Liya Tawaza
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 772
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Liya Tawaza on Oct 22, 2017 19:21:38 GMT -8
Malora shot up out of her seat, half wondering when the last time (if there WAS one) anyone was actually this excited to set foot inside The Red Shift's grimy walls as she fastened her gun belt over her hips, hurrying over to the controls near the navigation. "Don't sweat it, Logan, it's just for show," she said as she brushed past Daniel, clapping the man on the shoulder as he fumbled a little with his own belt. She'd lent him one of her lighter blaster pistols, quick and easy to draw, fast on the laser spray, decent for the less inexperienced in close combat. Hopefully, he wouldn't need to use it. "I'll soak up the extra bolts if it comes to that," Mal muttered, leaning over the holo station and working quickly. She'd already given Draykon the green light before arriving at The Skip, and another one when they'd dropped out of Hyperspace… and a message or three somewhere between the first and last asteroid, but another 'Hey, I'm here and on my way,' couldn't hurt. Mal debated taking Wrench with her, but decided against it in the end. It was never a good idea to leave your ship completely unattended on The Skip, no matter how well-secured it was. When the last clip was clipped, buckle buckled, and strap tightened, the trio scrambled down the landing ramp and made for The Red Shift with haste, hopes high. |
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Oct 23, 2017 19:32:21 GMT -8
Neassa nods once Adrien has given them all their orders, and then turns to take up her assigned position near the doors. Dispersing his crew throughout the tavern is a sound tactic in her opinion, especially since they are all new to Adrien's crew and will therefore not be recognized by the friend Adrien is here to meet with friends that may or may not be with her; though Neassa finds Adrien's habit of playing things close to the chest less tactically sound given that he, aside from the not entirely surprising news that his female friend's friends don't like him, provides them all with no information at all about the female friend or her friends. Picking the female friend out will be easy enough, Neassa supposes, when she approaches Adrien; and if the friends are either with her or, as Adrien fears, start shooting when they see him from wherever they might have been positioned by the female friend before she moves in to meet with Adrien, spotting them will be easy enough even though it would have been nice to know who to be watching out for before any potential blaster bolts start flying.
Finding a small table - left unoccupied most likely due to the veritable sea of ale, vomit, and other fluids Neassa does not feel particularly compelled to examine thoroughly, on and around it - near to the door, Neassa stands in the shadows behind the table and uses the specific eye movements and facial tics required to connect her buy'ce's internal comms to the frequency Adrien provided the crew before saying, In position near the door.
No sooner has she reported in than does Neassa hear the doors being flung open to reveal a brunette striding purposefully through them, more or less accompanied by a nebbish, distractable looking male apparently being herded along by a tall, slim female that moves with a watchful intensity Neassa can admire even as she notes it more likely than not makes the tall woman the deadliest of the trio, if, of course, the timing of their arrival coinciding with that of the purposeful brunette means that they are in fact a trio at all.
Humanoid brunette female heading directly for your position Captain, not drawing a weapon on you yet, Neassa warns Adrien dryly as she uses the index finger hooked casually into her utility belt over the blaster holstered on her hip to open the clasp in case she needs to draw the DL-44 quickly, guessing from the fact the woman is making a bee-line for Adrien that she is the friend he has come to meet, and then adds, Tall woman and man in the specs near the door now came in right behind her. They the maybe angry friends that we should be watching?
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Rash Forn
Member
Posts: 9 
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Rash Forn on Oct 26, 2017 5:54:55 GMT -8
A few minutes later, Rashan Forn enters the Red Shift. Already a busy place, by the looks of it. There's a spot by the door -- a rack of sorts -- with an old, hand-painted placard that states 'leave yer weapons here.' The rack is empty, except for some paper waste at the bottom, and a stick leaning against one side. It certainly looks as though it hasn't been used in a long time. Nevertheless, he removes his twin E5's, and hangs the slings over a hook on the rack. He can feel eyes on him, but he feels this act sends a message, if a cursory one, to the room. Of course, he is still very much armed... just less-so. And if this all went as he very much hoped it would, there'd be no trouble.
