About: A Gathering of Shadows   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

ICly, it is Helona, 24 ABY or 43 ISY. Meltdown Cafe - Level 92: Nar Shaddaa Spacers, mercenaries, pirates, bounty hunters, traders, smugglers, black market dealers, thieves and a large array of both the galaxy's most dangerous and most wanted fill the smoky confines of Nar Shaddaa's most notorious bar. Stepping into Meltdown Cafe is like a trip to the heart of the galactic fringe - few places anywhere can offer more opportunities and peril. Heads turn slowly from over the tbac covered tables at each newcomer, seasoned pairs of eyes scan others with the most frigid expertise of those seeking opportunity, hardened bodies occupy the many booths. By all standards, this place is just the extension of the Smuggler's Moon, but here it manages to concentrate it all into one chamber. Lights are dim

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rdfs:label
  • A Gathering of Shadows
rdfs:comment
  • ICly, it is Helona, 24 ABY or 43 ISY. Meltdown Cafe - Level 92: Nar Shaddaa Spacers, mercenaries, pirates, bounty hunters, traders, smugglers, black market dealers, thieves and a large array of both the galaxy's most dangerous and most wanted fill the smoky confines of Nar Shaddaa's most notorious bar. Stepping into Meltdown Cafe is like a trip to the heart of the galactic fringe - few places anywhere can offer more opportunities and peril. Heads turn slowly from over the tbac covered tables at each newcomer, seasoned pairs of eyes scan others with the most frigid expertise of those seeking opportunity, hardened bodies occupy the many booths. By all standards, this place is just the extension of the Smuggler's Moon, but here it manages to concentrate it all into one chamber. Lights are dim
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abstract
  • ICly, it is Helona, 24 ABY or 43 ISY. Meltdown Cafe - Level 92: Nar Shaddaa Spacers, mercenaries, pirates, bounty hunters, traders, smugglers, black market dealers, thieves and a large array of both the galaxy's most dangerous and most wanted fill the smoky confines of Nar Shaddaa's most notorious bar. Stepping into Meltdown Cafe is like a trip to the heart of the galactic fringe - few places anywhere can offer more opportunities and peril. Heads turn slowly from over the tbac covered tables at each newcomer, seasoned pairs of eyes scan others with the most frigid expertise of those seeking opportunity, hardened bodies occupy the many booths. By all standards, this place is just the extension of the Smuggler's Moon, but here it manages to concentrate it all into one chamber. Lights are dim, covering the edges of the bar in constant shadows, the buzz of languages is electric, and the music saunters hypnotically between the walls. Any race can be found here, and some probably never known before. A shadowy cove dominates the area behind the bartender, likely a backroom where unspeakable plans are laid. A haze inhabits the air, where the scent of alcohol competes with the waft of spice, where the clank of money makes the world go round, and where tables and chairs bear scars of disagreements from the past. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Korlen => Karawn'Rai => Torin => Menu Poster => Electric Spice Band Obvious exits: Watching Torin suck on his Tabac, he suddenly has an urge to have one as well. "You got an extra one of those, I'm out." Finally a service droid zooms by and Karawn is able to stop it and order a drink. He orders two, whether his friend is drinking or not. Initially he thought about just getting some blue milk, but thought against it. After the droid zips away he turns his attention back to Torin. "Yes as a matter of fact, I was able to get in touch with Jaspar." He pauses and glances around as if looking for someone, "I was hoping Korlen could be here so we could discuss, I sent him a message via the communicator but haven't received a response." Torin and Karawn are sitting together in one of the corner booths. Torin has a tabac stick in his hand and a data tablet on the table in front of him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure thing, man." He sticks the tabac stick into his face and then reaches into his vest pocket. First he pulls out a lighter and tosses it to the Twi'lek across from him, then follows it up with a metal case that contains hand rolled tabac sticks. Before the droid zips off, he makes sure to get himself something with a lot of alcohol in it, then says, "Jaspar? Yah." He nods his head a few times and says, "Doesn't seem to bad. You seen squid face lately? Be nice to have a little sit down with him." Catching the lighter, he flicks it a few times to make sure it works, always gotta test it yourself. Karawn then takes the metal case. Popping it open, he pulls out a Tabac stick and snaps the case shut. Sliding it across the table, it stops next to the edge in front of Torin. Igniting the torch he takes a couple puffs of the stick to get it lite, and extinguishes the flame. Double checking the end to make sure its lit, he puts it back in his mouth and takes a long drag, breathing out to his left. "If squid lips shows up, I'll go back over the stuff, but Jaspar hired the three of us." Korlen approaches the booth appearing suddenly out of the busy bar crowd with a large mug of a frothy green