The stench of Trandoshan was all that Borrocco could smell in the pea soup atmosphere of The Slimy Hutt. It didn't take long for the bartender to nod her in the right direction -- but she stopped in her tracks and eyed the only Trandoshan in the room talking with the man with a mission. After years of practice and a substituted ingredient of "discipline," B didn't run over to him and tear out his arms, an act any worthy Wookiee warrior would have done for the injustice caused to her species.

She sidled over as best her large feet could carry her across the crowded floor and almost stepped on the Jawa who seemed a little nervous, unsure if the ground beneath him wasn't quicksand.

“I thank you for responding so quickly," He turned to his datapad, but the largest being in the room took no notice, still eyeing the Trandoshan. "Welcome to the Rebel Alliance. I won't say more lest we attract any more attention." Jake nodded at the other tables were a few patrons seemed to be eyeing the mixed group, though the shadows hid them pretty well. "I need you all to leave five minutes apart and head to Docking Bay 34. I have a ship ready there. I’ll leave first."

The Jawa responded first. “...What.”

Jake was already out the door, clearly sticking to protocol and rules. B was beginning to like him already, but when she had asked to work directly for Kashyyyk and her kind, she didn't mean to be working with the species infamous for making such prideful creatures bow down and be sold like dirt.

“...I just wanted a drink.”

The Wookiee looked down at the poor creature who didn't even meet her knees. She spoke with the junky, needing some sort of distraction while she waited for the group to begin filing out. "I might not be a drink." She tried to add some jest to ease the Jawa, "My name is Borrocco, but you can call me B."

After spilling her drink, getting a weird look from the bartender, and finally rereading the message, Nesota ordered her split drink and joined the group in the dark corner of the cantina. She had never met any of the members in the group but she had heard of Jake before. She perched on the edge of the bench in the booth and tried her best to look like she knew what was going on. Old soldier habits die hard.

“I thank you for responding so quickly,” Jake started, working on his datapad. “Welcome to the Rebel Alliance. I won't say more lest we attract any more attention." Jake nodded at the other tables were a few patrons seemed to be eyeing the mixed group, though the shadows hid them pretty well. "I need you all to leave five minutes apart and head to Docking Bay 34. I have a ship ready there. I’ll leave first." Jake stood up and finished his drink, shoving his datapad into his crago pocket. "Try to make sure you’re not followed.” He added then he left the cantina at a slow pace.

Nesota had her orders finally, clear and simple. Except for one thing, it was not specified who would leave first. The jawa looked even more confused than she felt. The Jawa responded first. “...What.” She had traded with Jawas in the past, shrewd little bastards. She couldn't help but respect them though.


“...I just wanted a drink.”

The tall wookie next to her looked down on the jawa and tried to start a conversation. "I might not be a drink." The joking tone caught Nesota off guard. It almost sounded like the beginning of a Corellian pick up line. "My name is Borrocco, but you can call me B."

Nesota picked up a napkin and wiped at the still drying stain from the beverage she had knocked over. She forced a small laugh to help diffuse the tension the wookie was trying to break. "So..." she started awkwardly, "It's really hot out, huh?" Mother always told her that when it doubt polite conversation can always be about the weather when talking to strangers. Too bad mother never accounted for planets with more or less the same hot and dry climate all year long.

The mountain of fur to Izeel’s immediate right suddenly spoke, and for the first time the diminutive trader realized he was in the presence of one of those legendary ‘wookiees’.

The first thing she said was a joke. A bad one

"I might not be a drink." She said, in a clearly jocular tone. "My name is Borrocco, but you can call me B."

Awkward laughing followed from a human nearby, and the wolf-monster-thing started hacking a lung out. Or… was it laughing, too? Kkak swallowed, hard, as he looked around at all the giants gathered. Sure, he could handle them in a one-on-one conversation, but he was on the back-foot here, now. Tossed into the Rebellion, probably being eyed by a spy, surrounded by huge monsters from legend… it was hard to envy Izeel’s position as he nervously glanced around.

“R-right…” He managed, struggling to compose himself. Another hard swallow could be heard from the depths of his mangy hood as he offered a puny hand to the towering wookiee. “I-I’m Izeel. Kkak.” He introduced himself, still working on the composing thing.