Walking to the bar, he places his two large, clawed hands atop the smooth surface, and growls to the bar-keep Beer
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Johnathan Castle [Retired]
The Organization
Machines got ta talkin'. I got ta listenin'. Ever since then, I've been fixin'.
Posts: 157
Affiliation: Draykon Crew Mechanic/Bartender Extraordinaire/Organization Mechanic
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Johnathan Castle [Retired] on Oct 26, 2017 7:00:28 GMT -8
...Looking for a crew to join and offer my skills as a mechanic...Silas nodded knowingly. You say you're a mech -- could be I can introduce you to some folks might have need of your services. He tilted the glass back, savouring the taste of the ale. ...I wasn't....coherent enough to fully grasp what was happening at the time...Again, the Preacher nodded, and studied the contents of his glass appraisingly as he spoke, sucking the foamy head off his upper lip. Sure, doesn't the scrip read, "Who do we align ourselves with? Do we align ourselves with the presence of Righteousness as it is abused, broken, bleeding, and mocked and scorned even now in this 'verse? Do we take that one step down, risking violence and guilt by association, to stand beside those who are both victim and accused, and public sinner – criminal and despised?" He looked up after taking another sip, to find Castle's vaguely questioning eyes trained on his, and the traveller made a friendly, dismissive gesture. But let that pass, Castle. I am out of my element, and the ramblings of a backward man mean nothing in this place. Another round of that good ale here, my friend. |
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246 
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Nov 1, 2017 23:39:31 GMT -8
Malora, hurrying as she had been in every word, step and action since the call came through, shoved the door open and entered the cantina at a brisk trot, then charged straight for Draykon's booth without a moment's hesitation. I was more careful, nudging Daniel through the door and then sliding through myself, then pausing to scan the room, with my back to the lefthand doorpost. Over the last few hours, I had come to realize that there would be no stopping Malora from charging into danger, so I didn't even try. Instead, I got ready for whatever trouble her entrance might bring down on our heads. A quick glance around the room told him that Karana wasn't here yet so he would set the stage. He turned to meet the eyes of his crew. "I'm meeting a friend, her friends don't much like me. That's why you're all here. Might be bad for me if she brings them." He looked at Silas and handed him a comlink assuming he didn't have one already, "I want you at the bar." Then to Neassa, "You near the door." Then to Isabelle, "And you just do what you do. Stay close but not too close." He gave a cocky grin before addressing everyone, "I'm on frequency 1129. Don't shoot anyone unless I start shooting." He starts to walk away and then turns back, "Or someone shoots me, then obviously shoot that person. A lot." He walked away and put his comlink in his ear and took his booth. Generally speaking, blowing through the cantina doors like a freshly fired bullet probably wasn't smart; Red Shift clientele were usually more than a little jumpy (and drunk) with a 'shoot first, question later' reaction on a hair trigger. She'd seen a few extra wired bastards blast the bartender for accidentally dropping a glass before. Luckily for Malora And Co., the place was crowded enough to drown out the major impact of the doors crashing back and forth into the walls hard enough to send a dusting of duracrete to the ground. The smuggler had no time for caution. Not today. In fact, she had no time for anything or anyone that wouldn't aid her in her search for Galdaart Fel. The quest for Fel had been running full steam ahead for too long, and they were almost out of runway. They either took off right the fuck now or ended up a wet spot on the wall hurtling towards them. So this? This was kind of, well, it. Adrien Draykon was their only hope here. (Words she never thought she'd think, like, ever.) It took her about two seconds to pick him out, propped up casually in a booth across the room from the entrance. Ade. Her tunnel-vision narrowed even further. Mal charged towards him, blaster secure in its holster, no smile, no naughty glint in her eye, no playful saunter in her step. A normal visit would