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[SWAW] Pitstop (4)
Seen from above, Trident Vespa lives up to its name – it looks like a vast pitchfork, with permacrete and ferrocrete lanes forming the tines, and buildings around all the edges. The outer two lanes are longer than the one in the center, and dozens of spaceships of all shapes and sizes gleam and flash in the starlight. After a few seconds of taking in the main shape of the spaceport, you start noticing the details: ground cars moving between ships, rotating gun turrets atop the largest buildings
and small atmospheric craft landing and taking off on the far lane. Even from the air, though, you can tell what you are getting into – the ships may gleam brightly, but the station itself does not. This is no glittering commercial hub, clean, safe and corporate – it feels a bit more like the Outer Rim.
You're in the lounge, strapped in beside Squall. Ze's talking with you and Leeadra while Jojee brings the Libation in for landing. There's an external display feed showing you the view of the Vespa from the belly of your ship.
While the ship shakes and groans a little during approach into the simulated atmo, Squall's chirping away, "Ladro, I can't believe you've never been to Vespa, or Eiska, one of the four moons of Rodia. Seriously, Rodia sits just off the Correlian Run trade route that connects planets like Ryloth, Falleen, Druckenwell, Rhommameel, Nubia, Froz, and of course, Corellia. It's one of the most profitable trade routes around..."
Leeadra cuts in with,"Profitable trade routes mean expensive refueling stations, housing and docking fees. Except here at Trident Vespa. Chaddith and I own one of the warehouses here, so this is pretty cheap all around."
"Oh, cheap's the word I'd use. That's for sure." Squall replies with a wink to you.
"Ladro, are you close enough to thwack zir on the head? Such insolence!" Lee chuckles once, letting you know it's not a serious "order". Squall's eyes widen and ze leans away a little, just in case.
Coming in for a landing on the Trident’s Lane Three would make an ordinary person want to close their eyes – there is so much activity in the air and on the ground that it looks like it would be impossible to land there. The ground comes up amazingly fast before your descent levels out, and then it begins streaking by beneath you as you speed towards the
spaceport.
Up ahead, a heavy freighter is maneuvering its bulky frame into a landing berth, and a cloud of sensor drones darts out of the way as you near your landing area. You come in hot, forward attitude jets blazing as you brake, and then drop down on a dime –in an area barely twice the size of your ship. A truck trailing hydraulic hoses pulls up to the ship, and other visitors close in around it on their way to destinations elsewhere on the lane. In under a minute, you would not know that your ship had not been here all along, so quickly does it become just another part of the spaceport.
"Alright, kids. This is a refuel and trade off. I've got some druk to grab from our warehouse. Check in at dinner to make sure everyone's safe. Stay frosty, lots of boys in white around here."
Hosk cuts in on the chatter, out of the blue, "Yeah, I heard this place is an unofficial depot for them. There was a kriffing colonel here last time I was on Vespa."
Your comm... that comm glows faintly. It's time for you to speak to Sark.
As the fueling crews are working on the ship, everyone unbuckles and starts heading out. Seesk is up and healthy as ever. She's made plans with Jojee, and the mismatched pair head off together. Hosk is probably hitting a bar. Squall's hanging out near you, like ze's not sure where to go, what else to do. You know Lee's doing work for the ship, like she said.
What do you do?
Comments
"Squall, I'm going to head off on my own for a little bit. An old friend of mine worked on Vespa as of last year. I'm going to try and look him up. Do you want to meet for dinner later? You call the place."
Squall quirks a little frown. Ze licks zir lips, shifting from foot to foot, "You sure you don't, uhm, want some company maybe? I'm good with old friends."
"An old lady friend, Squall. You with me?"
I feel a little bad, lying to Squall, but I do. Sark made me do it.
Manipulate
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 1. Total: 7)
"Oh, okay. Squall says, zir expression falling slightly. "Spungo's is pretty great." Squall pauses, shrugs, then admits, "Alright, it's actually sort of awful, but my cousin works there and the food's not so bad. So, uhm, meet me there for dinner?"
