STAR WARS



Yora's wibbling lower lip slurred her next words to the hooded woman, "O-oh... then... at least it meant you didn't rip the bag on purpose but..." I needed those four bags of sugar! Yora screamed inside her head. Well prepared this time around, she reached into her sleeve and produced a 1/3 cup and very, very carefully measured off each cupful of sugar that was laying on the street to keep track of the amount that was salvaged. Her hearts were still thumping in her chest but had evened out in tempo if not in speed with each 1/3 cup she salvaged. Things were somehow beginning to look up on the cupcake situation making Yora's despairing frown morph into a hopeful smile.

So concentrated on carefully measuring off and picking out the 'clean' sugar Yora didn't notice the stranger-woman wave off a Wookiee and excuse herself from the situation. What counted most to Yora was the hope the last bag of sugar was still intact and that she be able to recover at the minimum half the bag plus a 1/2 cup of the sugar on the street. There was also the situation of the last missing sack of flour somewhere between where she was and the dock gates. She shot the landspeeder a quick look just to make sure the crate holding the rest of the recovered materials was still there and her unbelievable good fortune was real. The brilliant color of her race was returning to the tips of the tendrils as the anxiety shriveled in her stomach with each delicately poured 1/3 cup of sugar.

She even began to whistle while she worked.

 
The dark figure had watched Lan's actions from a vantage point across the street until the man finally departed in a speeder. It seemed that he would need to get his hands on some sort of transportation, which had already been taken care of earlier on his way to the TLI HQ. Purchased from an owner who had been intimidated into lowering the price from sheer presence of the dark Mandalorian. After all he needed to be prepared to get in a hot pursuit of any potential targets of interest. Or even potential enemies.

Cobier had chosen a speeder bike which was likely some strange ancestor of the FC-20 model. Only this one had an interesting handlebar orientation of custom origin. The hand controls were either two-handed, or could meld together into a one-handed formation to allow the single pilot a free hand for whatever reason. Suiting his personal tastes even more, it was already black. Perhaps if it lasted long enough some yellow might be added just to customize it further.

Either way, this was the vehicle tailing Lan through the traffic.

Dodging both the attention of his quarry and the somewhat hectic habits of fellow drivers, he eventually reached the place called Arlen's. Using the force certainly aided the dark clad Mandalorian in keeping track of the unique 'feel' that Lan possessed. Pink signs tended to stick out too, compared to other places which tended to use colors that were more gender neutral. Then again if one knew what race Cobier truly was. . . it was debatable whether or not he could see the color of that sign.

Parking in a landing space close to an entrance, Cobier quickly exited the single-person craft and entered the bar without a moment's hesitation. Only once did the bouncer attempt to halt him, gazing at the visor which would never allow a peek inside. Even though he could not see the eyes within the Mandalorian helmet, he suddenly imagined their being a pair of violent violet eyes which paralyzed him with fear. Needless to say he backed off rather fast. In a way it might appear the Mando had arrived only about a minute or less after Lan. For the merchant, that meant he was not only fast but skilled at remaining out of sight. Someone that no one wanted chasing after them with intent to kill.

He took a seat across from Lan.

"Your competitors are making certain risky. . . unlawful investments in an attempt to seize your clients for themselves. Care to know more?"
 

Lan narrowed his eyes at the arrival of his anonymous Mandalorian shadow, noting that there hadn't seemed to be very much delay in him following. Lan hadn't been able to spot the Mando as they were flying, either... rather typical, under the circumstances. He wordlessly pushed one of the Sarian Sandrippers towards the shadow, then halted mid way as though he forgot something. Without breaking eye contact-- such as it was-- he raised the glass and took a sip from it to demonstrate the lack of poison, then set the drink back upon the table in front of his companion.

"Your competitors are making certain risky. . . unlawful investments in an attempt to seize your clients for themselves. Care to know more?" Lan nursed his own drink wordlessly as he listened.

"Oh, most assuredly... you have my rapt attention, whatever your name is or whoever you care to be." He took another drink of Sandripper, thumbing some of the condensation from the glass idly. "But what I'd really love to know is what you stand to gain from telling me anything. What is it that you want for this... gift?"

