Log:Hutt Cartel: Consolidation of Power, Pt. 2
Step 2: Retrieve an asset before it can escape from beneath the thumb of the Hutts.
OOC Date: March 18, 2022
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Borgol the Hutt as Self/GM, Amallia Madine, Fshmaw, Hahtavi Kora, Jundani Meru, Khalim, Risani, Snogrutt, Zavr Drick, Hutt Cartel
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Night has come to Nar Shaddaa, but for the Smuggler's Moon that truly means very little. Especially for the lower levels. That's not where a team of operatives - whether directly or through contractual agreement - working for the Hutt Cartel find themselves. At present the team is monitoring the starsport district. In particular a very specific publicly accessible hangar. Their objective? Locate a Twi'lek that is, technically, currently employed by the Hutt Cartel. The Twi'lek in question is reported to be male, orange in pigment, brown eyes, sporting tattooed lekku, and goes by the name of Gad.
Thus far as the evening continues to unfold, let's been no male Twi'leks with orange skin pigment, brown eyes, or sporting tattoos on their lekku. In fact if one were to really focus on keeping track, there's been very few Twi'lek that have enter the public hangar at all in the last two or three hours.
That is until a few Twi'lek show up. If by a few one were to take a rough head count of approximately forty to fifty Twi'lek that make up a veritable sea of colors, heights, sexes, and other appearances. Some are dressed in simple traveling garb, others are wearing cloaks of one shade or another, but as they continue their march toward the starport's public hangar they begin to move in random directions as though suddenly of a mind to see to entirely separate business.
[ Snogrutt (Snog)]
Snogrutt is here! He's mean, he's green, he's also hungry. "tearh ofiraaphaa wefufea yfafepae atyfoo ghiethivoow eazoghoohep gafoonu gafoonu." he mutters, "atyfoo fuvana as, zoos eapeadaefa." he adds, just to be clear. The surely Gamorrean holds his axe in one hand as he sort of stands in the middle of the group. "ies iepalos... gafoonu... ghevaethie aagonyr ghataezar tearh aafiehafas... ivu tearh py etaetutov haamoz ajuw om? tearh isiepeas ghevaethie ivu toogeatheaghaa aapophet haamoz aghal ghevaethie agaame..." he mumbles, looking down at his tummy, "aapophet tearh ofiraaphaa dyrhidathu aafiehafas hoofooph metudiel ghiethivoow zaru ghiethivoow lae.. ofiraaphaa ehaam ghiethivoow uvad ghiethivoow oon yn as... gafoonu zoos as." he points at some obscure member of the party, who is much smaller in scale than the Gamorrean. [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Jundani Meru (Jundani)]
The public hangar was just that, public. And that meant busy. Full of ships, fighters, passengers and crew. Seated on the access ladder currently attached to a HLAF fighter parked up on the second tier of berths, sat Jundani, going over what looked to be a list of repairs with one of the many nameless mostly faceless service droids that manned the hangar space. Whatever it was they were saying was obviously not going to either of their satisfaction, and neither looked up as the crowd of twi'lek made their way inside and started making the place even more crowded than it already was.
[ Fshmaw (Fsh)]
Fshmaw waves off S3-P0Y, for the moment. Realizing the time has come to arrange the collar, Fshmaw pulls up his own hood and adjusts his foam-rubber lekku. With the flood of 'Twi'lek shaped persons' incoming, he clearly hopes to just... melt unnoticed... into the evening shuttle-rush until the grand reveal!
[ Khalim (Kh)]
A job for a Hutt. The up-armored Mirialan that had arrived with Borgol's team had told a few comrades he was doing a job for 'Hup', an Alderaanian paladin. But here he was instead, back on this neon-soaked moon and on the hunt for a delinquent Twi'lek. "How ironic," he'd grunted some time ago, while passing Jundani on another patrolling circuit, "that of all the places in the galaxy, we can't find Twi'leks here, where they're so very highly valued." That last bit had come out as a bit of a verbalized scowl. Lekku on Nar, of course, were usually attached to a slave. Erm, indentured servant, in polite parliance.
