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[SWAW] From Here to There (1)
Ladro,
It's baking outside as the skiff you rented sidles up to Jabba the Hutt's pleasure barge. You've arrived here during Big Nap, or Great Sleep, or whatever Tattooine calls the part of the day when most sane folks are indoors resting. Just so happens to be Scorch Season, and it's deadly to be caught out in the desert without some protection. How did you end up delivering the payment for Skoozy now, Ladro?
Captain Navaro and the Libation's crew are back at Mos Eisley picking up cargo and refueling. Jojee griped about all the sand in the ship's turbines, but Squall seemed to find it "an interesting challenge" to keep things running smooth. Ze's always trying to find the silver lining in every cloud, which is a relief compared to Jojee's surly attitude and Hosk's sarcasm.
Hosk is with you, of course. Hes wearing his normal dusky orange synth-leather duster with a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. He's got his Sienar X-430 blaster rifle "stunted", meaning the telescoping barrel and fold-out stock are both retracted, making the weapon look more like a heavy pistol, especially in his small hands. He's smoking his customary black deathstick lit, the smoke curling up towards his left eye so it squints. He looks up at you as you both step off the skiff onto the over-sized barge. He says in his low grumble, "Well, this is a karking picnic, aint it, Lad?"
Now you know that you've got to hand Skoozy's case to Bib Fortuna and get his mark for the delivery to be legit. A couple Gammorrean guards come over to you, they've both got those vibro-axes in their chubby hands and they eye you with suspicion.
"Why you here, pinkie?" the slightly taller one grunts in Huttese, what sounds like a native accent, meaning he's slaveborn. This is all he's ever known.
The deck of the party barge is largely empty, shaded by the many beige and orange sails above. There are a few droids moving about, cleaning the deck during the heat. But smart people are belowdecks. It's pretty quiet right now.
What do you do?
It's baking outside as the skiff you rented sidles up to Jabba the Hutt's pleasure barge. You've arrived here during Big Nap, or Great Sleep, or whatever Tattooine calls the part of the day when most sane folks are indoors resting. Just so happens to be Scorch Season, and it's deadly to be caught out in the desert without some protection. How did you end up delivering the payment for Skoozy now, Ladro?
Captain Navaro and the Libation's crew are back at Mos Eisley picking up cargo and refueling. Jojee griped about all the sand in the ship's turbines, but Squall seemed to find it "an interesting challenge" to keep things running smooth. Ze's always trying to find the silver lining in every cloud, which is a relief compared to Jojee's surly attitude and Hosk's sarcasm.
Hosk is with you, of course. Hes wearing his normal dusky orange synth-leather duster with a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. He's got his Sienar X-430 blaster rifle "stunted", meaning the telescoping barrel and fold-out stock are both retracted, making the weapon look more like a heavy pistol, especially in his small hands. He's smoking his customary black deathstick lit, the smoke curling up towards his left eye so it squints. He looks up at you as you both step off the skiff onto the over-sized barge. He says in his low grumble, "Well, this is a karking picnic, aint it, Lad?"
Now you know that you've got to hand Skoozy's case to Bib Fortuna and get his mark for the delivery to be legit. A couple Gammorrean guards come over to you, they've both got those vibro-axes in their chubby hands and they eye you with suspicion.
"Why you here, pinkie?" the slightly taller one grunts in Huttese, what sounds like a native accent, meaning he's slaveborn. This is all he's ever known.
The deck of the party barge is largely empty, shaded by the many beige and orange sails above. There are a few droids moving about, cleaning the deck during the heat. But smart people are belowdecks. It's pretty quiet right now.
What do you do?
Comments
I'm standing here at the hottest time of day in the hottest season of the year on the hottest karking planet in this ass-end of universe, precisely because no one sane is going to be around to ask questions or hold things up. In and out while the Hutt is sleeping, back to the Libation.
"Here for Bib Fortuna, koochoo. Get him now."
