Across the galaxy dozens of communicators beeped in syncopation. The Justicar had been robbed. While the Sith Master had grown accustomed to the childish pranks of having his office furniture stolen this time a data disc of great importance had been taken from his office.
While the Imperial Security Bureau (ISB) went to work to locate the culprit or culprits, Kamjin immediately sought help from the best of the Brotherhood.
As the investigation unfurled our newfound detectives received an update from the ISB that the list of suspects had been narrowed to six and, through a very conspicuous set of circumstances, all six had gathered in The Salty Dug.
The Salty Dug, one of a thousand near identical cantinas throughout the galaxy held a connection to the Justicar as his often ‘employed’ adventure Dag Duh Dug ran the establishment and Kamjin was known to frequent it over the years.
As you arrive into The Salty Dug it is a usual night. The cantina is packed with an assortment of aliens from across the galaxy. An acid fizz band plays a lazy cover of Zax Keevo’s latest hit with a small sign that reads “Justice for Zax” next to an open Ommni box case.
Dag Duh Dug works the bar. Hoping on his hands between various stools he has stationed to reach the bottles of liquor and drink glasses.
The dance floor is not packed but you’ll have to squeeze through the crowd to make any progress. Of the few booths that are open there are half-drunk drinks, bags, and jackets indicating the occupants are either on the dance floor or elsewhere in the cantina.
A general haze floats throughout the place. The atmospheric recyclers and high ceilings struggling to keep pace with the various concoctions that the aliens were choosing to partake in.
It was a dark and stormy night—at least in Nejj’s mind—as the Zeltron entered The Salty Dug. He popped the collar on his non-existent beater jacket and adjusted the imaginary brim of his detective’s cap. His golden eyes narrowed as he worked his gaze through the haze and the dark silhouettes therein. It was only a matter of time before the femme fatale made themselves known.
Nejj Ithurinos would be ready.
And by “ready”, he would be at the bar. Drinking.
If he could make it through the crowd.
Aylin looked at the sign of the cantina and wrinkled her nose, “They better not be throwing salt around…” Siky poked up from between her tendrils and chirped. “I know, would be bad for lots of costumers. Come let’s see how salty it really is.”
With that the Nautolan hopped inside and nearly bumped into some of the patrons. “Sorry,” she muttered softly and moved further between the people.
A rather intoxicate Abednedo mutters ‘my fault’ before clearing a path towards the bar for another drink.
Tisto could not help but feel a hint of nostalgia as he entered the The Salty Dug. The sizable crowd, ample drinks, and general haze reminded him of the good old days of hanging out at his old gangs bar.
-# Careful Tisto. Those were not the best of days. Besides there is a job to be done.
The Kiffar squeezed his way through the crowd towards the bar, getting the bartenders attention with a credchip. “I’ll take a sonic servodiver please.”
With his order placed, Tisto leaned back against the bar waiting. At the very least he looked like a sports fan getting a drink. Or so he hoped.
“||Got it, one twisted citrus drink,||” Dag Duh Dug, said in his accented Huttese. He swung like a circus performer across the various stools on his hands as his feet grabbed a clean tumbler, several assorted bottles of multi-colored liquors, before coming back to Tisto.
“||You’re new here. What brings you to The Salty Dug?||” Dag asked with effortless small talk as he measured by experience the various potent liquids into the tumbler and began shaking with his feet.
Tisto raised an eyebrow at the Huttese, taken aback for a second.
-# Oh man do I still remember my Huttese? I haven’t spoken it in years. Not since being taught by that violent green Fosh.
“||I heard this was a great place for a drink.||” He started, stumbling over a few words.
Tisto took another second, thinking out the correct conjugations for what he was going to say. After a moment he pointed at his altered rotworms shirt. “||Would you be able to put the game on? I know it starts in a bit and I was hoping to see who would be playing before I have to set my line up.||”
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Kah’ri’s eyes felt like they were being forced out of his skull with every beat the band hit. To add insult to injury, the orange drink in front of him did nothing to help, though that probably had to do with the sickness more than the drink. The pressure wasn’t just in his eyes – his ears were sore and it was hard to breathe especially among the fog of this ‘stupid bar’ as Kah’ri had begun calling it in his head.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Kah’ri held his temples in one hand, covering his eyes. All he could do was ask himself why in the world Kamjin would frequent a place like this?
Sitting at the bar, clearly enjoying herself with a nearly empty glass was a pink/purple beskar armored Sephi. He white/rose colored hair framed her face and her eyes held a gleeful brightness. Tossing back the rest of her drink she shouted over to the bartender while waving around her glass.
||“Hey, Daggy! Whatsa pretty gurl gotta du ta get a refill in this place?”||
Her Huttese was slurred as she spoke, the wide grin plastered across her face never leaving. She looked over to the more serious other patrons before centering her eyes in a more serious fashion.
“I know whatcher thinkin, whats a place like this doin in a lady like me, right? Welllll…I jussst broke up with this reeeallly hot guy, and I need a party. Cards, drinks, the whole sheebang. And I thought…what better place to get absolutely chip faced than The Salty Dug, amiright? So who’s gonna help a girl out???”
As Eevie kept up her facade, her helmet sitting in her lap, she swayed a bit on her seat and looked around the bar, looking for any signs of suspicious activity. She had a job to do.
There’s a general sense of eye rolling amongst the regulars near Eevie. Yet another drunk girl who was going to take up Dag’s time ordering fancy drinks when they just want to get their ale.