The situation changes, though, with the arrival of that huge group and as they begin milling about. A 'pad has made its way into Khalim's hand and he refreshes his memory of just what those tattoos look like. Does he see any? Not yet, no.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
For a Bounty Hunter of the Guild, there is software a Mandalorian can utilize in the helmet for facial pattern recognition. It's not a fail safe by any means but it is potentually helpful to spot possible bounties. /If/ a facial scan could have been provided when asked for, Hahtavi will be utilizing this image software as he uses his helmet optics to zoom in on faces and track possible targets, recording their facial patterns to match against the master data.
So it is that the Mandalorian in the black armor stands off to the edge of a wide open public hangar and watches ships disembarking, people arriving to board ships in particular, or just generally skulking around. And not just Twi'liks because one of them could try to pass themselves off as a Togruta with some creativity.
Hahtavi leans against the hangar's durasteel frame looking board with arms crossed over his chest, kimogila skin cape hanging over one shoulder. Even though his helmet has the option of a 360 degree view, he's focused in carefully on the group of Twi'leks. He pushes off and starts walking in their general direction, scanning faces and looking not just for a gender and color match, but more importantly for a face that will match certain basic hard to disguise feature marks. Unless the individual is wearing eye coverings of some kind or a facial scarf, of course.
If Haht was unable to get that facial scan data? Well, then he'll have to wing it like the rest of them.
[ Risani (Ris)]
With her ship, the 'Tailspin' sitting in the public hangar, Risani lingers near the base of the ramp in totally unexpected garb: a crimson-hued bikini with a floral wrap for modesty about her waist. Tucked in to her ear a faux hibiscus variant adds to her tropical flair. Her setup is simple: a fold-out table, a colorful tablecloth, flimsiplast advertisements, a holo of Chandrila, and her gleaming smile to call over any sentient that will pay attention to the fabricated contest like moths to the flame.
"Hi there everyone!" Risani waves aggressively as she calls out with her sugary voice at a pitch that tries to suppress the din of air traffic. "Come and visit sunny Chandrila! The crown jewel of the Republic, it's known for its safety, beaches, and unpolluted air!" She actually believes this part, making it a fairly easy sell. "Come on by to drop off your name and a holonet mailing address for your chance to win an all expenses paid trip with hotel accommodations near the Silver Sea and an opportunity to visit the Hanna Institute of Antiquities!"
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
The crowd of Twi'leks have began moving. Some go this way. Others go that way. Some halt in place and begin making small talk with one or two others among their mob. One or two even start running, seemingly in a random direction; only to encounter another of the mob as though they're having a reunion in the public hangar. While there's plenty of Twi'lek that have arrived? That's also adding to the traffic that had already been present before the arrival of the Twi'lek crowd. Now that the Twi'lek mob has joined the fray, the hustle and bustle of the public hangar has become a few steps closer to a scene of pure chaos. Faces and colors flash by, was that a tattoo? Were those brown eyes or purple? Was that a Twi'lek or a Nautolan that just went by?
[ Snogrutt (Snog)]
Snogrutt knows he is too fat to run, and probably far too recognizeable as a Hutt-crony to be stealthy. Instead, the Gamorrean moves towards one of the main exits, hoping to at least filter some of the crowd as the move to leave the Spaceport, or shy away the Twi'leks from taking the easy way out and forcing them towards his more nimble compatriots! Snogrutt remembered the boss wants them alive, and collared, so he keeps his axe nice and low to remove any temptation.
[ Jundani Meru (Jundani)]
"Well, with the recent political upheaval, they've become a rare commodity than ever, and those who have them for chattel are keeping them close." And then the Twi'leks disperse and the droid who was arguing with Jundani steps aside, as she waves him off, eyes narrowing as she looks down from her high vantage spot, seeking for the one they are looking for, as her fingers sweep across the datapad, lips pressed into a line before they curve into a wicked smile and she nods to herself. "Things proceed as they were intended to."