drink in his hand. "I got your message to meet; was a bit busy to respond." He looks at the two sitting before him as he sits, "And I heard the squid face comments. If you don't want a suction-cupped slap, I'd watch that mouth." After giving a stare in Torin's direction to underline his words, Korlen looks around the busy room as he asks, "So what is our employment status?" The proverbial 'man of the hour' enters the cafe, and pulls up a chair to the group. "Gentlemen." He calls over one of his usual hook-ups..err..one of the waitresses, and orders a drink for himself. "Drinks are on me. What're we having?" Taking a deep drag from his tabac stick, Torin takes a look at it, chucks it on the floor and steps on it. Given the case and lighter are already out, he grabs another and lights it. He closes the case and sets the lighter on top of it, leaving it on the table for easy access. To Karawn, Torin nods his head as he blows smoke out and says, "Good, good, good, good. Yeah, I told him basically that you'd handle all that druk. I just met him by chance." As Korlen approaches and threatens to slap him, his eyebrow raises and he says, "Oh. Hey. Glad you could make it." He gives a quick glance around him. His right eye twitches slightly, then he asks Korlen, "Smoke?" He motions to the container on the table, "Wait... can you smoke? How would that even work?" As Jaspar pulls himself up, he claps his hands together once, "Man! That's what I like to hear. So I guess I should be callin' you boss man now, yeah? Yeah. Thanks bossman." He adds another heavily alcohol...ated beverage to his order. Thinking about it, Karawan might actually enjoy a suction cup smack. "Welcome, grab a seat that isn't covered in filth." he says to his friend Korlen. Glancing down at his frothy green drink, he says, "I see you decided against the blue milk too, good choice." Leaning forward,he looks past Korlen watching for the service droid to bring his drink. With no droid in sight, the Twi'lek flicks his Lekku to his left side so he can sit back, "We have been hired by Jasper who pilots the Hirakiis . He takes a long draw on his Tabac stick and exhales upwards. "He may be joining us as well to go over some things." Just as the last words fell from his lips, Jaspar magically appears and pulls up a seat. "Welcome Jasp, was just tellin' these guys you are now our boss. " Karawn takes advantage of the free drinks and orders up another just as the service droid brings his initial two. He takes the cold drinks, setting one in front of him and quickly downs the one. "Figure you can go o'er the basics with these chaps." Korlen takes a draw from his frothy brew, and the look on his face shows the relief it provides him. He looks at the tabac, then at Torin who had offered it. Ignoring the comments Torin made, Korlen replies, "Thanks, but no thanks. Quarrens don't tend to like smoke, dries out the tentacles." He then looks to Jaspar's approach, and nods to him as he sits at the booth. Jaspar's drink comes, along with the rest of the orders. He sips at it, kicks his feet up to make himself comfortable, and nods. "Welcome. Andromidas Galaxy Logistics has a long, proud history, and a reputation most folks would kill for. Folks pay us to handle things too dicey to handle themselves, and they pay quite well to keep their hands clean. We handle a little bit of everything, though not *absolutely* everything. Most of the work, however, will be above the level, so we shouldn't run into too much trouble. If, however, we do run into trouble, I'm sure we can handle it, yeah?" He casts a glance around at his crew. Torin pulls his seat a little closer to the table. He sticks his tabac stick into his mouth and then leans forward onto the table, shutting down the data pad he was working on. He leaves it there, glances at it one time to ensure it is off, then leans back. The tabac hangs from his lip, smoldering slightly as he looks to Jaspar to hear what these basics are that Karawn mentioned. He does give a sidelong look to Korlen as his offer is refused and nods his head once, before looking back to Jaspar once again. He listens to what the man has to say. When the question on whether they can 'handle it' is an issue. he reaches down and pats the holster at his hip and says, "Not a problem, nope, nope. So you mostly do transpo' only or you go in business at all for yourself? Like, make your own product, get it?" Jaspar nods, gently. "I get it. I used to be under contract to a guy whose name I've since conveniently forgotten, where I transported a little bit of everything, so my ship's set up to cater, adequately, to all walks of life. The Hirakiis is a sizable vessel.. not as fast as, say, a scout ship, but it can take a good beating, and dish it out in return." He pauses. "There's plenty of room aboard to set up a... science lab... if that's what you're asking." He responds, with a nod, after a quick glance around to suss out any potential eavesdroppers. Karawn's glance is upon the server bringing the third drink to the table. This night could get interesting. Taking a big gulp of his 2nd, Karawn holds his glass up in Jaspars direction to thank him for the drink. The Twi'lek sits and listens to his new boss go over some of the basics, and nods when the discussion of trouble arises. The smoke from his Tabac stick lingers above his head as