[SWAW] A night out on the town [Kelb S1]

edited December 2013 in SWAW
So here you are again — spending "a night out on the town" as Jazz put it. You're on Nar Shaddaa — on business as always — standing in a dark alley outside an old strip club with your crew on notice about a block away. Jazz is with you — he's smoking a death stick, and watching your six.

"It's quiet," he calls to you, in his husky tenor, "you think Deet'll show?"

Why are you here Kelb? And for that matter, who's Deet?


  • edited October 2014
    I'm in my casual clothes, which is a pair of skin-tight slacks, dark blue with a white stripe up the middle, tucked into my cal-length synth-leather boots that are nice and shiny despite cycles of wear and tear, and an over-sized coat with lots of pockets over my beige v-neck shirt, which is really comfy. I've got my gun-belt on with my heavy blaster pistol, of course. Everything else I left with the crew. I feel practically naked.

    "He'll show." I answer Jazz. I'm glad he isn't pacing. I hate when he paces, it makes us look weak and scared. See, I know he isn't scared, he just has too much energy, that's all.

    I listen for a moment, trying to pick out sounds other than the thudding bass from the strip club. It's not a half bad show in there, they have some mighty fine Togruta females, and a . If Deet would show up about now, then we could get back in there and have some drinks. Stupid Aqualish. I hate tardiness.

    See, Deet, short for Gorothin Deetwin Vagger, is one of Pem's contacts. Well, was one of his buddies. Normally, this would be Pem's job, picking up this sweep and clear job Deet had on the shadownet, but seeing as how Pem pissed him off recently, and won't say how, I'm meeting with him.

    We need the work. Mr. Burr is still paying for his cybereye, Squall wants to pick up some off-market spikes for her gear, too. Running a team takes cred. So, we're picking up this side job. See?

    Where is that Aqualish anyways?
  • You aren't waiting much longer before Jazz taps your arm, and points you down his end of the alley. "Hey," he says, as he stomps out his death stick, "buddy's here."

    Rounding a corner is your friend Deet, with a rather dapper looking man who is extremely out of place for his current surroundings. Jazz is quietly eyeing them — were you expecting him to bring company?
  • Not really, no. I figured it would be a normal chat about price, details on the op and a little banter. Luckily he's Aqualish, so I wouldn't have to flirt or anything. The new man, I assume he's human or close enough? He might be the employer. Which is good and bad. He's either stupid, and auditioning a team for his pet project, or he's smart, made his decision already and likes getting his hands dirty. Or the third option is that he's got details and trust issues.

    None of the above are particularly great news.

    I straighten up, put on a professional smile. The dapper ones, they like it when their hired mercs smile. I have no idea why. It is actually quite moronic. "Hello there, Deet. Who's your friend?" There, Deet, give him a big ta-dah entrance like he wants.
  • The Aqualish seems a little buzzed, but his friend is in pristine condition. Deet speaks up in a slight slur as soon as you address him, "Kelb — my favorite mercenary! Excellent. Kelb, this here is my friend..."

    The human cuts him off, "business associate."

    Deet looks a little confused, but not insulted. "Uh, sure. Business associate. This here is my business associate Harlan Qorbin. Qorbin, this is Kelborn Vizsla — my go-to in all matters requiring a strong arm."

    Qorbin bows respectfully. What do you do?
  • I give him a head bow, a warrior's respect, even though he probably doesn't deserve it. I glance over to Jazz, making sure he follows suit. Once that's out of the way, hopefully the pomp and circumstance is done. I open up with a curt, "Greetings, Harlan Qorbin. My associate is called Jazz." I look over at him, turning my face enough so Harlan can't see me wink at my buddy. Playing to the civvies is a game we enjoy sometimes.

    Back to business, "Deet put out that you might need some employees for a freelance op. I've got a five being team that can take care of your problems. What do you need done?"
  • edited December 2013
    Qorbin nods to Jazz politely. He's a man in his mid-40's, tall and lanky, with some grey starting to show in his otherwise dark sideburns. His posture is proper, but submissive. "I represent a small group of businessmen who have acquired as contract to mine an asteroid field not too far from here. The contract, I assure you, is legitimate — but the thieves who are running the operation there currently are most assuredly not. I don't have any particular requirements for the state of the mining station after you evict our illegal tenants; but minimizing collateral damage would be appreciated."

    He looks at you eagerly, "We will cover your expenditures, travel, and whatever fees you find necessary. Is this something that sounds up your alley?"
  • He's offering fees without negotiation? Either he's really in it deep or he has no idea how much I'll charge. Or maybe he can't pay, but I'll trust Deet not to bring that to my doorstep. He knows better. "Alright, Harlan Qorbin. We'll need one cred up front to cover travel and set-up. Once we do the job, we will bill you for the rest."

    I offer him a handshake, asking, "Got a datapad with the location of the mine and any particulars, like layout, history on the place, anything else?"
  • Qorbin takes and shakes your hand without delay. Jazz shakes his head in disbelief, like he was just handed a blank cheque. Is he the kind of man to take advantage of someone's generosity like that?