Those who are preparing to leave or already in the process receive a standard update to their ship's computers. 'As part of the change in management of the district, the docking systems for the hangar have received a routine update. Ships will resume embarkation and debarkation from the hangar as soon as possible. The alert continues: Anyone wishing to be compensated for the automatic fees applied for duration of stay may apply to the main office for a credit.'
Jundani's tartly accented voice comes across the groups comms. "I make one potential contact heading for the starliner at berthing 1D-F7. Bright yellow cloak, hood up, appears to be an orange male fitting the general description. No confirmation on the tattooing."
[ Fshmaw (Fsh)]
Fshmaw reminds the crew, while beginning to head in that direction: "He'll be headed for Ryloth, directly or indirectly. Safe to ignore passages to sectors outside the target-zone." He shoulders and bumps his way along, foam lekku jiggling. Maybe the disguise works? Maybe? Anyway his dialogue is filtered by the MTD at his waist, a hollow mechanical voice through the comm.
[ Khalim (Kh)]
Khalim's slow circuit brings him first, and briefly, near Hahtavi. The black of that plate is familiar and the Mirialan slows in both pace and survey. In fact, he stops. "Been a while," comes the soft grate of a man that had, indeed, not seen the Mandalorian for at least that long. Whatever 'a while' was, in Mando'a, that was how long it had been. The emerald helmet of that reclaimed late-model clone armor remains tucked in the man's right arm, so it's his voice Hahtavi hears, rather than a vocoded approximation. The light green discoloration of a scar, once severe but now healed (the miracle of bacta!), runs from right brow to mid-cheek. It looks as if no eye should exist, given the route of whatever it was that had been inflicted upon Khalim, but an unmarred, perfectly functional right eye looks out. "If these Twi tourists get unruly, shoot that rocket away from me." The quirk of a grin, and he's moved on.
His circuit next brings him near Risani, and there's a genuine brow raising at the sight of the farghul selling time-shares or something. He'd missed that part of the plan. A simple nod is shared with the woman, and his gaze slips away, to a handful of over-exuberant Twi'lek in the midst of some manner of reunion, as he asks, "You know the worst thing about Chandrila?" Without waiting for an answer he provides it, "You can't escape the Chandrilans."
Jundani's warning draws the Mirialan's attention towards the F-row of service revetments. Khalim's helmet, still cradled in hand, is raised and then secured over his head. Target tracking software begins crunching numbers, though it's not been given anything specific yet to focus upon. It likes to find return fire, Lekku aren't really its thing. He begins making his way in that Twi'lek's direction, eyes alert and scanning for the mark they've all been looking for.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
There is no haste. Only relaxed walking, looking this way and that, slow moving through the crowd to search the faces. They look happy at least. Hahtavi is polite as he goes about it. Hulking Mandalorian in black battle armor, armed to the teeth, but he pauses when people are briefly in his way, nods politely to those who get out of his way. Perfectly civil rather than attempting to be beastly and imposing. Surely there's some intimidation as he moves slowly through them but the Kora is calm and quiet, doing nothing to indicate hostility.
Aware others are also looking, Haht doesn't grow concerned when he doesn't seem to spot the individual he's looking for right off. All the same, Hahtavi's also watching out for anyone who takes note of him and looks nervous, who decides to head out suddenly after looking in his direction.
Jundani's voice inside of his helmet's com. Hahtavi's baritone rumbles, <<"Either of you near him to see if you can detain?" Hmmm, Ryloth, maybe. Oops, there's Khalim even now. <"Elek, it has. Good to see you.">
Without haste, Hahtavi starts moving in the general direction that Jundani has indicated. The Mando sticks out too much in this group to hurry without frightening people and drawing a lot of attention to himself. Meanwhile, Haht keeps a sharp eye out for other possible matches as he goes.