Lan settled back against the booth cushions and studied the Mandalorian a little more carefully, now that they were in semi-decent lighting. For a Mando, he decided that this one must be a runt. There was something odd about the armor, almost as though it had originally been crafted for someone else. The Mando himself, well... he lacked some of the typical robustness that was a customary side effect for Mandalorians and their psychotic war-culture. Lan didn't have much more time to stare, however, as the Mandalorian spoke again...
 
"[No, I don't have a translator right now... but on the other hand I probably couldn't afford one.]" Rowrrooko said as he studied the hooded girl, letting out a small chuckle. "[I can't imagine that the Republic is going to give a Jedi they thought was dead any money. Although...]"

He again dug into his pockets and pulled out his old, tired vox-box, holding it out almost as a display of a device long past its prime. "[I could use a new one of these, at least.]"

He leaned forward to get a better look at her face, as opposed to the edge of her hood, and did his best not to squint into the darkness, though he could see her blindfold. Things fell into place, and he dug a name out of dusty memories from the Jedi Library, gingerly bringing it to the surface.

"[You're a Miraluka.]" He said bluntly, although his tone bespoke more of a sense of awe and respect than xenophobia. "[Now I understand what lead me here. I've always wondered what it would be like to see the galaxy through the Force at all times. Gives an old Wookie like me something to think about while I'm being old.]"

"[Where are my manners.]" He said with a shake of his head, reminding himself to be civil. "[Rowrrooko. An old Jedi returning to a new galaxy. Thank you for knowing Shryiiwook.]"
 
Utilizing the force minutely during their conversation, the pseudo-Mandalorian started to sense a growing distrust from the potential client. Or pawn, depending on perspectives. Fear for the future had sunken just deeply enough however, that the hook was still into Lan for the information. It was time to lay down most of his cards on the table. But not quite all of them. Not now.

"All I want for this information, is some money and a job. You see. . . if you go to the authorities with the information I'm about to give you, those under-handed competitors will catch wind of it as well. They have connections. But if you hire me to take care of what will happen tonight. . ."

One could feel the devious smile in his words for the next sentence.

". . . I will make it such a spectacle that it will be in tomorrow's headlines instead of this stupid ongoing war between the force users. And you'll need that. To bring them to justice you must have the entire public aware of what they've done. Or they'll bury you in lawyers and lies."

A pause came, as he needed to present one of the other options available to the Merchant once he possessed the information. The smile had vanished from his distorted voice and turned into a brief chuckle that faded out quickly as he spoke up again.

". . . Or I can go in there tonight and bring them all into line. Make them answer to you for fear of their reputations getting blackened by scandal. Their dirty dealings won't come to light and you could simply blackmail them all into bankruptcy."

Cobier had not taken a drink, nor did he plan to at all for a while. Right now was a time for business, since the pleasure of battle would come later if he was successful now. That was what truly mattered among other things. Lan had to end up convinced by the end of this little chat. Partly since. . . well he actually would suffer financialy if he did not deal with his competitors in their current state.

"Before I tell you what's really going on though, I'd like to explain why I chose to come to you at all. I'm sure that's at least one of the questions burning in your mind somewhere. The reason is that out of all the businesses who had formed into this little alliance, they chose not to include yours. Something about that makes me think they want you gone. And then I wonder why they want you gone."

A black clad hand came to prop up the chin concealed within the helmet that rested on it.

"On the surface your dealings look just the same as theirs. Which means whatever makes you different is something that comes from inside you. Personally, I think they're afraid of you."


And I like fear. . .

The thought went though his mind with a cerebral chuckle, though it was kept under control. Last night had been proof enough there were Jedi lurking on this station. No need to alert them to his presence just by a single thought. In case they were listening, anyway.

"By the way, you can call me Clypeus."
 
Kira nodded knowingly as the wookiee retrieved his vox-box. "I'm sure we could find you another, and newer one that would be more suited to your needs." She looked back at the woman carefully scooping the sugar into a bag with a slight frown but when she looked back she noticed the wookiee looking under her hood. She shrank back a little bit, trying to hide the bandages but it seemed to be too late for that.