have gone much differently. Their…relationship was more than a little complicated. In fact, Ade had been something of a rock for her the past few years while the rest of her life had crumbled around her, and she'd served a similar role for him, but the last ten months had seen them fall quiet, communications dwindle with only the occasional message here and there promising a meet-up soon. Had she actually stopped to notice now, maybe she'd have picked up on the set of his shoulders, lacking some of the usual swagger, or the absence of that carefree bravado he usually wore so well. But that selfish, one-track mind thing she was rockin' had put everything and everyone else in the back seat, and until she had Fel in her hands, that's where it was gonna stay. "Where is he?" Standing next to the tabled booth with both hands planted on the sticky surface, Mal leaned in towards Draykon, icy eyes drilling his face for answers. She wasn't hostile about it, just very…focused, breathless, like she was waiting for the end of a long but enthralling holofilm. |
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Orrick Awaud
The Mandalorian Assembly
Posts: 140
Affiliation: Clan Awaud
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Post by Orrick Awaud on Dec 18, 2017 8:20:59 GMT -8
Entering the Red Shift, Orrick gave a polite nod to the Nikto guarding the door. They bore the markings of Vao's Marauders. A reputable name and certainly one you didn't cross if you ever wanted good paying work anywhere in the galaxy. Making his way past the bar where a young human male was pouring drinks and sparking up casual conversation, Orrick made his way to one of the booths near the rear exit of the bar. Sitting down, he folded his hands on the table top, waiting for his contact to arrive. He wasn't here to drink, nor was he here to concern himself with the troubles of the locals. The plight of the locals did little to interest him. And it rarely paid very well. No. Orrick was here for business, and that was it. While he waited, a server droid rolled past his booth and placed a drink on the table.
This drink is complements of the Bothans at the table over there.
And then the droid trundled off to continue its rounds. Orrick glanced over at a large table where a group of Bothans, all disfigured or maimed in some way, lifted their glasses and gave him a nod. Returning the nod, Orrick reached up and released the seals on his helmet. With a hiss and a click, the helmet then was raised off his head, revealing his scarred appearance. Grabbing the glass, he raised it to the Bothans and tipped it back. He let the warm liquid slowly slide down his throat, feeling the burn as it went. Mandalorian Whiskey. And a good age at that. Not bad. Orrick would have to remember to buy a round for the Bothans at some point in the future. But for now, he kept his eye on the door, waiting for his Barabel friend to arrive.
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Post by Erpon Saris on Dec 18, 2017 9:42:30 GMT -8
Entering the dimly lit, smoke filled room, Erpon's eyes adjusted to the poorly lit interior of the cantina quickly. Everyone was drunkenly mingling. Which suited the Barabel just fine. Scanning the crowd, Erpon spotted the grizzled and scarred visage of his Mandalorian contact. Approaching the booth, Erpon seated himself. Observing the Mandalorian, Erpon finally spoke.
"You mentioned something worthy of my skills, Mandalorian. Before I agree to anything, I need details."
His raspy, reptilian voice was low, in a hushed tone, as he tried to speak with Orrick without alerting any possible eavesdroppers. While this job sounded interesting, and the pay certainly made up for it, he wasn't interested in the pay. Compensation for putting one's life on the line was nice, but the challenge of it all, that was why Erpon did what he did.
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Orrick Awaud
The Mandalorian Assembly
Posts: 140
Affiliation: Clan Awaud
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Post by Orrick Awaud on Dec 19, 2017 13:49:38 GMT -8
Now sitting with his helmet seated on the bench to his right, Orrick continued to observe the Red Shift's occupants. Nothing noteworthy, at least until the Barabel walked in. Erpon Saris, the famed tracker and hunter. Well earned in most cases. As the reptile sat down and spoke to him, Orrick smirked.
"Trust me, you'll be agreeing before this conversation is over. I'll guarantee it."