“I-it’s a pleasure.” Izeel added, with greater strength. “I’ve never, ah, met a wookiee before. In person.” I thought they just growled and yipped and ripped people’s arms off…

Snikk quietly took a swig from the chipped glass in front of him, letting the flavorful alcohol sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. A cold glass of ruby bliels was his go-to drink whenever he had to go out in the day, which he tried to avoid if he could help it. But with the circumstance of him needing to get off the planet as quickly as possible, it couldn’t be.

The Trandoshan smacked his scaled lips, exhaling heavily as he tried to relax even as his glowering eyes swept across the cantina for hitmen. It was unlikely the gang after him had gotten a tip their quarry was inside the Slimy Hutt, which was one of hundreds of tiny outlets frequented by others that shared the same career as Snikk. But the alien hadn’t survived nearly a decade of pirating and an added few years as a spaceport thug by letting his guard down.

Snikk bristled instinctively as he felt eyes on him, his head swiveling carefully to see what it was. His eyes narrowed when he did.

A Wookie, almost stooped to keep from hitting the low ceiling, glowered hatefully at him. Snikk glared back. Centuries of interracial hatred imbued into each aliens’ culture wasn’t easily shrugged off. The pirate had had to kill one of them as a rite of passage, and his own racial crimes hadn’t stopped just there either.

The Wookie moved on, though Snikk held the glare just a second longer, even if it was directed at the back of her furry head. He almost had second thoughts about the trip.

As the other crewmen and women began to gather and chat, the Trandoshan quickly finished his drink in one last swig; his palate soured with the prospect of who he was going to be stuck on a ship with for who knew how long. But at any rate he’d get to pick his bunk first.

The alien reached under the small table in front of him and hauled out a well-worn rucksack that clanked metallically as the badly organized contents inside wriggled against each other. With a reptilian grunt he heaved it over a shoulder and, barely side-stepping a drunken Duros who was making a determined effort to get to the back end of the cantina, headed for the door.

Snikk squinted against the glare of Tattooine’s twin suns, lifting a small (At least, small relative to Trandoshans at any rate) claw to shield his eyes.

"Your move."
The Trandoshan turned, his rucksack swaying as he looked over at the bouncer who had just started a game of pazaak with Baxter. He snorted as he chuckled to himself, clapping Baxter on his dusty metallic shoulder as he passed by, heading for the hangar.

”Don’t take all day, friend. I’ll see you later.

"Your move."

Baxter entered game mode. He met the bouncer's bet of 5 credits. 10 credits already on the table. Flipped the first card. Baxter ran the programs. Chance and probability, human science and behaviors, Pazaak strategies.

"His attitude and current relaxed state suggest that he is more likely to hit closer to twenty-one. This would either cause him to go over, or allow the use of my side cards to win me the round. However, in the current state of my funds I want to keep him interested and hooked into the game before I bust out the real guns."

Baxter flipped the first card and was about to engage in friendly conversation, and perhaps lower the Bouncer's guard even further, when CLUNK. "VARP!" Baxter exclaimed as a hand clapped his shoulder. Snikk passed by, ”Don’t take all day, friend. I’ll see you later."

"Friend my Shebs. You almost short circuited my core." He said just as Snikk was out of earshot. He realized he returned to his normal voice as he spoke, and received a strange look from the bouncer. In Sexy Female Voice, "Pardon my language, I didn't mean to appear so rude, ha ha. I don't think I caught your name."

"Tyrone" he said.

"Nice to meet you Tyrone, I am Doctor Soto"

Baxter watched the bouncer carefully as he played, remaining relaxed and mostly careless with his cards. They were tied on the sets. One more set to win the match.

Baxter Flipped a Card. 4.

Tyrone Flipped a Card: 9.

Baxter Flipped a Card: Up to 11.

Tyrone Flipped a Card: Up to 14.

Baxter Flipped a Card: Up to 19. "Sithspit."

Tyrone Flipped a Card: 22. Its a bust.

Baxter collected the credits and started the bet again at 5 credits.


The game went rather quickly as Baxter's funds fluctuated, but overall grew substantially. By this time, Baxter had slowed the programs and tried to use what only Tyrone would be equipped with. Tyrone didn't have systems to recall and calculate information and cards. He looked at the deck and had far less idea of what was coming next than Baxter. In a way, Baxter wanted that lack of knowledge. But, then again. That lack of knowledge didn't get Tyrone any extra credits.

Keeping the time in mind, and wanting to know where Snikk had was off to. The game had to come to an end soon.

