((OOC: This thread is to get things started for the RPG. All character are allowed to post here regardless of which gang they are currently affiliated with. Civilians are allowed to come too.))

Scourge. Grit turned the name over in his head as he walked in the front door of the cantina.
Your contact will meet your here. Grit was suspicious. He hated being on the defensive, and waiting to be found was just that. He surveyed the cantina with a practiced recon eye.
Maybe he could find someone from Scourge. After all, he was told the person looking for him was the one he spoke with. He had a good ear for voices, General Valrien had always said.
Maybe he could pick up the same voice here, and turn the tables. As he moved through the crowd, he head it. The voice. His instincts told him to move toward a boisterous Negai male a few rows off.
That's him! That's him! His better judgment fairly roared.

Grit walked up to the negai, and tapped him. "Excuse me sir. Name's Grit. I apologize if I'm mistaken, but you sound familiar. Are you here to contact someone?"

ooc//tag- Catika.

Fully clad in his mandalorian armour Solus Tor walked into the cantina, sometimes the best place to remain hidden was to put yourself in plain sight. He quickly took in his surroundings looking for any familiar faces or unusual behaviour. Don't stress so much... he told himself, enough time had passed since that sour op and things would have cooled down by now...or so he hoped.

Sighing to himself he walked straight to the barkeep took a seat and ordered a round of corellian ale.

[Isazu Goroma]

It was Isazu's only day off for the month! He had planned what he would do for the past three weeks. Option one included a day trip to a place that had a beach, drinking too many hard iced teas, then watching evening sitcoms in his flat. Option two comprised of a massage and gorging on food at a nice restaurant. What he ended up doing was drinking himself silly the previous night, sleeping until the late afternoon, then dragging himself to the cantina he went to every other day: the Fortune's Fools. Isazu was miserable until he ordered his favorite sandwich and several glasses of water, and by the early evening he was feeling a little more like himself. A nice Zeltron girl had decided to join him at his booth table, and he was conversing rather animatedly with her when a man approached the table.

"Excuse me sir. Name's Grit. I apologize if I'm mistaken, but you sound familiar. Are you here to contact someone?"

Isazu's face seemed to wilt as he realized that he was supposed to meet someone and he didn't know about it. That's what he got for keeping his comlink turned off the entire day. "Grit!" he said with a nervous laugh. "Wonderful to meet you. Yes. I'm Isazu. We spoke before." Isazu reached into his pocket and got out his com, discovering five messages and seven missed calls from Contardi. She was going to kill him tomorrow.

"Please, please. Have a seat." Isazu scooted closer to the Zeltron girl to give Grit some room. He leaned over and whispered to the Zeltron that he would get back to her later, and she left the table slightly miffed. Isazu composed himself and flashed a smile at Grit.

"First of all, thank you for your interest in joining Scourge. We are pleased to hire you as a valued asset for our team of highly-trained professionals." Isazu nodded at Grit, then lowered his voice. "Now, I simply need your signature on a couple of simple documents, then I may disclose the location of our headquarters."

Isazu took out his datapad and loaded up the documents, then handed it to Grit with a stylus. "All of our members have signed this. It's just to assure that we cannot sue each other for ridiculous things, and you will find that it outlines the payment options that we already discussed. Take a look, then simply sign at the bottom."

[Saki]

“Contardi, this is Saki. We’re done here,” Saki listned to Contardi’s reply as she crouched down by the Weequay’s body to make sure the man was dead. Weequays were like roaches sometimes. After confirming he was dead, she checked his pockets for any valuables. She pulled something out, but tossed it aside after seeing no value in it for herself.

“Yes, Kou and I found both of them… we got the money and the spice back,” she talked back to Contardi on her comm. She stood up and walked away from the body and over to Kou as she silently listened Contardi. After awhile she hung up and looked at Kou.

“Contardi says to leave their bodies here as a message. Now, let’s get out of here,” Saki told Kou as she went with him to his speeder. He talked to her and made comments about the job and she half listened to him as she got in the passenger seat. Kou said something about the cantina and Saki remembered her rotary cannon in the back of the speeder. She didn’t think it was necessary to take on the job, but she liked having the option of it. Every once in awhile Saki would say a word or two to prove that she was listening to Kou. They got to the cantina and Saki got out of the speeder. Kou wanted to celebrate their success. After all, it wasn’t every day when you were able to successfully hunt down the ones who had busted a drug deal in time to get the money and the drugs back. Despite not being much into celebrating, Saki decided a drink or two would be fine.

Saki walked into the Cantina and searched the bar for empty seats. Her eyes stopped on a familiar suit of armor. As much as she wanted to be mistaken, she was sure that the man in the armor was Solus Tor. For a split second she felt like calling it a night and going home. She stayed where she was though. To her, she had done nothing to wrong Solus. Saki had just done what Contardi told her to do. Still… maybe there was someplace other than the counter to sit.