While Orrick didn't know Saris really well, he knew him well enough to know that he enjoyed a challenging hunt. And this was most likely going to be the most challenging hunt the Barabel had ever partaken in. But Orrick wasn't in a rush. He felt like stringing the Barabel along for a bit, keep him guessing, before spilling the juicy parts. Besides, Orrick has a feeling that a good friend would be showing up soon as well. When looking for lucrative and well paying work, his brother had a knack for turning up shortly after Orrick took a job. So far, the times he turned up out of nowhere were more numerous than the times he had actually learned of a job the legitimate way. Either way, he was waiting for one more person to show up before he explained the details and they started brainstorming a way to execute their plan...
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Henoc Awaud
The Mandalorian Assembly
Posts: 52
Affiliation: Clan Awaud
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Post by Henoc Awaud on Dec 19, 2017 15:28:09 GMT -8
With entering the Red Shift, Henoc passed a Nikto who was guarding the door. This Niko bore the markings of the Vao Marauders, even though Henoc hadn't really kept an eye on the underground world he still knew who Vao was. It would be best if he didn't do anything stupid to draw the guard's attention. As Henoc walked further in he noticed a man with armor boring his clan's markings, once closer he could tell that it was only his older brother. Henoc smirked underneath his helmet, he then noticed that his brother was talking to a Barabel most likely about a job. Henoc walked towards his brother and the Barabel and took a seat next to his brother, while removing his helmet and setting it on the table of the booth he proceeded to give his older brother a friendly insult.
"Damn, you have a face only a Mother could love"
With that Henoc motioned to the service droid to get him what his brother was having. His gut was telling him that whatever happened next would be extremely fun and difficult, and that excited him deeply. Henoc couldn't remember the last time him and his brother got into a little trouble.
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Orrick Awaud
The Mandalorian Assembly
Posts: 140
Affiliation: Clan Awaud
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Post by Orrick Awaud on Dec 19, 2017 20:45:44 GMT -8
As he waited for the Barabel's reaction to what he had last said, another Mandalorian entered the Shift, sporting the markings of Clan Awaud. Sure enough, like clock work, his brother had managed to find him. He'd have to give his ship another sweep for hidden tracers and changed the encryption on his comm frequency. But, despite his minor annoyance at his brother's arrival, he wouldn't turn down the extra set of blasters. Especially given the target he was to apprehend. And then came the comment. Taking another swig from his glass, he swallowed it and without looking at his brother, fired back his retort.
"Clearly you haven't looked in a mirror lately, have ya, scar-face?"
There was no hiding the fact that Orrick himself, sported some very defining scars on his face. Disfiguring, some might even say. But his brother...well his brother was fortunate to still be walking and talking, given his ragged appearance. Such was the price one eventually paid in this line of work, however. If you went through life as a mercenary without a few scars, you were doing it wrong. As the server droid came back with another drink for himself and his brother, he raised his glass to his brother.
"Aay'han"
A simple, but powerful term. 'Remembering and Celebrating' was the translation to basic. Henoc would understand what he meant by that. Returning his focus to the Barabel, he waited to see the reptile's response.
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Adrien Draykon
Retired High Councilor 
The Smuggler King
Posts: 720
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Adrien Draykon on Jan 31, 2018 4:40:47 GMT -8
Once everyone had checked in, with the exception of Isabelle who seemed to vanish as she did, Adrien turned his attention to the nearest waitress and waved her over. "Dorian Quill...two." He ordered as soon as she came to his table. He could tell that despite him being short with her that she was relieved to not have someone cat calling or grabbing her as often happened in places like these. When she asked if he needed a menu he simply said, "No, thank you." And offered her a small grin as she turned and walked away. He waited quietly afterward, staring at the empty seat across from him and all he could think was that Connie should be sitting there with him but instead she's hidden away, frozen in some tube because he led her into a fight he knew they had no business being in. He should have dropped those slaves somewhere safe and been done with it, then she would be fine, sitting here laughing. He was so lost in thought that when the waitress came back he didn't even notice her setting the glasses down on the table, she had come and gone and he never realized what had happened, it wasn't until Neassa reported some activity at the door