Star Wars: The Station - Character RP - ALWAYS OPEN (IC)

[Charlemagna]

Alba Joostal

“I think you probably need one...” The Lasat said flatly, though he now failed to hide his smile. “Or three!” He added. “Usual stuff or you feeling adventurous today, Alba?”

Alba smiled – or rather, grimaced. Awkwardly, she glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons, and hoped no one was still looking her way.

“You know me, Oleg,” she said, distractedly, turning back to the bar. “Always up for a bit of adventure!” Her eyes scanned the bar, her mind trying to settle on something that sounded vaguely adventurous. “How about a Fuzzy Tauntaun?” She paused. “And make that four.”

[Cheye]

The Hangars

Immils “Doc” Sudinia
“Silas,” came her response. Click, click, fire on the end of the tobacco, a minty little smell slowly enveloping her like the arms of an old friend. She took a little drag, looking up to the man. “I would. Continue.”

Silas Axin glanced around cautiously as the Codru-Ji took her drag and the minty aroma reached his nostrils, he then nodded to her compliantly, and raised a hand to thoughtfully stroke his dark chin.

“Where to begin with this one…. She’s a bright little thing, plans on bringing business back to Orondia. And while I know that’s obviously what any new owner of this place would try and do, Miss Sadaar actually seems to have connections who are able to help her do it. Got a ‘business partner’ who’ll be reimbursing us for the cost of the security upgrades, and who’ll no doubt be covering any other renovations or staff costs she wants to make.”

Silas paused, adjusting the sleeves of his uniform idly and watching carefully for the Doc’s reaction to that.

“If you like, I’d be happy to dig up just who’s bankrolling her? Although you know me, Doc. I don’t work for free...” He flashed his trademark grin at her once more.

The Cantina

"Of course. Once the ship is fixed up, probably a new engine and such." He says. "The ship currently has three blaster cannons and concussion missiles. Is that enough for a deterrent?"

“That sounds most effective.” Chief Udamos nodded to the human, his expression as stern as ever. “I think we can definitely make use of you, but our station mechanic has gone missing.” The Nautolan sighed. “Perhaps if you would help us to locate him, that might provide a worthy demonstration of your abilities and then he might be able to repair your ship. It is what they call a win-win scenario, is it not? We can discuss employing you if you are successful.”

Alba Joostal
“I think you probably need one...” The Lasat said flatly, though he now failed to hide his smile. “Or three!” He added. “Usual stuff or you feeling adventurous today, Alba?”

Alba smiled – or rather, grimaced. Awkwardly, she glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons, and hoped no one was still looking her way.

“You know me, Oleg,” she said, distractedly, turning back to the bar. “Always up for a bit of adventure!” Her eyes scanned the bar, her mind trying to settle on something that sounded vaguely adventurous. “How about a Fuzzy Tauntaun?” She paused. “And make that four.”

Oleg laughed at Alba’s order as Static rolled over to the bar and began flicking through the drinks behind it with his mechanical arms, looking for whatever the human couple in the booth had ordered.

As Oleg began making the first fuzzy tauntaun, the Lasat watched from the corner of his eye as the bronze-plated C1 settled on a half-empty bottle of Corellian Whiskey and grabbed two glasses with his second pincer, before wheeling back across the room. The droid could tend bar after all it seemed.

“Hey Alba.” The Lasat said, stifling another yawn. “Business is back. You think that you might actually have to start working instead of just drinking all day?” He chuckled to himself as the orange drink bubbled and foamed in the glass before he handed it to her. “Not that I’m complaining…”

Dak and Jes took their seats, and thanked the droid. The two of them were quite fond of droids, to be honest. Their astromech, Echo, was practically a member of the family. Just as they were settling in, a female tripped, scattering data disks across the floor. Music and sound effects began blaring. Jes said quietly to Dak,"I feel bad for anyone who goes on those tours. We can do it for free, as long as we have fuel." Dak nodded in response, and glanced at his wrist chrono. He said,"Blast, our contact should be here by now. I wonder if someone sold us out." Jes placed her hand on Dak's shoulder, and said,"Our contact probably had ship trouble or something. He's only ten minutes late." Dak nodded, and said,"I suppose that's a possibility. I hope he shows up soon."

As the astromech wheeled over and placed the glasses on the table, before using his pincers to unscrew the lid of the Corellian Whiskey bottle, a towering figure waddled through the doorway and cast his eyes over the steadily filling cantina.

As Static poured the drinks, and gestured with a beep and flick of his pincer for the couple to pay, the newcomer; an obese Crolute, wearing an ill fitting trenchcoat and scruffy shirt began making his way over to the booth.

Arriving, he glanced at the astromech and placed a large firm hand on the astromech’s ‘head’ and pushed it across the floor and off to the side, eliciting a furious string of beeps and static-laden whistles from the droid.

“You the Stones?” He asked in basic, towering over the booth. “I am Graneesh Drak, and you… You’re late.”

[Acerbez]

Yibilaez,
Aboard "The Canvas" personal transport shuttle,
En route to Nal Hutta.

The bright luminous cock pit was coated with pearl white coating which only served to reflect and bounce the ambiant light across its coverings. Atleast to the generic eye, it all appeared so. The ultraviolet retina's of Yibilaez had designed the interior of his own personal ship to his own liking. An ambient display and markings akin to what humans would call tribal design if only they could actually see it. A larger more ornate chair sat behind the pilot and Co pilot seating arrangement of the pit and afforded a centered view of the vessel's forward drive. The windows decently large and encompassing to peripheral angles.

The pilot and copilot seats were occupied by 2 humanoid men who silently flicked switches and surveyed the ships interface. Yibilaez wasnt the greatest pilot but he knew how to fly a ship. Despite this fact, he regarded himself far above the remedial task of such manual work given his previous station on Kamino; he was of the administrative caste and never sullied his hands with the toils of lesser beings. No, he was designed greater responsibility and afforded only the most important of tasks- atleast in the eye's of his people. The sky blue linear streaks of hyperspeed began to wane and allow gaps of black to invade their concentrated integrity as the ship slowed its pace and travel through space, arriving at a outward post of their actual destination. The planet Orondia became entirely visible as a beeping noise resounded within the cock pit.

The almond shaped eye's of Yibilaez blinked in the most reptilian manner as he shifted his elongated neck to the Co pilot who simply nodded before pressing down on the vessel's interface which activated a device to the left side of Yibilaez's seat. Granules of light pouring outwardly in a rather large fashion affording a quite decent 'definition' on the receivers end.

"Zhawhr Yibilaez Rahn Di'shu wvoff, fohbu lakae chahleeia... " The Kaminoan's seat had already begun shifting so that Yibilaez could meet the gaze of his hutti counterpart. The huttese dialogue blared through the holo-comm speakers that resounded the cutting of base at certain word endings. Raising his right hand, Yibilaez slowly motioned a downward gesture with his index and middle finger. A command to adjust the volume.

"Huueghhh, Ghazsu Rawq'gui hol'tou Di gku. Wi'nah gka kan fahn Nal Hutta puuduu". Galo the hutt stated. Yibilaez unmpressionable as a Kamino leaned slightly forward and placed his hands together with his fingers extended. Complimenting the Kaminoan's reptilian features, so too did his voice maintain an alien demeanor of pitch that coupled with his common speak. A slight but deep groaning hiss accompanied his long drawn words. Somewhat nontypical to other Kaminoan means of speaking common.