"Er, yes, I am as you say...and seeing the world the way I do, I'm sure, is something you could learn in time, or maybe you will have to learn it should your eyes go bad..." She tried to keep her voice down when speaking about herself, lest the baker hear her speech. She bowed deeply when the wookiee introduced himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you Master Rowrrooko, I am Kira Quanera. And I am willing to help you with anything you should need for the next couple of hours or so, I unfortunately must do some tune ups on my swoop bike and find the hotel I'll be staying in before nightfall." The smile hadn't faded but Kira felt guilty if she couldn't help find him at least someone to translate for him, or maybe she could invite him along to see her swoop race.
 

Lan's eyes narrowed slightly as he listened, his vision locked upon the Mandalorian sitting across from him. His expression however was a stony mask. He looked neither pleased nor displeased by what he was hearing, which could have meant one of a few things for his Mandalorian friend. He took note of how careful the shadow was not to divulge anything truly substantial. It was then that Lan decided he was going to play things his own way, or not at all.

"On the surface your dealings look just the same as theirs. Which means whatever makes you different is something that comes from inside you. Personally, I think they're afraid of you." Lan had to smile at this. It was a weak secret that his competition harbored a lingering hatred and distrust for his company, in lieu of many of Lan's past business moves which had put them all into compromising positions. But in truth, he hadn't done it all on his own... and no one needed to know that right now.

"Heh... well, I can't say that I'm displeased to have your patronage, Clypeus," The Mando's name had struck Lan as odd. "But you should know that I do not send people under my employ to do things that I am not explicitly aware of. We can talk about what it is you propose to do all day long, but the bottom line is that you still haven't told me what they are planning... and while I'm curious what they have up their sleeve, I'm also aware that this whole situation has affected at least some of them more than it has me."

Lan leaned forward slightly. "We can do business, if you decide to come clean with whatever it is you're keeping in your pocket. Rest assured, whether you're on for a long haul or just here for a task, I'll have you taken care of properly. But tell me why I would send you to cause chaos and wreck their establishment, when I'm perfectly content to bleed them of their funds while they scrabble around playing shadow games."
 
He sighed openly, acting the part of being just a little defeated by Lan's attempt to take control of their dealings. So many were the ways he could truly strike fear into this Merchant sitting here in this tiny bar. Illusions that could break his mind or at least give it few cracks. But then what use would that be? Plus everyone would chase after him at once or something. Uniting this entire station against one person. . . that was not something that needed to happen.

"Your competitors are working in deeper with the smugglers than they ever have before. And they've utilized their spies within your company in a plan to bring you down by not only delivering merchandise illegally, but using your records to deliver it to your clients. Not just a few big ones. Not a few small ones you wouldn't notice. All of them. One large operation that is supposed to happen so swiftly that you would be left with your head spinning until it left you dizzy enough to fall down in the ruins of what used to be your company."

After that he stayed silent for about half a minute just to let it all sink in before tapping the table with his pointer finger. Just needed to make sure he grabbed the man's attention out of whatever emotion or train of thought that explanation would push him into. Even for a stoic man, learning of such a scheme would make their blood boil.

"Then they plan to use the profits from what they've done to buy everything up that was yours at a price cheaper than Tatooine sand. Don't you see it Lan? While the current situation may have hurt them more than you. . . they intend to use your downfall to fix all that."

Leaning back in his seat, both arms stretched out as if he had just told a sweet bedtime story to a child and could sip a soothing drink right now. Of course deep down Cobier felt that such a traitorous cabal would eventually destroy itself from within. But he wanted to break with how these ordeals traditionally went. Instead of letting the dupe be duped and then watch the pieces fall apart. . . he wanted to see what the dupe would do given the chance to fight back.
 

"Then they plan to use the profits from what they've done to buy everything up that was yours at a price cheaper than Tatooine sand. Don't you see it Lan? While the current situation may have hurt them more than you. . . they intend to use your downfall to fix all that."

Lan's face was still a mask of unbiased ambiguity, but he wordlessly reached into his jacket to produce his lighter with a cigarra. He lit the tabac and blew a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth, out of consideration for his new acquaintance. Lan was no weak minded fool. He was fully aware that the Mandalorian had finally come straight with him... for the most part. More importantly, he knew that even if he didn't take the Mando up on his offer that he still had his trump card in reserve. If it could be called "his." A smile crept over Lan's lips as he considered his response.

