could be quite profitable,"

"Could be as much as a thousand per bottle depending on the reserve," Kairon replied. That definitely took Asan by surprise. Kairon knew the worth of goods all too well. It wasn't knowledge from his smuggling days, it was from his past as a pirate. Those years he tried to forget, those dreadful, bloody years. But at the same time, he needed to recall what was worth selling and where it was worth selling.

"What's that noise?" one of the guards asked.

Kairon turned his head, he couldn't see past the screen that obscured their booth, but he could hear he ruckus.


OOC/ Feel free to introduce some colourful rival smugglers! They're not happy that Asan is talking to a rival group.

 

[Darulon Toga]

Darulon tapped his fingers on the speeder's dashboard in time with the music's heavy bass. He loved this kind of music, the bass flowed through him and made him feel alive, virile, and invincible. He was in good spirits, but the same could not be said for his partner, and mentor, [member="Renci Selzen"]. She had been spitting venom for the duration of the ride back to the Tipsy sailor, and still showed no signs of stopping. I swear, if she grips the controls any tighter she'll tear it off...

She'd been like this ever since she got the tip off that their new client, Asan Neet, was contracting some organization of smugglers, The Smuggler's Guild or some such nonsense, for the same job he'd offered Renci's crew. Darulon had thought Asan to be a shifty old man, but he wouldn't have pegged him for stupid. Who in their right mine would cross Renci?

Renci brought the speeder to a halt across the street from the Tipsy Sailor, switched off the engines, and stormed off toward the entrance, and Darulon was right on her heavily armored heels. Sensing trouble, he reached into his vest and laced the fingers of his right hand through the grips of his vibro-knucklers. Things always get fun when Renci's like this.

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Nej Tane"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Davik Tren"]

 

[Nej Tane]

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Darulon Toga"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"]


The door knocked open. Well, okay, maybe not knocked. More like violently swung on it's hinges in an incredibly loud and quick motion. A few gruff looking, ugly type waltzed into the bar. Nej shrugged and went back to his drink. However, a short, stocky, burly human came up to him, with a taller Zabrak behind him. Nej turned and leaned on the bar."Can I help you guys...?"He inquired, sipping at his beer.

"Yeah, youse with those guys over theres?"The stocky little midget guy pointed over to where a few of his Smugglers Alliance 'friends' were crouched behind talking to some little weasel. Nej shrugged and answered honestly."I mean, I know them."His face, his beautiful, chiseled face, was then smooshed inward by a fist. A fist, and then a fist to his gut, and then a flip over the bar. Nej fell on the floor, disoriented, and boy, did he have a booboo. He didn't have a gun on him, so that didn't help either. Especially when the midget straight up got up on the bar like it was a wrestling arena and elbow dropped his chest. Nej began to tussle with the midget, while the Zabrak and a few others poured into the bar.

"Get off me you short son of a queen!"

"My mom drank!" Punch, wrestle.

"HOW MUCH!!?!"

Nej could have sworn he felt tears on his suit as the man continued to brawl with him."SHE DRANK SO MUCH WITH ME! WHY ME!"

"...Are you crying?"

There was a momentary pause in the fighting where Nej could have heard sobs, before the midget guy went all straight up psycho, and began to tug at his REALLY NICE SUIT. Nej stood up, the little guy throwing around on his back."I NEVER CRY!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Nej began to run around the bar with a short human hitting him and holding onto his back for dear life.

 

[Renci Selzen]

Renci practically tore the Tipsy Sailor's front door from it's hinges as she shoulderd her way into the bar. Her blood was up, and she felt good in spite of her anger. She flexed her gauntlet-ed fingers as she surveyed the bar's interior, scanning the dwindling crowd for her target. That old bastard is going to die tonight.

The Tipsy Sailor was in sad shape tonight as far as the patrons were concerned. The common area was occupied by a sparse amount of regulars, drowning themselves in their joys and sorrows. Only one booth seemed to be occupied, though from where Renci stood she couldn't make out the occupants. But when she spied one of Asan's goons standing post outside the private section, Renci knew exactly where to go. She took off in the direction of the private section, her boots pounding away at the floor, without so much as a glance to check if [member="Darulon Toga"] was following or not. That was when the shouting started, drawing her attention away from her target and toward the commotion.

A group of thugs stood around a ludicrously overdressed man and his Mirialan companion, both far overdressed for this part of town. Before long the ringleader, and possibly the shortest man Renci had ever seen, Lept upon the pretty boy, raining a series of blows upon him as he ran around the bar. Both men were screaming.