    Qorbin releases your hand and returns to his business-like pose. "There is no datapad, merely a chit for you." He reaches into his pocket and produces the chit, and a credit stick. "The site is relatively new — a recently discovered spice deposit in the outer rim, worth a considerable sum. Shy of a single, stock, Corellian mining facility — the details of which will be on the data chit — there is not much else to know. They are simple thugs, Kelborn — thugs with delusions of property. I want them gone by any means necessary."
  • Is Jazz the kind of guy to take advantage of an easy mark? Yeah, he is. The way he tells it, a fool and his creds will soon be parted, so it may as well go to a good destination. Pem's rubbed off on him, I think.

    But Jazz isn't running the op, I am. I take the chit and the cred-stick, pocket them. I give him a confident nod, "We'll get it done, Mr. Qorbin. I'll let you know when you can return to the mine. Deet has my contact details, of course, in case you have questions or concerns."

    This guy, I don't wanna milk him. He might be a good customer. Gotta get Squall to research his company. If he's a one-time deal, we can bill him more later, and live with the possible collections issues. But right now, I've got a cred burning a hole in my pocket!

    Once Mr. Qorbin and Deet leave, I'll head out to the rest of the team, just up the block.
  • The pair leave shortly after the deal is made, and Qorbin seems pleased with your professionalism. You hear Burr's gravelly baritone hum over the comm. "Nice suit." You spot him up on the roof of the building across the street. He's got his blaster rifle out, in case of trouble. Did you ask him to watch your back?

    Jazz matches your pace back to the rendezvous, and grins wildly. "I'm thinking we need a tank for this job... Don't wanna take any unnecessary risks or nothing." You hear Burr climbing down the side of the building behind you. He'll be on you in a minute. Jazz continues, "only people out in the asteroids are prospectors, miners, and pirates. Pirates don't mine spice, Kelb... You think this guy's getting shafted by a former employee? Or do you smell hostile takeover?"
  • Of course I asked Mr. Burr to watch my back. I mean, Deet has beef with Pem. I didn't expect he'd be stupid enough to cross me, but I'm not in the business of taking unnecessary risks. So he was the angel on my shoulder.

    I huff a laugh at Jazz's suggestion of a tank. "Heh, yeah. That's exactly what I want, stuck in a can with the likes of this smelly crew? Nah. Speeder bikes maybe. A tank, no way."

    When Jazz starts spinning up ideas about what's driving the money, I listen in. He's thinking clear, "It could be either. The guy doesn't know what he's doing, so I don't think it's a hostile takeover. Unless he's the victim of it. Let's have Squall take a look, and we can ask around while Pem finds us passage to the Outer Rim." I pause, "You good with keeping working through, or did you wanna go back to that strip bar? I'm zeng either way, Jazz."
  • edited December 2013
    Jazz smiles at the mention of Speeder bikes, and nods along as he stares off into space. "Yeah... Speeders. I could get behind that!" You round the corner and approach a locked door on an old apartment building. Jazz knocks three times, and the door slides open, revealing Squall.

    "Kelb," she says with a nod, "tell me you've got good news!"

    Burr comes jogging up behind you and pats Jazz on the back. They follow you into the building. Pem is sitting on a couple of crates, smoking a death stick, and waiting patiently. He raises a hand in greeting, but doesn't get up. "Real smooth Kelb! You done me proud! But maybe next time we can cut out ol' Deet, and let me do the talking. Score a little more cred up front!"

    What do you do?
  • I grin at Squall, hand her the chit, "We've got a job, one cred up front, billable stuff once we're done. Pem, we need passage to the Outer Rim. Squall, you've got the intel on that chit. Feed Pem what he needs. Also, look into the corp that hired us. We're supposed to retake a brand new spice mine, I want to know why."

    Pem wants to cut out the middle-man? I roll my eyes, "If you can get us work without Deet, feel free. But he set us up with a decent gig, so we're taking it. We leave as soon as we're able, no reason to play around, the miners might get antsy and bulk up before we blow them to hell."
  • Squall looks excited and takes the chit from your hands, eagerly running over to her portable workstation. Is she normally a cheery person? Or is this just one of her moods?

    Pem takes a huge drag off his death stick as you "lecture" him about Deet's usefulness. He leans back comfortably, and doesn't pay much mind. "You got it, sweetie — passage to the outer rims, coming up!" Is Pem a self-starter, or do you normally have to light a fire under him to deliver?

    Jazz adds his two creds to the mix, "yeah, and watch out for prospectors and miners that work out that way — I'm thinking this won't be too much trouble."

    Burr interrupts, "or, you know, run some astrometrics, and tell me where to plop my old keister while you guys have all the fun."

    Jazz comes up beside you and nudges your shoulder, "you wanna get a drink while these brains do their job?"
  • Squall is excitable, yeah. She tries to put on a happy face most of the time, which is weird for a Rattataki. She prefers droids to people, since her parents pretty much ignored her as child. She was physically weak and they gave up on her. I don't mind her cheeriness, it's nice to have someone who isn't trying to act like a trid hero around, you know?

    Jazz comes up and says the magic words. I smirk at him, "Yeah, let's." I consider asking Mr. Burr, but he's such a bore when he gets drunk. So, I don't. He can cry in his own cups.

    "You wanna head back to that strip bar?" I ask Jazz as we head outside. I know he does. He has a thing for Togruta.
  • -- END SCENE --
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