"Bet on it. Seven local?" I'm heading out to the hangar. I'll walk with Squall for a little then break off purposefully to check a data terminal in the port. "See you then, Squally!" I feel sad to make zir wander alone, but Sark has me by the short and curlies.
I pull out the comm once ze's out of sight, and contact him.
The hologram of Sark flickers to life. He's somewhat transparent and blue (as you'd expect from hologram projectors of this size and type), but there's no mistaking his eyes, his demeanor. "Ladro." Sark says smartly, "Interesting work with Raxus Secundus recently."
I hide my disconcerted reaction. "Yes, Captain, you know all and see all. What can I do for you today?"
Sark's eyes narrow dangerously for a moment. You can tell he's less than pleased with your flippant reaction. Your jaw aches in memory of the work he did on you.
Then, like he turned a page, it is gone. "Imperial forces are being assigned to the Raxus sector shortly. You will convince Captain Navaro to make another run to Secundus. I know you've made the acquaintance with a Secundan calling himself Orux the Mighty. You will deliver the package to him." He pauses, tilts his head slightly as if to allow for any questions.
Great. Back to Orux the Extra Large. "What package is that, Captain Sark?"
"The package is on the Trident Vespa." Sark responds smartly. His image flickers and is replaced by a flickering holo-display of the space station, to the southern sector.
(zoom in one)
(zoom in two)
Sark continues, "You will meet a contact at a bar called Spungo's, a male using the pseudonym Blindermin."
This head appears in the display:
Sark appears again after a few seconds, "Purchase a secure passkey from Blindermin, then pick up the package, which is a large crate marked as R243 Replacement Parts. You will not want to be seen making the purchase or the pickup."
"I can do that. Two questions. Is Blindermin expecting me, or do I have to say 'I'd like a secure passkey, please?' And, what's actually in the crate? And since I know you won't answer the second question, I'll go ahead and rephrase it. Is the package a direct threat to the well-being of my crew, in and of itself?"
"I've arranged the pick-up from Blindermin through channels." Sark explains with a smirk, as if to say "I don't trust you enough to do all this yourself." "The crate is filled with thermal detonators and splicing equipment. In short, yes. If it is damaged, of course. Also, if you're caught with it by Raxus forces."
He crosses his arms and inclines his head slightly, "I'm sure you understand that none of your crew can know what you're delivering, or to whom."
"What, absolutely, but I may have to admit to the whom, at least to my partner, in order to make this work. I can spin our previous contact with Orux so he doesn't cop that it's anything out of the ordinary."
"Very well, I'll leave that to your judgment." Sark replies. He narrows his eyes for a moment, "Be aware that I am fully aware of your partner's past dealings vis a vis the Empire. If I feel he is unduly aware of our work, I can pull the string on him and have him shipped to the spice mines on Kessel without needing to involve you in the slightest." He purses his lips, "I also have nice, healthy files on each member of your crew. You might find it verrry interesting what they've done before you happened along, Ladro." He smirks a bit, a private joke he shares with you without the punchline.
"Some day, Captain Sark, I am going to kriffing kill you. Me, personally, face to face, so that you know with your last breath that it was me that did it."
That's what I want to say, what I'm saying in my head.
What I actually do is take a breath, then say, "Captain Sark, in future conversations you don't have to remind me that you have me over a barrel, with my pants down, and you have a dick the size of a bantha's. We can just assume I'm aware of that. I'll get your package. I'll deliver your package. Is there anything else I need to know?"
Sark chuckles lightly, like you just shared a polite little joke with him at a soiree. "There's nothing more you need to know for this, Ladro." He pauses for a moment, then winks out, ending the transmission.
What do you do?
I have something like a plan to do what Sark wants without it seeming strange to Hosk and the crew, but to make the lies hang together I'll need to wait a bit before I contact Hosk. I move back to the data terminal and do a quick search for something that will take my mind off things for a few hours. Massage parlor, art museum, puppet show, whatever... just need to turn the brain off for a while and let time pass.
You're calling Hosk before meeting Squall at Spungo, right?
I got a rock. It's a pretty one, but basically a rock.