Also, it sounds like you spent some time planning this operation. So lets see you roll for Methodical.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 1, 3. Total: 6)
"I've got yer back, Lad." Hosk says with a pat of the rifle slung over his shoulder.
I assume you follow? If not, let me know and we'll adjust.
You head past a huge capital ship gun that's been affixed as a mounted gun on the deck, then the smaller guard opens the door to belowdecks. You clomp clomp down metal stairs into the cooler, air controlled area. It's quiet here, no bouncing music or chatter. The bowels of the ship hum with engines and the work of the droids and slaves who don't get Big Naps.
Two decks down, your Gammorrean guard opens a securely fastened door by the crank in the front, and points for you to enter. This room takes up a full third of the ship. This appears to be one of the communal levels of the ship where folks come to drink and dance. Probably thirty different individuals are lying on pillows or couches or the floor, sleeping in little piles of beings. Some look like dancers, others are rough patrons or artisans. The smell of spilled intoxicants is heavy here.
Along the left-hand wall is a statue of a man reaching out, a look of pain on his face. The side of the sculpture blinks slowly. The right-hand side is a series of shuttered windows, constructed to give a view of the desert, now closed to the heat.
The guard walks behind you, pushing you forward. Hosk grumbles quietly, but he's following your lead and truly, these guys are being gentle, for Gammorreans. You pass through this common area towards another door to a smaller room perhaps its the majordomo's. Are you doing anything?
I'm looking, for sure. The scenery is intriguing, to say the least. There's one Twi'lek with pale turquoise skin, sprawled out topless on a brocade cushion, that is... I shake off the distractions and focus. Business first. Keeping an eye out for danger.
The lead guard raps on the door, and from inside you hear a male voice respond.
Inside this room, which has gauzy curtains, no exterior windows, a small divan with this girl reclining on it...
In the middle of the room is a small sandalwood desk. Bib Fortuna sits behind it, looking over datapads and pictures, creds stacked neatly like towers. This is him:
Does he recognize you, Ladro?
"Die wanna wanga?" he asks you curiously.
If Fortuna recognizes me, it's by reputation. We've never met, although we have a number of shared... acquaintances.
I respond in kind. "Delivery for you, from Skoozy. Need your mark." No need for small talk. In and out, like I said.
The Twi-Lek's eyes flash in appreciation and he nods, accepting it. He takes your datapad and marks it with the correct insignia. The tension seems to leave the room. You've made the delivery, got the mark, finished the job.
As you move towards the door, Bib Fortuna asks in his gurgling voice, "Are you dretruning to de Skoozy with de mahk?"
E chu ta! Last time I saw any myrthrocite, it was just one nugget, not even refined, and two scumbags were fighting to the death over it. As it turned out, they both lost, and I pocketed the rock. Wound up buying me a two-week vacation on Zeltros, with all the perks included.
I nod, look toward Hosk with a raised eyebrow he'll recognize. We don't like surprises. I mean no one likes surprises, but we really don't like surprises.
I turn back toward Bib Fortuna. "Yes, I am. Only way to get paid." I wait for whatever he says. No need for small talk, like I said, but no need to be rude, either.
"I am sending Shahana Alam with you. Dey will not cause trouble. Once you both meet de Skoozy, dey will go dere own way." Bib Fortuna says this dismissively, as if it is already accepted.
"Not happening, Bib Fortuna. I brought this for Skoozy because he didn't want to see your people. I walk back into his place on Paradise Road with Shahana, and he'll shoot us both."
Hosk gives me a look. Skoozy's nowhere near Paradise Road, of course.
The Gammorrean's grunt, "Pinkie, you take Weequay or we chop chop."
Hosk says quiet, "Lad, we can't cross Jabba..."
What do you do?
"Alright. I won't take your Weequay to Skoozy, but I will bring Skoozy to your Weequay. We'll go to the Cantina and I'll stay with Shahana while Hosk brings Skoozy to the meet. He pays me, I'm out and you can conduct your business." I... am an idiot, apparently. Skoozy is not going to be happy.