Down the bar there is a green scaled alien with a pursed beak like mouth and large curved skull who ‘hmphs’ loudly enough for you to hear. If eyes were daggers she’d pierce your beskar.
Dag swings over to you with a forced smile. Creds were creds. “||Not annoy the customers would be a good start,||” he mutters before speaking brightly. “||Just a smile will do. Let me get you another one of those.||” With a flurry of activity a new drink is put in front of Eevie. “||I don’t tend to cut off my customers but Slyth’s been in a pretty bad fight with Lyn today and he’s probably looking to pull the arms off someone to relieve some stress,||” Dag gestured with his head towards a sour looking Trandoshan listening to a shorter, purple skinned Twi'Lek with only one Lekku clearly continuing to give him a piece of her mind.
Eevie looked over to the Trandoshan and then back to Dag.
||“Oooh…my bad. How about you let me buy him an his girl another round. I hate to ruin their night out.”||
Dag arched an eyebrow. “||Your credits sweetheart,||” Dag said as he popped the tops of two bottles of ale and handed them to a server droid to deliver.
Slyth and Lyn awkwardly accepted the ales. From your view you can see them asking the droid who sent the ales. As the droid gestures towards Eevie’s set you see Lyn punch Slyth in the arm and hear her say, “Who the hell is she?”
Eevie turns away at the commotion before looking back to the Dug.
||“Wow…you try to be a lil bit friendly and this happens. Daggy? What are they fightin bout to make em both so angry and stuffs? Ain’t we all just here to have a good time??||
Dag chuckled to himself. “||Same thing as always. Kamjin not paying us for the last job he had us do and Lyn feeling Slyth needs to say something to him and Slyth doesn’t want to rock the boat.||”
||“Well ain’t that a crock? Yall go abouts and does a job for that man, and he doesn’t pay ya whatcher owed??? I’d be making sure I got my money,I’ll tell you what.||
Eevie felt like she was on to something with this story, and decided to continue her current path.
||"No wonder they’re so upset.”||
Dag sighed. “||It is what it is. He’ll eventually pay up or he’ll send us on some adventure and we’re able to loot out enough to make up the lack of payment. Not the best arrangement in the galaxy but it could be worse.||”
With Dug distracted, Tisto picked up his drink, taking a sip from it.
-# Damn they mix a good drink. I should come here more often.
He did his best not to be unnerved by all the people speaking fluent Huttese. Still, he seems to have done a good job blending in as just a sports fan. He did his best to tilt his head towards a screen while looking around for any hint of any of the suspects.
Ellac folded his arms as he leaned back against the wall of the dance floor. It hadn’t been long since he had lost his eyes, but he had still decently managed to navigate through the crowd of patrons to find a spot on the fringes of the cantina to observe.
He had figured out that it wasn’t an exceptionally large establishment, but that didn’t make it any easier to eavesdrop through the swell of music and various conversations, and with the mixture of sweet perfumes and fragranced spice vapors filling his sinuses, most of his physical senses had been rendered useless. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t sniff out the wamp rats from the boggins.
Reaching out through the Force, Ellac scanned through the usual drunken rabble for anything that could give him a lead. There. A woman at the far side of the bar caught his focus… Something lurking in the air around her made Ellac pause. It was dark, and it was strong. “I’ll start there,” he thought to himself as he pushed his way through the dance floor.
“I’ll take a Corellian Ale.” He said, placing a cred chip on the bar as he pulled one of the patrons out of their seat by the collar to take their place near the woman.
Lyraka Svelorn slid back a cooler under the bar and pulled out a Corellian Ale. With an effortless pull of a bottle opener she popped the top and swept it into a bin.
As she placed the fizzing ale onto the bar she grabbed the credit chip. “Oh my,” she said deep local accent. “What happeend to you darling?”
Ellac slowly felt around the counter with the tips of his fingers until his hand found the bottle. “It was a parting gift… Sort of…” he said, taking a small sip of his drink. Now that he was closer, he could almost feel the woman’s dark aura, like a shiver up his spine. “But, he didn’t kill me, so I’m sure I’ll see him again one day… Sort of…” he continued, lightly pulling at the edge of the cloth over his vacant eye sockets. “What about you? Got any scars?”
Eevie’s attention was captured again by a female at the othe end of the bar. With her elongated reptilian head, and foul disposition, the Sephi could tell she was highly agitated.
||“Sorry Daggy, last question. Feel free to charge me fer yer time. The pissed off lady at the other end of the bar. Wel…whol is she and why is sge sooooo pissy?”|| Eevie asked, eyes big as she motioned to the querent.
Lyraka’s heart melted at poor Ellac’s story. “Darling, what makes you think you’ll see this man again? Who would do this to such a sweet boy?” she asked, as she took him in with her motherly eyes.
Dag glanced down the bar and took in the woman Eevie was referencing. “||Oh, Kazturr. She’s always pissed off but she pays in Calamari Flan so I don’t chuck her out. Something’s got her pissier than usual tonight,||” Dag said, offering out his foot with a tell tale ‘pay up’ motion.
Seeing the offered foot, she smirked and pulled out a highly valued amount of credits, dropping them into the Dug’s possession.
||“Any thoughts on what’s got her gears a revving t'night?”||
Dag pocketed the credits into one of his vest pockets. “||Frak, I know. Usually it’s been the quality of the drinks but I’ve been letting the droids serve her lately cause she can’t karking tell me that the droids under poured her drink,||” Dag spat into a waste bin by means of a curse. “||But, tonight. No clue. Something’s got her really worked up and she’s taking it out on anyone who gets near her. My advice to you, stay away from her.||”
Ellac couldn’t help a small laugh as he took another swig. “Oh, I will see him again. You know what they say… ‘An eye for an eye’.” The young Sith placed the bottle back on the bar. “You didn’t answer my question… It’s not like I can see you. Am I missing anything?” he said with a smirk.