Once enough time has passed since we all left the ship, I call Hosk. When his grumpy voice answers, I ask if I can meet him wherever he is. "I've got word of an opportunity."
Hosk peers up at you, his left eye squinting as the smoke of the deathstick's smoke curls past, "You get a line on a bounty, Lad? I've seen a couple that look familiar."
I shake my head. "Nope. A delivery. To our friend Orux the Overlarge on Secundus. It's just one crate, though, and I'd like us to put together a full shipment to make it worth it for Lee to take on the expense and risk of the run. And, I'd like for you and me to keep the Orux part under our hats. My contact said the fewer people know about that, the better."
Hosk takes in a drag from his deathstick, blows out some smoke like a sigh, but not at you, luckily. "We're hidin' cargo from yer ex and the captain of the Libation? That better be a good haul, Lad." He pulled out the deathstick to flick some ash off the end, "Ya need help getting it around Seesk's eyes? She's their quartermaster, more or less." And like that, he's in. You know he's got your back. Might be questions later, but for now, he's in.
"I think if we play it right, we might not even have to do that. Just say one crate is our cargo to handle, our job, and that we put together the rest for the Libation to make the trip worthwhile. I promise I'll take our cut on that, this time, too." I think for a minute. "This place is new to me, Hosk. D'you have any contacts that might be able to help us put together a load? Oh, I'm supposed to meet Squall at Spungo's in a bit."
Hosk chuckles as he comes to a realization, "Might as well keep it on the shuttle then." He takes on last drag from his deathstick, then drops it and squashes it into the quickcrete floor. "We can go legit and check out the haul list at the freighter guild. I know Lee's got a license. Not much pay, but I'm sure nobody's picked up any Raxus deliveries. Or we can rap with Deegon Halfex, a Toydarian who has a few interests around here. He isn't local, exactly, but I'm sure he has stuff to move." He chuckles like it's a private joke. "He always has poodoo to move."
"Let's try the Toydarian first—margin will be higher, I'm guessing. I'll comm Lee once we have a lead on a reasonable cargo."
Great. So the very very contraband crate that could go boom stays on the shuttle with us? I guess that does make sense, but it's a little nerve-wracking.
"Hosk! You old so and so! It's been too long. Who is your friend there?" He peers at you curiously, then back at Hosk.
Hosk gives a head nod of greeting, casual, "Deegon Halfex, a male who's shorter than me is always worth a call, now and then." They both chuckle, this isn't a new joke. "This is my partner Ladro. Ladro, meet Deegon Halfex." Deegon inclines his head, closing his eyes for a moment, a kind of little bow in greeting.
The Toydarian looks at you, since Hosk seems to have handed things over, "What is it that you need, Ladro?"
"Deegon, I'm looking for a cargo that might appeal to the good folks of Raxus Secundus. Hosk tells me that you're just full of poodoo... that needs to be moved from place to place."
The Toydarian llaughs at that one, "Hah hah, Ladro! I see that you are the funny one. Hosk would never make such a joke. He's too sour for such things." He stares off screen, down at something, probably a datapad. "Let me check my inventory..." He looks up, "You're aware that Raxus system is a warzone, yes? I'm not looking to pay warzone prices, you know?"
"If the return is commensurate..." I glance over to Hosk for backup. "...why not pay the premium, Deegon? We're not asking for the moon. Maybe just a big, juicy asteroid."
Deegan chortles, "Aren't you on an asteroid? No matter, let me see here... Secundus is big on agro, yes? Yes, of course. I have some devices and replacement parts I've been sitting on for a little while waiting for prices to spike. They're worth three Cred. I know you can trade it for five worth of agro. I pay you a Cred to take it, which brings me one back. Anything more than five that you get from Secundus, I split with you. What do you say?"
"Really? Split the sure thing in half, then split the finesse fifty-fifty? Come on, what do you really have for us? We're taking the risk, facing the guns."
Deegan gets defensive, a little upset, "What? You think I'm going to swindle you? Hosk, tell your partner I deal square! I can forward you the manifest, you check the prices, see what you find."
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 5. Total: 9)
Is Deegon telling the truth?
How can I get Deegon to give us a better offer/cargo?
