Boost Profiteering | The Underworld [Ask]

[Darth Defias]

A lone figure reclined on one of the expansive lounges, patiently awaiting his invitees to arrive. Wearing a simple civilian attire, dark in color and draped with a loose robe and a cowl over his Arkanian blinders, he blended seamlessly with the motley garb of space merchants who flocked to Nar Shaddaa from every corner of the galaxy.

His only company were his two security droids standing tall behind him and the array of drinks and tapas served on the tempered glass of the large round table before him. Beyond his own lounge, there were half a dozen more, all empty as expected. The speakeasy section of the Kessel Rum cantina was a neutral zone, designed for shady figures to conduct business discreetly and in the privacy provided by multiple anti-recording jammers placed subtly across the establishment.

Through various contacts in the criminal underworld, a lot of which had been information passed through word-of-mouth, he had assembled a list of names or aliases, each accompanied by their rumored skill set. The same list which would become the invitee list for today’s gathering.

His invitation had been simple and laconic: a discussion of mutual interests and a vague offer described only as "an opportunity for fortune." Signed, Brendo. If his invitees conducted their due diligence, as most criminals naturally would, they would find that he was an information broker with a mostly reliable reputation, but none of the notoriety of major players in the trade that could break information of galactic importance. A run-of-the-mill guy, by all means. Yet, those that dug deeper into the rumors, and of sharper perception, could find he often affiliated with the Black Sun; perhaps just a little more often than an independent infochant would.

TAGS: Draconis Cross | Roten | Tarjik Khen | A'ti | Ines Pen-Ar-Lan | Diana Fox | Parvati | Tyrant I | Arcadian OR Thayne Tameron OR Grisha | If I've missed anyone, lmk; if you can't make it also lmk!
OOC: Don't feel confined by a posting order, go nuts.

 

[Roten]

Nar Shaddaa
Tags: Darth Defias

"Feth off!"

Roten threw his fist into the face of a Rodian smuggler, sending him to the floor. There was a sneer in his tone, his pronounced canines clear as he gritted his teeth. A band of pirates stood behind him, equally as looming.

"Say ya got 'Sith artifact,' but ya ain't got jack to show for it?!" the Bursantian scoffed. "You're playin' a dangerous game, pal. Run home. Tell you're stupid boss the Specter ain't pleased. He'll know well what I mean."

And with that the Rodian nodded, turning and running off with a whimper. The patrons of the Blind Mynock, of course, paid the dirty dealing that had just gone sour no mind at all. That was a regular day in these parts. Roten sat back down, throwing back his carbonated water with a sigh. One, he hated carbonated water. It was all they seemed to have on this blasted moon. Two, he really had wanted to kill that guy. Roten couldn't help but imagine the fool running and screaming through the streets while he had the ultimate pleasure of hunting him down and sticking one of the sisters through his chest.

Alas, the Specter had other matters that they needed to attend to...

"an opportunity for fortune."

Just a block down at the Kessel Rum.

"Stupid feth'n name for a bar," Roten spat as he stood back up. "Come on, boys. Let's pay this Brendo fella a visit."


The sillouette of a lanky, though clearly toned alien appeared in the doorway of the Kessel Rum, followed by the vissage of his criminal associates. Four would follow him in, the rest left outside in case this 'opportunity' went by the wayside. The Bursantian's eyes glanced about the establishment, taking in the presence of jammers. Whatever this dude was offering, the location was legit. He took note of a private lounge in the speakeasy, a higher end booth clearly. Weird cloak, droid guards, funny mask...

That was their guy.

Roten gestured for his associates to take a seat at the bar, making his way up to the masked man.

"I'm here representing the Specter," the young Sith announced. "He has interest in... 'an opportunity for fortune.' Should you care to elaborate, anyways."

Of course, the whole damn thing could be a waste of time. They'd just have to wait and see.

 

[Ines Pen-Ar-Lan]

Profiteering
Meeting Brendo ( Darth Defias ) and Roten ​

Being new on the job could be a challenge for most, Agent Pen-Ar-Lan included. She had worked through the worst of it: Giving them a past, a personality, strengths and weaknesses - and then forging the paperwork or spreading the rumours to back it all up. The next step was one more suited to her tastes: To go out and inhabit the covers and give them some actual contacts and feats.

Currently, she had landed on the smuggler's moon as Mia (see bio) - a thief and a smuggler. The brunette's hair had been tied into a messy ponytail, but only strands could be seen - for underneath her tan leather jacket, was a slightly oversized hoodie - when the hood was worn, it covered many of her features to the casual observer. Deep green eyes scanned her surroundings as she moved towards the [iKessel Rum[/i]. The heels of her boots clicked against the metal floors at a brisk pace. On the upper levels of Coruscant or beautiful streets of Naboo, she might have stood out - but on Nar Shaddaa, she fit right in.