"As always... What should be a pleasureable interaction of contractual obligations being met, I'm yet again stalled by your efforts or lack their of, Galo. Understanding that my estate was negotiated and to be relinquished to me upon arrival was the outlining point of our deal. Issues on your end were to be managed by your party... Not hindering to mine." The silent armored men piloting the ship had not skipped any beats and continued to adjust the vessel's systems and flicked switches without pause.

"Ouahhh gkanya S'pwul, Heh Heh Heh Heh. Szili Republic bangko gua hunnn. Uhwo jzudah Oran-dia uyoh wut'na quiqui." The Hutt relayed in a nonchalant and grumbly manner.

Yibilaez's eyes were lazy and dull, winter grey and clearly not amused by the hutt's conversation.
"I've outlined the necessary arrangements and expected a much more punctual delivery on your obligations, having to outline them everytime is beginning to feel redundant. Hutti reputation seems to be just as questionable as any other middleman agency as of late. Shame on me for being a specialist, Galo." The monotone voice quickly scalding the hutt, clearly a slight to his ego.

"Huhnaah! Gkeelie rahn'ka gkulia. Wahnka yiqiz iraa!" the hutt retorted. "What is it, if not a livelihood? A means of putting food on the table?" Yibilaez slowly remarked back, sounding cinematically victimised with sarcastic undertones.

"Ahsi Nga Gkuaki M'ah leeia..."

"This is true?" one of the Kamino's brows had risen with curiosity. "That makes circumstances much more amicable, Galo. Where about can I find them?"

"Uhn lablia n'giszahh, Oron-dia sepul ngka uhfo gonkuhl. Hoh Hoh Hoh..." the hutt smiling sluggishly while visibly cramming a rather hearty looking stuff of questionable food into his mouth. Afterward, slurping of a beverage echoed in the cabin. One of the pilots perking up at the sounds being made only to shoot a subtle side eyed glance to the Co-pilot, then leaning back.

"Tss... And what about boun-"

"N'das pika kloh lu wuhn! Gkolia gkan buki."

"So be it... I don't expect to wait longer than it took me to arrive, Galo the hutt. I presume reminding you that anything lost can be found again... Except for time wasted." Yibilaez cut off the transmission and readjusted his seat back forward to face the front.

"Land here on Orondia, there's a package we must retrieve." Yibilaez sat with his elongated legs apart, his almond shaped eye's leering at the planet in front of them. An atmosphere of chilling calculation and order eminated throughout the entire ship. An airing god-complex or prideful hubris musking the Kaminoan.

By the stars, did Yibilaez disdain operating under another being's agenda. The luxury transport shuttle was beamed a docking Bay to land, the vessel only slightly shaking from entering orbit. Yibilaez had arrived on Orondia.

[Charlemagna]

Alba Joostal

“Hey Alba.” The Lasat said, stifling another yawn. “Business is back. You think that you might actually have to start working instead of just drinking all day?” He chuckled to himself as the orange drink bubbled and foamed in the glass before he handed it to her. “Not that I’m complaining…”

Alba rolled her eyes, and made a point of taking a long swig of her Fuzzy Tauntaun. She set it down a little harder than she meant to.

“Firstly,” she said. “I don’t think the two – drinking and working, that is – are mutually exclusive. Secondly, I have been working… to a degree.” She realised this sounded somewhat unconvincing so added; “It’s not my fault if this planet is distinctly lacking in tourist hotspots. I can’t sell daytrips to a rock, can I? Unless you know of something I don’t…?” She looked towards Oleg, trying not to look too hopeful. “Shame there’s not a spa or something… at least then, I’d have something to sell…” She glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons, and chuckled; “Reckon a fair few here could actually do with a day of blissful relaxation…”

[Derika]

"Was the mechanic last seen in the station?" Liehiry asks the Nautolan. "Or did he leave to go somewhere?"

[Pax Nerdvana]

The Hangars

Immils “Doc” Sudinia
“Silas,” came her response. Click, click, fire on the end of the tobacco, a minty little smell slowly enveloping her like the arms of an old friend. She took a little drag, looking up to the man. “I would. Continue.”

Silas Axin glanced around cautiously as the Codru-Ji took her drag and the minty aroma reached his nostrils, he then nodded to her compliantly, and raised a hand to thoughtfully stroke his dark chin.

“Where to begin with this one…. She’s a bright little thing, plans on bringing business back to Orondia. And while I know that’s obviously what any new owner of this place would try and do, Miss Sadaar actually seems to have connections who are able to help her do it. Got a ‘business partner’ who’ll be reimbursing us for the cost of the security upgrades, and who’ll no doubt be covering any other renovations or staff costs she wants to make.”

Silas paused, adjusting the sleeves of his uniform idly and watching carefully for the Doc’s reaction to that.

“If you like, I’d be happy to dig up just who’s bankrolling her? Although you know me, Doc. I don’t work for free...” He flashed his trademark grin at her once more.

The Cantina

"Of course. Once the ship is fixed up, probably a new engine and such." He says. "The ship currently has three blaster cannons and concussion missiles. Is that enough for a deterrent?"

“That sounds most effective.” Chief Udamos nodded to the human, his expression as stern as ever. “I think we can definitely make use of you, but our station mechanic has gone missing.” The Nautolan sighed. “Perhaps if you would help us to locate him, that might provide a worthy demonstration of your abilities and then he might be able to repair your ship. It is what they call a win-win scenario, is it not? We can discuss employing you if you are successful.”

Alba Joostal
“I think you probably need one...” The Lasat said flatly, though he now failed to hide his smile. “Or three!” He added. “Usual stuff or you feeling adventurous today, Alba?”

Alba smiled – or rather, grimaced. Awkwardly, she glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons, and hoped no one was still looking her way.

“You know me, Oleg,” she said, distractedly, turning back to the bar. “Always up for a bit of adventure!” Her eyes scanned the bar, her mind trying to settle on something that sounded vaguely adventurous. “How about a Fuzzy Tauntaun?” She paused. “And make that four.”

Oleg laughed at Alba’s order as Static rolled over to the bar and began flicking through the drinks behind it with his mechanical arms, looking for whatever the human couple in the booth had ordered.

As Oleg began making the first fuzzy tauntaun, the Lasat watched from the corner of his eye as the bronze-plated C1 settled on a half-empty bottle of Corellian Whiskey and grabbed two glasses with his second pincer, before wheeling back across the room. The droid could tend bar after all it seemed.

“Hey Alba.” The Lasat said, stifling another yawn. “Business is back. You think that you might actually have to start working instead of just drinking all day?” He chuckled to himself as the orange drink bubbled and foamed in the glass before he handed it to her. “Not that I’m complaining…”

Dak and Jes took their seats, and thanked the droid. The two of them were quite fond of droids, to be honest. Their astromech, Echo, was practically a member of the family. Just as they were settling in, a female tripped, scattering data disks across the floor. Music and sound effects began blaring. Jes said quietly to Dak,"I feel bad for anyone who goes on those tours. We can do it for free, as long as we have fuel." Dak nodded in response, and glanced at his wrist chrono. He said,"Blast, our contact should be here by now. I wonder if someone sold us out." Jes placed her hand on Dak's shoulder, and said,"Our contact probably had ship trouble or something. He's only ten minutes late." Dak nodded, and said,"I suppose that's a possibility. I hope he shows up soon."