A Weequay joins you as you un-moor the skiff. He looks like this:
Shahana doesn't say anything, he just walks right onto the skiff.
Hosk lights a new deathstick, "Wonderful company we keep, Lad. Karking wonderful."
We cut to the three of you on your skiff cruising above the sand dunes headed for the Mos Eisley Cantina. Anything you want to do on the way?
I give Hosk a quick nod of agreement. Maybe his attitude's rubbing off on me finally, but I'm feeling pretty grumpy right now, myself. This was supposed to be easy. In and out, like I keep saying.
After we're on the way, "So, Shahana. What's your business with Skoozy? Understood this completed his payment." I give the Weequay a long, slow look. I need to know what I'm getting Skoozy into.
(Rolled: 2d6+0. Rolls: 4, 1. Total: 5)
Hosk shakes his head. He's not buying that line. At all.
I'm not either, but it's Jabba, right? Too late to keep it from happening, I'll just hope to pick up the pieces, make it right to Skoozy after somehow. I put down as near the Cantina as I can, walk in with Shahana. Don't even have to give Hosk a look. Warn Skoozy, but make certain he shows up.
It's not great. It's not right, but the world is the world.
I'd like to see you "Act Under Fire" through Hosk to get Skoozy here and ready.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 6. Total: 10)
Shahana spent the last few standard hours ignoring you and drinking at the bar, chatting with some friendly folks, including a one-armed Aqualish.
Finally, Hosk shows up, with Skoozy in tow. Little Skoozy is a small-time Toydarian "businessman" who smuggles things for his home planet's syndicate from time to time. He floats in above Hosk and heads over to your table. Hosk heads over to the bar, by Shahana.
Skoozy comes over like he has no idea what's up, but in his eyes, you see that he does. "Hullo, Ladro. You got de mark?"
I turn my datapad to face him. "Yeah, there's the mark. Let's call this one even, okay? Sorry for the trouble, but Jabba's pet Twi'lek blindsided me. We'll stick around for a bit, make sure this guy doesn't pull your wings off without provocation."
Dammit. Hosk is going to give me a full load of druk for this. I'll make it up, though. I'm ready to get up, give the nod to Shahana.
"The same pile of bantha poodoo you're getting, Skoozy. Comply, or piss off Nal Hutta, right? I'm taking a loss, here. No hard feelings?"
If you've got nothing else to say to Skoozy, he'll leave with Shahana.
Hosk comes over, "Well, Lad. Let's buy some drinks and toast a job well done, eh?"
Good idea, even if I don't feel the job was particularly well done. I'll buy us a round, Corellian ale for me and whatever that fruity thing is that Hosk drinks. I raise my glass in salute. "Muscles of durasteel, nerves of beskar, tongues of silver, hearts of gold, cocks of permacrete!"
Unless Hosk is in a hurry, I'll sit for a few before we head back to the Libation.
St Snoodles is wailing away at some forlorn love song set to a jaunty Bish tune. Folks stream in and out, most of them rough customers.
When you drink at the Mos Eisley cantina, roll+Cool
On a hit, choose options. On a 7-9, choose one. On a 10+, choose two.
* You run into someone you know, or who knows you
* You pick up some info on some work or "a thing that needs doing"
* You get into a fight
* You get lucky
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 9)
OOC: Spending Ladro's Bond with Hosk to make that roll a 10.
* I pick up some info on some work or "a thing that needs doing".
* I get lucky.
She was pretty loopy on a bit of Ryll, and chatted you up for a while before inviting you over to the hostel where she was staying with her brother and his crew. After a bit of fun and romance, you're lying on her bed, a large fan on the ceiling circling overhead, a bit of incense in the air, a floral scent that isn't ovepowering. The place has a bunch of packs and bags and gear stacked around, so much so that during one athletic bit of fun she banged her ankle on a seismic reader, and whimpered about it until she started laughing again.