If you ask for all of the Creds over five, he comes away with a guaranteed profit, which is four. That would please him mightily.
"I tell you what, Deegon. We'll deliver your cargo, and you'll get the value of your goods back, plus one credit. That's already taking a risk, because you're assuming we'll get five for it. That's the whole deal. We trade for more than five, that's because we're good at what we do, and we'll keep it."
The image of Deegon flickers as he considers the offer. He makes several unpleasant sounds, this is not the deal he wanted, of course.
"Oh, come on, Halfex, squat or get off the pot. It's a good enough deal, and we'll work through down the line.." Hosk grumbles at the Toydarian.
Deegon huffs out a breath, shaking his head, mostly at himself, "Very well. But the agricultural goods, route them back through me if you can. I would appreciate it." It's not an order, you can take it or leave it. Hosk seems pleased.
"We'll do what we can, Deegon. I appreciate your help." When we disconnect with the Toydarian, I pull out my comm and raise Leeadra.
"Lee, I've got a cargo for you. Another run to Secundus. The buzz is that the Empire's moving in there soon, so it seemed like maybe a good time to get one last trade in."
There's some background noise as Leeadra answers the comm, "Really? That's great news! What's your cut?" It sounds like she's at a machine shop.
"Cargo's three creds, plus one for the broker. We should be able to trade up pretty significantly. Hosk and I will split the profit down the middle with the Libation. How does that sound?" It'll be tight, but I need to get that crate to Orux. Kriffing Sark.
Leeadra doesn't answer right away. You hear her moving out of the din to where she can hear and talk better, "That's tight for a warzone, Ladro. Can you shoot the details to me on the size of the cargo? Maybe we can pick up a few smaller deliveries to fill out the hold. But hey, it's better than what I've lined up."
"I'll get you the information right away, Lee. Thanks. I'll see you back on the Libation later."
I look to Hosk. "Thanks for the help, partner. I should head to Spungo's. Promised Squall dinner."
The front entrance to Spungo's Bar is a glaring mixture of hastily scrawled graffiti, charred holes from blasters, and a flickering video slab that advertises the name of the establishment. A battered panel door whirs and whines from years of neglect and abuse as it opens entry upon the press of a button.
An open space of roughly 10 by 15 feet serves as the general entry lobby of the bar. Lining the walls of this area are several adverts for a wide assortment of unsavory (and questionably criminal) services. A small puddle of some foul smelling fluid is splattered across the floor to the right of the entrance.
Strangely enough, the identifiable employees of the establishment appear to purposefully walk around this mess rather than cleaning the filth up. As you carefully work your own way around the slippery debris you nearly bump into a few passing patrons, who give you rather dirty looks in return. Surveying the place at this point is painful on the eyes and ears. Loud music, pulsating lights, smoke, and the combined stench from over a dozen different varieties of alien species overwhelm your senses.
Key:
1. Front Entrance
2. Entry Lobby (You Are Here)
3. Booths
4. Stage
5. Holo Dancer Units
6. Holo-Vid Unit
7. Public Lavatories
8. Serving Bar
9. Bartender's Station
10. Employee Lavatory . Changing Room
11. Emergency Exit / Bouncer's Station
12. Back Room Entry
13. Back Exit
At a glance, you don't see Squall at a booth, the bar, or on the dance floor. Well... nobody's on the dance floor, and there's no band playing on stage right now.
What do you do?
Failing Squall, I'll look around for another Rattataki. Squally mentioned that zir cousin works here, so that seems like a good choice. I'll do my looking on the way to the bar. I suspect I should order something strong enough to kill the microorganisms that must be crawling all over the glassware.
I assume you come up to her? She looks up, a rag in one hand, pail in the other. "Hi there, patron," she chirps, obviously sharing some of Squall's personality traits. She picks up the pail, "Need to watch a show?" She wipes off the seat.
I give her a grin. "No show right now, thanks. Do you happen to have a cousin named Squall? I'm supposed to meet zir here around now."
"Great! Hey, Squall didn't mention your name. Ze also didn't say you had such pretty eyes..."
