Private Through the Cloak

[Vendra Vane]

LLANIC
- The Drain -

In one of Llanic's snaking seas was what appeared to be a massive, deep, circular pit surrounded by large flood walls called The Drain. Constructed within was the vertically descending was Purgatory--a shadowport of notoriety in the sector. Smugglers, pirates, slicers, information brokers, cut-throat politicians, corporate agents, spies, mercenaries, bounty hunters, and everything else in between could be found in this dense urban descent.

For the more desperate or adventurous (depending on who you asked), there was only one place to go for stories, drinks, or those too-good-to-be-true jobs: Hana's Hideway, something between a cantina and a guild hall. All patrons were expected to follow three simple rules.

1.) Fistfights only.
2.) No harassing the help.
3.) Don't ask why it's spelled "Hideway" and not "Hideaway."

That last one, in particular, has led to more than one smartass spacer getting tossed from a window or balcony.

The Hideway otherwise had all the usual features. Unpaid tabs, scorch marks, krayt oil solicitors, and starship fuel being passed off as liquor. Today, the place was a little more crowded than usual. Word started to spread around the sector of a job, an expedition of sorts that required a small crew and promised a whole lotta peggats as payment.

Vendra Vane, the expedition's backer, sat up top in a private booth sipping a jaraniz cocktail. Sitting next to her was a nervous weequay tapping his fingers on a metal lockbox.

"Shouldn't we down there, too?" He asked.

Ven held up her cocktail to the dim light above them. "When I finish my drink."

He gave her a quizzical look, that wordless plea for an explanation.

"Speculation and impatience, friend." She answered with another sip. When he didn't seem to buy her showman routine, she sighed. "They'll ask for more if we seem desperate."

That, he believed.

Aidoann | Willow Fletcher

 

[Aidoann]

Slowly making her way into the clusters of people, Aido gave one last hand sign over her shoulder before vanishing out of Captain Teague’s field of view.
The older Mandalorian mirrored the gesture.
Even though Aido was already gone, he did it instinctively, out of sheer habit.
He looked around for a few more seconds, pondering as to whether to have a closer look at the place before he eventually decided to seize the opportunity and catch a few hours of shuteye.

Their arrangement had been that the Kara’ad would remain six hours at the Drain, and if the insider tip she had gotten proved to be either fruitless or unobtainable the ship would leave - With or without the pilot, depending on what treasures of the underworld she was able to dig out for herself…

It was not unusual for either of the Kara’ade to temporarily leave the ship, accept assignments elsewhere and return to the rest of the gang later.
Right now most of them were spread out across Wild Space, with only Teague remaining aboard.
Peace and quiet… He thought to himself. And no one to criticise his skill level upon him practising the soccorian Lute…

___________________________________________________​

Upon setting foot into Hana’s Hideway, Aido immediately felt a little bit at home.
It reminded her of the little nooks the pirates residing in the Anomaly known as ‘The Carcass’ had carved out for themselves: Practical but personal… Almost like a home away from home… A home that got you into trouble if you did not watch your back, or misspelled/misrepresented and/or inquired about the name…
It was certainly something, but then again, Aido had met multiple cultures putting emphasis on things that appeared mundane to her, and vice versa, she was aware that many aruetii did not necessarily share her own values.
She did not question it; just tried to roll with it, hoping that her brain-to-mouth-filter would kick in if a whoopsie was about to happen…
In the meantime, she enjoyed the wild, unregulated chaos before her unfolding.
Drinking, gambling, two random strangers scoffing at her mere sight…
Just like her fondest youth memories…

She moved over to the bar area, deciding that the best way to sniff out whether and how much merit lay in rumours would be calm, laid back and discrete listening in to the surrounding conversations, and, oh well, if the stars happened to align in a way that warranted for her to have a drink, or two, (or five) to blend in, then who was she to argue with causality’s will?!...

Ordering a thick, creamy, bright magenta sort or cocktail(?) she could not name, but merely indicate her choice by pointing at a nearby patron’s drink, she casually took a seat on one of the stools, rotating a few degrees until her back was loosely resting at the bar and she had free view through most parts of the establishment.

“Whatcha painting at me, bucket head?!” A sudden voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
The voice belonged to the fellow patron who’s drink Aido had pointed out to the barkeep to make her own order.
The other one must have clearly misunderstood the signs here, and Aido held up her own drink, hoping it would clarify things.

“Gurpash blood mousse, yes I know, what’s that to do with me?” She added, clearly annoyed with the newcomer.

Seeing that the other had already emptied her mug, Aido leaned a little forward on her stool.
Smooth de-escalation was one of her fortés, or was it?!

“If you enjoyed it, we can share this one…” Aido spoke with a clearly noticeable, flirty undertone in her voice.
There was just something about bold strangers unafraid to confront an armed-to-the-teeth Mando… Something that tickled Aido’s inner fancy…

“Eugh…” The stranger responded, eyes rolling. “...Does this ever work with anything you pick up in cantinas?”

Aido shrugged, lifted her helmet a few centimetres and took a sip of her blood mouse.
“Eh… Sometimes.
That’s how I met some of my closest spouses…”
Except for Trayan, whom she suspected to have a fetish for humanoid species, and Karennah, of whom Aido was certain she was only in it for the battle scars…

“What a classy recruitment pool…”
The stranger simply responded with a hint of annoyed resignation in her voice, before she reached out, snatched Aido’s half-full mug of blood mousse and then vanished in one of the crowds of people.

This outrageous raggedy side chick stole her drink!
Now this was about to get personal…

With a little growl Aido rose from her chair, following the stranger’s route into the crowd.
She did not really look for trouble, but maybe, just maybe, a little bit of chaotic entertainment…
Yet instead of the misbehaved mousse-thief, what suddenly caught the merc’s attention was what looked like a secluded booth; almost like a VIP area…

On the surface she gave it just a fleeting glance, but already knew that she had found promising hunting grounds for gossip.

Deciding to ditch her drink and the mug-mugger, Aido positioned herself in the vicinity of the booth.
Far away enough to not appear like outright gawking, but still close enough to monitor any potential ‘visitors’ and or nearby conversations…