he exhales another puff. "These are decent sticks Tor, thanks. " His attention goes back to Jaspar, "As I said before, I don't welcome trouble but have no worries that we can handle whatever is thrown to us. You've made a wise investment for your company, in terms of sales and security." Continuing to listen as Jaspar answers Torin's question, he takes another long sip of his drink. "How's the business with the local law enforcement? They strict around these parts?" Pausing to take a hit from his stick he adds, "You generally comply to searches or put up your dukes?" In response to Jaspar, Korlen says, "I can handle myself under pressure, and am good with a blaster..." Korlen pauses as he looks down at his 'empty' hip. "Though I had to ditch my last one passing through an Imperial checkpoint." Korlen sighs and continues, "They aren't fans of my type in general, least of which if we're armed." Korlen then sits back and sips on his drink while listening to the others. "Interesting." Is Torin's response to being to being able to setup a lab. "Very interesting." He removes the tabac stick from his mouth after taking a drag and ashing onto the floor. He says, "Me an' Karawn spent time with the Rebs. Maybe down the road we can look into gettin' some snubfighter escort for your sizable vessel." He shrugs his shoulder, "An' I guess this would be the kind of planet to find some clandestine lab gear, yeah?" He smirks slightly and then finally takes hold of his amber colored drink and takes a swig from it. He winces slightly then nods to Karawn, "No prob, no prob." He taps the case on the table and adds, "Feel free to grab more." He gives a sidelong glance towards Korlen and says, "Sure we can find something 'round here, man. Shouldn't be too hard." He then looks back towards Jaspar and waits to hear his answers to Karawn's questions. Setting his stick down on the table, the Twi'lek slugs down his second drink and slides the empty glass forward to be collected. He makes a note to himself that they need to get Korlens blaster replaced at the most earliest conveince. This type of work, a blaster is a must have, let alone something certainly needed in Nar Shaadda. Adjusting himself in his seat, Karawn leans forward resting his arm upon the table. Some nostalgia enters his thoughts as Torin talks about their years flying together. "As long as our business remains on or above the level, we may conduct said business with the blessings of the Republic. Of course, that means I've had to put a hold on a rather lucrative job, for now, and that's all I'll say on that specific matter." Jaspar pauses, and stretches. "Rest assured, other jobs will come, and you'll all be paid a fair share. I don't leave my people high and dry." He takes another sip. This gives Torin a moment's pause. He takes a drag from his tabac, blowing the smoke out of his nose and purses his lips slightly, "Alright, alright. So one sec. Obviously we talked a lil' bit bout some work I've done 'fore... talkin' bout fixin' up a lab... I mean I can play that druk off as med bay kinda stuff..." He takes a quick drag from his stick, taps it, then continues rather rapidly, "But whatchoo got in mind? I mean, maybe I jus' need a little more unnerstandin' on where the level is and what's above it? Ya know?" Another drag and the tabac is almost to his fingers, but he seems to ignore it. With his free hand, he takes a slug from his alcohol, then waves for a waitress, whether it be living or droid to order himself up another. Tap Tap tap on the Tabac stick, as the ashes fall to the ground. Another draw down and more smoke to the atmosphere. His orange hands reach out for the drink purchased by his new boss, holding it, he continues to listen as Jaspar goes over the 'what -fors' and 'how tos'. Holding any current questions at bay, he waits for Jaspar to answer Torin before overloading him with more. Perfect time to take a drink. "Alright, so, Caspian space is considered no-man's-land until further notice. We avoid it, we're golden. And for the most part, we'll be taking quick-and-clean transport jobs. On occasion, we might find a job that requires getting dirty, and I'd like every effort made to make things appear completely on the up and up... say we're transporting a cache of glitteryll. If memory serves me right, that breaks down into glitterstim and ryll-spice. We bury the glitterstim in as much cargo as we can, to mask its signature, and doll the ryll-spice up so it looks like just a big cache of medical supplies. We can forge the paperwork, and find a weak spot to jump the proverbial border.." Jaspar responds, talking with his hands. He seems rather reserved, although visibly excited about the prospect of working with a crew after so long on his own. Realizing that he's starting to let his mouth run away from his brain, most likely catching that Karawn is being quiet, Torin takes this opportunity to start quieting down by drinking and smoking. After Jaspar explains things, he looks towards Karawn for a minute, blinks a few times and then says, "Might be able to break it down further. I jus' need time to figure it out." Torin goes back to chain smoking after tossing the almost burned out tabac stick. He says, "That answers my question though." That being said, he lets Karawn go back to handling the speaking. He's just too excitable. Karawn nods