Yeah, the kriffing Empire hanging over my head, contraband cargo to deliver to a war zone, deceiving my crew, and I'm flirting with my shipmate's cousin. It's like therapy, or a massage, or a warm cup of klava.
She gives a bashful little smile and looks slightly away, "It's Par Si'mn." She looks back up at you, "My friends call me Parsi." She smiles this wide smile, that breaks for a moment. She bites her lip, a self-conscious tick, then smiles again, "Thanks. It's... you're really... it's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you, too, Parsi. Where was Squally sitting? And what's safe to order in this place? I'm starving, but it looks like I should be careful. No offense." I'm checking the bar for Blindermin.
"Squally's over in booth eight," Parsi answers as she touches your arm lightly, "Follow me." She walks in front of you. She has a nice little bounce in her step, definitely more girlish than Squall, but less chipper, if that can be read in a walk. She leads you over to an empty booth. You spot Blindermin by the bar, chatting with a Togruta male.
When you have a seat, she leans over a little closer, dropping her voice, "The daily special was made three days ago. You want the Andoolian soup, it's from a can and not too bad. Don't eat the meat here... just don't." She stands up and smiles.
Squall appears near the lavatory, spots you and her cousin and tromps up happily, grabbing a seat across from you. "Hey Ladro, I see you met Parsi. Isn't she sweet?"
Parsi grins at Squall, takes orders, then heads off, advising you she needs to get back to serving.
"Absolutely, Squall. I'd expect nothing less than sweet." I'll take Parsi's suggestion, order the Andoolian soup, but hold off on ordering a drink, saying I want to take a look at what they have behind the bar.
I'll make small talk for a little, comfortably enjoying Squall's energy, before excusing myself to head up to the bar. "Do you want anything while I'm up?"
Squall asks you lots of questions about your ladyfriend, of course. Ze's very interested in who you were looking up, what they are like, how you met. If you want to keep up the pretense by lying to her, I think an Act Under Fire fits, don't you? If you succeed, ze's none the wiser. Fail, and ze doesn't call you out, but Squall knows you're lying.
When you ask if ze wants anything, ze glances down for a moment, then answers, "Gargleblaster, alright?" Ze grins, then lets you go.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 5. Total: 12)
I'm hurting a little inside as I feed Squall my shiniest line of bantha poodoo. My old Twi'lek flame, from before Hosk and I hooked up, Nagili. Just friendly now, but it sure was good to see her and her little girl Iila.
I head to the bar, fetch up next to Blindermin as I pretend to eye the bottles. "What's the least worst thing to drink here, friend?"
"How's the passkey here? I'm really interested in getting one." My voice is lower, still waiting to get the bartender's attention.
Blindermin chats with you for a couple brief exchanges, then shakes your hand, passing you the key. It's a thin keycard, one you'll slip into a door security system.
"Thanks, friend. For the drinks." I take the Gargleblaster and a shot of Wyssic oil with an ale back. Bottle, not tap, and an extra napkin to clean the rim.
"Here you go, Squally. This place isn't so bad, once you get through the grimy, unsavory exterior. The customers are a friendly sort of surly."
Squall snickers, "Heh, sure, Ladro. It's nothing amazing. But it's not awful, either." Ze turns up zir drink, gulping down a mouthful, then puts the glass on the table. "I want to get trashed. Is that okay?" Squall looks at you hopefully, like this is a serious question.
Hearing the tone and looking at zir expression, I'm thinking back, not too far, to encountering Squall with the Spice runners, back on the Smuggler's Moon. I realize I haven't asked how ze's doing, provided any of the support that ze deserves from me.
"Squally, how are you doing, off the spice? You can get as kriffed up as you want, I'll make sure you get back to the Libation."
Squall looks away, like something took zir attention. But you know it's a dodge. "It's not so bad now." ze lies. "Parsi is a party girl, and I know she'll drag me into it. I just wanted you around. Is that okay?"
"She's sweet, Squall, and she's your cousin, I get that. But if she's going to drag you into something you don't want to want to be dragged into, why give her the opportunity?"