As the astromech wheeled over and placed the glasses on the table, before using his pincers to unscrew the lid of the Corellian Whiskey bottle, a towering figure waddled through the doorway and cast his eyes over the steadily filling cantina.

As Static poured the drinks, and gestured with a beep and flick of his pincer for the couple to pay, the newcomer; an obese Crolute, wearing an ill fitting trenchcoat and scruffy shirt began making his way over to the booth.

Arriving, he glanced at the astromech and placed a large firm hand on the astromech’s ‘head’ and pushed it across the floor and off to the side, eliciting a furious string of beeps and static-laden whistles from the droid.

“You the Stones?” He asked in basic, towering over the booth. “I am Graneesh Drak, and you… You’re late.”

Dak Stone
Dak had been just about to pay the droid, when the droid was rudely shoved out of the way by a large alien. Dak, rather annoyed at the alien said,"Yeah, we're the Stones alright. We've been here for darn near ten minutes, waiting for you. Your cargo's down in the hangar. You can have it as soon as you pay us the twenty two hundred credits." Jes, who had had her hands in her lap and under the table, carefully moved her hand to her holstered blaster just in case. From where the alien was, he couldn't see her shifting her hand. The pair had been in similar situations before over the course of their long career, and from this, Jes knew the confrontation could likely get heated.

[Cheye]

The Cantina

Alba Joostal

Alba rolled her eyes, and made a point of taking a long swig of her Fuzzy Tauntaun. She set it down a little harder than she meant to.

“Firstly,” she said. “I don’t think the two – drinking and working, that is – are mutually exclusive. Secondly, I have been working… to a degree.” She realised this sounded somewhat unconvincing so added; “It’s not my fault if this planet is distinctly lacking in tourist hotspots. I can’t sell daytrips to a rock, can I? Unless you know of something I don’t…?” She looked towards Oleg, trying not to look too hopeful. “Shame there’s not a spa or something… at least then, I’d have something to sell…” She glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons, and chuckled; “Reckon a fair few here could actually do with a day of blissful relaxation…”

Oleg glanced at the other patrons, particularly eyeing the hulking Crolute, before yawning and pouring the rest of Alba’s remaining drinks, as he finished he stretched his long Lasat arms emphatically. “Yeah… I could just about go for an Ardennian shoulder massage right now.” He smiled nostalgically.

“You should speak to Nat, the new owner, about getting something like that set up. Seems like the kinda thing that would draw in business. Who knows, maybe she’ll go for it?” The Lasat shrugged, before gesturing for Alba to pay.

"Was the mechanic last seen in the station?" Liehiry asks the Nautolan. "Or did he leave to go somewhere?"

Across the bar, Udamos nodded to Liehiry; “His name is Kidern Karak. All we know is that he is somewhere here on Orondia. He took off from the station with just a speeder and a few supplies. He had quarters in Hangar Four, where his ship remains, if you wish to investigate I can give you access?”

The Chief looked Liehiry up and down a final time. “Yes. If you can find Kidern for us, we will happily offer you employment with Station Security and free repair of your of your ship. What do you say?”

Dak had been just about to pay the droid, when the droid was rudely shoved out of the way by a large alien. Dak, rather annoyed at the alien said,"Yeah, we're the Stones alright. We've been here for darn near ten minutes, waiting for you. Your cargo's down in the hangar. You can have it as soon as you pay us the twenty two hundred credits." Jes, who had had her hands in her lap and under the table, carefully moved her hand to her holstered blaster just in case. From where the alien was, he couldn't see her shifting her hand. The pair had been in similar situations before over the course of their long career, and from this, Jes knew the confrontation could likely get heated.

The towering Crolute loomed over the couple, a flabby arm reaching into the pocket of his trench coat.

Graneesh Drak eyed them both angrily, ready to draw.

And then in a single moment he withdrew a large pouch stuffed full of republic credits and threw it down on the table, his expression morphing from anger to joy. “Damn right!” Graneesh chuckled mirthfully; “Only messing with you.“

He continued laughing, letting it come to a stop with a sigh before he continued speaking; “You’re the most efficient freighter crew I’ve hired in weeks. The last lot skimmed some ore off the top so I had to have them…. Disintegrated… The one before that decided to run off and sell to some kriffing Pykes… Also disintegrated now. But you guys, no you guys are the real deal!” He chuckled again, clapping his meaty hands gleefully. “No disintegrations necessary.”

He took a step back and leaned against the corner edge of the booth by Jes to make himself look less intimidating. Static took advantage of the opening the massive alien shifting created and rolled back into the gap, beeping to Dak and gesturing with his pincer for payment for the drinks.

Graneesh Drak continued talking; “Sorry I made you wait, I had an important meeting with a rather big Hutt client, if you get the joke. Basically I couldn’t cut the call short to come down when I saw you landing.” The Crolute paused, eyeing Dak and Jes before carrying on chatting away; “To be honest I didn’t know whether you’d make it at all given Orondia Station’s been shut down these last few weeks. I’ve had to move a lot of my handovers to Jilrua, your shipment is the last to come through here in fact…”

Natalya Sadaar

“Too big.” Nat said to herself, flicking her fingers across the hologram of the three Gigoran musicians and making it switch to the next act.

“Too small.” She sighed. Although she liked the idea of a Patrolian swing band, she’d prefer a group her patrons could look at the stage and well… see. It wasn’t just about the music after all. She swiped again.

“Too weird.” She scoffed. It was hard to know where one Danzikan began and the other three, or was it six, ended? Much less how they each played their own musical instruments.

Nat groaned, this was taking too long and none of the holonet-recommended bands seemed to fit. She desperately wanted some entertainment to liven the place up, but it had to be on brand. She wasn’t content on just re-establishing a service station on Orondia. She wanted to create her own little world here, and having the right group play the cantina would be essential to it.

She flicked off the pad and scooted out of the bed, sliding into her boots as she did so. She knew there’d be a band out there somewhere that’d be right for the place. It was just a matter of finding them. She decided that the search could wait for now. Instead she would take the time to go and explore the rest of the station, and maybe see just how busy it was getting now that ships were returning.

As the Pantoran moved to go down the stairs to the central room of her apartment, she caught sight of a very fancy looking luxury shuttle descending towards the platforms, it slowed as it approached, revealing a shiny white hull, before it diverted into an assigned hangar bay. Silently, she wondered just who was travelling in such a vessel and whether or not she should be excited to potentially meet them as she made her way through the spartan apartment. At least she’d ordered a few art pieces and furniture items of her own now, if not much else. It was small progress for her first day here.

Or at least that was what she told herself as she strolled out of her room onto the station’s quiet upper concourse…

[Derika]

"Any job's a good job. I'm in. I'll need full access to his quarters and such to investigate." Liehiry says, as he leans back.

[Ormata]

Immils “Doc” Sudinia

“Where to begin with this one…. She’s a bright little thing, plans on bringing business back to Orondia. And while I know that’s obviously what any new owner of this place would try and do, Miss Sadaar actually seems to have connections who are able to help her do it. Got a ‘business partner’ who’ll be reimbursing us for the cost of the security upgrades, and who’ll no doubt be covering any other renovations or staff costs she wants to make.”