“How bout a booth?” she asked Kou.

[Jiro Kou]

"Damn it," Kou swore as he finally let his blaster-wielding arm relax. The smell of charred flesh reached his nose and the adrenaline began to taper. Saki went to check one of the two Weequays they had just shot down, and Kou went to the other. He tapped the guy with his finger and heard Saki call Contardi. In the Weequay's pocket were his datapad and some credits, then something hit the floor beside Kou that Saki had just tossed from the other corpse. Kou looked at the device and tilted his head. "Ooo, a little media player," he said aloud. He pocketed the device and what he took off the corpse, then he looked to Saki to assure that they were ready to leave.

"Leaving bodies as a message just seems so barbaric," Kou remarked as they went back to his speeder. "We're professionals. Not thugs. Why don't we just mail their heads to the boss while we're at it? Then we can chant in tongues around an open fire whilst dancing in loincloths." Kou liked talking out loud even if Saki didn't listen, which he was 80% sure was true.

Making sure the goods got placed safely in the back of his speeder, Kou drove with extra precaution, having never gotten over the jitters that came with driving with contraband. "You know," he said with a sidelong glance at Saki, "we're brilliant. Not only did we track down the jackholes that ganked our stuff, but we won a firefight and got everything back. I'd call it a pretty good day. So," Kou slowed the speeder to wait in a line of traffic at an intersection, "what do you say we get some drinks and celebrate?"

Kou was surprised Saki agreed. She seemed to tolerate his presence, though she was not adverse to it. For being so laid back, Saki was a hard code to crack. It was in his job description to decode everything to get what he wanted, and one day he would figure out what made her tick.

After parking the speeder and securing it, Kou walked with Saki into the Fortune's Fools. He was about to head straight for the bar when she suggested a booth. Didn't make a difference to him. "Fine," he said with a slow shrug. He could see Isazu talking to a dark-haired man with that air of self-importance that the Negai was so good at relaying. Kou picked a booth far enough away that Isazu wouldn't come over and bother them.

"I'll pay," he offered to his partner in crime. Then he motioned toward the man at Isazu's table. "What do you think? Fresh meat?"

Sipping his drink with a straw through his helmet Solus had the odd feeling that someone had been watching him. He had no illusions about his presence being hidden behind mandalorian armour but he did not concern himself with that afterall most aruetiise(outsiders) were often unnerved by the sight of such armour.

It could have been anyone, he told himself...sure members of the scourge gang came here but so did or at least from what he heard members from Red Flare.

"Maybe I should look into getting a job from them" he whispered to himself, at least that would provide some form of security and a chance for vengeance... "Yes, that is just what i need. Barkeep send me another round!" He would start tomorrow.

Grit

Grit read carefully. "Ok, this'll do. I'm in." Grit said, signing his adopted name and a made up surname. "I guess I gotta work for a living now." He motioned to the barkeep. Sgnt. Skirata had given him a fantastic start, so he almost felt guilty spending some of the creds he had on liquor.
Almost. It was his life now. Do what he wanted. And he wanted to forget about things like that big throw down right here, in the space above Coruscant. So he raised a toast. "To new beginnings."
He toasted his contact. "Let them be profitable, and rewarding in equal measure."


Alara

The nightmare was the same, most nights. She could remember the smashed room, the smoke, the voice pleading for help. At fist she overlooked the soldier on the floor, not aware the clones were men. The blood leaking from the shrapnel impacts on white armor was her first clue that the downed clone trooper was the one asking for aid. "Medic..." A young man's voice coughed weakly. Still, Alara hesitated. The results of the firefight were incredible. A trail of reptilian blood retreated outside. Four corpses, no doubt this trooper's handiwork, lay on the floor. She vaguely recalled a voice shouting for her to get down before the gunfire began. Now the clone...the man who saved her, was slumped against the inner wall, rasping for help. He noticed her standing there, and in one pained motion, removed his helmet. His face was so young.
How could they send so many boys like him to die every day? "Hurt bad..." He said,
looking to her. "Don't wanna be alone here." Gunfire sounded further on. "Your friends will be here soon." She had hastily told him, and scurried out to hole in the wall. Right into the aqualish thug and enslavement.

Alara woke with the trooper's pleading eyes still clear in her mind. "I deserve this. I deserve this miserable existence. I should have helped that poor boy." She nearly wept, both for the soldier
whom she'd simply left ever after he was wounded protecting her, and for her own sorry hide.
The dark cell offered no comfort, and all she could see in her mind as she tried again to sleep was the trooper's face, wracked with pain. The guilt burned like a brand.

[Saki]

“Sound fine,” Saki sat down at the booth and gave no reaction to Kou wanting to buy. As long as there was no ulterior motive behind it. She briefly looked over at the bar and saw Solus Tor order another drink. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her, it was better that way.