[ Risani (Ris)]
That was the problem with all of this. No planning. With the group scattered to the wind without any sort of structure, Risani's content to ignore the raven-haired woman's information as it comes to her in a crackly parlance. The cheap earpiece clipped to the inset of the conch of one of her saucer-like ears is hardly made for her physiology and makes for a subpar experience; especially with all the craft interfering with the signal.
"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious," Risani fabricates a laugh as Khalim, the pear-hued Mirialan, engages in small talk with the tawny-furred woman. Offering up a flimsy, her brow furrows subtly and she talks in hushed tones forced through her clenched, obligate-carnivore teeth. "I'm trying to work here." A sharp rise of her eyebrows and a subtle tilt of her head suggests that Khalim should, at the very least, be moving on to something more productive. "Come visit Chandrila soon!" The last part is sung loud and sprightly.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Ascending the steps leading into a run-of-the-mill starliner is an individual in a bright yellow cloak, partially concealing the lekku of the orange-skinned Twi'lek. He spares a look over his shoulder across the duracrete floor of the public hangar. At first he seems to simply give Nar Shaddaa one last look before he turns away and ventures forth into his future. That is until he spots someone wearing vintage Republic trooper armor painted emerald green with some dashes of pulsar yellow thrown in. That in and of itself catches the eye, but it also results in the orange-skinned Twi'lek's own brown eyes alighting with surprise. It doesn't take long for him to tear his gaze away from Khalim and the armor that he wears, turn his attention away, pull the hood of his cloak up a little higher, and step forward into the starliner.
[ Snogrutt (Snog)]
Snogrutt can tell no one is really going to be leaving through the exit. "aghooz." he grumbles, foiled! The Gamorrean lumbers towards where he thought everyone else was heading. the Starliner lumbers into view but the Gamorrean is having to pick up the pace to catch up. He wheezes, cardio not being his thing. "fadewaetoo, ohuny zoos kelaelasoo! tearh ofiraaphaa noosaazutie ghevaethie iekoove ma!" he gasps as he plods along, his face turning a brighter shade of green from exertion. [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Jundani Meru (Jundani)]
Jundani rose from where she was sitting, having, it seemed signed off on the repairs of the HLAF, beginning to make her way towards the stairs heading to the other berthing sectors, heading in the general direction of level one where the starliner is. She kept her datapad in hand, keeping track of whatever it was that was being output there. "The ship's registry states that the starliner the possible target is now stepping into is bound for Ryloth. I am verifying the other destinations, but there are a number of ships now in holding to depart."
[ Fshmaw (Fsh)]
Fshmaw throws elbows, running without a care, foam tentacles *wildly* askew. (Is the one with a microphone the third one?!) He fights his way past persons of non-interest, trying to clear his line-of-sight for a possible shot at Gad's feet or knees. Somewhere non-lethal. "Target's got wings! Do we have anyone in the air?!"
[ Khalim (Kh)]
Risani receives a subtle quirk of a smile and takes that brochure. "Well thank you for the information. I do believe Chandrila sounds like a wonderful place to visit free of charge." Spoken perhaps a little too enthusiastically, and a little too loudly. But then his helmet's on. And he's gone.
Gad. His name is Gad "Target" Lekku - that's the name Khalim has granted the Twi'lek at least - and there's a shared stare as the group's mutual mark stops and regards the Mirialan's approach. He's made some attempt to be, well, at least quiet. Not exactly dashing from cover to cover, but that armor... it's primary coloration is of brilliant emerald, and it invites eyes. Pretty, not stealthy. Great armor for a parade ground when polished to a shine. Which it is.