I reach across and take Squall's right hand in both of mine, stroking the inside of zir wrist with my thumb. Not flirting, comforting, my eyes showing my concern. "Let me take you dancing, get you drunk, then tuck you in safe back on the Libation, Squally. Don't just sit here waiting to make a mistake."
When you reach for zir hand and take it, you see something just melt in zir. The tension in zir shoulders, around zir eyes, it eases. "Ladro," ze says, squeezing your hand lightly. "I don't want to say no and make a scene. She's... she's my blood. If I say no, she might know I'm weak. I've always been weak in my family's eyes..." Saying the words bring a few tears to zir eyes, which she wipes away with zir free hand. Parsi's across the bar, but you know she'll swing back soon.
I could explain that saying "No" would be the strong choice, here. I could talk about my family, about weakness. I could cajole, or convince.
Instead, I reach into my limited store of Rattataki and pull together a few simple words, hoping the inflection is right. "Erkhem byatskhan naiz, namaig ta nart tuslakh üziye." Dear little friend, let me help you.
Ze smiles a little, squeezing again, for strength. The words trip off zir tongue when she replies with strength you've given zir, "Ladro, Kherev ta " oiryn üyed zürkh setgel mini düüren baina." My heart is so full when you are near.
I squeeze back, then signal to Parsi. When she comes by, I say, "We'll have one more round, sweetheart, and then I've asked Squally to give me a private tour of some of the rest of Trident Vespa's nightlife scene. You don't mind me stealing your cousin, do you? We so rarely get to spend time alone."
I'm trying to gauge Parsi's reaction, determine what it will take for her to let her cousin go for the night.
Oh Squall. If you only knew what a fragile lifeline it is you're clinging to. You deserve a Jedi Knight, but there aren't any, anymore. Or even some sort of Rebel paladin like my brother. Instead, you've got me. Exile. Scum. Liar.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 6, 6. Total: 13)
- What does Parsi wish I'd do?
- How can I get Parsi to let Squall leave with me without making a thing of it?
(one question left for followup)
Parsi's obviously upset. She doesn't really try to hide it, instead immediately asking, "You two are on a karking ship together, don't even try and con me that you never get alone time." She looks to Squall, "Squally, bring me along. I am so kriffing bored. Let's all three go, I can share." She tilts her head and looks at Squall, "Cuz..."
Squall makes this weakening face like Parsi just punched zir in the gut.
Parsi wants you to take her along, get her drunk and/or high, spend creds on her. It's obvious, now that you're looking at her slightly frayed clothes, her slightly sunken eyes. She's dirt poor, a part-time worker in a dunghole of a bar on a ratty space station. Yes, she expects her cousin to take her out partying and do spice and all, but she craves some kind of blitzed out "forgetting" of her life, her lot and her station.
You could bribe her somehow. Offer her someone else to go party with, or some kind of credit that wouldn't be directly paying her off. She's pretty, she could turn tricks if that were something she'd accept.
Ultimately, if you could somehow offer her a real job, some place to live that isn't infested with vermin and seedy scum, that would relieve this entire trap for them both. Good luck with that.
It's time for me to go. Not leave the bar, leave the Libation. I know it is. Every time I start to feel myself as part of a clan however ragtag and mismatched they are, something happens and it blows up. In my face and the faces of everyone else involved.
For a few seconds, I'm balanced on a knife's edge. It's almost like I can see the next two minutes happening two ways at once.
I drop some cred on the table, enough to pay for the food and drink and leave a generous tip for Parsi. I stand, walk to the door and through. I say something to Squall before I go, but I don't know if its 'sorry' or 'good-bye'.
I decide I can keep this under control as long as I'm there. "Parsi, why don't you join us? No spice, though. I have a really bad reaction. Once tried to arm wrestle a Gamorrean. I thought I was a Wookie and it was a sure thing." I give her a wink.
In my mind, a coin flips, an old Kiffar denarius. I'm willing it to come up heads with everything I've got, but my subconscious is a kriffing traitor. Tails.
"Parsi, why don't you join us? No spice, though. I have a really bad reaction. Once tried to arm wrestle a Gamorrean. I thought I was a Wookie and it was a sure thing." I give her a wink.