Tri'scanna's head is resting in the crook of your arm as she idly plays with a lock of your hair. "Ladro..." Tri says softly. "You want to score some easy cred? My brother Zek and I are having some trouble with a Dug over a misunderstanding about water prices. We're on a peaceful sojourn, so I can't lift a weapon against him. You, uhm... think you could get him to back off?" She's offering 1-Cred.
I can use the cred, for sure, and it'd give me a chance to come... report back. "You just want a reason to see me again, admit it." I kiss her forehead. "But sure, I can always use some spending money, and if I can't convince a Dug to charge you fair for water, I should hang up my blaster and raise bantha. What's his name, and where do I find him?"
She pushes at your chest, "And yes, I would like to see you again, Ladro. You're fun. But I'm only here for another lunar cycle, then we pull up stakes for Naboo. A holiday, actually. And sojourn is over... so maybe I'll kick your face in." She titters again, not at all serious. Probably not capable of it, either.
After a slow goodbye, I head through the hot, dusty streets toward Watto's. I pass the occasional familiar face with a nod or a handslap. I start asking around when I get close, until someone points me toward Oglut.
"Oglut, greetings. How's business?"
"Business isn't too bad, friend," he says with a gravelly voice. "You want some water? Something else?"
"Something else. Understand you have some bad biz between you and a Mirialan name of Zek, maybe his sister, too. I'm here to sort it out. What's it take to satisfy your... honor in this matter, Oglut?"
"Sure, sure, Oglut. Your feelings got hurt. What does it take to make this right? To stop this poodoo between you and the Mirialans? No need to bring honor into this, right? We can make sure you get your full payment...."
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 11)
You realize watching him that either Zek need to publicly and loudly apologize for offending him, in front of his friends, OR you need to make a show of force to prove that violence will happen if Zek is bothered. That's the only way his honor will be handled.
Well, I was hired to take care of this, and if Zek had been of a mind to come make a show of apologizing, he'd have done so, I'm sure.
"I'm really a good person, Oglut. I tell good jokes with impeccable timing. I can order beer and whiskey in over a dozen languages. I've never had any complaints from the ladies. I am also very good at my job. Which in this case is making sure you back off from the hassle you're giving the Mirialans."
I lash out with a foot, kick Oglut in the chest. I make it look good, but I don't want to hurt him too badly.
"Message received, Oglut?"
After a few more kicks, enough to show some dark blood around his lips and his left eye is winking, he holds up his legs (which for a Dug is like holding up your hands), "No more! I give! As long as the offworlder stays away, I'll never bother him again!"
Hosk gives a nod, like "that's that". What now?
"Oh, Ladro!" Tri says as she hops up to hug your neck, "That was so fast!" She slips you a credstick, kissing you several times.
Hosk meets up with you and you both return to the ship. She's at Docking Bay 42, an open air patch of quikcrete where you left her. As you come up, Seesk is using the grav lifter to load some huge palettes of glass into the hold. Jojee is on top of the Libation with a huge wire brush, she's busy scrubbing out sand from joints. She's covered with sweat, been working a while at this. If nothing, she doesn't quit until she's done.
"Greets, Hosk! Greets, Ladro! Good timing, I was gonna ring ya. We're loading up and getting cleared to take off shortly. You ready to leave this wonderful desert paradise?"
I may be a little disappointed that I won't get another chance to spend time with Tri soon, but people never really disappear, which is good and bad. I'll see her again. "You bet your ass, Squall. I've got sand in the cracks of the sand in my cracks!"
Jojee looks near sweated-out up there, and I do try to get on her good side. I'll grab a bottle of water from inside the ship, then head out. "Jojee! Water?"
Jojee looks down over the side of the ship at you, her hair clinging to her forehead and the sides of her purple face. She glares at you and Hosk, answering through gritted teeth, "Don't want to put you out or anything, Ladro."
Hosk snaps back, "Let 'er cook up there, Lad."