Lyraka reached out and held Ellac’s hands around his drink. “I am right here for you. But this man. This horrible man. You must tell me who he is. I’ll alert the authorities. The Justicar himself frequents this establishment. I’ll take it to him!”
Aylin was pushing further through the crowd and thought she recognized someone of the Brotherhood, though she wasn’t sure. Getting near the bar she glanced at all the drinks on the wall and frowned, besides CafPow and some other engery drinks she didn’t know any other drinks.
“Uh… something not to strong, please,” she asked the barman, hoping he heard her above the din of music and chatter without making a fool of herself.
Dag looked up from talking to Eevie. He gave her another look of ‘choose wisely whom you speak with’ and swung his way over to Aylin. “||I’ve got just the thing,||” Dag replied, his casual bartender smile as he reached for his drink gun. A quick series of taps with his toes and a carbonated clear beverage filled a tumbler he had filled with ice. He grabbed a reddish hued juice and splashed it in, tossed in a couple small sweet fruits, and finally gave a small pour of a bubbly bottle of liquor that had a cartoonish Loth-cat on the front.
He tossed on the top of the tumbler and gave it a few good shakes. “||Haven’t seen you here before. What brings you to The Salty Dug?||” , Dag asked as he poured the drink into a martini glass and topped with a twist of citrus peel.
Ellac scoffed as he pulled his hands away from Lyraka, indignant at the mention of Kamjin coupled with her supposed sympathy. But it did remind him of why he was here.
“I must? I didn’t realize we were in the business of giving orders.”
Lyraka pulled back her hands hurt. “No, sir. No orders. But, I feel so bad for you. Please, let me tell the Justicar who did this to you so he can bring justice to them.”
“I’ve been a lot of different places in this galaxy… Met a lot of different people,” Ellac pointed the tip of his bottle toward Lyraka. “Not a single one of them ever had as much sympathy as you…”
“I’ve been here a long time. Used to work at the restaurant that was here before it got sold. Dag was really kind. Let me pick-up shifts here over the years. Even lets me run the place when he’s off on the odd adventure for the Justicar,” Lyraka said, smiling fondly at a life lived in comfort if not splendor.
“You have that look about you. Like the Justicar that is. Someone who’s seen a thing or two in the galaxy. But you don’t have his smile. He has a very kind smile. The kind that makes you question all those things you hear about him.”
With Dag distracted by another customer, Eevie decides to leave her spot at the bar, and walk around over to Kazturr. Approaching the furious looking female, Eevie steps up beside her with a more muted expression.
“How about I buy you a drink, one bad-ass woman to another?”
Kazturr shakes her head in disbelief. Her large, black, souless eyes blink rapidly. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a bad…ass?” Kazturr Shylek demanded, slamming her drink down on the bar. A bartending droid turned at the sound of the slip but opted not to approach. Someone clearly had updated its programing to be mindful of Kazturr.
“Young lady,” Kazturr said, building up steam. “I most assuredly am not a bad-ass and I’ve never been spoken to in such a disrespectful way.” Kazturr slapped the bar top. “Droid. DROID! I demand to speak to Dag. As the owner of this cantina he cannot allow people like this to disrespect his customers.”
Elaine pushed her way through the moving crowd outside of the cantina, making sure Callé was right beside her at all times.
“Blast!” the young human exclaimed, “I told you we shouldn’t have made that pitstop,” she said to her companion.
The pair made their way past the crowd and breached the premises of the cantina. Elaine let out a sigh and lowered her hood onto her shoulders as she took in her surroundings.
Alright, according to the intel Kamjin transmitted, all six suspects are here tonight. She thought as she glanced over the cantina.
“Let’s get to work,” she popped her knuckles and made her way to the bar. She sat on the tattered leather stool, Callé sitting on the floor beside her.
“You seem fond of him… The Justicar, I mean. Do you know him?” No matter Ellac’s strong personal feeling towards Kamjin, it was obvious she either knew him or stayed well informed about him.
Tipping his bottle upside down, Ellac gulped down the last of his drink, placing the empty bottle onto the counter between them.
A gentle tap came on Elaine’s shoulder. A tall Mon Calamari stood there, with a stern but pleasant look upon his face. “Miss, you’re going to need to have a leash for that Nexu,” Hibbity Jibbity, one of Dag’s companions who had an excellent sense of trouble and adventure.
He gave a flippered gesture towards a sign, barely visible in the fog, that said “Leash your pets…however you define that” which was situated to the side of the bar.
Lyraka refilled his drink. “On the house,” she said softly. “||On your tab you mean. No free drinks,||” Dag yelled from down the bar. The Dug had impressive hearing.
“I wouldn’t say I know him, know him,” Lyraka said, the older woman blushed yellow. “He comes in here every now and then and is such a well mannered man. When he’s in his uniform and that little smile he has,” her body shuttered. “I tell you, if I was a younger woman I’d have definitely made a pass.”
Elaine sighed at the oh too familiar encounter and turned around with a small, in-genuine smile as she faced the Mon Calamari.
“Forgive me, I did not notice the sign. I assure you, he is leashed,” She said, “just not physically,” she mumbled under her breath.