"Clypeus, I'm touched by your honesty." He sort of was, but not really. He felt that the information the Mando was giving him was far from complete, though what was missing, Lan had no idea... yet. "I don't see why it wouldn't hurt to go shake their foundations a bit. But I'm not a mindless murderer. We'll simply start with the largest out of the bunch."

Lan's expression turned cruel and ruthless in the dim lighting of the establishment as he rested his elbows upon the table. "I take it you're familiar with Argan & Denassi Corporation? If there's ever a ring leader to any scheme where the spear tip is pointed in my direction, it would be them. If you'd be willing to pay them a severe visit, I'd be willing to compensate you. That should put enough doubt in their minds to consider what my game truly is. Price is negotiable, depending on the nature of the party you throw of course. We could do dinner afterwards to discuss it. What do you say, 'Clypeus'?"

There was something unnervingly piercing about Lan's eyes at that moment, poor night vision or not.
 
The funny thing about Lan's piercing gaze, was that if it had been on purpose it would get him nowhere. Beneath that oh-so-recognizable helmet there were no eyes with which to see it. All that was truly distinguishable about Lan from another humanoid was the amount of force energy he gave off mixed with a strange yet clear outline of his features. It truly was an interesting way to look at the world. However the Sith Saber could sense the Merchant Master's feelings quite well and took a dark inspiration from the cruel and ruthless emotions. Much more would be needed if one ever wanted to try unsettling a Sith Saber with his past.

"I would have to say that I have not told you the when of their operation. Mostly out of concern that if you know everything you might still give this job to someone else. I want this job. But I feel you don't quite grasp the situation enough. And that information might change your outlook just slightly."

This was one of the few cards he had left aside from disclosing exactly WHERE it would all go down. Of course then there was the fact he could reveal himself as a Sith or at least a force user. But that did not need to happen just yet. A little secret or two certainly needed to be kept from such an influential man. Especially after Lan had proven himself not to be a complete fool. Now it was time for the slightly hard sell of truth. . . to put a little immediacy into their dealings.

"The operation happens tonight."

Cobier let that sink in just a few seconds.

"If you still want to go after just one, then I'm perfectly fine with throwing a killer party at the Argan & Denassi Corporation today. But tonight might still happen out of spite if the rest are left intact. I leave the decision to you."
 
Lia'ry was a good woman. She tended to him, doted upon him, despite her background. She should be loathe to do those things, but for Fynn? She was happy to do them. It put a small smile on his face, hidden from her gaze. He would never tell her how much he appreciated it. Why should he have to? He showed it to her every moment of every day.

Fynn finished with the green armour-plates and began going through last-minute checks across his beskar'gam. The tazer attachment was online, a tiny green blip letting him know before it vanished. Grappnel line was working, with an immediate second line ready to fire; Fynn had several more cable lines in one of the many pouches that lined the outside of his armour. The bandoleers were filled with all manner of energy packs, grenades, hand-secures, tazers, silencers... Anything and everything a Bounty Hunter and pacifier would need.

The shoulder-mounted stun-net was on and working, but Fynn had it cradled backwards in an 'idle-off' position. It would take precious seconds to bring it up and aligned on his shoulder, but Fynn wasn't out hunting today. Fynn had a smaller jetpack as well; it wasn't as impressive as some others, but he used it to give him added mobility. He wouldn't be flying anywhere with it, but he liked the ring of 'rocket-assisted jumps'.

"Food sounds good, cyar'ika." Lia'ry could cook, and very well, too! But she was fond of exploring new locales and tasting new, local flavours. She liked to emulate them whilst cooking for them in their long, deep-space voyages.

Snatching up his helmet from the armour-stand he had erected the night before, he briefly looked at it. It was green, like the rest of his armour, with a tan-golden highlight around the abyss-black 'T' of his visor. The visor was remarkably deceptive; to anyone looking at him, they would think his vision limited. In actuality, he had 360-degree visibility. It was new technology, and still somewhat disorienting, but the sensitive sensors inside his helmet picked up where his eyes were looking and allowed a 'halo' of full-scale vision. He could see all around him, and more, as the sensitive instruments in his helmet allowed his infrared, thermal, and ultra-vision. It also had a targeted package that allowed him to paint friends and foes.