I climb up the ladder. If it was hot on the ground, it's sweltering up here, with the metal of the hull reflecting the light back. I hand her the bottle. "Not putting me out at all, Jojee. It's karking hot." Some days she gets to me, but I'm freshly laid, and with a credstick in my pocket to top it off. Worth being in a good mood for a while.
Jojee watches you come up top. She's scrubbed the turbines until they're gleaming. She looks at the bottle, like maybe she doesn't trust you. With narrowed eyea, she snags the bottle and takes several long gulps.
She pours a little over her head, then says, "Thanks." She looks a bit more relaxed.
Seesk continues loading crates, Squall and Hosk head inside for preflight checks.
What is your shuttle named?
Your comm bleeps to life. It's Captain Leeadra, "Everything good with your shuttle, Ladro? We're leaving shortly if it is."
Captain Leeadra Navaro calls over the comms throughout the ship, "Everybody stay buckled in. The debris we came through on our arrival is still up there. I'm trying to scoot past it, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."
Squall's in the engine room. Seesk is in quarters. Jojee is up in the cockpit with Leeadra. Hosk is buckled in the shuttle and the med droid is in the bay. Where do you buckle down?
I hate being on the shuttle with Hosk when the Libation leaves planet. He's even grumpier than usual. I'm in the galley, strapped in and listening to the Max Rebo Band through my headphones. I take Leeadra seriously when she tells me to buckle in.
Ze gives you a warm smile, "Greets again, Ladro." Ze heads to the autochef, punches in a code for some vegetables. As ze is facing the autochef, back to you, ze asks "Do anything fun in Mos Eisley? They have lots of interesting... dalliances, I hear." Ze has a tiny little butt, very thin. Reminds you of Tri. A little.
And yeah, I'm checking out that ass. Thin, side-to-side, but there's that cute little bubble to it. What? A shapely ass is a shapely ass.
Ze puts the veggies on a plate, then bends over to pick up a couple glasses, pours some blue milk in each. As ze pours, "I re-calibrated the plotter for the astrogation system, it was out of sync with some of the latest star maps, and we lost about 4% fuel with poor calcs in the last couple jumps. Lee was happy to hear about that fix... Jojee made some crack about how I should've caught it earlier. She's right." Ze looks over, maybe catching you staring at zir butt. Probably not. Ze's all smiles regardless.
Squall puts all of it on a tray, and comes over to the table. Ze puts a glass near you. "I ran some diagnostics on the tether system. I think your shuttle might need some tweaks, Ladro. Nothing big, but the filtration system is a bit off kilter. I could check it out, give you a rundown for the cost of parts to fix, stuff like that. If you want." Ze pops a neatly chopped crunchy green veggie in zir mouth and munches happily, washing it down with blue milk.
Who normally does the work on your shuttle, Ladro?
I listen politely. A lot of what Squall says goes over my head, but zir enthusiasm makes up for that. When ze makes zir offer, I accept enthusiastically. "That would be great, Squall, if Lee can spare you. Really great. Hosk and I can do most of the little things, but if it doesn't make a funny noise or smoke or something obvious, we're not great at knowing it's broken." Squall usually does help with the big stuff. We're just renting the shuttle, after all, it belongs to Lee.
Squall chuckles, then reaches up zir hand open zir mouth, "You are so adorable, Ladro.... looking for funny noises and smoke. Why did Lee ever let you go?"
I wink. "Women, right?"
Food would be good, I realize, even if I'm not up for what Squall's eating. I go to the autochef myself, get some dumpling soup.
"So, did you pick up any new music on Tatooine? I overheard something about a band called 'Adam and the Fissions,' but not sure what they sound like."
Squall turns zir head while munching, watching you head to the autochef. Ze takes a swig of blue milk and answers, "There's this rad band called Boba Fett and the Bounty Hunters. I caught some waves off a local station. I hear they do concerts in full costumes. Sounds fun, you know?"
"It does sound like fun. We'll have to keep an eye out for them when we can." I'm back at the table with my dumpling soup. Not bad as-is, and I'm too lazy to go to the shuttle and get the Chandrilan Rocket hot sauce from my private stock, so I just dig in, slurping a little.