“If you like, I’d be happy to dig up just who’s bankrolling her? Although you know me, Doc. I don’t work for free...” He flashed his trademark grin at her once more.

Reimbursing them for the cost of security upgrades...well that wouldn’t do. Immils kept herself quite still as she thought things over, careful to keep her own cards hidden from the duplicitous individual before her, but still. It was an annoyance that she could seldom care to tolerate. If she had some sort of backer from the outside, well then that complicated things. It no longer was a certainty that, with the death of those individuals about her like Oleg, like doubtless the Security Chief, that with the loss of equipment and the necessity of repairs for that equipment, that Immils would be the only potential loaner for the new owner. That added another level of complexity to an equation that was, before, quite simple. Her previous plan was to eliminate her local support, to cause such damages to her equipment that in order to continue to operate she would have to take on debt and the like, and for Immils to be the one to loan those credits.

Now...now she had to force such an event to occur while also creating the illusion that Sadaar, that new owner, was unprofitable, a lost cause, or even worse was lacking in moral fibre. All that while also under the assumption that her business partner was not completely and wholly convinced of the new owner’s moral fibre, her strength of character, or her ability to generate profits. If it was a close friend or colleague, someone who could not be dissuaded of the ability or character of this new owner, then such a thing was a moot and lost cause. All she would do would be to raise suspicion, to raise questions that something was occurring behind the curtains, and invite investigation. Granted, such suspicion was expected, such investigation was expected, but her partner may bring in outside resources and information. A different method would need to be found.

Ideally, an infochant would be found, talked to, the accounts hacked and the money drained. Ideally, this would be done quietly and over the course of several months to where the subtractions were not actually known. Ideally, this would work. Of course, Immils didn’t work in ideal conditions, didn’t work in a sterile lab environment. She worked on Orondia and that was certainly a far cry from what she would like. A talented hacker was supremely hard to find and to pay for such a thing would necessitate losses Doc was not entirely convinced she could afford. It was a pinch. Sighing, she laced two hands together and took another drag on the cigarette.

“Keep me apprised of new developments.”

[Cheye]

The Cantina

"Any job's a good job. I'm in. I'll need full access to his quarters and such to investigate." Liehiry says, as he leans back.

“You will need to take the turbolift down a level and then you will find hangar bay four at the end of the lower concourse.”

Chief Udamos lowered his head, his head-tails bobbling as he did so, before tapping several buttons on his wrist-mounted control pad.

“I have just arranged for Security Officer Aveff to meet you there and unlock it for you.”

Udamos sighed.

“We would have already investigated ourselves, but we have been unable to spare the manpower or time. You are doing us, and all the residents of Orondia Station, a great service by accepting this job.” He nodded to dismiss Liehiry.

The Hangars

Sighing, she laced two hands together and took another drag on the cigarette.

“Keep me apprised of new developments.”

“Your wish is my command Doc.” Silas chuckled mischievously, his false smile not fading for a moment.

“In truth, I’d have been disappointed if you didn’t ask me to keep an eye on this one. She is quite… intriguing… in every sense of the word.”

The uniformed Security Officer gave the Codru-Ji a respectful nod and then spun elegantly on his heel to leave...

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Urchuln Vas got out of the pilots chair as he went towards the hold of his Sheathipede-class shuttle.

"R-4, take over the controls and prepare the landing gear. We've arrived." Urchuln's R4 unit, R4-86, beeped and rolled into position to interface with the controls and transmit the arrival to the station while Urchuln opened a secretive hatch near the back of the shuttle which opened to a Republic encrypted and locked safe, nigh-impervious to being opened by anything other than a high explosive which would of course shred the contents to bits or a lightsaber. Urchuln punched in the code and took out the contents. Three papers each emblazoned with the seal of the Galactic Republic and the Naval Intelligence organization. He had read them perhaps almost a hundred times since his initial briefing, he had practically memorized every word.

His assignment was simple, collect any intelligence relevant to the war effort or Republican war aims. He was eyes and ears in Hutt Space, and with his long range transmitter in his ship, was to send his findings back to Naval Intelligence. However this mission of course was very dangerous, in these parts spies were clubbed to death, shot, or worse. He could not afford to be captured, such was his thoughts as he tucked the pill into an apparatus on his arm. But there was but another thing to do to protect himself. Vas took out the other content of the safe, a small pouch of corrosive acid. It was time to destroy the orders before they arrived, if they were found Urchuln would find himself dead rather quickly. He poured the acid onto the papers as he watched it eat away at the papers until one by one nothing was left but a few charred bits. The ship began to sink as Vas felt the legs of the shuttle begin to sprout out, Vas grabbed his go-bag of tools and parts as well as his K-16 Bryar pistol and tucked his DC-17 hand blaster into his holster and prepared to land at the Orondia Station, in the middle of nowhere.

The legs of the shuttle hit the landing pad as steam shot out of the vents. The door opened and the ramp hit the floor, Vas's eyes had no trouble adjusting to the artificial light that illuminated the station and the other ships. "R-4, stay with the ship and lock it up, I got coms if anything goes wrong." R4 whistled skeptically and returned to the ship as the ramp retracted and the door shut. Vas approached the cantina, but before he entered he looked to the sky. "Let's hope this goes well."

With one flipper Vas opened the door and entered the Cantina. He approached the bar and sat. He asked the bartender. "Something soft, thanks." The mission had begun.

[Derika]

“You will need to take the turbolift down a level and then you will find hangar bay four at the end of the lower concourse.”

Chief Udamos lowered his head, his head-tails bobbling as he did so, before tapping several buttons on his wrist-mounted control pad.

“I have just arranged for Security Officer Aveff to meet you there and unlock it for you.”

Udamos sighed.

“We would have already investigated ourselves, but we have been unable to spare the manpower or time. You are doing us, and all the residents of Orondia Station, a great service by accepting this job.” He nodded to dismiss Liehiry.

Liehiry nodded and walked to the turbolift. When the turbolift took him down the level, he walked towards Hanger Bay Four.

[Cheye]

Natalya Sadaar

The turbolift doors hissed open.

Nat found herself face to face with a black haired male human sporting durasteel armour. She wasn’t sure who he was, but he walked into the turbolift in a way that conveyed a sense of quiet purpose, so she figured he was more than just another patron at the cantina.

She smiled politely and exited the turbolift as he keyed the button for the lower concourse. Interesting, she thought.

A trio of Rodians, a protocol droid and a hulking Anx, who had all assumedly come in off one of the docked freighters loitered on the main concourse, which was otherwise empty. Though she spotted Chief Udamos emerging from the cantina as she turned towards it herself.

“Chief.” She nodded to the Nautolan. “What’s with Captain Durasteel?”

“Ah yes, I have enlisted the help of a mercenary in tracking down our lost mechanic. He is going down to Karak’s hangar to investigate.”

“I see.” Nat said thoughtfully. “Let me know if there are any updates.”

“Certainly.” The Security Chief replied as solemnly as ever. “And, how are you settling in?”

“Well enough. I’ve unpacked now, and I’ve ordered a few comforts to make the place feel like home. Tried to find a band… but… well… no luck yet... My business partner has confirmed that reimbursement for the security upgrades should be with you promptly though, so there’s that.” The Pantoran smiled sincerely.

Udamos nodded; “You have my thanks.”

“No problem Chief. Just figured I’d spend the rest of today touring the station’s other facilities, meet anyone else important and then grab a drink.”