Hibbity rolled his large fishy eyes. “Let it be known that the Force, or other spiritual connection to mystical forces, does not constitute a leash as defined by the proprietor of The Salty Dag. As such, if your ‘pet’ were to cause damage to property or persons within the aforementioned establishment you will be subject to a penalty equal to or greater than the damage inflicted by your pet,” Hibbity said mechanically as he withdrew a small plastic card that had the same message written out in several languages on either side.
Hibbity looked down as Tiny, a small female Jawa who was his constant companion jittered excitedly while pointing at the Nexu. Hibbity sighed. “Really? Okay. Umm…Tiny would like to know if she can pet your Nexu.”
Tiny was practically hopping with excitment as her large golden eyes peered up at Elaine.
“Then so be it. My Nexu does not get put on a leash by anyone,” she stated.
“As for if you can pet him,” she looked down at Tiny, “His favorite spot is the top of his neck.” she said with a wink.
Tiny let loose a powerful ‘Utinni!’ as she shuffled forward to gently pet the Nexu’s neck. Hibbity sighed and smiled. There was clearly a deep fondness between the two of them.
“I’ve dealt with plenty of Force users in the past. I’m sure you’ll be fine. But, we don’t want to get stuck paying for things that occur because of,” Hibbity waved his flippered hand around to signify the mysterious Force.
Though it was hard to hear over the clangor in the room, Callé had began to purr as he leaned into the Jawa’s hand.
Elaine gave a small bow of her head to the Mon Calamari.
“I understand. If there is any damage cause by myself or my companion, I will pay for it.”
“Thanks. Come on Tiny. You can’t stay here petting the Nexu all night. No Tiny, I don’t think the lady would give you the Nexu. NO, she won’t sell it either. Come on,” Hibbity and Tiny blended back into the crowd leaving the distinct impression that Tiny’s desire for a Nexu was going to last for a while.
Elaine gave a laugh and waited for the bartender.
It took a few minutes for Dag to get over to Elaine. A busy night of patrons and Elaine’s lack of flashing any creds to let him know she was ready were the likely culprits.
“||What can I get you and…the…urrm, pet?||” Dag asked, his Huttese slightly nervous as he eyed the predator and it’s Nexu.
“I… I’ll have the…” she stammered, not being as familiar with Huttese as she would like. She cleared her throat and began again.
“I’ll have a Naboo Sunset,” she stated in hopes that’s what he even asked.
Dag arched an eyebrow. “||Can I see some form of ID?||” Dag asked, gesturing with a foot.
“Ah! Credits, of course.” She pulled out enough to pay for the drink and slid them across the counter.
Dag pocketed the credits, smirking. “||Thanks, but I need your ID…Your…||I…||Umm…||D,” Dag said, wagging his foot again.
“My ‘D’? D… D… Oh! Forgive me.” She says, pulling out her identity stick and her clan credentials and passing them to Dag.
“||Ugh, another Palatinae. Probably one of Kamjin’s lackeys,||” Dag muttered under his breath. He slid the identity cylinder into the machine and it gave a negative tone. “||Uh-oh, missy. Looks like you’re underage,||” Dag smirked as he chuckled to himself.
Ugh… of all the cantinas for the suspects to be in, She thought.
“I know what that sound means no matter what language you speak. In that case, I’d like my belongs back.” She held out her hand for her identification to be returned.
“I’ll still have the Naboo Sunset, hold the liquor.”
Dag laughed harder. “||I don’t care that you’re underage. It’s not like I’m going to get raided. But its gonna cost you. Twenty creds to get your ID back and you can drink your liquor…at double price,||” Dag said, resting his foot over the identity cylinder.
“If I didn’t know any better by your body language, I’d say that you were threatening me,” she said then laughed, “But that can’t be so, I must be mistaken. I don’t take you for a fool.”
“||Princess, I’ve been threatened by people who can back it up. This is business and business has a cost,||” Dag said, eying the Nexu cautiously.
He’d handled Sith, Jedi, Children of Mortis, and dozens of other escalating threats. However, he would prefer not to be bit and shaken around by a Nexu.
Elaine followed Dag’s eyes down to her feline.
“Oh, him? He’s not too fond of bullies and neither am I. I’m sure that this is all just a big misunderstanding though,” she said, looking back at Dag.
Elaine felt a clawed hand rest gently on her hand. Slyth, the brutish ‘muscle’ of the Dug’s crew had noticed the interaction and came over. Lyn, having decided to take a break from laying into Slyth slid in next to Elaine, carefully on the other side from the Nexu.
“Sugah, this is just a good old fashion hussle. No bullying here. You want to drink underage, you pay the tax,” Lyn said, with a hint of an accent all to familiar to the Twi'lek race.
They were professional, as non-threatening as a threat can be, but the message was clear. Pay the Dug or there would be trouble that none of them wanted to deal with.
For the first time, Ellac was a little glad not to have eyes, else they probably would’ve rolled out of his head. ‘No wonder Kamjin’s so deluded… She practically worships him,’ he thought, taking another swig to hide his disgust. ‘But then, there’s that sense…’ That unnerving blackness hidden behind her facade. It bothered him, like an itch that gets worse the more scratch it; Unfortunately, that never stopped Ellac from trying.
“He’s made an impressive recovery from the recent attempt on his life. I wonder why someone would ever want him dead?” Ellac had to force himself not to say it through gritted teeth.
“You’d be wise to remove your hand before I remove it for you.” She stated.
It’s either pay or cause a scene and spook the targets of importance, most likely cause damage in an attempt to secure them which then means I would have to pay even more… She pondered through the scenarios.