As Gad disappears through the vessel's passenger entrance, Khalim hurries after. He squeezes past a handful of the Twi'lek's fellow passengers, earning a couple of annoyed expletives in the process. <"Sorry, sorry, official business,"> he offers in apology. Reaching the top of those steps, Khalim finds himself in front of one of the vessel's flight attendants. <"Private security,"> he states, his voice lightly vocoded. A point is made at Gad's back. <"That passenger. Twi'lek. His name is... Gad... His luggage was sent to the wrong starliner."> A datapad is produced, held by armored fingers. <"He needs to sign this handling waver for us to reroute it by courier.">
It's an attempt, at least. Though concealed by his helmet, Khalim beams his most winning smile. Perhaps it translates in some form.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
There are a LOT of people in the way. Hahtavi uses them to keep a direct view of himself obscured, as well as utilizing cover briefly as he moves towards the ship indicated. Once he's clear of the hangar however and gets more space, and can not see the bright yellow cape and hood, the Mandalorian fires off his jetpack.
Boots leave the duracrete. Up he sails, obvious now to anyone who hears the jetpack or sees the black armored figure heading towards the ship.
Hahtavi sets down and then quietly resumes walking without hurry, quietly starting up the ramp. Over their shared coms he says, <<"Heading up into the ship to look for our 'friend'.">> The bounty hunter is prepared to show his Guild ID if anyone on board the ship wishes to stop him and check for a boarding pass.
[ Risani (Ris)]
"Kriff it," Risani huffs. The ruse is going nowhere unless one counts success by the number of awkward photos now lurking in peoples' personal devices of a furred sentient in tropical wear. With the group putting all of their eggs in one suspicious basket, there seemed to be little point to continue to play the airheaded hospitality enthusiast. Risani throws aside her persona, flips the table to scatter shoddily printed flimsies to the wind, and scampers up the ramp of her craft.
"Zavr would be one ragey rancor if he saw us doing this girl," Risani muses quietly as she hops the armrest and sinks in to the pilot's seat of her YT-1760. With a flurry of barely remembered activity, she flicks switches and pushes buttons to bring the craft to life. With her hands on the yoke, her gold-flecked eyes lose focus, her attention distant. Then a deep breath violently exhaled. "Okay, let's do something stupid."
The transport shakily lifts off the ground and teeters as Risani does her best to twist the craft in place and angle it towards the starliner. Punch it! The thought is coupled with a firing of the thrusters as she ramps up the fuel intake and surges the craft forward. Screaming the entire time over the comms, the Farghul squeezes the transport around the much larger craft and whirls dangerously close to plant the 'Tailspin' right in front of it in a leisurely hover.
"Oh void," Risani breathes heavily, eyes wide, hands shaking. "I'm alive." The felinoid pads herself, checking that all of her limbs are intact. "I'M ALIVE! I AM THE GREATEST PILOT TO HAVE EVER LIVED!" Tugging at her lower eyelid on one side and sticking out her tongue, she makes a rude gesture at the pilots of the starliner.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Amallia Madine didn't arrive at the Starport with the intention of getting caught up in a kerfluffle. She didn't even come here to do normal Starport stuff. No, Amallia Madine came here to eat a fried, sausage-wrapped egg on her favorite bench and people watch. And maaaaaaaaaan, there is a lot to people watch. There's that ever-present Risani shouting about Chandrila and Khalim talking to her. Then there's movement. People jumping. People running. She lifts her chin and eyes up to follow that motion and she lifts one of those eggs to her lips to take a bite. Her teeth sink into that egg just as Hahtavi jets into the air in pursuit of -something-. Someone? A bit of that yolk squirts out the sides and lands on Mollie's right thigh.
"Ahhhh, kriffin'..." she murmurs around that bite of egg. She shoves the rest into her mouth and starts to chew while attempting to dab the yolk off her blue jeans with a napkin.
When Mollie's finishing wiping up her jeans, she sees Risani literally flip her table and run to board her ship, Mollie exhales a sigh and rolls up the bag containing the rest of her sausage-wrapped fried eggs. "Well, if that's not a sign, I don't know what is. On your way, Amallia Madine. Time to see what's up in the Starport," she says. The young woman pushes herself up to stand and, big dumb idiot that she is, decides to head in the direction of all the commotion. A catlike curiosity that will, hopefully, not prove fatal.