“Have you given any thought to what I told you about our arms dealing friend?” Udamos asked, his tone notably more quiet.

“I figured I’d just stick my head in the door and say ‘hi’ and hope she doesn’t try and shoot it off.” Nat replied honestly.

“There are worse ways to go.” Udamos responded stiffly, though Nat got the sense that that was the Nautolan’s idea of a joke.

“Right!” She smirked, though it was still the best plan she had; “Maybe I’ll grab that drink before going downstairs then…”

“I hope you enjoy it. And please, know that you have my assurances; my team will do our utmost to keep you safe. Whether you are on the concourse or down in the lower hangars. Nowhere is out of our reach on Orondia Station.”

“Consider me assured.” Nat smiled, though even she wasn’t sure to what degree she meant it, as she passed him by and entered the cantina.

Inside, the Lasat barman was chatting with a dark haired young human woman. A pile of what looked like info or bounty pucks lay atop the bar between them along with four foamy beverages.

Next to her, a Mon Calamari was taking a seat at the bar, though it wasn’t clear to Nat whether Oleg had served him yet or not. It looked as though the Lasat was still waiting on the human to pay for her drinks.

She eyed her droid at a corner booth, where he stood beside a large Crolute and a pair of seated humans, taking payment for some drinks himself. He was a good droid, she thought, learning fast.

The rest of the cantina was still pretty quiet, but a few aliens mingled about here and there. It’d just about do for the first day’s clientele, she thought. Hell it was better than the deserted dust-trap she had found waiting for her earlier, but a small part of her longed to see the place at full capacity, throbbing with energy, conversation and life.

The Mon Calamari asked the bartender. "Something soft, thanks."

She glanced back to the bar, noticing that Oleg’s attention remained focused on the human, rather than the waiting Mon Calamari, she decided to make herself useful and walked over. She’d worked in plenty of bars, clubs and casinos on Nar Shaddaa, although never actually as bar staff, she still had enough experience to figure she could give it a go. And here, on her own personal station, nobody was going to tell her off if she did something wrong...

Slipping behind the bar, and smiling to the Mon Calamari patron she let out; “Sorry about the wait... I'll just get that for you.” Before turning and looking for the soft drinks as quickly as she could manage.

The Hangars

Liehiry nodded and walked to the turbolift. When the turbolift took him down the level, he walked towards Hanger Bay Four.

At the entrance to hangar four, Aveff the towering Gigoran security guard, leant idly against the impressive hangar bay door.

His chin-mounted vocorder crackled to life as the human approached; “Are you the mercenary the Chief sent to investigate the mechanic’s quarters?”

“You’ll find everything just as he left it. We already looked once for any sign of foul-play but found nothing but a missing speeder bike. We have not had time to go through the mechanic’s personal items though. You may find something among them that reveals where he has gone.” The droid-like voice crackled through the explanation as beneath the vocodor, the GIgoran’s throat rumbled in his native tongue. “Good luck.” It added, as the giant security officer keyed a series of buttons on the control pad adjacent to the door and the entrance to the bay hissed open in front of Liehiry.

[Derika]

Liehiry nodded and walked into the hanger bay. "Impressive." Liehiry mumbled under his breath. He starts walking around the bay, scanning around the area.

[Pax Nerdvana]

The Cantina

Alba Joostal

Alba rolled her eyes, and made a point of taking a long swig of her Fuzzy Tauntaun. She set it down a little harder than she meant to.

“Firstly,” she said. “I don’t think the two – drinking and working, that is – are mutually exclusive. Secondly, I have been working… to a degree.” She realised this sounded somewhat unconvincing so added; “It’s not my fault if this planet is distinctly lacking in tourist hotspots. I can’t sell daytrips to a rock, can I? Unless you know of something I don’t…?” She looked towards Oleg, trying not to look too hopeful. “Shame there’s not a spa or something… at least then, I’d have something to sell…” She glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons, and chuckled; “Reckon a fair few here could actually do with a day of blissful relaxation…”

Oleg glanced at the other patrons, particularly eyeing the hulking Crolute, before yawning and pouring the rest of Alba’s remaining drinks, as he finished he stretched his long Lasat arms emphatically. “Yeah… I could just about go for an Ardennian shoulder massage right now.” He smiled nostalgically.

“You should speak to Nat, the new owner, about getting something like that set up. Seems like the kinda thing that would draw in business. Who knows, maybe she’ll go for it?” The Lasat shrugged, before gesturing for Alba to pay.

"Was the mechanic last seen in the station?" Liehiry asks the Nautolan. "Or did he leave to go somewhere?"

Across the bar, Udamos nodded to Liehiry; “His name is Kidern Karak. All we know is that he is somewhere here on Orondia. He took off from the station with just a speeder and a few supplies. He had quarters in Hangar Four, where his ship remains, if you wish to investigate I can give you access?”

The Chief looked Liehiry up and down a final time. “Yes. If you can find Kidern for us, we will happily offer you employment with Station Security and free repair of your of your ship. What do you say?”

Dak had been just about to pay the droid, when the droid was rudely shoved out of the way by a large alien. Dak, rather annoyed at the alien said,"Yeah, we're the Stones alright. We've been here for darn near ten minutes, waiting for you. Your cargo's down in the hangar. You can have it as soon as you pay us the twenty two hundred credits." Jes, who had had her hands in her lap and under the table, carefully moved her hand to her holstered blaster just in case. From where the alien was, he couldn't see her shifting her hand. The pair had been in similar situations before over the course of their long career, and from this, Jes knew the confrontation could likely get heated.

The towering Crolute loomed over the couple, a flabby arm reaching into the pocket of his trench coat.

Graneesh Drak eyed them both angrily, ready to draw.

And then in a single moment he withdrew a large pouch stuffed full of republic credits and threw it down on the table, his expression morphing from anger to joy. “Damn right!” Graneesh chuckled mirthfully; “Only messing with you.“

He continued laughing, letting it come to a stop with a sigh before he continued speaking; “You’re the most efficient freighter crew I’ve hired in weeks. The last lot skimmed some ore off the top so I had to have them…. Disintegrated… The one before that decided to run off and sell to some kriffing Pykes… Also disintegrated now. But you guys, no you guys are the real deal!” He chuckled again, clapping his meaty hands gleefully. “No disintegrations necessary.”

He took a step back and leaned against the corner edge of the booth by Jes to make himself look less intimidating. Static took advantage of the opening the massive alien shifting created and rolled back into the gap, beeping to Dak and gesturing with his pincer for payment for the drinks.

Graneesh Drak continued talking; “Sorry I made you wait, I had an important meeting with a rather big Hutt client, if you get the joke. Basically I couldn’t cut the call short to come down when I saw you landing.” The Crolute paused, eyeing Dak and Jes before carrying on chatting away; “To be honest I didn’t know whether you’d make it at all given Orondia Station’s been shut down these last few weeks. I’ve had to move a lot of my handovers to Jilrua, your shipment is the last to come through here in fact…”

Natalya Sadaar

“Too big.” Nat said to herself, flicking her fingers across the hologram of the three Gigoran musicians and making it switch to the next act.

“Too small.” She sighed. Although she liked the idea of a Patrolian swing band, she’d prefer a group her patrons could look at the stage and well… see. It wasn’t just about the music after all. She swiped again.

