Private Rumors Spreading

[Saul Whesai]

Location: Midnight Oasis

Saul had been getting into the swing of things on the planet of Nar Shadda. It had been an adjustment getting used to his new workplace but the bartender had been kind enough to show him the ropes of making drinks for the various customers. It was nice to know what drinks might be delicious to one species and poison for another. The extra money and the company of the rest of the staff wasn't a bad thing either. Still, he wondered how long he could still his roaming before he decided it was time to move on.

It was getting close to the last call when the main bartender Dusty tapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Saul but can you close up tonight? Some of my old merc friends are meeting up and I wanted to join them" Saul hesitated before peer pressure made him say "Sure Dusty, I hope you have a good time." Closing itself wasn't bad as most of the customers who still had their senses knew the bar's owner and by extension, his staff weren't to be messed with and those who weren't could be pushed out the door easily enough. Still, even metal men can get sleepily and Saul was looking forward to getting to his bed. He waved back to his Drink Master as the older man left the bar, he hoped the the status quo would be the same tonight.

Itzhal Volkihar

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

From the edge of the street, the Midnight Oasis blended seamlessly into the grimy exterior of the surrounding buildings, hidden beneath a kaleidoscope of pulsating neon lights and vibrant flickering advertisements that bloomed from every open space in an assault upon the senses. As hissing gasses from nearby pipes and machinery leaked into the air, shrouding everything in a dream-like haze that almost made up for the smell of spice and crowded masses. Only the faint glow of light from the doorway leading inside served to beckon the passerby, promising an escape from the electric barrage outside.

Stepping through the doorway, the Mandalorian emerged like a spectre, cloaked entirely in the firm embrace of Beskar that gleamed in shades of black and crimson under the dim light of the bar. His dull boots barely whispered against the cold floor, shrouded by the thrumming chaos of the outside world—carefree laughter, roaring voices and hectic brawls disappeared with the hiss of the door sealing shut.

Leaving the stranger amongst the midst of patrons, his steps louder in the silence that followed.

Click.

Around him, drinkers paused, holding still as if their movement would attract his attention.

Clack.

Another drank all the quicker, eager to finish their drink or just intent on one final drink if their luck turned sour.

Click.

With one final, deliberate step, he arrived at the polished metal bar. The slow, measured turn of his head was emphasised by the noticeable shift of his helmet, panning across the bar as it gleamed under the dim bar lights. Closer now, the infamous T-shaped visor obscured the intensity of his honed gaze as it moved from subject to subject until eventually, with a stiff conclusion, he came to a halt, "Saul Whesai?"

Tag: Saul Whesai​

 

[Saul Whesai]

The android's ears perked up as he heard the clanking metal steps of someone coming down the stair. Everyone knew what that sound meant, trouble. The Mandos didn't have a good repution and it was a coin toss whether you got one that would just take you in if you surrendered or would just tear you apart to save themselves the trouble. The armored warrior's boogeyman wasn't very good for buiness either. Given his own "difficult" history with one of their kind, he didn't blame the patrons for becoming uneasy at one showing up here. The only thing Saul could hope for is that his stay would be short.

Deathgripping the shotgun magincally locked to the bottom of the bar, Saul narrowed his eyes as the black and crimson warrior called him out by name. Ready to pull the shotgun from his resting place and to his shoulder, he said his words in a low passive aggressive tone that told the Mando he would atleast attempt to shoot his head off if this interaction went south. "Depends who's asking and what they want..." Here is to hoping this man wasn't a demon coming from the android's bloody past to haunt him.

Itzhal Volkihar

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

"Itzhal Volkihar. I heard you're a decent starship mechanic. I also heard you're not an idiot," answered the Mandalorian as he lifted both hands away from his hips and the holsters that lingered there, a promise of violence withheld for the moment. In truth, he knew he could draw quicker than most sentients could blink. Sometimes, the gesture was more important than the silent truth. "The latter seems to be in short supply."

His helmet tilted to the side, Itzhal's focus centred on the android's uncertain posture and the weapon poorly concealed beneath the bar, which remained in a steel-like grip even as the Mandalorian continued his observation under the flickering lamp above. The dim light cast long shadows, accentuating the eerie luminescence of Saul's blue optics; their unnatural brightness a beacon in the murky atmosphere of the bar; shimmering like distant stars or a lighthouse in the mist, they caught the reflected glare from the Mandalorian's visor.

"Now, did I hear correctly, or should I be on my way?"

Tags: Saul Whesai​

 

[Saul Whesai]

So it was work the Mando wanted done then. Letting out a breath, he slowly took his hand off of his weapon and let his pulse slow down before answering. "I pretend to be decent at my profession of choice. As for the idiot part, there is always time to be that" Setting his hands on the table as the room slowly started to have some life again as the patrons calmed down around them, both of his neon blue eyes seemed to scan over his armor, trying to find any symbols or icons on it. The last thing he needed was to be servicing the ship of some bastard Neo-Crusader. Satisfied for the most part, he added, "Unless you want to give me the full specs and what you need to be repaired now, say the pad number and I'll meet you there in the morning say... 9? That agreeable to you...?"