[ Zavr Drick (Zavr)]
Zavr Drick enters into the Starport, a tool bag in hand. He's got a datapad in the other hand and he mutters, "Let's see... The Graceful Askajian.. Graceful Aska..." Zavr pauses, making a face as he looks down the ramps and at the people milling about in the crowd. "Ugh, maybe I *should* get some more of that stuff. Despite what Shaali said about where it comes from." A deep, centering breath is taken and then he's pushing into the crowd himself, muttering to himself, trying to picture being as small and neutrally scented as possible. Oblivious to almost all the various lives closing in on him, except when they touch him, he heads for a light freighter with a dancing Askajian woman painted across the hatch of the main air lock. And happily there's no way Zavr hears Risani's musing so he's safe from that particular ulcer at the moment!
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Once aboard it doesn't take long for the Guild's bounty hunter in the form of Hahtavi to locate the acquisition. The staff board the starliner are prompt in stepping aside once the hunter in the black armor makes his credentials known and, frankly, even before then. The Twi'lek, Gad, is already begging and pleading even before Hahtavi Kora's preparing to put binders on the orange-skinned Twi'lek, "Listen! I'll pay you, just don't take me in, okay? I'm heading home. I'll never leave Ryloth again and I'll never talk about my job to anyone," but he's already talking about his job or, at the very least, giving some indication that there's something to know. Which already has other passengers aboard the starliner looking toward the Twi'lek with curiosity. While others have the good sense to look away and pretend that he doesn't exist.
Even after the binders are placed Gad, he doesn't move to attack Hahtavi. Instead he simply keeps trying to convince the bounty hunter to release him, "I have exactly four-point-five children, please, let me go... the point-five is one on the way. Want to see a holo of them?" He asks this with hope ringing within his voice. As though he's simply confident that specific detail and offer will be his salvation.
[ Snogrutt (Snog)]
Snogrutt arrives at the Starliner's entrance, grumbling as he tries to stand up on his tippy-toes to see over the crowd. "aghooz, hi kooph sat fevierh sigh hi as." he grumbles, reaching to his belt and unhooking the specially crafted collar, for the Twi'lek, "toogeatheaghaa ofezaaghae hageav as searoothag kosa sas seaparh thaa.. tearh lej.. ghuh ef ytugaghugh ghiethivoow erhafaathef uhefevus azijinoo ghitiety yrieg." [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Gad also adds, as though it may help increase the likelihood of his release, "I didn't even work for Borgol!" He then goes on to reinforce that point, "I worked for his uncle, but never the spawn of Vargoola. I know it's Borgol that wants me, but I didn't work for him. Let me go, please" he ends, sounding quite pitiful.
[ Jundani Meru (Jundani)]
"I hope she knows a good mechanic who can repair the damage to her landing struts." That comment was a mild one, as Jundani hopped the last few steps down to the level of the starliner, heading in that direction. The transport Risani had jumped into had been locked down, as every other ship in the hangar was. Systems updating and all. "Hahtavi, Khalim, is the target suitably IDed and in hand?" This would, of course, determine when the system would finally decide to stop updating and actually allow the ships currently grounded in the hangar to begin making their departures.
'Don't forget to ask for your credits, sorry about the delay, folks!' (Just a message from your friendly neighbourhood port authority.)
[ Khalim (Kh)]
Hahtavi steps right past Khalim, beginning that interception and apprehension, but that flight attendant doesn't move for the Mirialan. That story wasn't bought, and still isn't. With a sigh, some element of which escapes in lightly vocoded form, an identicard is slipped from a hip compartment. <"Move aside,"> comes the Mirialan's instruction, and fortunately this time he is unobstructed.