“Think of him? No preference,” she told him. Saki looked over at the man Kou was speaking of. The man looked impressive but she wasn’t sure if-

“Do you ever have an opinion on anything?” Kou asked her. Saki put down on her drink and looked over at the red head.

“He looks fit for the job, physically. Whether or not he’s able to deal with our line of work is another question. If he does want he’s told and doesn’t cause any trouble then he’ll be a great asset. I haven’t met him Kou, how can I have a legitimate opinion about him by just looking at him?” Saki asked him. Hopefully that was all she needed to say. She picked up her glass and took a drink.

"No, that's. That's very kind of you," E'cho replied as he tucked his combat sensor into a side pouch and backed slowly towards the cantina with his palms up. "But I am not part of the escort service, ma'am."

A slow grin spread across his lips as the blue-skinned near-human blushed a bright purple.

"Wh-what? Oh my god!" she gasped.

He shrugged. "It's all right. I--"

A cloud of black smoke fell over his flustered form as the speeder roared to life and rejoined the skylanes, taking the random blue-skinned female sentient with it. Rude, but far from a surprising response. E'cho scratched the back of his head, and then gave in to the urge to rub his scalp. The hair was growing back and it itched, but for some reason it felt good to press his fingers into his skull.

E'cho dropped his hands, turned on his heel, adjusted his bantha-hide jacket, and then entered the cantina. The smell of jet juicers, spice and bad food hit him hard, and instantly he relaxed. Cantinas. He smiled. Cantinas were predictable. He pushed past a hovering bartending droid and dropped into the closest bar stool. The metal creaked in complaint at the sudden weight, but E'cho could give a mott's behind.

He placed an order to the bartender--Blue milk, no alcohol, Thanks--and looked over to see just who he plopped down next to.

A Mandalorian. In Mandalorian armor. Spooky.

"Kind of early for a drink, eh?" E'cho asked Solus, complete lack of intimidation upon seeing his own reflection in the visor. At the lack of response, he shrugged and drummed his fingers on the bar top. "Of course, as my brother used to say, it's drinking hour somewhere."

Not that he would know, he didn't remember. But Mandalorians were all about family, right? What a way to start a conversation.

[Kou]

Kou, utterly dissatisfied with Saki's blaise attitude (or lack thereof), glowered at her and asked, "Do you ever have an opinion on anything?"

A tiny grin spread across Kou's face as Saki described to him what she thought of the new recruit Isazu was talking to. Saki was smarter than she let on. Not that anyone thought she was stupid, she just never talked, and people passed their own judgments about what was going on in her head. Kou nodded with approval and picked up his drink, making a motion as if toasting Saki. "Sound assessment."

[Isazu]

"Wonderful!" Isazu said, taking his datapad back from Grit. He took a small datachip out of his pocket and handed it to him. "Here is the location. If you bring anyone else or otherwise leak it, we will send everyone after your head, and you won't like that." Isazu remarked upon this with an incessant smile as if it was impossible for anyone to betray Scourge. "At any rate, welcome. I'm sure you will find this experience to be rewarding."

Isazu became distracted as he saw two of the Scourge members enter the cantina. This was his perfect chance to dodge any sort of commitment for the rest of his evening off. He stood up and motioned for Grit to do the same, then he strode over to Kou and Saki's table. "Why, hello Saki, Jiro." He smiled at both of them, the latter of the two merely scowling. "I just inducted a new member to Scourge. His name is Grit, and he is certainly a fine fellow. I trust that you two will make him feel welcome." The Negai glared down his nose at Kou because Kou had a stupid mouth. Saki, he wasn't so worried about. "Why don't you all have a few drinks together? I must, unfortunately, leave you. Have a good night," he said to the table.

And with that, the Negai whirled around and left the cantina in a flourish.

While enjoying his drink Solus noticed someone sit next to him and order something from the bartender.

"Kind of early for a drink, eh?" the stranger asked. Solus slowly turned to face him, more often than not the sight of his T-Visor would warn people to back off or at least shut up but either this guy didn't even seem phased by it.

He had respect for those who could look a mandalorian in the eye...or in this case the T-visor and not be unnerved...this one was ok in his books.

Finishing his drink he gave a goodbye nod to the stranger and turned around just to see a 3 members of the Scourge gang talking, they weren't paying him attention so that was fine...then he realised that Sakki was there with them...he didn't really know how to react or if to do anything at all.

Wake up! What's wrong with you? Solus shook himself out of it. Stay focused you have a job to do or will have one soon. The best thing he could do now was to contact a member of Red Flare he had never worked for them before but he knew one thing, seek the enemy of your enemy and you'll find a friend

No time to waste then, and with left a reasonable amount of credits on the counter, got up and walked out of the cantina. Well aware that he was not doing so discretely. The time of hiding is over the time for vengeance has begun.
(OOC: need assist with being employed by Hec somehow as his body guard)

A nod! thought E'cho, thrilled. He turned on his stool to lean his back against the bar and stretched his legs out, dangling his elbows off the side and idly sipped his sweet drink.