that he snapped out of his trance. He looked to see Karana making a beeline right toward him and then glanced past her to see Liya and some other guy. Yep. He answered as subtly as he could before he noticed his drink sitting there. He took up the glass and drank as Karana reached his table. "Where is he?" Standing next to the tabled booth with both hands planted on the sticky surface, Mal leaned in towards Draykon, icy eyes drilling his face for answers. She wasn't hostile about it, just very…focused, breathless, like she was waiting for the end of a long but enthralling holofilm. When he looked up at her he could see it in her eyes, she didn't see him, not this time. She only saw a contact, someone with information she needed. Unlike any encounter they'd had before. He paused for a moment then took another drink of his whiskey and set his glass down, he wasn't really sure how to answer the question or what he had said in his message to make her think that he knew exactly where to find Fel but he had no idea where Fel was. His eyes left hers and he looked down at the table with just a hint of irritation. "Well hello to you too. I ordered you a drink." |
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Jan 31, 2018 15:52:23 GMT -8
Malora grit her teeth. "Ade, I don't have--…." The time. She didn't have the time to sit and drink and smile and trade stories with her old best friend. She wanted her information, she wanted to find Fel and finish this so she could finally breathe again because at this point, every moment that wasn't spent on furthering her goal felt like suffocating and she was tired of it. They all were. The drain on her friends had been just as significant as it was on her. He knew that. He knew where she was mentally with all this. So why wasn't he feeling cooperative to her? Of course, if she'd stopped to be human for a moment and remove her head from her single-minded rear, maybe she'd remember Adrien Draykon was her friend, too, and she wasn't the only one with problems. Realizing this wasn't a situation she could just muscle through, Mal paused, sighed, reeled herself in a little, and sat down opposite the proclaimed Smuggler King in a barely controlled manner. The trouble-maker tossed back the whole glass of whiskey in one desperate swig, wincing at the burn in her skull. She sat in silence for a moment, obviously trying very hard not to reach across the table and shake him until the answers she wanted spilled from his mouth. Jaw set, she moved her glass out of the way and stared him down once more. This time, she wore a smile. It was a little too wide to be genuine. "Thanks for the drink. And how are things with you?" |
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Liya Tawaza
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 772
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Liya Tawaza on Feb 2, 2018 19:58:33 GMT -8
I was just barely far enough out of earshot not to catch Ade's exact words, but as Malora Karana Malora took a seat across from our old 'friend' Adrien Draykon turned contact, my left hand fell away from my gun belt. I still didn't trust the situation, not with how desperate our crew had become over the last few months, but it seemed there was going to be a bit of drinking and talking before the shooting started. Still, I wouldn't be taking my eyes off those two anytime soon. 'Lora was already as riled up as I'd ever seen her, and Ade had a bad habit way of pushing her buttons. I hoped he was smart enough to avoid scratching that personal itch until after the information exchange was complete. Otherwise, someone was going to get chilled for sure.From my vantage point by the door, I began to look for the rest of Ade's crew --- or anyone else who might prove dangerous if things ended the way I expected. So far, there were no familiar faces in sight, but there was no way Draykon would dare to meet us alone. Somewhere among the strangers filling the disreputable establishment were his allies. Until proven otherwise, everyone was a suspect, to be assessed as a threat, and monitored or ignored accordingly.The closest danger was a female Mandalorian @neassawhelan in red armor seated on the other side of the door from me, at an absolutely filthy table. Chances were she probably wasn't with Draykon, but no one would sit in such a foul place unless they were there for tactical reasons, so she quickly went to the top of my threat list. One of the bartenders, a muscular man Johnathan Castle [Retired] with shaggy blond hair, also went on the list. He looked like he could handle himself, and was more suited to manual labor than to serving drinks. He might be a plant, or he might be an ally in keeping order. It was impossible to know until the fighting started. Likewise I noted the wolfish Shistavanen Rash Forn with his dangerous claws, and a few other suspicious characters.But it was the Mando that bothered me most. I tried not to make eye contact as I wondered once more whether the Mandalorians had a kill order out on me. If they knew what happened, and that was a big if, they weren't likely to be nearly as forgiving as the Bounty Hunters' League had been.