Though one Mandalorian is generally enough, there is always advantage in backup and Khalim enters the starliner's cabin with an eye upon those passengers nearest Hahtavi and Gad. <"Everyone stay in your seats please,"> he says, ignoring Gad's mewling. Jundani's voice comes across his helmet's integrated comms and he answers, <"Target is in hand. Hahtavi is processing. I believe ID to be positive but Hahtavi will confirm."> Teamwork.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
It's all done calmly, with practiced ease. Through his helmet's vocoder his baritone rumbles low, <"You can not bribe me to breach a contract, citizen."> The Guild's flexcuffs are strong but humane. The Mandalorian isn't rough, Hahtavi is being quite civil. He's not however paying much attention to the dribble coming out of the Twi'lek's mouth. One armored gauntlet has the man by and upper arm and gently but firmly the Kora makes their 'man' walk ahead of himself, keeping a grip on Gad as they begin to debark. A polite nod is given to the ship's crew as he leaves without hassle.
As they come down the ramp, Snog is noted. When they are clear of the ship, Hahtavi stops to let the Hutt's Gamorrean colar the Twi'lek if that's what he wants to do. Resolutely the Mando says nothing to Gad's gibbering.
To Jundani, Hahtavi speaks up, <"Elek, matches the facial scan. It's him."> Aye, Khalim's efforts were noticed and appreciated to keep things orderly.
[ Risani (Ris)]
"All that for nothing?" Risani huffs and slaps the arm rests of her chair. The day had been one nonsense event after another what with the grabby Gamorrean and a trip across space that nearly left her wetting herself. Add to that traipsing about in a swim suit on Nar Shaddaa of all places and the summary boils down to being thankful for at least being alive. She snaps the elastic of her bikini top with a hook of her thumbs and veers the freighter away from the front of the starliner and vectors it back to her parking space. This time, without the rush of adrenaline and the confines of time making her do risky things, it's a fairly uneventful trip.
But there's a red button flashing on the console. The Farghul expects the ship to cachunk as the landing struts absorb the weight of the craft and being it to a soft landing but they are curiously missing. What should've been the hiss of hydraulics is instead the crunching and groaning of durasteel as she belly flops the tarmac.
Stunned, all Risani does is sit there for several heartbeats before burying her face in her hands. Her ears droop to fold as flat as manageable against the crown of her head.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Mollie continues to move through the starport at a fairly lazy pace, though her eyes are up and tracking the motion of the individuals she's following towards the ship where Hahtavi is beginning to disembark Gad's craft. She reaches her free hand up to lightly push a bit of blonde hair from her face and behind her ear. The Mandalorian might not be listening to the man's pleading, but Amallia certainly is. Those big green eyes flick from the Mandalorian to his captive, and then back to the Mandalorian again. Four and a half kids is a lot of kids, after all. She turns her head to the side, lips turning down into a frown, but there are others.
Don't be stupid, Mollie Madine.
She looks up and towards the ship that's begun to steer away but, for now, it appears as if she's choosing not to get involved.
[ Zavr Drick (Zavr)]
Zavr Drick has a work order and everything, so he just walks up to the ship, pops his datapad's connector into a slot, and pulls up some diagnostics information. "I swear, these hot shot pilots. It's all just switches to the hitches with no concern for the hunk a metal they're straddling." The sound of a toppling table is enough to bring Zavr's attention around and he blinks, tilting his head at the upturned piece of furniture. "Gosh. Some people are crazy. This is a busy starport... Whoever that was coulda hurt someone." Where's Space-OSHA when you need it? Finally the presumed owner of the ship shows up and Zavr exchanges a few words via intercom before getting to actual work, ducking under the parked ship and pushing himself half up into some landing gear.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Gad goes quietly. Well. Without a fight. He's not quiet. In fact he's perhaps a little too talkative, even as he's marched down the boarding ramp of the starliner and toward Snogrutt, "Oh hello," he greets the Gamorrean, trying to muster of a bit of normalcy for their initial interaction, "Are you here to release me? Let Borgol know that I received his message, but I'm not interested in providing him that information. I just want to go home. I'm done with this job since his uncle's death. I just want to go," he says again with brown eyes that look to Snogrutt with a great deal of hope twinkling within their wide-eyed depths.