People entered the cantina. This was not unusual, as crowds of varying notoriety and moral fiber often filtered in and out of said establishments to mingle with each other. Such was the nature of cantinas. E'cho merely watched the crowd with feigned interest.

The Mando beside him stood up and nodded again, presumably as a sign of goodbye, and E'cho responded with a casual salute, touching two fingers to his brow with a half smile.

A pause. A hefty sum of credits slapped down on the bar. The Mandalorian clearly enjoyed leaving a nice tip, E'cho decided as he watched the armored man make a speedy, and not-so-silent exit. Weird. But, again, not all that unusual for a cantina.

It could be trouble, said a voice in the back of his mind that distinctly did not sound like his own. That Negai just left not too long ago.

E'cho let loose a sigh. Not his problem.

Unemployment, however, was his issue. He turned on his stool and cradled his drink between his hands on the bar. The bartender, a wiry looking fellow, stared down at him.

"Y'need sometin', ma-a-an?"

"I could use some work," E'cho replied with a raised brow.

"D'hell dat mean, you not be payin' for dat drink dere?" The bartender nodded towards a particularly rotund Gamorrean hanging by the door of the cantina. "He done eat dose who skip out on d'bill, ma-a-an."

E'cho blinked, and a heartfelt grin slipped over his face. "You know I'm good for it. I'll pay. Don't worry about that." A credit chip found his way to his fingers, and he waved it in front of the bartender's nose. "'Course, I may have a little extra for a reliable tip to find some work. I need the credits, mate. And I do mean reliable."

The bartender plucked the chip from E'cho's two fingers and bit a corner as if to be sure. The gesture struck him as odd, but E'cho didn't comment on that. Instead he downed the rest of his drink. His glass hit the bar top with a soft click.

"And while you decide who to point me to, how about a refill?"




((ooc: Some help here... would be awesome.))

[Catra Shaadlar]

Saviin, her older sister who could survive a strut down a Lower City, Taris street wearing her skivvies and slathered in honey, once told Catra not to enter any shady-looking cantinas without a trusted ally. She was also the one that told her that in full beskar, a bartender would never ask for identification. With such mixed signals, Catra simply couldn't help but find herself wandering into the Fortune's Fools. She was a stranger in a new land and this seemed to be the only place that wouldn't involve a spice deal. If she was lucky.

Catra hooked her thumbs on her belt and crossed the cantina from the main entrance with her shoulders straight and her chin slightly lifted. Her father always stressed good posture and had more than one annoying saying about it. There was only one seat open at the bar, and it was beside a man with a scarred face (E'cho). Catra plopped onto the seat, waved the bartender over, and ordered a beer.

After the drink was placed in front of her, Catra popped the seal on her helmet and took it off, setting it between her and a large Trandoshan to her right on the bar counter. Then she took a long gulp and couldn't help but listen to the scarred man beside her.

"I could use some work."

Catra pondered as the conversation continued. She didn't really want to work with Red Flare. Not more than one or two jobs. Then it struck her: if she found a big beefy guy to take her place, Hec Kohler wouldn't be sore about her leaving. Catra blinked and stared down at the pale amber liquid in the glass, gathered up some courage, then turned to the man with a friendly smile.

"Why not work with Red Flare?" she asked him. How does one make a gang sound like a good job? "The pay is really decent." Bank on the fact that the person in question doesn't know it's a gang?

"The pay is really decent."

Those were certainly the right words to perk his interest. E'cho glanced down at the small female in full Mandalorian regalia, and arched a brow. Maybe today was some kind of holiday. What else could explain two Mandalorians in one day, when he hadn't seen one in a few months? At least this one seemed a little more friendly than the other one.

"Red Flare, huh." His lips quirked in an enigmatic smile. "I'm sure they do. Unfortunately, as you can probably see," he paused to wave an empty hand at the steadily rising number of people in the cantina, "I'm having some difficulty... locating one offering a job. And I doubt they'd be interested in this type of clientele, so I'm still stuck here."

He let loose a sigh as he looked up and realized, too late, the bartender had migrated to the other end of the bar. So much for getting his credit's worth of social networking.

At least the kriffing tapster left him a refilled drink.

He sighed and took a long sip of the blue milk. The sugar hit his system and took effect near immediately. He didn't fully understand why sweet treats lightened his mood, but he knew better than to over-examine such things.

"Or," he added as an afterthought, "I'm stuck here unless that barkeep decides to be a little more forthcoming with the pleasantries when he rounds this side of the bar again. Either way, I'll have a name, or my credits." Or both. "Nice armor, by the way, pateesa."