"Parsi, let's hit Nexus!" Squall says as ze finishes zir drink.
Parsi squeals, "Yes! Guess what? I'm officially off now!"
You leave with the pair of them, each slipping up on either side of you. Squall pulls your arm over her, while Parsi loops her arm into yours and walks a bit more beside you.
A little while later, you're standing outside a synth music club waiting to get to the front behind a few others. The bass thumbs the metal plates under your feet and smoke billows out of cracks in the windows above.
While Squall's chatting with a female Twi'Lek behind you in line, Parsi leans into your ear, lips near earlobe and asks in a whisper, "Are you two kriffing?"
I'm looking forward to the noise and the bodies moving and the light show and the distraction. I relish the bass vibrating the soles of my feet and the attractive beings by my side. I turn to whisper back, "A gentleman never tells, Parsi."
Parsi snarls playfully, then frowns. She glances to see Squall still talking, then whispers back, "Maybe so. But if I kiss you on the dance floor, nice and slow, will ze be really kriffing angry at me?" She opens her mouth and does this crazy tongue undulation, then snaps her lips shut and giggles, like she was teasing.
"Probably. Probably really kriffing angry with me, too. But not because ze and I have..." I make a vaguely suggestive gesture. "Maybe if I kissed both of you..." I laugh. That was clearly a joke, right? I'm playing along. Look at me.
- What's Parsi really feeling?
Parsi gently pokes your chest, and smiles widely, "I'm not kissing zir." And you swear you hear an unspoken "again".
Parsi is feeling a little competitive. She noted how you wanted "alone time", but now you're talking to her, so she's hoping to "steal you away". It's petty and she knows it, but she's also excited to have some company, someone she trusts because she knows Squall trusts you.
She's not at all opposed to sharing you.
Squall slips back under your arm and chirps, "Crash and burn. No brain tails on the menu tonight for this Rattataki." Ze snickers at zir own joke as you reach the doorman. Ze asks, "What've you two been talking about? Did she do the tongue thing, Ladro?"
I squeeze Squall's shoulder and make sure that Parsi is attached to the other arm. "She did, Squally, and you know what it makes me want to do? It makes me want to dance." I tip the doorman and sweep us into the noise and the crowd.
There are strobe and spotlights all across catwalks here. Smoke billows from small areas tucked away in the floor plates, and the din of people talking and yawping and dancing fills the air. There's a constant breeze of air to keep things cool. Parsi takes your hand to pull you onto the dance floor while Squall heads to the bar to get drinks. You see mostly humans and Rodians on the floor. You also spot a cluster of very-alike men with crewcuts sitting at and standing around a horseshoe booth. Your Kiffar senses tell you those are boys-in-white off duty, so best to keep things cool.
After a song, Squall dances in with shiny green drinks, zir drink is actually pulsing and changing color. Ze hands them out, and Parsi throws hers back hard and fast, then holds up the empty glass like a trophy of war and whoops to her heart's content.
I have to ask. Who do you end up dancing with more, and why?
We have a saying, "Ha bilaabin haddii baqin, mar bilaabay ha ka baqin." Don't begin if you're afraid. Once you do begin, don't be afraid. I dance like no one's watching, with both cousins at the same time whenever it's possible, trying to give my attention equally when not, and for a while, with a pair of human women that think my facial markings are "cute".
Truth, though? Parsi commands a little more of my attention. I don't want to disappoint Squall, but I don't want to lead her... zir on any more than I already have.
I'm not a very good person, tonight.
At one point, you're walking Squall off the floor because ze looked like ze was going to fall out. Squall ends up sitting at a chair and relaxing.
When you head back to the dance floor, Parsi is dancing with a Zabrak.
(this guy)
Parsi's occupied, Squall's relaxing. After the first few drinks, I started surreptitiously handing my own green concoctions off to fellow revelers. Need to tire out the kiddies and tuck them in so I can take care of my own business.
While they're doing their own thing for a minute, I seek out the two human women from earlier, hoping they're interested in seeing how a Kiffar moves when he moves sexy. I'll try to keep an eye on Parsi and Squall, just to make sure nothing's out of hand, but I need a few minutes of Ladro time.