Gad's brown eyes turn from Snogrutt to the collar in his hand, then ack to Snogrutt. He squirms and struggles against Hahtavi's grip, but to no avail. With much protest, he's soon wearing that collar and in the custody of Snogrutt the Mighty.
[ Snogrutt (Snog)]
Snogrutt has possession of the Twi'lek! Gad will bring much fame for Snogrutt. As he takes custody, he grins, "thuthae oomapijyf... agyrh eazoghoohep.." he snuffles, grasping the twi'lek by the collar and leading him off towards the Spaceport proper, glancing over his shoulder as Risani pancakes her ship. He winces, fairly sure it's not supposed to be like that.. though he does recall the recent incident in the Audience hall.. perhaps she is just always this way? Snogrutt rols his eyes, considering different nicknames. [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Jundani Meru (Jundani)]
Despite the fact that between them, Hahtavi and Khalim were two very capable bounty hunters, Jundani moved to bracket the ship's ramp, as she waited for the detainee to be brought out, a hand resting on the handle of her riot baton. She was mild as ever, one handing the datapad as she got the word from Hahtavi. All was well. And Hahtavi never allowed a mark to get or be taken away from him.
'Thank you for your patience. Updating complete. All ships will be ready for departure in the order in which your flight plans were input into the system. Thank you for visiting Dawnstar Starport.'
[ Khalim (Kh)]
Gad's protestations are simply unheard by Khalim, who follows a bit of a distance behind Hahtavi as the Twi'lek is marched into eventual Gamorrean custody. His role here is concluded, though any fellow comrades near Hahtavi and Gad receive shallow nods as Khalim walks past. He does not stop. <"Khalim signing off, the package is secure and I'm hungry.">
As he makes his way towards the public hangar's massive public entrance, his gaze shifts to the unexpected sight of an early-model YT sitting upon its belly. That hadn't been there before, had it? There's a wince, and a shake of the head, but still no detour as the Mirialan finds himself again beneath the ever-dour shade of Nar Shaddaan thunderclouds.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
Everything is being recorded on his helmet's cams. The handoff as proof of delivery into one or more of Borgol's people. Hahtavi keeps a close eye on Snogrutt as he moves off to be sure he's not going to loose Gad while still in the starport at least.
A faint nod to Jundani whom he's standing next to now. <"Khalim was helpful keeping people on board relaxed. Appreciated. Teamwork made it go very smoothly. Vor'e, Jundani. You were, as always, impressive at your arts.">
The Kora shows no sign of leaving just yet. He's watching the starport and gives Mollie a polite nod, <"Captain.">
[ Jundani Meru (Jundani)]
Jundani Meru looked up to the much taller mandalorian, "I do have my uses."
[ Risani (Ris)]
The ramp haphazardly clunks to the ground and Risani stomps on out of the Tailspin. Lying haphazardly on its side like a beached whale, the felinoid has to scrabble carefully along the angled floor with one hand planted against the bulkhead to steady herself. On level ground, she can't help but instinctually turn and examine her handiwork with a scowl and her hands planted on the apex of her hips. Gold-flecked eyes drink in the carnage. Her ears listen to the crackling of broken electronics and the gushing of fluid. Her nose samples a mixture of grease, exposed conduit, and a vaguely familiar Zeltron-- wait a second.
Pivoting on the ball of her foot, Risani peers in to the darkness of the public hanger. "ZAVR!!!!!" Risani calls out, her hands about her mouth like a megaphone.
[ Fshmaw (Fsh)]
Fshmaw, job done, drops the surplus collar and melts into the crowd without much further fuss.