“Tell your buddy that I’ll pay double this time, however, I won’t be as generous next time,” she said to Sylth.
Lyraka sighed as she idly began cleaning the bar top in front of her. “Well…” she started before distracting herself with counting the number of citrus fruit wedges were in the tray. “I don’t want to speak ill of the Justicar. He’s done so many good things in the Caperion system and the Imperial Mission has been quite helpful. But…” she sighed. “I’ve heard things from Dag and the rest. Kamjin’s sent them on some absolutely horrible adventures. HORRIBLE!” she made some sort of religious sign. “I dare not want to speak all the things they said to me. Worse, they say he doesn’t pay them or, at least, doesn’t pay them consistently.”
She gestured down to Slyth who was now resting a clawed hand on Elaine’s shoulder. “Why, he sent them after some Children of Mortis fanatics and Slyth lost an arm. Thankfully it grew back. But the worse thing…Lyn told me that Kamjin hired Dag and the gang to customize some Mandalorian armor for his daughter…spoiled brat,” she added under her breath. “Well, they had to find this Mandalorian armorer who could work the Beskar armor. So they find this person and get told they need to prove their worthiness by capturing and riding some wild beast. I can’t recall the name but Hibbity says it was massive and he’s not known for exaggerated. So they do all this. Lyn get thrown and spent a week in a Bacta tank. The armorer reforges the armor and Komilia says its not flattering and make them go back and redo it. Well, that means they have to ride the beast again!!” Lyraka scowled.
“I tell ya, I don’t think Kamjin is a good father to that girl,” Lyraka gasped at herself. She didn’t believe what she said “Ooooh, I shouldn’t have said that. She crossed herself again as she put a fresh drink in front of Ellac and rushed to the back room.
Slyth smiled and pulled back his hand. Lyn actually slapped Elaine on the shoulder. “There we go, Sugah. That’s the spirit,” Lyn said, standing back up-right. “Dag, give her a decent drink to. Don’t water it down like you would for the rest of the punk kids you pull this con on.”
Dag beamed as he took the offered credits and, to his credit, produced a superior drink to any Elaine had had the pleasure to enjoy before. “||You’re alright kid. Maybe there’s hope for those Palatinae’s to not be a bunch of sticks in the bogs.||”
Elaine took the drink after Dag placed it on the counter and raised briefly a cheer before taking a swig.
“As stubborn and cunning as you may be, Dag, you sure know how to make a delectable drink,” she said.
“Now then, if you’ll excuse me, the sabacc table is calling me,” she raised her glass once more and made her way to the sabacc table, Callé following suit.
“||Don’t lose all your credits before you get there!||” Dag called after the young lady. Chuckling as he had made a tidy profit off her and that single drink.
Despite his condition, the lone Firrereo was on assignment (oh, how he hated days like these) and this meant he had need to get busy. His eyes floated around before settling on what was probably the shiniest thing in the room: a Mandalorian helmet. Kah’ri had an uneasy feeling about most Mandalorians: one could almost always trust them to be volatile and this one sat at a Sabaac table with several other players.
Despite this, Mando-helm was still Kah’ri’s best lead, so he stood from his table and made his way to the gaming table. He hadn’t played against many Mandalorians, and even fewer of them were “true” Mandalorians (or so the rumors went). They were usually hard to read when playing Sabaac.
“Standard entry fees apply?” The Firrerreo pulled out a group of credits offering it to the pot.
Borrag Groth, leaned back and scratched the increasingly tight waist band of his pants. “What do you consider standard? This is a high stakes game. Fifty-thousand to sit down. Thousand credit blinds for new comers on their first hand,” Borrag said through the standard vocalized voice all Mandalorian helmets seemed to apply to people.
As the various people begin to shuffle aside to make room for Kah'ri to sit down you notice that Borrag, despite his bluster you notice he has the smallest stack of chips at the table.
As you settle down at the table you further notice Borrag nervously shuffling and restacking his chips with his hand.
“Oh? Well how about this: <:credit:896304233937260574>5000 to start with and information on something I’m looking for.” Kah’ri said, setting out 5 chips on the table one by one as he spoke. He feigned enthusiasm to hide most of the fact that he felt ill. This was, after all, a just a business game for him so he didn’t much care to be here and it likely showed in his gaze.
“Is that a bet or a down payment?” Borrag asked, pushing out ten thousand chips of assorted types into the pot. He kept glancing at his hold cards as he idly twiddled a credit chit.
“Little bit of both.” Kah’ri responded staring the helmet down.
Cards were dealt and hands held in front of a mix of blank stares, slight twitches, and a spontaneous cough. Kah’ri read through most of the players like large-screen datapads, but the helmet’s sabaac “face” was unusually good, despite his barren earnings.
“You’d better have better than a Fleet.” The modulated voice said laying out a very nice hand. Kah’ri frowned at the set, he was certain the Mandalorian had a worse ioff hand than that. “Aww, see fellas! Newcomer’s nervous!” One of the players jibed. Kah’ri looked directly at the helmet of the man across from him.
“No, I’m not,” he said plainly. Laying his cards out on the table, the Firrereo revealed a Full Sabaac and took his reward from the center.
Aylin had slipped away from the bar with her drink, leaving behind some credits for it. She had plucked out her datapad and tried to find the signal of the one stolen. Siku, her little droid moves its little antenna around to try and help her find it
“Dank farrik,” Borrag exclaimed, throwing his cards down with disgust. Kah’ri had taken a sizable amount of his remaining credits with that hand.