"You know, I forgot to ask. Where are we headed next?"
"We got a huge shipment of glass to take to Falleen. Actually, Seesk hooked us up. Good haul, as long as we don't kark it up. I've got some extra stabilizers in the hold, though. Should be fine."
Ze takes a long drink of zir blue milk, finishing the glass, then munches up the rest of zir veggies. "Think you can get any work there?" Squall holds each veggie like one of Hosk's deathsticks, and widdles zir naked eyebrows in a comical gesture. Ze likes playing with zir food.
That's when the captain comes in the lounge, looking between the still-giggling Squall and you. She smirks, "You two having fun?"
Squall holds up a thin forefinger, as if to say "give me a moment". Ze's barely able to contain zirself.
Squall giggles out something that you think ze meant to be, "I have an acutely refined sense of humor, Ladro!"
The captain shakes her head, her newly colored aquamarine locks flipping back and forth. She rolls her eyes a bit, too, but not in an evil way. You hand her the credstick and she gives you an appreciative smile, "Thanks, Ladro. After the extra cred I laid down for Squally's grav tanks for the glass tonnage, this will come in handy." She tucks the stick in her pants pocket, then continues, "I don't have anything lined up immediately on Falleen. I have a fallback haul in six solar days from there, but Jojee and I are going to see if we can tweak in something sooner. Docking fees on Falleen are outrageous, and a landing outside the docks could end up costing us more.... what kind of gig are you looking for? I know Jojee has some contacts there." Does Lee know Jojee hates you and she's rubbing it in? Or is she honestly trying to help?
Lee answers, "I'm sure you'll get her to talk, Ladro. You're very convincing when you set your mind to it. She's in the cockpit now, so she's a captive audience. I'm getting a sonic shower to get rid of every speck of sand... finally." She heads past you both after grabbing some fruit from the small fridge unit in the wall by the autochef, going back the way she came, towards the fore of the ship, into her quarters.
Squall tosses the last veggie in zir mouth, picks up zir tray and takes it to the autochef to deposit it for cleaning, "I'm heading back to check on the hyperspace drive. See if the new astrogation calcs are up to snuff." Ze heads to the aft through the corridor towards the engine room.
As everyone scatters for their various goals, I try not to think of Lee or Squall in the sonic shower. I make my way to the cockpit. I steel myself as I walk in. "So, Jojee..." I clear my throat, uncomfortable. "...Lee said you have contacts on Falleen. I'd like to pick up next month's rent while we're there, but I know you're looking for a quick turnaround. Any suggestions for who I should get in touch with?"
Jojee is in the pilot's chair, busying herself with the controls even though everything seems to be running just fine. You come up, and she looks over her shoulder at you, then back to her "work". Which might just be ignoring you, or it might not.
When you ask who to hit up for jobs, she responds flatly, "If you want me to be your fixer, then there's a ten percent fee." She taps a couple buttons on the console and checks a reading on the left-most display.
Ten percent isn't bad, but still, "No friends and family discount, Jojee?" I give my most winning smile to the back of her head. "Kidding. Ten percent's fine. Just let me know, and please do resist the temptation to get me killed."
Jojee doesn't turn around at the "friends and family discount crack", but you catch a scowl in the reflection of the glass.
You mention not getting killed, and she glances over at you, "I'm not going to get you killed, Ladro. Hosk might, but I won't. We need the rent." She gives you a smart aleck smile, then turns back to the console.
"I've got some friends in House Terrik. They're in a spat with Shif'tisth again, so I'm sure there will be some trouble you can stir up."
I chuckle at her quip, then when she mentions talking to friends in House Terrik "Perfect, Jojee. Just let me know what you come up with. And I'll give you a bonus if it somehow involves watching Hosk try to seduce a Falleen princess."
Jojee snickers at that one, "Shavit, Ladro. That's something I'd pay to see." It only lasts for a moment before she pushes it aside. It's like there's an expiration limit on her sense of humor.