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Preacher
Member
One step closer.
Posts: 318
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Preacher on Feb 3, 2018 20:39:14 GMT -8
At the mention of someone needing his services, his eyes lit up. Not that being a temporary bar tender was boring, but it wasn't his calling. He preferred to feel the thrum of engines beneath his feet, the hum of the O2 scrubbers and the faintly metallic scent of a ship's air. The creak of bulkheads and the shift in gravity as the momentum dampeners kicked in was his idea of home."I would certainly appreciate if you could put the word out, Silas. I've been stuck here far longer than I'd prefer to be."Filling another glass for Silas, he slid it over to the man as another large and rather intimidating looking sentient approached the bar and growled for a beer. Castle was well versed in many of the species that liked to frequent the Shift, but this creature was something else entirely. Walking over to the cooler, he opened the door, grabbed a beer for the being, popped the top and walked back over to the furry sentient."Can I get you anything else?"He wanted to speak with Silas more. Learn what sort of ship he traveled on and who he traveled with. But his responsibilities as a bar tender came first. Hopefully the large sentient would be content with a beer for now. Any kind of work in particular you'd rather opt out of, friend? It'd help me to know who I should put the word out to, if I knew what kind of a crew you felt yourself best suited to... |
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Johnathan Castle [Retired]
The Organization
Machines got ta talkin'. I got ta listenin'. Ever since then, I've been fixin'.
Posts: 157
Affiliation: Draykon Crew Mechanic/Bartender Extraordinaire/Organization Mechanic
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Johnathan Castle [Retired] on Feb 4, 2018 10:14:29 GMT -8
Being seemingly ignored by the furry creature that had ordered a beer, Castle shrugged off the being's silence as a sign of wanting to drink in peace. Knowing the usual sort of patrons this place attracted, Castle moved back to the man known as Silas. As he made his way back over to him, he took note of the two red and black armored Mandalorians and the reptillian Barabel that had entered a few moments ago and seated themselves as far out of the main bustle of the crowd as possible. Since the change in protection around the Red Shift, Castle was confident he had nothing to worry about. Vao's Marauders were the bouncers around the Shift now. And Vao himself had a bit of a soft spot for Castle. Since Castle wasn't a fighter, at least not in every sense of the word, the added protection was a nice comfort. He could throw down, if the need arose, and he was more than capable of blasting a hole in any sentient that warranted it, but his main area of expertise was fixing things. Starships in particular. Listening to Silas speak as he approached the man again, he smirked.
"Silas, I can completely rebuild a T65 X-Wing powerplant from scratch. I can patch bleeding shield generators and completely overhaul grav boots on the fly. I've memorized the optimum accleration for sublight engines on most Corellian vessels, and I know how to scramble ident tags to remain undetected from the authorities. I've provided maintenance for several smugglers and freighter captains in the 'verse. Most of the buckets around here keep me busy enough to not concern myself with the more...lucrative business dealings of smugglers. As long as innocents aren't put in danger because of what the Captain hauls around, I'm game for anything."
He tossed Silas a lopsided grin. He wasn't boasting or trying to inflate his ego. He was merely stating fact. He had a knack for machines. Simple as that. Where most mechanics and engineers would run into a snag and waste time trying to figure it out, Castle knew how to create bypasses and ensure that whatever ship he was serving on could remain operational. Usually while it was still in flight. Because let's face it, over ninety percent of the smugglers around here rarely landed anywhere unless they absolutely needed to. Hazards of the occupation.
"So, what kind of ship are you currently serving on, friend?"
Castle rarely managed to get down to the docks these days. Working at the Shift took up most of his time. Which was fine, for the time being. So he was largely unaware of what ships were currently passing through and which were regulars to frequent the Run.
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Preacher
Member
One step closer.
Posts: 318
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Preacher on Feb 4, 2018 18:25:10 GMT -8
Silas looked as clued-in as he could, but the fact was, much of what the barkeep had said was an alien language to him. Grav boots? Did those go on your feet? A T65-X-what?
