Private Looking For A Hitch

[Saul Whesai]

Location: Midnight Oasis Cantina, Nar Shaddaa

With his gear bag over his shoulder, Saul walked through the crowded streets, ensuring the people passing by kept their hands to themselves with long hard glances. One could never know what could happen on the Hutt moon, something Saul found terrifying and electrifying. He hoped this place would lead to a new start or at least a new job. Having narrowed down his options, he decided to knock on the door of a Midnight Oasis. The place was a magnet for fixers and pilots alike and he hoped to secure a job to keep him rolling or at least to get enough creds to last awhile while he figured out the next destination he wanted to jump to. Let's see about getting something low-risk, just for a change of pace.

Opening up the heavy metal door and waltzing inside, he pulled the hood over his eyes to hide the neon blue light shining from his cybernetic eyes. Some of the less savory clientele that resided here may decide he was worth chopping up for parts. He doubted it though, everyone seemed like they were in their own little world, either talking the news or job details between them or listening to the music from a past holorecording of whatever band the bar manager had decided to put on that day. Not that he would recognize the tune if he tried, his ears were better suited to hearing the hum of an engine rather than trying to remember a song. Sitting at the bar, he gestured at the bartender who looked like he had been through all of the galaxy's conflicts combined. That helped when on one of the rowdiest planets in the galaxy. "Takodana Quencher please."

Finley

 

[Finley]

Saul Whesai​

Finn sat in the back of the cantina, hidden in the shadows of a dimly lit corner. His presence was one of quiet mystery, an enigmatic figure surveying the bustling crowd. He had a few datapads spread out in front of him, filled with manifests and potential jobs. The Midnight Oasis wasn't just a refuge for him; it was his workplace and sanctuary.

As he observed the bustling activity, his beskar spurs clicked softly against the floor in rhythmic anticipation. His emerald eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned the patrons, assessing potential threats and opportunities. It was a skill he had perfected over the years—a necessary survival tactic in a galaxy where trust was a rare commodity.

Finn watched as a newcomer walked into the cantina with a gear bag slung over his shoulder. The man moved with a blend of caution and confidence, taking in the surroundings with quick, calculating glances. He pulled the hood over his eyes to conceal the neon blue glow of his cybernetic enhancements, wary of attracting unwanted attention.

The man approached the bar, his movements deliberate and purposeful. He gestured to the bartender, Dusty, who looked like he had seen more conflicts than most. Dusty was an old hand, used to dealing with the rowdy clientele that frequented the Midnight Oasis.

"Takodana Quencher, please," the man requested, his voice steady but edged with an undercurrent of weariness.

Dusty nodded, his experienced eyes narrowing as he took in the stranger. He poured the drink with practiced ease and handed it over, his gaze never leaving the newcomer.

"So," Dusty began, his tone casual but probing, "what brings you to the Midnight Oasis friend? Looking for work, or just passing through?"

Dusty leaned back, folding his arms as he assessed the newcomer. "This place attracts all kinds," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We've got fixers, pilots, mercs—you name it. If your looking for work... what kind of work are you looking for specifically?"

Finn continued to observe the interaction, his curiosity piqued by the newcomer's request.. The Midnight Oasis had a way of bringing interesting characters together, and Finn was always on the lookout for potential allies—or rivals.

Dusty would wait a for moments, in courtesy of waiting on Saul's response, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering as he fixed the newcomer with a knowing gaze. "Word of advice," he said, his tone serious. "Keep your head low and your wits about you. The Hutt moon isn't for the faint of heart. But if you've got the skills and the guts, you might just make it."

Finn's eyes never left the two figures at the bar, the air of mystery around him deepening as he continued to observe. The adventure was far from over, and he was ready to meet whatever lay ahead with the cunning and resourcefulness that had become his hallmark. This was where he thrived—in the shadows, amidst the chaos, always one step ahead.

 

[CT-2282 "Justice"]

N/A

 

[Saul Whesai]

Saul raised an eyebrow but answered the question honestly. Not like he had anyone better to talk to. "Depends on how long the gig lasts and what it is. I'm mostly an engineer... or a scavenger depending on who you talk to. I make metal things work so I usually work on starships for a paycheck and passage from world to world. Sometimes I take merc contracts too, just depends on what the job is. Then again, credits are credits so I'm not too choosey." He hadn't planned to stay on Nar Shadda for long but fate at ways of saying otherwise

The android's inquisitive face burst into snickering as he heard the older bartender's warning. "You can say that about the entire galaxy. The only difference here is if the swoop gangs don't kill you, the pollution will. I'm surprised we don't have to wear gas masks yet." It wasn't bad advice though and as his drink was finished off, he glanced around the room he noticed a man in all red staring at him like daggers as he tried to fake looking at a datapad. He didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the crowd. That man was scanning for something and if he knew of the android's past life, saying they would be in trouble would be an understatement. Still, he had his ways of making trouble go away and this situation called for something unconventional. He only hoped the bartender took his side.