“Too weird.” She scoffed. It was hard to know where one Danzikan began and the other three, or was it six, ended? Much less how they each played their own musical instruments.

Nat groaned, this was taking too long and none of the holonet-recommended bands seemed to fit. She desperately wanted some entertainment to liven the place up, but it had to be on brand. She wasn’t content on just re-establishing a service station on Orondia. She wanted to create her own little world here, and having the right group play the cantina would be essential to it.

She flicked off the pad and scooted out of the bed, sliding into her boots as she did so. She knew there’d be a band out there somewhere that’d be right for the place. It was just a matter of finding them. She decided that the search could wait for now. Instead she would take the time to go and explore the rest of the station, and maybe see just how busy it was getting now that ships were returning.

As the Pantoran moved to go down the stairs to the central room of her apartment, she caught sight of a very fancy looking luxury shuttle descending towards the platforms, it slowed as it approached, revealing a shiny white hull, before it diverted into an assigned hangar bay. Silently, she wondered just who was travelling in such a vessel and whether or not she should be excited to potentially meet them as she made her way through the spartan apartment. At least she’d ordered a few art pieces and furniture items of her own now, if not much else. It was small progress for her first day here.

Or at least that was what she told herself as she strolled out of her room onto the station’s quiet upper concourse…

Dak Stone
Dak eyed the big alien, and said,"When we make a deal, we follow through with it to the best of our abilities. We'd be happy to haul another cargo for you at some point. You're cargo's down in the hangar. I'll send the order to have it unloaded now." He pulled a comlink out of his toolbelt, and spoke into it,"Jek, can you and your brother unload the cargo?" Jek said,"Yeah, it may be a while without any help though. We really should invest in a cargo handling droid." Dak said,"I agree, but that's a discussion for another time." With that, he holstered the comlink. Jes said,"We still need to pay the droid". She tossed some credits to the astromech for the drinks. Dak said,"Nice meeting you, Graneesh." Now, his mind was thinking about if they could pick up another cargo here. He hoped they could, because that would save fuel. He sipped his drink.

[Sarrin]

The Efanstar, Space, Near Orondia

The cruel laughter of a Kowakian Monkey Lizard echoed through the ship amidst the sounds of static, explosions and warning alarms. Jokir’s ship had barely survived the jump into hyperspace as it now drifted aimlessly in the vain hope no republic lackeys would find him in the great abyss.

Jokir shot a furious glance at the Monkey Lizard as he stood from his chair and brushed some dust off his dark maroon cape. As useful as Razius Feizir had been in his work, Kowakian Monkey Lizards were useless in a crisis.

“Boo!” Razius shrieked at the glance, focussing the cybernetically enhanced eye onto Jokir before bursting into laughter once more.

Jokir tried to block him out, checking his systems. Comms down. Hyperdrive broken. Fuel empty. He’d been in some sorry states but this was bad even for him. Still he had a few captives and a crate of death sticks so there was distance to make. He powered down the ship and walked to the ‘dormitories’. The jury-rigged force fields were still on and he’d left enough power in the second generator to keep them for a while. Inside the young human slept peacefully, or as peacefully as you can in a room full of a sedative gas. A smash hit the forcefield behind him and he turned to see the Twi’Lek dancer he’d ‘recovered’ on Ryloth awake. He scowled checking his wrist for the right key to trigger her shock collar, a wicked grin exposing itself in the squint of his eyes as he found it.

The Twi’Lek collapsed to the floor, sobbing as the shock crept through her. The shock ended as Razius charged in and climbed onto Jokir’s shoulder tapping the cybernetic eye as he got comfortable. Jokir triggered the image projector and saw what had stopped the monkey laughing. They were near a station, they could get parts, he could get more work.

“I only brought you to pay for fuel. Don’t push your luck and try to be a hero.” Jokir commanded at the Twi’Lek in his cybernetically generated voice before turning to look at his other captive for a moment. “You’re not him.”

Above Orondia Station

The Escape pod was cramped enough without Razius in it but Jokir knew well enough the monkey lizard would just break something. As it began drifting towards the station he tapped at the small console by his right hand directing it down towards the surface of Orondia and the station’s landing pads. He’d have to find a way back on the ship but that was tomorrow's problem...

[Charlemagna]

Alba Joostal

Oleg glanced at the other patrons, particularly eyeing the hulking Crolute, before yawning and pouring the rest of Alba’s remaining drinks, as he finished he stretched his long Lasat arms emphatically. “Yeah… I could just about go for an Ardennian shoulder massage right now.” He smiled nostalgically.

“You should speak to Nat, the new owner, about getting something like that set up. Seems like the kinda thing that would draw in business. Who knows, maybe she’ll go for it?” The Lasat shrugged, before gesturing for Alba to pay.

“Huh,” Alba mused. “Maybe I should...”

She took a long – very long – sip of one of her drinks (she’d lost count which of the four she was on). She was imagining heavenly comfort, relaxation, calm and serenity. In the back of her mind, she could hear gentle, soothing music. She glanced once more around the rest of the dim, grim cantina, and wondered how many others would yearn for a similar change of scenery.

Exactly how one went about setting up a spa was utterly beyond her, but she knew it would be bright and airy… and leafy. Yes. There would be trees and waterfalls and…

“A spa…” Alba uttered, all the while her brain clicking and whirring and expanding on the idea.

She drummed her fingers on the bar, and accidentally knocked one of her glasses. The sound startled her as she hastily steadied it, and glancing to her left, she finally noticed the Mon Calamari who was sitting next to her, and almost jumped out of her skin all over again. A blue-skinned woman had also joined Oleg behind the bar, and Alba was forced to question exactly how she’d missed that. She made a mental note that she should really work on her observation skills.

Her eyes snapped back to the bar, where Oleg was looking at her expectantly. For a moment, Alba was confused at how he could expect her to know what to do on the spot, and then she realised the expectation was for the money she owed him for the drinks.

Maybe those Fuzzy Tauntauns had gone to her head more than she thought.

“Oleg,” she declared, rising to her feet. “Put the drinks on my Tab. I’m going to get to work... this miserable place needs cheering up!”

Then she paused, considering Oleg's words; “The owner of this place…what was her name, Nat? If I was - if, mind - to design and set up a kind of spa thing… how exactly would I set up a meeting?”

[Cheye]

The Cantina

Dak eyed the big alien, and said,"When we make a deal, we follow through with it to the best of our abilities. We'd be happy to haul another cargo for you at some point. You're cargo's down in the hangar. I'll send the order to have it unloaded now." He pulled a comlink out of his toolbelt, and spoke into it,"Jek, can you and your brother unload the cargo?" Jek said,"Yeah, it may be a while without any help though. We really should invest in a cargo handling droid." Dak said,"I agree, but that's a discussion for another time." With that, he holstered the comlink. Jes said,"We still need to pay the droid". She tossed some credits to the astromech for the drinks. Dak said,"Nice meeting you, Graneesh." Now, his mind was thinking about if they could pick up another cargo here. He hoped they could, because that would save fuel. He sipped his drink.

Static beeped cheerfully at the humans as he scooped up the credits and departed, heading for the bar to deposit the payment with Oleg.

Graneesh nodded respectfully to Dak as he finished speaking.

“Was good meeting you too Stones. I’ll go check on the cargo.” The giant Crolute nodded and turned to waddle away. “Enjoy your drinks and er.. may the force be with you... or whatever it is they say…” He muttered as he departed.