Itzhal Volkihar

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

Itzhal watched in silence as Saul, his face pale and gaunt with deep furrows around the eye sockets, exhaled a shaky breath that trembled with the weight of the room's tension, escaping his throat like a faulty pressure valve. The bartender's fingers, ghostly white and unhealthily thin, hovered hesitantly over the concealed blaster as if reluctant to sever their bond with the reassuring safety it provided. In the seconds that passed, Itzhal remained quiet, a silent vigil waiting for the younger man's response, whether positive or not. His T-Visor showed nothing of his thoughts as the other finally began to speak, their hands peeling away from the comfort of their weapon and into view of the Mandalorian.

Eventually, the rest of the bar calmed as patrons began to speak to each other in whispers picked up only faintly by the sensors in Itzhal's helmet, and hands drifted away from their blasters. All of which was visible from the camera displays in his HuD, though he made no allusion to his awareness of the few customers that remained focused on his presence, their gazes pointed at his back like daggers. There was only one symbol to differentiate Itzhal's armour, otherwise painted only in shades of black and crimson, from his fellow Mandalorians: a stylized icon of a snarling wolf with fangs shaped like daggers in stark white.

With careful movements that accentuated his right hand reaching for his belt rather than the grip of his pistols, Itzhal unveiled the presence of a small holo-comm. It clacked sharply against the bar table as he pulled his hand away, back towards his hip. "The details are inside."

Then, with another look around the room, the Mandalorian turned and left with only a few credits on the table and a holo-comm to remember him by.

Tags: Saul Whesai​

 

[Saul Whesai]

Filing away the wolf symbol to look up later to see what he could find on the holonet, he waited till the Mando had left to let out a sigh and slide the credits and the holo-comm into the apron he was wearing. He could tell this Mando was going to be a handful. He seemed to have less of a sense of humor than Mavo did which knowing her was saying something. As long as the armored warrior stayed out of his way though, there wouldn't be a problem.

Saul waited till he closed the bar and no one was around to open up the holo-comm and read its details. Knowing the little bit he did about Mandolarian's, this wouldn't just be a simple patch job. Otherwise, they wouldn't need to find him to fix whatever mess the starship had been left in. All he hoped was that he wouldn't have to tell Itzhal that it would be cheaper to buy a new ship than fix up his rust bucket.

Itzhal Volkihar

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

The harsh streets of Nar Shadaa were as varied as they were dangerous; far from the neon nightmare of the entertainment districts, where credits spilt as frequently as blood on tacky street corners, Gorvax's Pit was a cramped array of docking bays located on the hundred and thirty-second floor of the infamous smuggler's moon. Chosen for what few security measures were available to those who needed to leave their vessel unattended, the main access route into the area was blocked by a sequence of security doors, accessible through a security key that changed as frequently as the patrons who used their service. The same security code that Itzhal had left on the details of his ship was valid only for an extra day.

Awaiting Saul as he checked on the chronometer, Itzhal leaned back into the comfort of his chosen chair, an old, rickety piece of metal that nonetheless had somehow worn the test of time, with dark scratches torn into the thick padding, which only seemed to add to the undeniable luxury the furniture had no right to possess. All of which was a rather handy benefit for the way it perfectly sat concealed by the firm bulk of a power converter situated on the other side of the hangar bay from his prized vessel, an IR-3F-class light frigate that lounged with pride despite the pockmarks that dotted across its hull from recent battles and centuries of repair work. None of that, though, had grounded the beautiful ship, which remained defiant despite the injuries that lurked beneath the surface due to a recent Bounty and their attempts to escape, not that it had done them much good in the end.

The aftermarket Hyperdrive had been damaged, ruined by a mixture of ion weaponry and a crash that turned boarding action, followed by shoddy workmanship from an engineer who had seen more potential in selling the ship than repairing it as initially agreed upon. The latter had been the reason for damage to the sublight engines and sensor tech, unfortunately for them, their credits would be going to repairs now rather than whatever salvage operation they'd intended.

Tags: Saul Whesai​

 

[Saul Whesai]

Carrying two giant spools of cable and with all the welding kit amongst the other gear he would need to get this job done in two duffle bags over his shoulders, Saul would walk up to the security doors right on time and set down the spools of cable to type in the security key. The android couldn't help but give a low whistle as he first saw the Light Frigate come into view. At first, he didn't know why the Mando had chose this ship to retrofit into his craft of choice. This was a lot of ship to handle, hell almost impossible for just one person to run and take care of. Maybe that's why Itzhal was outsourcing, he couldn't repair this ship all by himself and he didn't have the credits to have a proper shipyard yard look at his Lady's wounds. Well, he isn't out here to greet me so I best just get to work... Given the Mando's... posturing towards him and the rest of the bar last night, he didn't have the desire to speak to him. Thus being the only one here suited him fine. The faster he could get this job done the better and there was a lot of job to get done.

The first notice that Itzhal would have that the Android was here other than the entrance doors opening and shutting again was the sound of a plasma cutter against the ship's durasteel hull as Saul started to replace every piece of the damaged pieces of hull, welding on whatever patch material he had on hand. For the larger sections, he would have to order custom pieces but for now, it was a start. Stopping his work for a moment, he finished a music player out of one of his bags and set it up on a nearby work table, turning it on. In seconds, Gonk Rock was blaring from the player's speakers as Saul rocked out in his head, thinking he might have a good day working for this Mando after all.

Itzhal Volkihar