That was when the other thugs charged the bar in force, instigating a brawl with the regulars in the process. One of them, a tall Zabrak, had even taken hold of the pretty boy's apparently forgotten Mirialan friend as she tried to escape and made to drag her from the bar, directly toward Renci.

Renci was losing patience, this had gotten out of hand fast and the violence had only made her blood boil hotter. Maker, she needed to hit something. She strode over to the Zabrak and the Mirialan, spun the man around by one of his horns, and drove her armored fist into his mouth, knocking him flat on his back, sans a few teeth. Disgraceful.

Renci spun on her heels to address Darulon. "I'll take Asan, you secure that booth over by the wall, find out if they know about our competition." The young Aqualish blinked his four eyes at her, stole a quick glance sideways at the brawl, and nodded, taking off in the direction of the corner booth. With that settled, Renci made a beeline for the private section. I'm coming for you Asan...

[member="Nej Tane"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Davik Tren"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

Why - no matter what he did - did violence always find him? Actually, Kairon thought, that was unfair. Upon returning to the family business he'd successfully avoided violence for years. He knew, deep down, that it just hadn't been right for him. Or perhaps the reverse. He could never pick up the life that had been robbed from the innocent child he had once been. He had known it, his family had known it. They way they had looked at him, they had known he had come back...wrong. The only reason he had taken the path of a smuggler, instead of something darker, was because of the guilt he felt for stealing away his brother's eldest son. He saw the innocence in the hopelessly foppish and naive young adult. Asmus thought the stories of pirating were glorious, about bravery and action. Kairon hoped the youth would never experience what it was really like when pirates took the crew of a ship. A group of smugglers with no haulage company to be ransomed to had no monetary value, if they were ever taken by pirates they would provide amusement for their captors. The airlock would be a blessed relief.

Kairon couldn't see what was happening, but he heard the commotion start. Asan's guard's eyes were no long on him, so he slipped his hands under the table. The gentlest tap shattered his long glass, leaving him with a long shard.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

What the frak? Suddenly, the bar went from it's usual rowdy self to... rowdier. One of the new guys in the Alliance had come in wearing a swanky suit, which Corvetta had thought was rather contrary to the whole smuggler look. But to each his own, and apparently, to each his own angry midget. Both of the brawlers were yelling incomprehensible things, and the Lost Cause pilot burst out in laughter at the comical scene. Things always got entertaining when people had surpassed their limit.

Then another fighter--this time, some butch woman--entered the fray and grabbed the zabrak by the horns. Corvetta winced as the new combatant made a direct hit with the zabrak's face. This was the best part about Corellian bars: free entertainment. But Corvetta always preferred things from a distance, and that Aqualish coming towards their booth did not look friendly. Though, now that the spacer chick thought about it, none of them ever did look friendly. Was that racist?

"Uh-oh. Koko; Tricky..." She nudged Drenn and nervously alternated her glance from Tren to the bug-eyed alien. "I hope he just wants to talk..." she muttered, hand still on a shot glass. Maybe now was not the best time to down another...

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Nej Tane"]

 

[Darulon Toga]

Darulon made sure to steer clear of the ensuing brawl as he made his way over to the corner booth. He brushed his free hand over the grip of one of his twin blasters, safely holstered against his left hip, for reassurance. Things were getting hairy fast, and if Darulon wanted to impress Renci, he'd have to be ready for anything. His job was simple: Secure the booth, and watch Renci's back while she dealt with Asan and the interlopers. Man, they're gonna get it...

Upon closer inspection the booth's occupants seemed harmless, at least for the most part. One side of the booth was occupied by two women; a sick looking blonde sporting a somewhat faded red scarf; and a brunette, apparently attempting to drink the bar itself under the table. The other side's sole inhabitant was an athletic looking man. Colorful bunch...the guy could be trouble though...

But Darulon decided to play it cool, there were ladies present after all. He withdrew his right hand from his pocket and placed it on the table, vibro-knuckler shining dully in the bar's dim lighting. He made sure to keep his left hand resting on the grip of his blaster, to ensure cooperation if nothing else.

He leaned in to address the booth's occupants, taking an extra second to wink at the ladies. "Evening folks, have any of you heard of Asan Neet?"

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Robb Killian"] [member="Renci Selzen"] [member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Nej Tane"]