He slid the helmet on and fastened it to the flack-and-vacuum suit that sat underneath the heavy, solid plates of his beskar armour. There was a gentle-hiss as it pressurized and the re-reathers became active, then it was all solid.

"Ready when you are," he told Lia'ry, staring at her with that impassive, frightening T-visored gaze of the Mandalorian. He took her hand before they left the hotel room, and they looked very much the couple. He was ready for war, but at the same time, ready for a simple meal with his beloved. It was strange, but wholly... Mandalorian.

~~~~~~~
​

As the couple weaved through the lobby, Fynn couldn't help but notice the extravagant garb (and extravagant bust) of a certain woman that was also walking through the lobby. She had a regal bearing about her, and a purpose in her stride. She wasn't headed to talk to the front desk, or any of the Illia Station 'Helpers' that milled about like headless ants all about the station. She knew exactly where she was going, and what she was doing.

Fynn grinned under his helmet as he purposefully weaved he and Lia'ry towards her to the point where, at the exact moment she stepped up to the automatic escalator-doors, he stepped up to them as well. They nearly bumped into one another!

"Excuse us," he said, his voice coming out through the amplifiers of his helmet slightly digitized. There was a huskiness to his voice, and the lilt of a foreign accent. He spoke Basic, but his vowels and consonants alike had a strange, exotic sound to them. It was most-assuredly Mandalorian, more Concord Dawn than anything else.

"Quite the outfit you got there," he continued as he stepped back to allow her to step onto the moving floor that would take her out to the smooth stone walkway in front of the Hotel Odyssey. "Business, or pleasure?"

While his words bordered on obstinate, his tone was very pleasant despite coming out of the voxbox of his helmet. His tone alone helped to dissuade the idea of his being a warmachine, even with the slew of weapons on his body.
 
Dieltai took the elevator all the way down to the lobby and walked out like she was on a mission of some sort. In truth she just wanted to get out of the hotel as quickly as possible. She hadn't been able to feel it in the room but it seemed that many of the guests were less than pleased from last nights events. The negative emotions were bothering her and she wanted to get away from them as quickly as possible. In fact, she was so focused on getting out of there that she barely missed a couple as she made a move to get onto the escalator.

"Ah, It's alright, I wasn't watching where I was going." She said smoothly as she stepped onto the moving floor at his polite gesture. She smiled a bit as his comment about her clothing. "Thank you, I was trying to blend in but it seems I stick out no matter what I wear...I'm here for pleasure, and you two?"

She looked from the tall man to the lovely woman next to him, the fact that they were holding hands not going unnoticed. She also couldn't help but notice the armor they both wore, though it seemed that the woman preferred to go helmet-less and with good reason. As for the man he seemed to be prepared for anything that Illia could throw at him, what ever his reasons were for being there it seemed that he was ready to take on the world. She couldn't help but notice some negative feelings floating about him though as well as his female companion, though they certainly weren't as strong those of the other guests. She smiled a little more and started to press her feeling of calm over them, not to much, but enough to hopefully shoo away the rest of the bad emotions.
 

"If you still want to go after just one, then I'm perfectly fine with throwing a killer party at the Argan & Denassi Corporation today. But tonight might still happen out of spite if the rest are left intact. I leave the decision to you."

Another riposte. This 'Mandalorian' was full of them. Lan had to admit, whatever this one's game was, he was good at it. But it didn't matter. If what he said was true, stones were set in motion now that could not be easily halted. Without knowing it, the Mando had practically given him all he needed. Lan mused over this idly for a moment as he stifled his cigarra into the ashtray nearby. The Merchant Master couldn't help but smile.

"Just the one," He intoned casually. "Any more would be bad for business."

Lan rose from his seat without an explanation of what 'bad for business' could mean. He did not look like a man who was about to lose money, which may have been somewhat of a curiosity for anyone who knew his predicament. He raised his glass to Cobier, the smile still persisting on his lips. Lan's mind was already racing ahead. A little chaos was good for the station once in awhile. A lot of chaos tended to muck things up, however. Hiring this 'Clypeus' was a gamble either way, but one that Lan was well within his limits to risk.

"K'oyacyi, Clypeus." That predatory glint in his gaze never departed, and was never touched by his smile.
 