Baxter took a glace at the credits he had accumulated. He looked at the bouncer.

"Lets end this....I'm all in."

    Tyrone rubbed his unshaven chin angrily as he looked at his hand again, trying to will the cards into better numbers. The frakking droid was beating him again and it was beginning to really grate on the bouncer’s nerves. He should not have taken the bet, he should have just kicked the droid out and left it be. He flipped another card and stared at the 23 with disgust.     

    The damn droid collected the money and reshuffled the deck. Tyrone glared angrily, boring imaginary holes in the droid’s head.

    “Let’s end this…” the droid said. “I’m all in.”

    Tyrone stared at the droid for a few moments, his internal debate still undecided whether or not to take up the droid.

    The internal jury made its final verdict in less than 5 seconds.

    “You’re on.”

    With the chips piled in the center the cards were laid out. Tyrone twitched as he glanced at his deck and realized he was at a serious disadvantage. He looked across the droid, impassive as always as its type was.

    Flip. 4.

    Flip. 10.

    Flip. 15.

    Flip. 17.

    Tyrone began to sweat, his hand twitching over the deck.

    Flip. 25.

    Tyrone looked up, his face a mix of rage and hope. The droid had a perfect 20.

    “SITHSPIT” Tyrone roared as the droid collected the funds. However, before the medical droid could collect more than a handful Tyrone’s rage took a hold and he drew his blaster roaring obscenities. He never managed to land a solid hit in his blind rage and somehow the droid managed to escape with a good deal of the credits, but not all of them. Tyrone kept firing, his bolts grazing the damn droid as it fled, managing to evade the majority of its fire. 

---

    The explosion of blaster fire caused the whole cantina to buzz with energy as the patrons dove for cover. Drinks were spilled, a few blaster bolts managed to hit lights, plunging parts of the bar into darkness. People were shouting as they either ran or took cover as the bouncer caused a chain reaction of itchy trigger fingers to open fire. Amidst the confusion the newly recruited crew managed to sneak out without any problems, hurrying to get back to the ship.

---

    The man in the dark booth swore loudly as blaster fire erupted, as the room lost most of its lighting he lost track of his quarry, the crew vanishing in the chaos that ensued. He snarled as he tried to make his way out but found his way blocked by several patrons fist-fighting.
This isn’t over, Rebel scum… he thought bitterly as he tried to force his way out, thumbing a message on his commlink.

---

Jake was standing at the base of the ramp as the crew began to filter into the docking area. After everyone was aboard, Jake closed the ramp and headed into the cockpit. He flipped switches and began typing in commands as the ship booted up. He flipped on the intercom to make an announcement.

"Welcome aboard, sorry for the quick exit. Brace yourselves, we may have a bumpy ride ahead."

The Narwhal rose quickly into the air and headed for space. Jake glanced at the scanner, noticing something was strange. Something was after them.

"Strap yourselves in!" he roared into the intercom. "We have a bogey and this is going to get messy!"

((Moving the plot along, I have just forced moved you all to the ship, make yourselves comfortable.))
((batmanwayne: You have 57 credits))

“What kind of blasters have we got on this rig?!”

The Trandoshan yelled in his raspy voice as Jake banked the ship hard, narrowly avoiding another hail of blaster fire. He glanced at the scanners, the ship was a Skipray Blastboat, a favorite amongst bounty hunters. The rebel captain swore under his breath his he put the ship into a dive.

“I have one-Dammit!-turret! Controls are up here!” Jake yelled into the intercom in reply. The Skipray was keeping close behind the Narwhal, pouring laser fire at the freighter. Ryker was no pilot, he swerved as best as he could and prayed he could keep it up.

“I need someone to come operate the gun and another to help get the nav computer ready for the jump!” he yelled again.

Nesota winced as the freight banked sharply to avoid getting hit.

“I need someone to come operate the gun and another to help get the nav computer ready for the jump!”

Zig-zagging her way to the cockpit, she caught up with the wookie and patted her on the arm to let her know she was behind her. She'd prefer to make it to the cockpit without the towering female accidentally falling on top of her.

The wookie beat her to the gun but she plopped herself in front of the nav computer instead. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing but hopefully she could remember what she could of her time in the cockpits in the military.

She looked over at B nervously before she fired. "I hope you know how to use that thing!" This was going to be rough.