| abstract
| - The starport is bustling as always, what with being the capital planet of the New Republic and all. It is certainly more colorful than Coruscant, and so the strange and weird doesn't get noticed as much as it would in another place. However, that doesn't apply to everyone. In particular, a rather ragged quarren stands out from the crowd; however, his presence here is slowly becoming tolerated. He is accompanied by a squib, and no one who has ever seen a squib could have thought they would look menacing, but this one does. "Aye," he says, presumably continuing a conversation, "I'd agree with ye there, Grizz. But ye'll have t' take it ter Bill, as well." A shuttle seems to have arrived recently and when the hustle and bustle of arriving passengers has died down, a young person in shabby clothes is left behind, looking around the spaceport with narrowed eyes, hands tucked into the coat. Spotting the quarren and the squib the person walks over to them. "Oi! D'ye know a place with cheap rooms on this planet?", he asks, the voice trying hard to sound deep and manly. "Roight...but I'm gonna need the roight tools for the job." The squib responds, taking a pull off of the cigar stub that hangs out of the side of his snout with a grunt. Arms folded, the remains of a droid arm in place of his right forearm drums its fingers lightly. Lifting an eyebrow at the shabby young person, the Squib chuckles and blows a waft of cigar smoke. "O' course, chummer, o' course," the captain nods, causing his hat to dislodge from the head that is not shaped quite correctly to be wearing it. He reaches up to readjust it, pushing it down firmly. He starts to say something else, but the words carry on the slight breeze of the spaceport to his ears, and he turns in that direction. His gaze settles on the young speaker, and his eyes narrow slightly. "A room?" he repeats, glancing to Grizz with a questioning look, but then looks back to the speaker, "Maybe. What's yer price range? The lower side o' nothin', seems like." He chuckles, but his words are not said with malicious intent. The young person's cheeks flush red in anger but it doesn't last long for the captain obviously has a point. "Yea well, I don' need no fancy crap, jus' a roof over me head and a place to lay down on.", he replies and shrugs. "Somethin' to eat and some ale would be cool, too." His eyes, apparently dark blue underneath the wide-brimmed hat's shade, study the pair in front of him curiously. "Well," the quarren says, hooked tentacle reaching up of its own accord to scratch the side of his face idly as he looks the lad up and down appraisingly, "Ye don't look as though ye could drink too much." This elicits another chuckle, but he sobers up quick as a thought pops into his head. "What can ye do, me lad? Got any talents? Interests? Hobbies?" This is said in a joking manner, but there's an underlying current of seriousness, as well. Kitty shrugs a bit sullenly. "I'm pretty damn good with swoops an' stuff.", he replies, "I fixed me own swoops from scrapheaps and such. Also tooled with ships. And I'll drink any of you fishy guys under the table!", he adds boastfully, puffing himself up to his full, if not terribly impressive, height of 1.65 metres. Laughing, Grizz nearly loses the cigar stub out of the side of his mouth and arches his back in reply. "Hah! You hear that Captain? This one says it can drink more than you!" He adds, taunting. The captain's chuckle from before turns into a full-blown laugh, mingling with Grizz's as he slaps the squib on the back, "That's a good one, innit?" he says between guffaws, "What do ye think, Grizz? Shall we try 'im out wi' the Blackwood? That'll separate the strong from the faint 'earted!" He turns back to the rather slight human, and his voice is jovial as he says, "Yer all right, lad. Ye got guts, I'll give ye that. Maybe we c'n work somethin' out, how'd that be?" The young person just grits his teeth as the two burst into laughter. They think they're funny, huh? But the captain's words placate him somewhat. "Work out what?", he asks, voice and eyes still suspicious, "Who are you guys anyway?" "We're a karking ships crew." The squib responds, taking the stub of cigar from his yellowed teeth with his metallic hand. "Best there is..." "Aye, Grizz, ye be tellin' it true." Jack nods decisively, "Ye can call me Jack, lad. We're lookin' fer a crew fer me ship. How'd ye like to have more'n just a room and a glass o' ale? Ye look like ye might be worth somethin'. At least we can use ye for a shield in a firefight." He just can't help himself when it comes to the small but feisty human, and laughs again, but continues, "But maybe ye've got a better offer, eh?" Though the ratty state of the human says that he doesn't. "How much do ye pay?" the young human wants to know, trying at least to -look- like he had some other offers. "I -am- worth something in a tight spot, believe ye me. I'm an asset to anyone's crew,” he claims with some confidence and smiles, revealing a not too clean but at least full set of teeth. Pushing his hat back from his face, Jack nods, "Fair enough question, lad. I'll tell ye true, the pay won't be much at first. But ye'll have a clean bed, enough food for three o' ye, and all the ale ye can drink, even if ye can drink us under the table. And who knows? Maybe we'll strike it rich." Holding out a hand to the young human, Jack regards the human calculatingly, as if something much larger hinges on his decision. The young human listens in silence, face serious now, and finally nods. "Sounds like a good deal to me,” he says and reaches out to take Jack's hand and shake it. "So where's your ship?" he asks and looks around curiously. A small smile pulls up the corners of Jack's mouth as he shakes the young man's hand, saying, "All right, then, lad." The question brings a twinkle to his eye, and he says, "Well, we're in the market, as it were." Sticking one suctioned hand in the pocket of his pants, he says, "But don't ye worry, lad. We're gettin' the best one that money can buy, and that's for true. Before the week is out, we'll be ready to set out. Ye'll see more o' the galaxy than ye'd ever want to." The young human nods. "Awright then...", he says and, realizing that he STILL needs to find a bed for the next nights though, picks up a small bag off the ground. "Well, I'll go and take a look around the planet then... See ya later, boys!"
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