Her nostrils were slightly flared as a single, melodramatic bead of sweat trickled it's way down the side of her cheek as the very last 1/3 cupful of sugar was salvaged off the street and poured back into the bag. It was done, she did all she could do for that poor, poor bag of sugar. The Nautolan sat there for a minute to calculate how much of it was saved. The tips of her tendrils wriggled slightly almost as if they were writing out the math in the air. Yora leaned over and tied the loose, excess bag material into a knot to ensure the rest would not seep out again as she placed it into the crate with the rest of the salvaged.

Yora managed to rescue 89% of the sugar which was more than her minimum expectation. But things would be so much easier if all of it could have been recovered. Maybe if I went back to the docks now... the thought twinkled in the back of her mind, revisiting the docks would have to wait until she found the last bag of flour. The question was where it had dropped from the landspeeder and when. Yora's baker background prepared her to think more than few steps ahead and plan for complications but to backtrack on random events really tested her mental mettle.

She basically gave up after a minute and concluded it would be faster go back to scanning the streets than try to pinpoint where it had dropped based on things she wasn't even paying attention to at the time. Her lips scrunched and pursed in on themselves when she looked back to the pedestrian woman and the new Wookiee companion she was chatting with. It would be faster and easier to have another set of eyes, maybe even that Wookiee's set too but what she had heard of Wookiee's she would rather take her chances asking the woman. But then they looked to be real chummy, maybe even getting back in touch after who knows how long and Yora wasn't the type to intrude upon such matters.

But still...

"U-ummm... so... thank you so very much for catching my bag of sugar, the help you've dispensed is incalculable. I must be on my way to recover the last bit of my supplies but please stop by my bakery on the mezzanine level...!" she called out to both the Wookiee and the hooded woman.

 
There was a plain expression on Lia'ry's face as they weaved through the crowds and objects in the hotel. The Twi'lek was a little bit grouchy still and famished. Not every unpleasant emotion could be banished entirely. All frustrations were hidden beneath a stoic mask; she didn't believe in faking smiles.

Fynn was dragging her towards a fancily dressed woman who he seemed eager to get nearby. Men would be men, she supposed. The instant sighting of someone pretty and they'd be all over it. More than likely, he was just curious about the woman. Fynn was faithful, plus she didn't have it in her to be jealous. What really made her scowl was being forced along by the hand. That was something she was never keen on, even in her past as a slave. It made her feel like an insignificant child with no independence. Unfortunately, there was no time to snap her hand back and scold them. They were already on the moving floor.

"Business, initially," she replied to the woman with a sigh. "Since nothing went according to plan, we're just browsing."

Vibrant as this lady's outfit was, there was a calming aura that Lia'ry could sense. She suddenly felt more relaxed and less bothered. The thumb of her occupied hand was even stroking along Fynn's hand, despite he couldn't feel the affectionate gesture through his armour. For some reason, she felt that she could forget about her troubles. For now, anyway.

"I'm familiar with your kind," she brought up with half a smile. That was all she said about that, really. Saying a Zeltron won her in a gamble didn't seem worth mentioning... "However, you look... Different from most. More... Aristocratic. I did pick up rumours of a princess staying here. Would that be you?"

Lia'ry then flashed an apologetic smile. The observation was thought entirely out loud; she didn't want to annoy the woman. Slowly, her gaze went from the Zeltron to the path ahead. Her eyes searched for someplace to get off at so they could get something to eat. Content as she felt, the growling emptiness in her stomach could not be ignored.
 
Dieltai laughed lightly before nodding her head at the Twi'lek in front of her. It seemed as if she had finally been caught, not that she was really hiding in the first place anyway.

"It seems I have been discovered~ I suppose I should have invest in something more plain, but yes, I am the rumored princess. Not that I was trying to keep a low cover from anyone other than the higher ups in this station, I'd be buried in invitations if they caught wind of me. So mind keeping a secret for me okay?" She said sweetly, winking playfully at the woman as she placed a finger on her lips as if to ask for silence. "Also, don't worry about exposing me dear, it would only be a matter of time before someone realized who I was. You just happened to be one of the first."

She looked over the couple once more, a little more curious about them then she was before. They seemed to be very content with each other but the armor lead her to believe that they certainly weren't peaceful traders coming in to profit from the wealth of Illia.