After it seems like you're not leaving right away, she glances back at you."Ladro," she asks, "Why are you here? What are you really after?"
Okay, I'll try honesty.
"Here? In the cockpit now? I'd say eighty-five percent is just what I said. Looking for work, and Lee said you had contacts that might help. The other fifteen is that I'm still looking for a way for us to be okay. Lee and I didn't work out, and when she dumped me like a load of druk, I acted badly. But, she and I aren't at each other's throats anymore, and I don't want to live with you hating me, either, if I can help it."
"She dumped you?" Jojee flicks a couple toggles, then pivots the chair to face you. She tilts her head to give you a curious look, "I thought you cheated on her? She said..." Jojee pauses, then crosses her arms. "Alright. Maybe you aren't a complete schutta, then. Is that what you want?"
"Cheated? Well, depends on how you look at things. The third time she told be to krong myself, I figured she meant it for real. Decided to find someone else to krong me, though. Turns out it was the fourth time that she really meant it. So, yeah. After I say that, though, if you're still willing to give me partial schutta status, I'll take it for now. We'll do each other's hair later."
"I'm not going to touch that mess on your head that you call hair, Ladro." Jojee's words are sharp, but her tone shifts to amused. "It's probably better for both of you. You're awful for each other."
She leans back in the chair a bit, snickers, "Remember when she came at you with that vibro-knife over the Rodian girl? And, was it true you were into her?"
I shake my head, then burst out into a full-on belly laugh. "Chikoob? You know the funny thing about that? 'She' was a Rodian drag queen. No, I wasn't into her. I was playing her for a job. Lee knew that, but our friend brandy from Corellia made her forget for a minute. Girl can't drink brown liquor."
"Corellian brandy?" Jojee asks with a laugh. "Ladro, you know what that does to a girl, right? I've had a few bottles of it myself, always kriffs me up. That liquid... is nothing but trouble." She seems to protest a bit much, and now she's grinning with some memory.
"There was this one time. Lee, me and Chaddith finished a Correllian Run, it was maybe six cycles ago. We ended up drinking on this hideaway bar Chaddith knew about on the capital city of Froz, which was also called Froz. Cotrin was part of the crew then, he was there." What did Lee tell you about Cotrin? Did she say why he's not part of the crew now?
Jojee shifts forward, sitting still, but almost standing, the balls of her feet on the deck, her hair slips down over her shoulders, hanging down. She starts talking with her hands, "Froz is a low-grav planet, right? So Cotrin teaches us this drinking game, he called it 'shot tossing;. You have to flick your wrist just right to get the liquid to jump up just far enough to sort of gulp it out of the air. The sleemo tricked us into finishing four bottles of Corellian brandy before I passed out." She gives this crooked smile, finishing with, "I was hung over for three days, Ladro. Three. Days. That liquid... nothing but trouble."
Lee mentioned Cotrin. He'd still be on the Libation if he wasn't in Kalaan Prison. Apparently, not all bar fights are created equal, and the man he killed in his last one was an undercover Imperial agent.
"Noted, Jojee. No brown liquor for females. They simply can't handle it."
Jojee's eyes narrow, and she grips the arms on her chair and pushes herself forward far enough to kick your shin. It's not a full attack, more like a childish lashing out, really.
"E chu ta, Ladro!" She huffs a laugh, "I thought you were being nice to me, you piece of shab..."
She sits back up, eyes still slits. "Here I was starting to get used to you... maybe."
I bark a single laugh and give Jojee a lopsided smile. "I promise I'll grow on you, Jojee. Well, now that I've put my foot in my mouth again, I'll get out of your hair. Thanks again for helping with House Terrik." I'll head back out, grab a bowl of that fish stew slop that Hosk insists is food, and make my way to the shuttle.
Tell me about this shuttle. Have you made it into a home? Do you and Hosk have separate rooms? What's the vibe?