After having passed a whining Rodian by, the thief soon arrived at her destination. A band of pirates had made themselves comfortable by the entrance. Mia quickly brought her head low to avoid eye contact and crossed her arms over the jacket in a tight hug to make herself small. Usually, it was a decent way to avoid unwanted attention. Once inside, she looked back up and quickly studied the surroundings as she proceeded to make her way farther inside.

With the simple raising of a finger and pointed nod, she communicated her wish for a pint of tap beer to the barkeep. Continuing along the bar area, she made her way closer to the others, just in time to hear the alien introduce himself. Upon hearing the man speak of the Spectre, she shot him a quick yet scrutinising look before turning back to the bar to grab her drink.

The distinct clicks of her heels died down when she moved towards the booth in silence. First, she gave Brendo a thorough look over, then she slid past the pirate and sat down next to the imposing masked figure with one swift motion. After taking a big swig from her pint, she set it down with a deep thud and offered a low "Mia." Leaning back against the sofa, she seemed content to keep her words to a minimum for the time being.

 

[Parvati]

TAGS: Roten Ines Pen-Ar-Lan Darth Defias​

For the last two years, Parvati had sat, stowed away in a prison cell. Someone in her inner circle in her business had betrayed her, set her up, and got her arrested. The mistress never learned the true identity of the conspirator, but she knew no matter what, she would get her revenge on them. So for the last two years, not a day had gone by without her planning her course of action for after she was released. Her successful business, House of Parvati, had carried on with her most trusted advisor as the acting CEO. By the advice of the board, Parvati would have to take a more backseat approach to running the company after she was out, until things smoothed over. Or until she figured out which one of them was the snitch.

It was now an open secret that she was a crime lord, and even a former Vigo in the Black Sun before she was detained. This meant that she had a certain level of freedom in her actions now, but still had to be very careful about who she trusted. That's why, when she received the invitation from "Brendo", she immediately used her connections to see if he was someone she should invest time in. At the surface he seemed like a run of the mill criminal; someone who did whatever he could to stay afloat. That wasn't good enough for Parvati, however, so she had her network look a little deeper. That's when she discovered he had his own relationship with the Black Suns, something that piqued the woman's interest.

That's how the mistress found herself back on Nar Shaddaa for the first time in years. This was a section of the planet that she had never been too. The six foot tall woman found herself landing her personal craft in a nearby ship port, and dismounting with two of her person HSI-00 droids, she left three more onboard as backup. They weren't much for combat, but they were great protocol droids and very reliable. The droids were clad in flowing dresses, hiding the silver metal that made up their 'skin' and concealing the mini-blasters they had on their sides. One of the droids was holding a box in her hand, big enough to carry a present, or a bigger weapon. Parvati took up in the front, draped head to toe in black, from the jet black locks that framed her face to the leather pump boots that gave her already six foot frame even more height.

The clicks of her heels against the metal walkway she strutted down echoed against the cold walls of the dingy bars and clubs that lined the street. On her person was a small hold-out blaster and a short vibroblade. She didn't want to seem hostile when she arrived, but she also wasn't stupid. The mistress wouldn't be caught without protection when walking into a meeting with criminals. Parvati soon found herself at the entrance to the bar. She looked up at the lit sign above her, 'Kessel Rum' She chuckled quietly before she turned to the droids behind her, "Keep a look out. I'm assuming this place will be near impossible to get a signal out of, so if it comes down to it, we likely won't have any backup." Parvati then turned back toward the door, and walked forward so it would open for them.

Inside, the mistress found the usual makings of a bar filled with criminals. To the naked eye it would be hard to make out, but to a seasoned criminal, they would soon notice the devices tucked away innocuously into the décor on the walls. She was right in her assessment, if things went wrong, it would be very hard for her to get a signal out for a rescue. That meant she needed to make sure everything went right. Parvati wouldn't allow herself to fail again, even if it meant blasting every person in this bar. If it came to that, however, it would be after a proper greeting, it would be rude to kill someone before you knew who they were.

Using the information that her network had gathered, she was able to have a vague understanding of who Brendo was. With that insight she assessed that the man being spoken to by the alien would in fact, be the person responsible for the whole meetup. She timed her approach so to introduce herself without interrupting the purple creature speaking to Brendo, but was still able to make a first impression. "You must be the one responsible for our gathering." She motioned for the droid carrying the box to approach, leading her directly to the side of Parvarti. "I have something for you, as a thank you for your invitation." Her eyes narrowed, honing onto the man sitting below her gaze. The crime lord wanted to make him squirm a little bit, he knew she wasn't dumb enough to hide a blaster in a box to kill him. She knew that too, but it didn't mean she couldn't make him wonder. Parvati quickly opened the box, revealing not a weapon, but a bottle of Black Label. Her gaze lightened as she presented the gift. "You won't want to share this with everyone." The mistress finished with a playful wink as she turned her head to Roten and then back to Brendo. "My name is Parvati, and I appreciate your invitation to this little...soiree."