"On the topic of looks you two don't seem the usual peaceful traders looking for some money...especially with that armor. You look more prepared to take on the universe more than anything else." She said softly, so as not to alert others around them.
 
"Very well."

There was no sound of defeat in his voice that one might expect from not getting a chance to cause so much chaos. After all, if he wanted to it would be very simple to just continue on a party tour after the first stop. No sort of honor or loyalty truly bound him to Lan. Every thread of it was more than likely just a pretense to cause havok under a reasonable guise. On top of it all, this was merely his first day on the space station. Plenty of time still remained to weave other tiny threads and the day was hardly even done!

Little remained for him in this shady little cantina however, which left his mind to quickly grow bored. While intelligent, he was still only nineteen years old. Cobier needed something to keep him interested for now, or things would likely take a turn for the worse far too quickly. Plus there was his mission to consider. . . getting that done was top priority. More or less. No reason not to have fun along the way to victory.

"Now I suppose we should part ways for now. Unless you want to negotiate my pay this early on? Perhaps some other matter to discuss? Otherwise I have some matters to attend to so that your competitors get quite the bash today."
 
It didn't take a Jedi to notice her embarrassment, and Rowrrooko did his best to look reassuring, saying, "[I'm sorry for prying. Your secret is safe with me.]"

"[Please, just Rowrrooko. The Council never pushed the title onto me and I never pushed for it. More trouble than it was worth and those titles never suited me anyway. Never made me a better Jedi, just let them feel better about themselves.]" He shifted slightly as he spoke, hadn't been fully aware of how much he missed those days on Coruscant, the immaculate rows of lore in the Library, the way the evening sun slid around the columns of the entrance. Better days.

"[If you need to prepare for the race, I wouldn't dream of taking up your time, I once-]" He was cut off as the other girl blurted out a farewell and dashed off before a word could be said after her, tendrils waving behind her. "[Excitable child...]" he said softly before looking back to Kira.

"[The only real point to my wanderings right now is to see the Odyssey, for personal reasons. You're free to join me if you wish, don't feel that you're obligated to stay with a slow, old Wookie. Once you reach 500 you tend to stop hurrying around.]"
 



The crack echoed through the entire hull of the Azure Star as the transport entered real space on the inner side of Big Aja. Zilvadi immediately began his post hyperspace checks, following them with a transmission to Illia Station.

"Illia control, this the free trader Azure Star, contracted by Argan & Denassi, requesting an approach vector, over." Zilvadi spoke into his ship's communications panel. Soon after his navigational console began to beep as it picked up the tight beam from the station's computer. Punching it up into the auto pilot, he sent another transmission to the station, thanking them and left the cockpit. He moved to the aft of his ship, climbing down into the hold to check on his cargo. He didn't open the pair of crates, but whatever it was the Argan & Denassi Corporation was paying him double the normal fee and promised they would clear customs for him. In any case he had a bad feeling about them, but the money was enough that he would be well off for at least a few months, might even get a suite at the Odyssey Hotel.

As the ship approached the station an alarm went off to signal it's proximity and Zilvadi made his way back to the cockpit. The navigation computer sputtered again and as it did, Iillia Control called again requesting a confirmation for the revision on the navigational data. Zilvadi responded and relaxed, the ship flying it's self into the station. Just one more hurtle and he would be able to settle down for a while.

 

Lan's smile deepened at Clypeus' lack of response as it did at the promise of what was to come. He wordlessly lowered the glass to rest upon the table. One more thing known about his new contact. "If you're concerned about being paid, I can offer you an introductory sum of fifty thousand credits."

He raised the glass again quickly to quaff what was left of his Sandripper, gauging Clypeus' body language as he did so. "A simple taste of what's to come, naturally. I'll pay you double when the job's complete, provided your party coordination is in order. Perhaps a bonus, to offset any extra extravagance you may have in store."

He moved outside the booth and grinned at his Mandalorian companion. "This should be the beginning of a profitable venture for you, I think. Just speak with accounting at the main headquarters. Let them know you're there for the party, and I'll make sure that they give you your payment. We'll speak again when the job's complete..."

With that, he turned to leave.
 
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