as Jaspar continues on. His ears perk up at the discussion of Rhyll and Glitterstim and thoughts of previous runs and jobs reenters his head. Once Jaspar finishes, Karawn looks around the table. "Are we the crew, or are there others we haven't met? I can always help pilot if need be, but my specialty is hiding goods. Back on Ryl, rhyll and glitterstim were my go-to sources for easy money. I know Torin can work some magic with chemicals, and he might be able to mask the signature with a little tweaking." Reaching out for his stick, he realizes that it is out, and decides to 'take a pause for the cause' on another and instead pausing to take a sip of his drink. "I think we're all itching to get our feet wet on jobs. Any prospects? I lost all my contacts back on Ryl a couple years ago, unfortunately." Korlen has been quietly nodding as he listens to all that has been explained. He looks to Jaspar and says, "My specialty lies with computers and security. So should we have an issue with our goods being confiscated or locked up, I'm the man with a plan." At this point Korlen has reached the bottom of his brew and starts eying the room for a waitress to order another. He sees one with some tentacles and winks to get her attention. Jaspar nods to Karawn, "It's just us, for now. We might pick up some fresh blood later on, as conditions allow." At Torin's words, and Karawn's mention, Jaspar tries not to beam too much. "Good stuff. I'd like to have a plan in place *before* we get ourselves into such a scenario, please." Finally, to Korlen, Jaspar nods, and rubs his hands together. "Excellent. If all goes according to plan, every day until we decide to retire, we won't need those skills. Of course, since this is real life, I'm glad we have your skills to fall back on, should the situation present itself. Regarding prospects... I've got some things I'm kicking around, but nothing solid enough worth mentioning just yet." Jaspar finishes. With a few blinks, Torin kind of sinks into himself. He gives a few sideways glances and then turns the data slate back on. He takes a drag and scrolls through some things on the tablet. Ball and stick model chemicals appear on the screen. He squints his eyes as he looks at them, then looks back up as Karawn and Korlen both speaks to Jaspar. He glances between the two, then looks down at the chemicals on his data slate. A puff from the tabac stick, then finally he pipes up with, "So. So. Yeah. I got one more question. You got bunks? Tired of getting eaten up by bed lice." The waitress Korlen had gotten the attention of was just returning with another frothy brew for him as Torin was finishing his sentence. Korlen said something to the female in his native tongue, which if the others didn't speak, they understood enough when she slapped him and walked away. Turning back to the group with only a moment's pause, he says, "Mmmmm, bed lice." After a short laugh he added, "This looks like the start of a good run." "--I don't have bunks. I lock myself in my weapons locker when I need to catch some shut-eye." Jaspar responds, his expression completely serious... and then it fades to a grin. "Of course I have bunks. One or two aside, they haven't been slept in for a good while, so I'll need to swap out the linens.. but other than that..." He nods, and flashes a thumbs-up, glancing around. Torin gives a quick glance towards Korlen. He picks up on what the Quarren says, knowing a good bit of the language and makes a face, "Nasty man. Just nasty." He finishes off his own drink, and reaches a hand out towards the waitress before she leaves to order himself more alcohol. Might as well since its on the boss's tab. His eyes squint a little though as its obvious the alcohol is getting to him a little. As Jaspar responds to him, his head snaps back to look at him and he squints further as the joke is made and then blinks as he finally understands it's a joke. He snorts slightly then says, "Okay, good good. Like I said. Tired of the place I'm stayin'." He pauses, looks down at the tablet as if he's trying to remember something, then it appears to come to him as he asks, "You witnessed many swoop races here? There money in it? Thought 'bout checkin' it out." Letting Torin speak, he too also wonders if they are able to move in. The rental life in Nar Shaada is certainly not a pleasant one. " If you need help at the docks, we can certainly help, I think it'd be good for us to get to know the layout of the bird and understand how you run everything. Drowning some more of the liquor he scoots the empty across the table, picks up his stick and relights whats left. At that point Korlen gets a solid one to the face, Karawn almost chokes down his stick in laughter. He grabs the waitress attention before she rushes off, and orders the daily special called "The Captains Drink." The name makes it sound top notch so he orders it. After ordering, he thought, he better extra careful not spill such a finely crafted brew. He smiles as Jaspar says there are bunks available and interrupts him as he is speaking about swapping out linens, "We' ll get the bunks ready, there's no need for you to be our maid as well. My guys can handle themselves. However as for Torin, the weapons locker is a fine place for him to sleep." Pausing, he gazes over at Torin scratching underneath his eye with his middle finger. He