"By the way..." He thumbed towards the man with green eyes in the corner who was trying to act like some kind of SIA agent. "You might want to throw that guy out... I mean, I get it. I have a big bubble butt and luscious lips that anyone would crave but he seems like he is undressing me with his eyes even now... What a creep..." Could it be someone wanting a job to be done, yes but missing out on one job was worth seeing someone stammer as they got pushed out of the bar. Besides, he had to have some entertainment now and then to make things a little more interesting.

Finley

 

[Finley]

Saul Whesai ​

Finn's eyes narrowed slightly as he caught the newcomer's glance and heard his words. The corner of his mouth curled into a sinister grin, and he took a long drag off his deathstik, the red glow of his glasses gleaming violently in the low light. He relished the tension, the thrill of being an enigma in a room full of strangers.

Dusty, ever the perceptive bartender, noticed the newcomer's discomfort and chuckled softly. "That guy?" he said, nodding towards Finn. "That's Finn. He's a bit of a legend around these parts... even so much that the people have given him a title, perhaps you've heard of it? The Crimson Fox."

Dusty leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Finn's not just some run of the mill smuggler or merc, He's the one who established the Midnight Oasis, turned it into a haven for folks like us. A thief for the people, you might say. He takes care of the lower slums, makes sure the people there have what they need. He's got a reputation for being ruthless when he needs to be, but fair. You'd be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn't respect him around here."

Finn continued to observe the interaction, his curiosity piqued by the newcomer's boldness. He appreciated someone with a bit of fire, someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind. It made things more interesting.

Dusty straightened up, a knowing smile on his face. "If you're looking for work, he's the guy you want to talk to. Just be ready for whatever comes your way. Finn doesn't like doing things halfway -- but rest assured, the man is the most trust worthy guy I've ever met in my life, hell... I owe 'em my life, saved it more than once."

With a subtle motion, Dusty gestured for Finn to come over. Finn took one last drag from his deathstik before extinguishing it and rising from his seat.

As he made his way to the bar, his presence commanded attention. Finn was a true man of class in a world of criminals, his attire perfectly tailored. He wore a sleek, dark crimson jacket that complemented his rugged yet refined appearance. His revolver, the Executioner, was holstered at his side—a weapon that had seen its share of action and earned its fearsome reputation.

The sound of his beskar spurs echoed through the cantina, each step measured and deliberate, the hypnotic ring making a cadence of its own. His emerald eyes, sharp and assessing, took in every detail of the scene from behind his red glasses which only reflected the light around him. He was the embodiment of mystery, intrigue and control... it was palpable, and he reveled in it.

He approached the newcomer, his expression a blend of amusement and curiosity. "Evening... friend. The name is Finley Whitlock, but most just call me Finn. Dusty here seems to be getting rather antiquated with you, best watch him, he'll end up talking your ear off if your not careful." Finn said, his voice smooth with a hint of snark. "Don't worry, the only person I undress ins't here, so rest easy my young friend." His subtle jab at the newcomer's remark earlier, he was sharp, observant, his grin almost arrogant.

Internally, Finn's thoughts drifted to Christine Dellard the love of his life. Her memory was a constant presence, a reminder of what he was fighting for even in the darkest of times.

Dusty watched the interaction with a knowing smile. "If you're looking for work, he's the guy you want to talk to. Just be ready for whatever comes your way. Finn doesn't do things halfway."


Finn's roguish grin widened, his mind racing with possibilities, his eye brow raising just slightly. "Looking for work? Maybe we should step into my office and have a chat then.... Mr., say, I don't believe I've caught your name yet..."

The adventure was far from over, and he was ready to meet whatever lay ahead with the cunning and resourcefulness that had become his hallmark. The galaxy was vast and unpredictable, but here, amidst the chaos and shadows, he found a strange sense of belonging. And with every new face, every new story, the adventure continued.

 

[Saul Whesai]

Saul could only raise an eyebrow as he wondered if what the bartender was trying to sell. He had worked with fixers on minor jobs before, but he could tell this one was going to be... a bit different. "A thief of the people huh..." He turned as he heard the clinking of metal against tile, seeing the fox had gotten out of his chair and was making his way over. As he introduced himself, Saul felt like gravity got heavier as Finn came closer, forcing him back into his seat. It was clear if he dealt with this man, he would be dealing with the devil.