Borrag, fidgeted in his seat as he counted out his remaining chips to buy into the next hand. He was short.
“Look, that’s just luck,” he said, fumbling with his holster. He laid the blaster on the table. It was missing its scope and power pack. A casual inspections reveals both on the table in other players piles of winnings.
“Betcha you can’t do that again. This is good enough to cover my buy in. One hand, all in. What’d ya say?”
Kah'ri frowned at the blaster. “Luck doesn’t seem to run by you much, by the looks of that. And besides that,” he said, setting out a few high-credit chits, “ I don’t believe in luck.”
It was Kah'ri’s turn to deal and he did so on muscle memory alone. A combination of internal exclamations and denials resounded in the Firrerreo’s mind at the sight of his hand. 1 card short of a Straight Khyron and no other alternatives. He had nothing going for him except the completely cold expression on his face.
I hope this works.
Borrag smiled under his helmet. “Sylop Sabacc,” Borrag said, revealing his cards. “I’ve gotta say, you nearly had me there.” Borrag quickly holstered his blaster. “Looks like you’re having the same luck as Tarwie,” Borrag gestured towards a Wookie in the crowd who was nursing a drink at one of the hi-top tables. “I don’t know what crawled up his tree and died but he’s usually good for a few hands. Horrible player,” he said under his breath and he stacked up his winnings.
“But, for whatever reason he’s been keeping to himself tonight. Got really ticked off when I tried to get him to join a friendly game of Sabacc.”
Kah'ri dropped his façade and conceded the win, his attention now on the Wookie at the bar. “Probably in your best interest.” He said politely before excusing himself from the table. “Wait! Sir, your money!” One of the players called out. Still walking, Kah'ri turned and called the sack of credits to his hand with a sharp chink.
“Why did you go and say something,” Borrag said, smacking the guy to his left. “Some weird Force user wants to donate his credits to the table and suddenly you decide to be noble? Someone trade spots with me. This guy is bad luck.”
“Hey, don’t you know who are patron is?” Hibbity gurgled as a squad of Brotherhood stormtroopers entered The Salty Dug. The lead trooper was dressed in glossy black armor with a hooded cloak. The rest of the squad spread out in their normal white armor grabbing people and running a scanner over them.
“I am well aware of the Justicar’s involvement with this establishment. I am equally aware that he has grown impatient with the progress of this search. You will allow us to conduct our business or you will be detained,” the commander pointed his gloved finger into the Mon Calamari’s face to emphasize his point.
Oh no. Troopers.
That’s a creature feature that Nejj wanted nothing to do with. Once more he gripped his non-existent attire, lowering the invisible brim and making himself scarce. At the same time, the Zeltron kept his eyes out for…wide brim hats.
Almost at an inaudible level, Nejj hummed his own spy theme song as he weaved through the crowd. He wouldn’t, nay couldn’t, be found.
-# Troopers? Damn.
Tisto knew he was not exactly skilled at blending in. Still, he did have work to do. The boxer grabbed his drink, making his way further into the bar.
-# I should not have gotten so focused on the match. Well that just won’t make it into the report after this. Now… wide brimmed hats…
The Kiffar did his best to not look suspicious as he moved around avoiding the troopers. The best he could figure to do was look for someone fancy in a wide brimmed hat.
-# Worst case, if I get caught I can ruin some fancy persons day.
Unfortunately in his hurry, Tisto was only able to find one person in a particularly wide brimmed hat. The Wookie did not look overly fancy, still they appeared to be Tisto’s closest lead. So the boxer made his approach, taking a sip from his drink as he got closer.
-# This is a poor time to not be conversational in… damn what did they call their language again?
Without much in the way of options, he approached offer a smile.
||”Game went terribly tonight. I think I lost credits,”|| he complained in Huttese, trying to sound buzzed. ||”What brings you out tonight?”||
Tarwarracca, better known as Tarwie to his friends (of which he had many), turned and looked down at the rather short Kiffar. “||I’m sorry, what are you talking about?||”, Tarwie responded in Shyriiwook being unable to speak in Huttese. he looked anxiously at the troopers before dipping his hat lower and hunching down to speak with the Kiffar.
“||What game did you see?||”, he asked, in painfully slow small-talk.
Wide brim hat on a furry head.
There was a joke there somewhere, just waiting to be told. He could tell it. No one would hear it. Their loss.
Nejj’s golden eyes stayed fixed to the hat-adorned wookiee and the people seeming to converge upon it. In an attempt at nonchalance, Nejj half-stepped his way nearby while miming a carefree whistle.
Don’t be suspicious. Dont. Be. Suspicious.
Tarwie notices the equally short Zeltron whistling nearby. He narrows his eyes suspicious of the new arrival. “||Is that a friend of your’s?||” Tarwie asks the Kiffar, gesturing with a hairy arm towards the Zeltron.
The Brotherhood stormtroopers had begun to disperse amongst the crowd. The music died away as the live band discussed urgently whether they should try to leave out the backstage or if that would draw attention to them.
To Dag’s credit he didn’t bring up the house lights and the troopers had the same challenges as the rest of the patrons navigating the smoke filled cantina. For those patrons that were cleared by the troopers they quickly fled the cantina. No matter how the night was going to end at this point Dag was set to not make a profit.
Lt. Dontavin pulled down his hood as he pushed past several of his white clad troopers interviewing patrons and made his way to the Sabacc tables. “A Mandalorian with just a helmet. Where’s the rest of your armor?” he asked Borrag. The Mandalorian nervously shuffled his credit chips.