turns back towards Jaspar, "Anyone round here we need to watch out for? People who might have it out for you? Seeing as we're working for you now, it'd be good information." Korlen is seen eyeing the waitress some more as the other two order more drinks. He is clearly lost in ... intimate ... thoughts. He snaps out of it to hear Karawn finishing some more questions. He turns his head to hear Jaspar's response. "On Nar Shaddaa, we're ghosts' shadows. Off-world, though, I'd try to avoid any Imperial checkpoints, or areas known to be frequented by them. There's no love lost between Empire and myself.." says Jaspar, as he holds up the junker of a prosthetic that now serves as a hand. "I got to spend a few nights at the famous Hotel Imperial, in their Interrogation Suite." He affects a posh, mocking tone. "They charged an arm and a leg per night, though.. or, in my case, a hand." "Hey man. Not funny. I need my sleep if you want me to function right." Torin says defensively to Karawn, "Wouldn't want some stuff to blow up when you're supposed to be making money offa it. I need a good bunk..." He snorts, "Tryin' to put me in a weapons locker. Pft. No." He shakes his head, then looks back to his tablet. He peers at the chemicals there in, jots a few notes next to one and then shuts the tablet off. He yawns softly, looks at his newly arrived drink, takes around half it in one slug, then peers towards Jaspar, "That why you got that junky lookin' thing? You know, you should let me and Squidy take a look at that thing. We might be able to do some improvements really." Glancing at the prosthetic limbs, it reminds him of how much the Empire fuels his hatred. "Any chance I get, I put an Imperial soldier between my sights, makes for good target practice." He flicks the last bit of his stick away from the table, also away from others as to not insure any type of fight. "Got any rules you want us to stick to or can we just do our thing so long as the job is our main priority and gets handled? Generally, Korlen needs to be home by midnight, you've seen what happens when hes out past his bed time." Korlen is studying the junky prosthetic from across the table when Torin offers his help bettering it. "Yeah, we can definitely polish that baby up." Korlen looks Jaspar up and down, then after a pause continues, "We could also graft a cannon to your chest." His eyes light up when he says this as though it has alway been a desire of his to graft a cannon to a man's chest. "Yes, actually, I do.. Between missions, what you do on your own time is your business, as long as it doesn't come back and bite us in the ass. On that note, wipe your feet before you set foot in my bird, otherwise I'll kick your ass right back out, and you won't sit for a week." A beat. "And don't bring home strays without giving me a heads-up." Jaspar responds, nodding. The meaning is clear, or at least it should be: If you suspect you're being tailed, lose it before you come home; and if a potential job pops up, call it in, so a proper sitdown can be arranged. Tossing his tabac stick and grabbing a new one, Torin lights up and then finishes his drink. He tucks his tablet away in a satchel and then stands up from the table. He wobbles for a second, then stabilizes himself by gripping the table. The tabac stick goes into his mouth and he mouths around it, "Speakin' of bedtime, no 'ffense, but I'm gonna pass out here at the table. Guess I'm not used to livin' high on the alcohol hog." He takes his hand from the table as he seems to get his footing and says, "Okay, right, so... hang a stethoscope on the door or somethin' if you got company. Got it. And make contact if we get work. Not too hard." He sticks the tabac stick into his mouth and talks around it, "Alright gents... I'mma go snooze this off. Been real." Karawn'Rai nods in acknowledgment of the rules set fourth. "Too easy, I have my eyes out looking for new jobs but without much in terms on contacts, I haven't heard much. " Glancing back at the "Schutta" of the hour, (slut in Twi'Lek), he asks, "What about getting this guy a blaster, got any good points of contact?" His drink, "The Captains drink" finally comes. The odor of it wafts into Karawn's nose. It's a strong one, he thought, I'll do my best not spill it. As Torin wobbles to his feet to head out, he snatches out one last stick for the road. Karawan glances around the table and gets the hint that every seems to be itchin to head on out. With a quick shot back, the drink disappears down his gullet. Might be regretting that one tomorrow. Standing, he turns towards Jaspar with his hand extended, "Thanks for the drinks, and hashin' this out with us. I know you're busy'n;all." He glances once more around the table, and says, "You'll see us aboard in no time. Boss." "Tritus Vaticus, Gundark Industrial." Jaspar responds, reaching into his jacket pocket for a business card, which he then proceeds to scribble on with a pen, writing out a note of sorts. "Drop my name, and he'll set you up." The card is handed off. Korlen nods in agreement and says, "Simple enough. I look forward to our partnership." He looks around the bar and spots the waitress from earlier and says, "and with that said..." turning back to the group, "I'll see you gents later." He then sauntered off in her direction.
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