The Android half smirked as he slowly recovered from the man's first impression. Atleast he had half a sense of humor on it. Saul would probably need it to look past the chill up his spine this man gave him. "Thats too bad... I was looking forward to being tempted with candy and then dragged into the white hovervan after leaving here." Taking the glass, that Dusty offered him, taking a sip and nodding in approve. "And if Dusty keeps making me drinks like this, he can talk my ear off all he wants."

Saul gave a playful sigh as Finn invited him to the back. He knew a recruiting pipeline when he saw one but it's not like he has anything else to do at the moment. The worse possibility that could happen is that Mr. Foxy didn't like an answer to a question and blow his brains out (at least he thought he still had an organic brain to blow out). The best possibility was he would get a job that was worth enough to keep him stable for a while. "Saul and sure. Let's see what's available today." Getting up from his stool, he waited for Finn to lead the way into his office. All the android could hope is that this meeting would end with the promise of credits in his pocket.

Finley

 

[Finley]

Saul Whesai ​

Finn observed Saul's wary reaction, noting the subtle smirk that played on the android's lips. As they moved towards the back, Finn's demeanor shifted from the casual charm to a more serious, tactical one.

As they sat down, he motioned his arm to the other side for Saul to sit. Moving his hand into his jacket, he pulled out another deathstik, and as he perched it between his lips to take a drag, a small ember would glow from the tip as the smoke would pull into his lungs and then, with a long and satisfied exhale, the smoke dancing around his body, he would grin, the light glinting off his glasses.

In the dimly lit corner booth, surrounded by manifestos and strategic layouts, Finn laid out the groundwork. "Short of it, Saul," he began, his tone a mix of humor and gravitas, "I've been waging a war on these smaller syndicates. They're the rats, and I plan on flushing them out to get to the real beast."

He leaned forward, eyes burning with both disgust and determination. "They are a plague on the streets. Widespread spice deals killing the poor folk, trapping them into debt slavery with no way out. As for the traffickers," he spat the word with visible ire, "they're preying on kids and young women. It's a vile business, makes my blood boil."

Finn's gaze locked onto Saul. "This is my territory," he stated firmly. "These people look to me to keep them safe, and I intend to do just that." He motioned to a map of the warehouse complex. "I've pinpointed a depository holding several groups' shipments. We'll hit them where it hurts."

He tapped on the map, highlighting key points. "Here's the plan. I need a wheelman—someone to help set thermite charges along the main supports while I handle the muscle. You, Saul, will clear out the warehouse, get the enslaved out. Once everyone's out and safe, I'll set the thermite charges and blow that place sky high -- where, you'll then proceed to pick me up at a set rendezvous point. This will effectively weaken their operations if not entirely cripple them, and send a clear message: their reign of terror ends here.."

Finn's stern expression softened slightly as he added with a hint of dry humor, "Don't worry, I'll leave the candy part to you."

He leaned back, letting the gravity of their mission sink in. "As for compensation, I'm not just asking you to risk your neck for nothing. You'll be handsomely rewarded—10,000 credits upfront, with another 10,000 upon completion. And," he added, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, "a piece of equipment that might just come in handy on your future endeavors. Let's just say it's a little thank you for joining the cause."

Finn's eyes gleamed with a mix of anticipation and seriousness, his hands lacing together and resting just at his chin. "I operate on a code, Saul. It may seem chaotic to others, but I don't tolerate what these syndicates do or stand for. This is my territory, and I protect it fiercely."

The weight of the mission hung in the air, but Finn's tactful seriousness was offset by a rare, almost playful glint. This was more than a job—it was a fight for justice, and Finn was determined to see it through, one syndicate at a time.

"So, Saul," Finn said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, "you in on giving these thugs a taste of their own medicine?"

 

[Saul Whesai]

What have I gotten into… was all Saul could think about as he looked around the Fox’s office. At least the plan looked to be thought out given the information on all these displays. At the mention of spice though, the Fox would see his face drop as his eyes translated a sadness only that a person affected by that spice trade would know. “I know a friend… a bounty hunter… that uses spice to help her with her day. I’ve had to help her pull her hair back at 4 am while she emptied her stomach into the toilet. It isn't not her only problem but it is a big one… So yeah, I’m in.” He didn’t know what Mavo would say about this but he hoped she would think he would do the right thing.

The android nodded along as his employer talked out his plan. It sounded decent enough but if those “low-level” thugs had military-grade weapons they didn’t know about, they would be in a lot of trouble. Not to mention they would put the slaves at risk if they got caught. Analyzing the map, he picked out a possible side entrance he could funnel everyone out of, commenting. “I’m sure we will case the outside before we go in but I can try to funnel everyone out this way as long as you make your distraction loud enough. I might need to borrow a scatter gun before we head out though.” If the android was going to shoot something, he might as well use something that could inflict the most damage on any speeder coming after them. "After that, we should be ready to go when you are."

Finley