Across the cantina, another patron suddenly looked over to them. He was a quarren who had detached himself from the humans and Kubaz he had arrived with and had so far been leaning idly against the central stage.

Once the astromech and the hulking Crolute had departed, he slowly rose and glided across the dingy cantina towards their booth.

“Excuse the interruption.” The alien muttered, holding his drink in one hand as the other rose to thoughtfully stroke a tentacle. “Did I hear correctly that you are ‘the most efficient freighter crew that bulging ball of flesh has hired in weeks’?”

“Oleg,” she declared, rising to her feet. “Put the drinks on my Tab. I’m going to get to work... this miserable place needs cheering up!”

Then she paused, considering Oleg's words; “The owner of this place…what was her name, Nat? If I was - if, mind - to design and set up a kind of spa thing… how exactly would I set up a meeting?”

The Pantoran finished serving the Mon Calamari a Meiloorun Juice and waited until after she had taken payment for the soft drink to address the girl with the four foaming not-so-soft drinks and pile of info pucks.

“I’m sure Nat’s free right now, eh Oleg?” She said, playfully interrupting and slapping the Lasat on the arm as if she’d known him for far longer than she had.

“I’ll let her know you want to talk to her about err ‘cheering this miserable place up’!” She exclaimed matter-of-factly and raised her datapad, keying it dramatically for effect before pointing to an empty booth across from the bar, one down from where the human couple sat, conversing with the suspicious looking Quarren; “Why don’t you take that booth over there and Nat’ll be right along.” She smiled a warm, friendly smile, and even though her face wanted to turn it into a prankish smile, her self-control prevented her from giving the game away just yet.

Oleg said nothing, and merely turned to help Static process the sale of the Corellian’s drinks at the bar and update Alba’s tab while he was at it. He gave a big yawn and checked the chrono on the wall behind him. It was almost time for him to come off shift. Normally that'd mean closing the bar, but with business as lively as it was right now, he wasn't going to do that.

He scratched his head. He needed to check with Nat whether she wanted to keep the cantina open, but she was in the middle of a prank. Oleg had to admit, it was a far more refreshing style of ownership than the one he had previously been accustomed to.

He turned to the droid.

"If I slip off to rest, you're alright covering the bar, aren't you? Now I've shown you how to process sales, I don't see a problem with a droid tending bar! You can tell Nat we hit closing time, but I wanted to leave it up to her to decide whether to shut things down given how many punters we have in at the moment... Tell her she'll have a hard time knowing when to pack in herself on a planet with no natural day-night cycle. All I know is that my shift is up." The Lasat chuckled. It had been an easy day for him, given the first half of it the place had still been empty.

Still, they were back in business now, which meant he needed a nice long rest...

Station Entrance

The Escape pod was cramped enough without Razius in it but Jokir knew well enough the monkey lizard would just break something. As it began drifting towards the station he tapped at the small console by his right hand directing it down towards the surface of Orondia and the station’s landing pads. He’d have to find a way back on the ship but that was tomorrow's problem...

Chief Udamos stood at the large metal doors that led from the main concourse out onto the station’s main docking platform and landing pads, watching them rise and listening to the familiar hum of the pistons that raised them.

If the reports from station control were correct, and they were always correct, then an unidentified escape pod had just landed on one of the outer pads.

Escape pods usually spelt trouble, if not for the poor souls on board, forced to evacuate a crashing starship, then for the people who rescued them when they turned out not to be poor souls at all, but rather pirates looking to take advantage of anyone honourable enough to investigate a distress beacon. Udamos had known more than one former-colleague who had wound up meeting that inglorious fate.

The nautolan shifted as starlight bathed the entrance way, then he keyed his wrist-pad again.

“Silas, do you copy?” He spoke into it.

Nothing.

As good a security officer as he was, Silas Axin had a habit of being conspicuously absent whenever control reported anything abnormal to security.

“Aveff?”

“I am still at Kidern’s hanger. The mercenary is investigating inside.” The Gigoran’s robotic voice-box stated back.

Udamos sighed.

“...Grish?”

The Gamorrean grunted after a few seconds, and after a few more, both he and his brother Grak rounded the outer walkway from the direction of the other landing pads. At least, Udamos had always assumed they were brothers, it was hard to tell really, given the Gamorreans struggled to hold even the most basic of conversations.

“Let’s go.” Udamos instructed, the Gamorreans grunting away as they fell into a flanking position behind him, their force-pikes raised for potential combat, rather than slouched over their shoulders, just like Udamos had taught them. He knew they still didn’t hold them that way when he wasn’t around, but he had bigger worries.

They rounded the wide outer walkway towards the pad where the escape pod had reportedly touched down, wind blew at his head-tails, and he placed a hand on the handle of his blaster pistol cautiously as the trio drew in towards the pod.

“This is Chief Udamos of Orondia Station Security.” He readied himself for potential action as he spoke, his voice was as solemn and stern as ever; “Please stow any weapons you may have and emerge from the pod with your hands up! I assure you this is a most welcoming port, and you will not be harmed! Any acts of violence towards the station will be put down most severely!"

[Derika]

Aside from the piles of scrap and disassembled droid parts, the mechanic kept a clean hangar. His personal ship, a G9 Rigger, was old but certainly in good condition and rested lifelessly in the centre of the bay.

Off to one side, a large cloth had been hung on a line from the wall to a small column, creating a makeshift curtain that separated a corner of the hangar bay off for the mechanic’s living quarters. They were crude; a large bed, an electrostove and some repurposed storage crates and workbenches.

The glint of something shiny stuck out from down the side of one of the crates, and upon closer inspection it appeared to be a datapad. It was stuck at such an angle that the security team could easily have missed it, if all they had done was peek through the curtain at the edge of the living space.

Once Liehiry had fished it out, he keyed it on and was pleased to find it wasn’t password protected. He began to read from the most recent entry:

Fuel’s still out, which means there’s only so much I can do around here, and there’ll be even less once the last few freighters leave. Stupid Bith wants to go and negotiate with the Hutts to get the fuel line back. Least Udamos has been trying to talk some sense into him.

Doc’s been pretty quiet about the whole thing. Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. I don’t mind my neighbour, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve never liked her Trandoshans. Those things are killers and I don’t see what business they have here… Especially now its gone quiet.

If trouble is coming, I think it might do me good to make myself scarce for a bit. Been wanting to investigate the rumours about that crashed warship for a while now, and Oleg confirmed that one of his patrons had spotted debris as close as Gruunda Canyon. That’s only a couple rotations away by speeder, and it’s been years since I last got out on that old CK-6 I fixed up.

Reckon I’ll head off tomorrow and see what I can salvage, if it is a Seperatist Ship, who knows? There might be droids for the reprogramming. I’m going to take enough supplies so I can camp out at Gruunda Canyon for however long it takes to get done, and take some load-lifters to bring all the salvage back. Won’t say nothing to nobody in case they try and stop me, or worse snake the score. I’m leaving this datapad though, just in case Udamos wants to know where I’ve gone.

Liehiry walks back out and turns toward the guard.

"Hey, read this." Liehiry says handing the pad over to him

[Sarrin]

“This is Chief Udamos of Orondia Station Security.” He readied himself for potential action as he spoke, his voice was as solemn and stern as ever; “Please stow any weapons you may have and emerge from the pod with your hands up! I assure you this is a most welcoming port, and you will not be harmed! Any acts of violence towards the station will be put down most severely!"