 

[Diana Fox]

Diana Fox sat in the corner of the Kessel Rum cantina, watching the comings and goings. Occasionally seeing the odd person slipping into the speakeasy, she slunk in the shadows nursing her Bespin Fizz. The fizz was all but gone, though the glass was still giving off the sweet-smelling steam that characterized the drink. She watched another person enter, her eyes narrowing slightly, then gestured toward the server. "I'll settle up," she said and placed a cigarette between her lips as she waited for the server to return.

A cigarette later and having left a small stack of credits on the table, the slim brunette stood and crossed to the entrance to the speakeasy. She flashed the invitation she had received and was ushered into the back room. She allowed her eyes to adjust and meandered to the bar. "Have you got namana liqueur?" she asked, taking another cigarette from her golden case as she leaned against the bar casually. "Prefer Esperell Reserve, if you've got it."

"'me see," the bartender said. He crouched behind the bar and a few moments later stood up. "Don't get much call for it."

"No," Diana said. "It's... something of an acquired taste, I think." The bartender peeled the foil off and began to work out the cork. "Over ice, if you would."

"You got it."

As the bartender set about making the drink Diana surveyed the room. "Here to see a Brendo," she told him after a long drag from the cigarette. "Point him out to me?" She took the drink and left a healthy gratuity in its place, very sneaky like, subtle, for his trouble. The bartender jutted his chin toward the door to a private lounge. "Thanks," Diana said, and with her drink she crossed to the door and let herself in.

Brendo, whoever that was, wasn't alone. There were a few people in this lounge, a couple droids, too. A table of food, the sight and smell of which reminded Diana that she hadn't eaten in several hours. She was hungry, and she hated being hungry. At any rate, the others in the room seemed to be chatting, so it wasn't the right time to interrupt, and instead she went to the table and started to select pickety bits onto a small plate.

Carefully balancing her plate and drink in one hand, she took a sample of the tapas from her plate. Diana wondered idly what she was eating. It might have been ewok for all she cared, but it was very well spiced, as far as she was concerned. After a moment of observation -- including a healthy dose of eavesdropping, she realized that introductions were being made. Perhaps not such a bad time to interject. She went over to the little klatch, settled in a free space.

After setting her drink and plate on a small side table, she gave the little gathering a once-over, eyes flicking over each of them. One had introduced herself as Mia, another had brought a drink as a host gift, presumably. Her eyes settled on a third, who she had heard identify as a representative of The Spectre, whatever that was. That left... the fourth.

"Brendo, I presume," she said pleasantly, her cockney accent shining through. "Fox," she added by way of introduction with a pleasantly expansive glance at the others, lifting her chin in greeting. A bit informal as for as how-d'you-dos but they were all underworld denizens, weren't they?

Darth Defias | Roten | Ines Pen-Ar-Lan | Parvati​

 

[Arcadian]

Tags: Darth Defias | Roten | Ines Pen-Ar-Lan | Parvati | Diana Fox | OPEN
Location: Kessel Rum Cantina, Nar Shadaa

Nar Shadaa was a world that made Arcadian's lungs burn. The air was thick. Heavied by dust and filth and grime. There were many worlds like this, but Nar Shadaa was a special kind of caustic. Even the filtered air that passed through his helmet felt uncomfortably wet. The Ubese wheezed a heavy sigh as his boots carried him through the winding streets that made the Hutt world feel like a neon labyrinth. Luckily for him, though, he knew the way. He would not get lost. The Kessel Rum was not far from him now, and inside, he would look for Brendo. The information broker. Data trader. Intelligence peddler. Wiser men then Cade would insist that time is the most valuable thing, but those men ironically undervalue the commodity of knowledge. Knowledge is everything.

"Move," the Ubese rasped to a diminutive Toydarian who was hovering under a pair of grotesque wings by the entrance to the Kessel Rum. The little creature backed away, but not clear from the door. It crossed its arms as if to protest Arcadian's gruffness. "Do not want to kill you," he said bitterly. "But I will. Move." He accompanied the words with a gentle pat of the hand on his holster. Toydarian wings fluttered with irritation, webbing flexing as the creature considered how much bite was behind Cade's bark. It only took a moment of silent contention for it to shake its head, grumbling, as it floated aside. The interior of the cantina was just as filthy as the outside, eliciting another heavy sigh from the bounty hunter. His lungs could feel the grime that caked the sandstone walls. It encroached upon his respirator, which sometimes struggled to fully purify the air.

The irony of dying to hypoxia before a rival hunter killed him brought a morbid smirk to the man's face, hidden beneath his helmet. All that the patrons could see was the signature visage of an Ubese, silent as the night, as he stepped toward the one who called himself Brendo - as had a small collection of other potential buyers, it seemed. Arcadian cocked his head to the side, standing a comfortable distance away from the broker. "Your 'opportunity for fortune' intrigues this one," Cade said, referring to himself. "I am called Arcadian. Wolf of Karazak. Blight of Boz Pity. Warden of Kirdo III. You are Brendo, the salesman of knowledge." A sharp hiss followed as he forced a lungful of Hutt air into his chest. He looked around the small gathering, realizing several prospectors had beaten him to the data mine. "A transaction would please this one, if you have not run dry."