“None of your business Imp,” Borrag quipped back.
“Maybe you didn’t notice the emblem but the Brotherhood isn’t the Empire,” Dontavin shrugged his shoulder with the Brotherhood crest upon it.
“Whatever. What do you want?”
“The Justicar is looking for a person of interest. Have you seen anything suspicious today?”
“Ya. You!”
Lt. Dontavin rushed forward and toppled the table into Borrag before tossing it aside. Pulling out his blaster he jammed it into Borrag’s chest. “Let’s see how much bravo a Mandalorian puts on when they don’t have their Beskar on. Spill it!”
“Fine. Fine. Ouch,” Borrag shuffled uncomfortably against the blaster muzzle. “There was someone acting weird here today. A Jedi by the looks of him. It’s that guy over there!” Borrag said, pointing a finger at <@248607477015379987>.
Dontavin jammed the blaster muzzle hard into Borrag’s rib by way of thanks and turned to approach the Force user Borrag identified.
Unsure of what the Wookiee was asking, and realizing this might be one of the few patrons who didn’t speak Huttese, Tisto switched to basic. “The Zeltron?”
He raised an eyebrow at them but figured anyone trying to hide from the troopers could not be too bad. So, might aswell get the upper hand with this pink stranger. “A coworker. Has the worst inspirational posters in the office. You can only see ‘Keep hanging in there’ so often.”
Tarwie shrugged, not sure whether he’d believe the Kiffar or not. “||Sure, right. Want to get a drink from the bar?||” Tarwie asked, noticing that the troopers seemed lighter near the bar. He noticed the Kiffar didn’t quite understand him so he mimed taking a drink and pointed towards the bar.
Tisto nodded at the Wookie’s miming. The boxer quickly downed his current drink, looking over at the Zeltron. “More drinks would be great right about now. To the bar?”
Tisto did not bother to wait for an answer, keeping an eye on the Wookie as he started towards the bar.
Tarwie sighed in relief that the Kiffar got it and trying to keep as small of a profile as possible, he followed him to the bar. With a grumbled motion Dag he motioned for another round.
“||Look, do you think those troopers are going to search everyone or get exhausted and leave?||” Tarwie growled in his native language to the Kiffar.
<@248607477015379987> felt a firm hand grab him on the shoulder and spin him around. Lt. Dontavin stared him down “Identification,” he demanded as Kah'ri found himself flanked by two additional troopers.
Tisto took his time ordering another drink. Not being able to understand the Wookie was very quickly becoming a problem. Still, the former gangster kept his composure, taking his new drink with a smile. “I don’t suppose you know why they are here? Seems they are searching everyone. Know of a good place to hide things?”
Tarwie glanced back at the trio of troopers who had stopped the young man. “||It’s the Imperials they’re always here to oppress. Whether that’s the people or the planets. Not sure why you’re asking about hiding things but The Salty Dug is well known as a place to meet people without drawing attention,||” Tarwie said in a low growl as he accepted his new drink.
“||Why are you here?||”
-# Well he isn’t drawing attention towards me or attacking me. So I seem to be on the right track.
“Well,” Tisto lead, unsure of what the Wookie is saying, but hoping to make an educated guess.* “As I said I am here with a coworker or two. We were sent to make a purchase. If we can make it, I’d like to know where to hide it.”
Tarwie eyed the Kiffer, a growing sense of unease took hold of the Wookiee. The troopers were only a few table lengths away from them and there were to many questions from this little man. “||You should check with Hibbity,||” Tarwie growled gesturing towards the Mon Calamari who had his arms crossed as he stared down the troopers moving through the bar.
“||If you’ll excuse me. I think I see my friend,||” Tarwie said, as politely as he could as he began to slowly move through the crowd towards the stage. The hunched over Wookiee trying again to not draw much attention to himself.
Tisto rolled his eyes at that. Of course the Wookie would make the exact wrong call. The Kiffar snapped his fingers at one of the troopers.
“You. Get me your commander. I am here on the orders of the Justicar. Since you are here you will be helping in this investigation. Besides this whole search everyone thing will only let the culprit get away.”
The trooper cocks his head to the side. “I don’t care who you’re working for. We have our orders and that means you follow them,” her helmet modified voice replied crisply. “Identification. Now!” she snapped, as she leveled her blaster at Tisto.
Kah’ri leaned into the spin and broke the soldier’s grip in one movement, the instantaneous rage in him halted only by the sight of the Justicar’s insignia.
“You first.” The Firrereo growled lowly through his borne teeth. His offhand cautiously reached for its lightsaber as he sized up the troopers.
The two troopers flanking Kah'ri leveled their blasters instantly on the Firrereo. Lt. Dontavin smirked under his helmet.
“I am Lt. Dontavin and if you don’t answer my questions that’ll be the last person you meet.”
Kah’ri relaxed his grip on his lightsaber but still made sure to display his offense outwardly. “Kah’ri Marru.” He started, glaring back at the other two troopers. “Of clan Scholae Palatinae. And If you touch me again, you hand will be gone with just as much warning.”
Finishing his threat, he straightened himself and put on his “diplomatic” face. The contrast in demeanor was stark enough that anyone entering the room would sooner have assumed, by his expression, that Kah’ri was being greeted by a politician rather than a lieutenant of one Dark Council member.
“Good, then you’ll have an ID or code cylinder to present,” Lt. Dontavin said, not impressed.
“Of course.” Kah’ri said with the most fraudulent smile. He pulled out his code cylinder and handed it to the lieutenant, secretly thinking up a plot to have the lieutenant discharged… or better still, imprisoned.