After an hour, Parsi's leaving the floor with that Zabrak while Squall is still sitting slumped in zir chair. Oh, there's a Rodian male sitting across from zir. He's doing most of the talking while Squall seems barely aware of him.
Parsi's no worry of mine, but I will excuse myself from D'Nalia and her redheaded friend with a kiss for each, and head to Squall, see if ze's ready for me to get her back to her bunk.
"Squally, ready to call it a night?"
Ze looks up, zir eyes unfocused, blinking slowly. "Wherez Parsss?"
The Rodian looks at you, his large eyes staring, "I will take care of this one." He's wearing a blaster, which is rare here, but not illegal.
I meet his eyes. "No. No, you won't."
"Squall, Parsi's around somewhere. She was dancing with a Zabrak, and they just left the floor. Don't you think it's time for you to bunk down?"
"Why not, human? I have the Rattataki?" the Rodian asks, standing up from the table, hand near his blaster.
Squall speaks up, b>"Kark off, Kizz.... take me home, Ladro."
The Rodian, possibly Kizz, looks at Squall, then back at you, not quite ready to give up his "rpize".
I look at the Rodian. I don't give a pile of poodoo if it's Kizz or karking Grand Moff Drukhead. "Rodian, you don't *have* the Rattataki. Ze came here with me, and ze's leaving with me." One of my knives slides into my hand. "Unless you want to lose an antenna." My eyes are on his stance, ready for him to grab for his blaster.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 1, 4. Total: 6)
Are you heading off with Squall?
I'm making sure Squall gets back to the Libation safe and sound, for sure. As we leave the club, I cast an eye around for Parsi, but we're going now, whether I see her or not.
Squall puts an arm around you and ze walks with rubbery legs out of the club. Once ze hits the air away from the smoke and the din, ze seems to clear up a little. Ze looks up at you, "Ladro, I can make it now. If you wanna go back for... the others. It's zeng. I'll be alright." Squall's probably not lying, ze could get back to the Libation on zir own.
I take Squall's face in my hands, give zir a kiss on the forehead. "Squally, it was fun, dancing with you and Parsi. If you're sure you're okay to get back, and promise me you will, I think I might grab a bite somewhere and go for another round of dancing. I'll walk you, though, if you want."
Of course, the real plan is to grab a certain crate and either get it onto the shuttle or put it somewhere I can have it loaded with the others tomorrow.
"It's alright," Squall says soft as ze looks in your eyes. Ze puts puts zir hands over yours, holding them on zir face. A long moment passes. Ze's wearing a light perfumy scent, something you hadn't noticed until being this close. It's something you mentioned liking a couple months ago, ze's never worn it before.
Ze continues, "I mean... it's alright to kriff Parsi. She's really cute. And... and clean, far as I know."
Squall's eyes. Lee. Hosk. Jojee. Even Seesk, little as I understand her. The Starcrossed Libation herself, with the autochef that sometimes only serves fish stew, the shuttle that Hosk and I have worked so hard to make comfortable. I consider these things and know what a chunk of space rock would feel, if it could feel, upon realizing it is caught in the gravity well of a planet. "Kark me, I'm a meteor. This is going to hurt."
"I'm not going to kriff Parsi, Squall." With another kiss on the forehead, I turn to walk in a random direction, just for the sake of parting, freeing her to head to the ship. Fifty paces or so, and I'll correct course toward the warehouse where Sark's kriffing crate is waiting.
I wonder where Ahji Dar is right now, what sort of trouble she's causing.
Once you're clear of Squall and Parsi, you head past Lane Two to the quonset huts. Down here it's pretty dead. Nobody working, the buildings are secured by locks and a few cameras. You spot a few dead zones pretty easily.
What do you do?
I clock the dead zones, the angles of the camera sweeps. I've been reacting since I got the comm from kriffing Sark. I move around the periphery, taking my time. This time I choose my angle, I choose my approach. Captain Imperial said not to be seen, so I'm not going to be seen.
Once I've mapped out the approaches, planned my angle, I move in.