The words were muffled as they entered the escape pod its doors opening as Jokir processed what he was being told to do. Calmly the anomid stepped out from the pod pushing out Razius with a slight kick as he stepped forward.

“You sell ship parts here?” He asked pretending not to notice the chief’s hand on his blaster pistol.

[Charlemagna]

Alba Joostal

“Why don’t you take that booth over there and Nat’ll be right along.” The Pantoran smiled a warm, friendly smile.

“Oh... right...” Alba said in a small voice, somewhat taken aback. She hadn’t exactly expected things to progress this quickly. She wasn’t sure she was actually in the best state to conduct business right now. But then again, perhaps she wouldn’t have had the confidence (or inhibitions, or sense!) to go along with it if she wasn’t several fuzzy tauntauns along. And this place did really need some sort of leisure facility. “That would be fantastic,” she added, her enthusiasm mostly genuine. “I’ll just, erm, take a seat, then...”

She nodded politely to both Oleg and his Pantoran assistant (who must, she considered, have been a recent hire) and stood up from the bar. A few stray infopucks still on the bar were hastily shoved into her pockets, and she grabbed her final fuzzy tauntaun before making her way to the booth. Suddenly self-conscious, she tried to flatten what she imagined to be unruly curls, and wondered whether she should have delayed in order to dress up a bit and look presentable. If this was to be an important business meeting.

It was too late for that now. Alba sat back in the booth, took a deep breath, and tried to look professional.

[Cheye]

The Hangars

Liehiry walks back out and turns toward the guard.

"Hey, read this." Liehiry says handing the pad over to him

Officer Aveff squinted down at the datapad that was tiny compared to his giant furry hands. The Gigoran’s voice-box made a low idle beep that sounded like he was purring to himself thoughtfully, before his gaze shifted and he looked across at Liehiry.

“This is a good find.” The robotic device strapped to his chin finally spoke as the towering alien’s natural voice rumbled ineligible from beneath. “However, if Kidern Karak set out to find a seperatist warship on Orondia, he may be in some danger.”

The alien nodded as if confirming his own vocorder’s words to himself; “You should make haste to Gruunda Crater. It is not far from here.”

Outside

“You sell ship parts here?” He asked pretending not to notice the chief’s hand on his blaster pistol.

Chief Udamos eyed the Anomid and the Kowakian Monkey-Lizard carefully. They had emerged slowly enough, that was true, but the stranger kept his hands by his side, and seemed unfazed by both the Chief and the Gamorreans who flanked him.

Udamos could tell straight away that this man was dangerous.

He inhaled, calming himself. Dangerous the stranger may be, but he was not hostile, and Udamos was a man of his word, a man of honour, and he would make sure that this stranger saw the welcoming side of Orondia Station that he had promised. He removed his hand from his holster, clasping it behind his back with his other and nodding in deferential greeting to their new guest.

“Our station mechanic, Kidern Karak, used to have a selection of ship parts for sale...” Udamos paused, thoughtfully. His bulbous black eyes shifted to the escape pod resting on the landing pad. “You have a ship in trouble somewhere then?” He asked stoically.

The Cantina

She nodded politely to both Oleg and his Pantoran assistant (who must, she considered, have been a recent hire) and stood up from the bar. A few stray infopucks still on the bar were hastily shoved into her pockets, and she grabbed her final fuzzy tauntaun before making her way to the booth. Suddenly self-conscious, she tried to flatten what she imagined to be unruly curls, and wondered whether she should have delayed in order to dress up a bit and look presentable. If this was to be an important business meeting.

It was too late for that now. Alba sat back in the booth, took a deep breath, and tried to look professional.

Nat made the girl wait for a good few minutes. After Oleg departed and Static explained the Lasat was packing in for the night, she decided she and Static could manage the handful of customers they had currently.

The Mon Calamari she had served was still sat enjoying his drink at the bar, while the human couple the droid had been serving sat at the other end, talking with the shifty looking Quarren. Nat stroked her chin thoughtfully, musing on how weird it was that Quarren and the Mon Calamari shared a homeworld when the two alien species looked nothing alike.

A scattering of other customers were spread throughout the rest of the cantina. Nat made a sweep of the room, making a show of collecting a few glasses and cups and depositing them on the bar, before finally approaching the booth where the girl sat alone with her drink, trying her best to make herself look presentable as if she was meeting a proper businessperson.

“So, you want to talk to me?” Nat slumped into the seat opposite her suddenly. “Think my station sucks?” She injected a false venom into her tone and didn’t even look at the girl.

A faded poster above the table caught her eye instead. It was an old advertisement for the Banking Clan, from before their involvement with the Separatists had been exposed and they’d been nationalised by the Republic.

Before Alba could respond, she placed her feet up onto the table and crossed her legs, leaning back in the seat casually as she looked over the faded relic of the past. She knew the station would fall to a similar fate if she didn’t make a few changes, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun along the way too.

Finally her amber eyes locked on the girl's own and she stared at her, waiting for her to speak...

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Urchuln Vas finished his drink and gave the room a good look, the Quarren of course caught his eye. Being that they shared a home-world, but also the race's support for the CIS. Vas got a good feel for the station, a typical rough and tumble outer rim station in the middle of nowhere. Vas wondered why the Republic would send him out to such a remote corner of the galaxy, but you know, you could find the oddest things out here, you never knew what to expect.

As the owner of this fine facility scoured the bar, Urchuln leaned over and asked

"You know if there's any demand for ship repair around here? A fish's gotta eat you know?" Urchuln laughed at his own self-deprecating joke, as referring to Mon Cal as "fish" was widely viewed as derogatory.

[Derika]

"How far is the crater?" Liehiry asks.

[Sarrin]

The Hangars

Outside

“You sell ship parts here?” He asked pretending not to notice the chief’s hand on his blaster pistol.

Chief Udamos eyed the Anomid and the Kowakian Monkey-Lizard carefully. They had emerged slowly enough, that was true, but the stranger kept his hands by his side, and seemed unfazed by both the Chief and the Gamorreans who flanked him.

Udamos could tell straight away that this man was dangerous.

He inhaled, calming himself. Dangerous the stranger may be, but he was not hostile, and Udamos was a man of his word, a man of honour, and he would make sure that this stranger saw the welcoming side of Orondia Station that he had promised. He removed his hand from his holster, clasping it behind his back with his other and nodding in deferential greeting to their new guest.

“Our station mechanic, Kidern Karak, used to have a selection of ship parts for sale...” Udamos paused, thoughtfully. His bulbous black eyes shifted to the escape pod resting on the landing pad. “You have a ship in trouble somewhere then?” He asked stoically.

"PIG MEN WANT FIGHT HAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA" Razius exclaimed as the gentle tension in the air began to settle between Jokir and Udamos both uncertain of the others intentions but clear that it would end poorly.

Jokir gave the monkey a smack with his foot urging a grunt with a stop to the laughter before the moneky began crawling up his various pockets, gadgets and other kit to his shoulder.

"Just beyond the station, she'll hold until I get back. Anyone got a ship I can hire to take me back on board?" He reached into a container on his belt issuing a heightening of the tension before he removed several golden chips "I've got Canto Bight casino chips if this place is trying to avoid paperwork..."