"So, what kind of ship are you currently serving on, friend?"
Uh... it's... small. And dirty. But honourable. I'll put in a word with my captain... checking over his shoulder, and speaking this next bit under his breath once he isn't being accosted by the Raven...
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Johnathan Castle [Retired]
The Organization
Machines got ta talkin'. I got ta listenin'. Ever since then, I've been fixin'.
Posts: 157
Affiliation: Draykon Crew Mechanic/Bartender Extraordinaire/Organization Mechanic
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Johnathan Castle [Retired] on Feb 5, 2018 8:30:20 GMT -8
Castle watched Silas closely. He certainly was an interesting individual. A little odd, and there was something strange about him. And not strange like 'I'm doing something illegal, mind your own business', but more along the lines of 'I haven't the foggiest of what you are talking about, but I'll humor you' kind of strange. There was something honourable about the man before him. Like he didn't entirely belong with the mix of seedy and nefarious crowd he chose to follow. Either way, as soon as Silas finishd speaking, Castle couldn't help but laugh. His face split into a grin and he let loose a hearty laugh.
"Everything I just said went over your head, didn't it?"
Turning around, Castle filled a fresh glass for the man and slid it across the bar to him.
"Don't worry about it. Most of the things I say when it comes to my chosen profession are over people's heads. All they care about is as long as it gets you from point A to point B in one piece, it's good enough. Basically, to make it simple for you, whatever it is you are sailing on, there is a good chance I can fix it. Haven't come across anything that I couldn't fix...yet. I'd appreciate you putting the word in. As fun as it can be, interacting with the locals, I'd like to be flying again."
Castle glanced up from his conversation with Silas, taking note of the serving droids and waitresses, and all the patrons still within the Shift. So far, everything was still relatively calm. But it was still early. Things could get out of hand yet. But hopefully it wouldn't happen until his shift was over.
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Preacher
Member
One step closer.
Posts: 318
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Preacher on Feb 5, 2018 13:14:20 GMT -8
Silas seriously considered asking the young man if he'd heard many stories of ships getting from point A to point B in several pieces... it didn't seem the preferred method. But then he imagined (rightly so?) that Castle was joking, and so he smiled conspiratorially, the inference being that they were, again, on the same page, when the truth was, Silas was still out of his depth.
"...I'd like to be flying again."
That makes one of us, Mr. Castle. I don't exactly want to be here... wherever here is... but I most certainly would rather not be out there. waving a hand in such a way that the 'sky' is referenced When are you available to ship out?
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Isabelle Eoura
The Organization
"Be one with the shadows."
Posts: 192
Affiliation: The Draykon Crew...for now
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Isabelle Eoura on Feb 6, 2018 8:58:07 GMT -8
A dimly lit corner of the bar was the perfect place for Isabelle to hide and observe the room. In a place like this you could always trust that there were at least a few spots where the lights would be poorly maintained which Isabelle always tried to use to her benefit. In fact it seemed as though she had gone completely unnoticed since she stepped foot in the bar, even by her crew, but that was her intention of course. With all of the modifications to her jumpsuit it was difficult to see her at all in the dark and she was essentially invisible to sensors for the same reason. She didn't even participate in the chatter amongst the crew, not daring to expose herself any further than she already had just by walking in to a place like this.
For the most part it was quiet, she eyed Silas at the bar talking the bartender.
They seem to be engrossed in quite the conversation. Odd. Silas doesn't seem like the type people would be interested in talking to. At least not to most people, I think he'll be boundlessly entertaining for me.
Her eyes then found their way to Neassa just sitting there like a guard dog, a task that was infinitely beneath her.
I selected her to lead a highly specialized team on a mission of the utmost importance to the entire galaxy and now she sits there like some bouncer at a nightclub. She's better than this, all of this.
She resisted the urge to shake her head at the irony that she too was doing the same thing but at least not at the door and soon found herself staring at Adrien, sitting alone waiting for this contact of his.