I enter the shuttle. We've put the original passenger seats in storage, and Hosk and I each have about half of the original passenger cabin, with a corridor between. Such luxury, too! We each have our own refresher, and it's almost big enough to turn around in. My cabin's jumbled with bits and pieces I've picked up from different planets, mementos from women I've known. My bed's really just a big pillowy matress on the floor.
I knock on the door of Hosk's cabin. "Brought you some grub, Hosk."
"It's open, Lad." you hear his gruff voice reply.
Hosk's cabin is as tidy as ever, with the footlocker that he personally bolted against one wall, the gun cabinet he installed beside, his small work desk when is also affixed to the deckplates. There's a small storage crate that holds most of his "worldly" goods, the few he was able to recover after getting out of prison. It's seen better days, not unlike it's owner.
"Set it on the table, will ya, Lad?" Hosk says from his little hammock. He's in a skinsuit, bare feet hanging over the sides, he was reading some trashy novel on his datapad. He clambers up and climbs down the rope ladder to the deck with only a slight groan at the movement.
Hosk is short for a Bothan, standing about five feet tall with the ears and hair. ""Thanks. Much thanks." He picks up the stew, starts slurping away. Between bites, he asks, "Everythin' alright with the crew?"
I put the bowl down on the table. "Everything's as alright as always. I think I may be making progress with She Who Must Be Grumpy. Haven't talked to Seesk yet, but Lee and Squall seem fine. We're heading to Falleen, by the way. Jojee's got friends in House Terrik, she's going to try to get us a hookup."
"Pfft, Lad. Why do you care so much about what that purple gal thinks? She's obviously been passed over by the last owner of the Libation, and Lee doesn't pay her any attention, either. Better to aim your targets at real threats." He gobbles down several more bites.
Hosk shrugs, "The work's good, Lad. But the rest... ah, do what you like. But there's no way you're hitting that. I bet Squall's got a better shot than you do, heh heh." He slurps down the rest of his stew, and sighs contentedly.
"Good stew, Lad. Hey, you taking a shower? Took me half an hour to get all the sand out of my cracks so to speak." He puts the bowl on his desk and pulls out his little telescoping rifle along with a cleaning kit.
I laugh, remembering Squall's giggles when I talked about wiggling through cracks. "Straight up, Hosk. Lee should comp us for the water and sonic when we land on Tatooine, right?" And I do. Head back to my cabin, strip down and then pad back out into the corridor to my refresher. Sweet relief, although I'm glad no one can see me spreading my cheeks to get at all the sand.
And yes, it takes about a half-hour, but I finally feel clean. I head back to my cabin, naked through the corridor (Hosk doesn't care, and no-one else is here unless I know they are). Then I sit at my desk for a while, check out what we know about the current situation on Falleen.
Water riots continue in the Yellow District. MOONS: social media pics, pundits' columns, SecOps scanner calls, ambo calls
The Low-Orbit War has officially ended and the veterans will begin coming down in mass numbers. MOONS: politician’s speeches, veterans' social media, space elevator protocols, gravity acclimation therapy centers stocks rise
Falleen Throne Council Elections are heating up; corporate money is flying around like blaster bolts in a war-zone. MOONS: Candidate’s speeches, legislative voting histories, social media and profiles
As of last night, the Visiting Triffian dignitary is either missing or assassinated, depending on who is reporting. MOONS: Dignitary’s social media posts, Local press coverage of dignitary’s official visit, Conspiracy dingbat’s theories
Some ronin reporters are starting to leak data about a dramatic bit of SecOps corruption that is shocking even by today’s standards. MOONS: Reporters' feeds, SecOps official statement, Journalists' Private Professional Feeds
The links and data float around you. Throwing the data to your left with a tilt of your head, flicker of your eyes or hand swipe will put it in the trash. A deft toss and the data goes into your sorting folders to your right: INTERESTING, BORING BUT LUCRATIVE, STRANGE HUNCH, and of course your ENCRYPTED SAFE FOLDER.
You'll be there in a standard day or so.
--END SCENE--