Lt. Dontavin gestured for one of the troopers to take the cylinder. The trooper popped it into his datapad. A few moment later the green light reflected off the trooper’s polished white armor.
“He checks out, sir,” the trooper said, handing the cylinder back to Kah'ri.
“Well, then. An honest Imperial in The Salty Dug. I am surprised. What brings you here?” the Lt. asked, with the curt politeness of someone who has to balance speaking to a superior but still being in a position of potentially having to detain them.
Tisto regarded the trooper with something resembling pitty. This was for all that was going on, just a jobber when it came down to it. “I am Governor Tisto Kingang of Odan-Urr. I am acting under the justicars authority, not your little supervisors. If you fire your pea shooter you will find yourself out of a job. I am quite petty.”
Tisto calmed himself, letting the familiar heat of the Force flow into him. He focused on creating a barrier between himself and the trooper. “Both of our jobs can be done, but you insist on being small.”
Tisto tried to keep an eye on the Wookie. “If you would listen I would tell you what you need. But you seem to think you have some authority here. Good luck with your search trooper.”
The Kiffar turned his back on the trooper, trusting in the barrier and focusing on the Wookie.
“I’ve got an uncooperative by the bar. Requesting back-up,” the trooper stated into her helmet comm. “Sir, produce your ID or code cylinder or you will be forcibly detained.”
Tisto notices three additional troopers arrive. Their blasters pointed at him as they surround him. The only avenue not blocked is the bar where the server droids and Dag have opted to vacate.
Tisto rolled his eyes as he heard the soldier.
-# So annoying.
So he took a second to breath, letting the familiar heat of the Force flow through him as he eyed the bar. With his right hand he pulled out an ‘ID’ reaching to hand it out. Before it could be taken he flicked his wrist, throwing the ID over his shoulder. He pushed the Force through himself, throwing up a barrier, ready to be shot at.
The troopers reacted instantly. “Non-compliance!” the first shouted as she fired her blaster. Thankfully set to stun. The second trooper also fired their arcing blue energy beam at the arrogantly non-cooperative individual.
The third, noticing the target still standing as the energy arced harmlessly away from them dropped his blaster and lunged forward to body tackle the so-called Governor.
Tisto smiled as a brief fight broke out. He quickly shifted into a boxing stance, left leg leading. On the balls of his feet it was difficult to weave out of the way, the trooper clearly trained. The trooper was uncomfortably close to success. Still, the trooper going in for the grapple did better than many the boxer had faced.
Tisto pulled out his actual code cylinder, offering it to the trooper that came in for the tackle, before looking back at those who had fired. “What part of I am protected by the Justicars authority did you miss? I told you shooting me would fail. Now start searching for those in wide brimmed hats.”
The trooper came up short and took the proffered code cylinder. Looking for direction from the original trooper, who nodded their consent still leveling her blaster at the ‘governor’.
The trooper ran the code cylinder through his datapad. A few moments later it beeped an affirmative tone and the light turned green. “He checks out,” the trooper said, as the other two lowered their blasters.
“Why must you Odanintes always make things so difficult?” the original trooper complained while the third gave Tisto back his code cylinder.
Tisto looked back towards the Wookie. “Because it gets things done.”
The governor of Kaal pointed to an alien in a wide brimmed hat at a high top. “He is the only other one with a hat that matches what we are looking for. I’m going after the Wookie.”
Tisto looked at the lack of bar tender with a sigh before making his way over to the Wookie as they tried to sneak away. “If you want to get out of here I have some questions.”
The trooper, begrudgingly, move off to investigate Zheloran Flax. A high-strung and rather annoyed tea farmer.
Tarwie, meanwhile had been having trouble navigating through all the band equipment without raising an alarm. “||What questions and can we walk and talk?||” Tarwie asked, gesturing for himself to continue moving towards the backstage.
Tisto takes a second to read the gesture. “Walk and talk? Sure.”
Tisto started to make his way towards the backstage, keeping close to the Wookie. “Do you happen to have a data disk on you? One that might be considered stolen property?”
Tarwie’s expression was hidden in the sudden shift from the bright neon lights to the darkened backstage. “||No. Why would you ask such a thing?||”
The boxer sighed, annoyed at himself for never taking the time to learn the Wookie language. “If you do, I am here to purchase that data disk. And partially to spite the troopers who just do not know how to listen, I also want to get you out of here.”
Tarwie looked down at the man as he continued to move through the backstage. “||I don’t know what you’re talking about,||” Tarwie replied. “||And, if you look here, that’s the the exit. Thank you for the drink and companionship. May your roots grow deep,||” Tarwie said, by way of an ancient Wookiee sign of respect. With that he put a hand on the activation panel and opened the door to the outside.
Tisto nodded, looking back at the troopers. “There might be more out there. And I think they are looking for folks wearing your kind of hat now. I would ditch that and anything else you might not want them to find friend.”
The boxer offered up a respectful look. “I did say I wanted to help you get out of here.”
Tarwie growled in appreciation and gave a ‘thumbs up’ as he took of his hat and placed it carefully upon Tisto’s head. “||Thank you, friend,||” Tarwie said and he left the room, letting the door close behind him.
Tisto walked back into the bar, not happy at the lack of success in this job. He tipped the hat towards the troopers as he stepped back into the bar.
-# The Justicar may not be happy with how this turned out. What was even on the data disk he wanted anyway?
The Kiffar walked up to one of the troopers. “That one didn’t have the data disk. Any luck on your end?”