What was I thinking getting involved with this guy? His record shows that he's flighty at best; at worst--well, I just hope he proves me wrong. I've got too much at stake to bet on the wrong fathier. She won't stop looking for me this time, how could I be so stupid?---Neassa trusts this guy right? Or at least trusts people that trust him? When did that become good enough?
Isabelle never liked the idea of relying on anyone, least of all men. But what was she to do? Where else was she to go? She had only one escape route on Naboo and Kessel. She was grateful that they had saved her, twice now, but she couldn't help but to wonder if this was the wrong move and only time would tell. For now she needed to keep her head in the game, and it appeared as though this contact of Adrien's had just walked in the door.
She's pretty. I can see why he was so anxious to meet her in person instead of just giving her what she needed in a message. Still? Why take the chance? What isn't he telling us?
Her attention was diverted back to the door as a man was pushed through.
Looks like Adrien's girlfriend didn't come alone. He's cute, but out of place and he looks familiar. Someone from M's database perhaps?----------Logan. Dr. Daniel Logan, he was on the short list for the Perses Project recruits, what's he doing here? With these people? Who's behind him?
As Dr. Logan begrudgingly moved further inside, the woman behind him came into clearer view.
"Liya?"
The shock of seeing her old partner forced her to unconsciously blurt out her name, she spoke softly, probably not enough to carry over the noise from the bar. As far as Isabelle knew Liya was dead. After they had split up she could only keep tabs on Liya through rumors and mutual contacts and then there was nothing. Even when Isabelle joined the Organization she couldn't find any recent information on her old friend...
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Johnathan Castle [Retired]
The Organization
Machines got ta talkin'. I got ta listenin'. Ever since then, I've been fixin'.
Posts: 157
Affiliation: Draykon Crew Mechanic/Bartender Extraordinaire/Organization Mechanic
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Johnathan Castle [Retired] on Feb 6, 2018 11:17:53 GMT -8
Castle busied himself with pulling the clean glasses and mugs out of the washing station at the end of the bar, checking them over, then placing them in their respective places. By the sounds of it, Silas wasn't a huge fan of flying. Mind you, with the odd feeling he was getting from the man, it seemed as though a lot of things were foreign to him. After placing the last of the clean glasses away, Castle turned back to Silas, while preparing a few more drinks to be taken out to the patrons.
"You are in the back end of nowhere, my friend. If you ever wanted to disappear from the rest of the galaxy, this is the place to come to..."
Castle chuckled softly, finding it rather amusing that he was still here. Not that he was running from anything, but this is where he always seemed to end up when out of the job. Aedon, Jerrak and a few others had always been good to him, though. Being a mechanic of his caliber afforded him a few of the simplier luxuries a place like the Run could afford. His attention was grabbed as several people entered the bar. A respectable looking individual with glasses. He definitely didn't belong here. And then, a rather attractive female. Another perk of the job. Attractive women often frequented the Shift, though most of them we either running from something, hunting someone or were dangerous enough to hurt you in all the right ways. Castle was always polite to them and offered them the respect and space they deserved. The female Mandalorian seated at one of the still dirty tables had grabbed his interest, as had the arrival of the redhead off to the side. Had he not glanced up when he did, he wouldn't have seen her come in at all. Sizing them all up and determining that they were here for something other than trouble, Castle returned his attentions to Silas.
"You don't seem to fond of being on a ship. If I'm on the same ship as you, you've got nothing to worry about. Any of the reputable smugglers here run a decent ship. It's the small time guys you have to watch out for..."
He trailed off for a moment, remembering a time he had shipped out with a traveling merchant and an ex-con. That had been a bad decision. Pushing that memory from his mind, he replied to Silas' question.
"I'm always ready to ship out. Wrench jockeys are in high demand around here. Always gotta be prepared to take off in a moment's notice."
Castle was always prepared to head out with the next crew willing to treat him right and not take advantage of his talents. Though in this case, he was prepared simply because he wanted to get away from the Run for a while. So far, no reasonable offers had come his way. However, things could change, if this Silas fellow was a man of his word.
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