Log:Hutt Cartel: Mon Calamari Mule

Mon Calamari Mule

OOC Date: February 25, 2019
Location: Heurkea Floating City, Mon Calamari
Participants: Sajin, Zian, Myra Bale, Usha as GM

As is the case with most public transportation, the shuttle Kappa Esk 11 is a sturdy work horse, making thousands of trips across the galaxy daily, but its accommodations are cramped for maximum capacity and worn from all the alien bodies it's transferred. Passengers are divided into compartments that can fit about 7 or 8 humans uncomfortably. Against the outer walls of each compartment is stiff cushioned seating, covered in dirty, art deco upholstery. In the middle is a shared table, where someone has carved a small 'GET KRIFFED' into the surface.

At Corscuant, a group of passengers boarded Kappa Esk 11, separate from one another (as instructed), dressed in plain clothes (as instructed), and just so happened to be assigned to the same compartment. These strangers definitely do not know each other prior to this moment and are definitely not headed to Heurkea Floating city for the same reasons.

The last passenger to arrive is Usha, who steps into the room a few minutes after the shuttle has jumped to hyperspace. Silently, she slides the compartment door closed behind her and takes a seat, largely ignoring the others for a few long minutes before she instructs, "Make sure the door is locked and please keep an ear open should someone come by." And once someone has done so, she begins to disassemble parts of her clothing. From the inside of her cloak flows small baggies of purple powdery spice. Even more are removed from the thick platformed heel of her boots. Pockets, sleeves, and finally her briefcase all pour out these little baggies, which are gathered in a pile at the center of the table.

"Hello darlings," the magenta alien speaks in a quiet volume, "I hope you came hungry."

Sajin is here, scratching the back of his head as Usha enters and starts to take out all the pink Spice baggies she can possibly carry. He reaches into one of the pockets of his coveralls and takes out a container of hot sauce. "I forgot to each lunch, so yeah..." Not that it would be particularly enticing, or enjoyable at that.

The silent, scarred alien sitting nearby in the small compartment, otherwise known as Zian, is wearing a pair of dark goggles today. With his red eyes covered, it's fairly easy to mistake the alian for an Umbaran, which is perhaps the whole point. He's sitting there quietly, his mouth drawn in a thin line that tightens around the injured side of his lips as he gazes around at the other occupants. Dressed in a red shirt and black slacks, he glances over to Usha once she joins them in the compartment, gazing at her quietly from behind those dark goggles. Then the mechandise starts to come out, and he shifts his attention to those bags, but otherwise seems to be awaiting further instruction before commenting.

"Usha, darling," a lilting Coruscanti accent coos to the magenta woman as a pale, platinum-haired twig emerges from the compartment, dressed in a baggy, soft pink pantsuit that hangs from her bony frame in a manner reminiscent of a colorful tarp. "It's ever so delightful to see you again, really it is, it's been far too long, where have you been keeping yourself? You look delightful, by the way, I could just eat you up," she continues without giving the other a chance to respond. "I assume this is the frightfully ordinary pile of ehm, just terribly unremarkable pastry ingredients, and all the such-like accoutrements," Myra observes, peeking down at the baggies with wide, emeraldine eyes. With a mousy glance towards the others, she observes with a titter and wink, "At least I hope for your sake that's all it is, really I do, but I must ask where you got those heels later, please be a dear and remind me, would you? Wonderful."

Pulling out her flask as well as a small communal container of oil, Usha removes her sunglasses and begins to explain. "We will be personally delivering all this lovely - and very difficult to come by - 'baking accoutrements' to a group that calls themselves the Q Collective." Her magenta fingers pickup a baggie, rolling it around in oil before swallowing it whole in one, slightly painful gulp. A swig is taken from the flask to help it down a bit, and she passes the alcohol over to Zian should he want some. "Why thank your Myra," Usha gives a cat-like smile to the other Cartel member in the bunch, "I would ask, however that you not eat me up, but these." She gestures to the pile expectantly, to indicate that they too should get to swallowing the spice. "I want to see you all down at least 10. More would be better."

"Once the delivery is in their possession, they will give us the money and I will pay you then and there. Though admittedly ... I don't have a map or clear instructions on where to meet our contact." It could be the bag of spice making its way down her esophagus, but the Zeltron seems quite displeased with the lack of information she was given. "I only have this." A battered piece of scrap is pulled out and handed to Myra to read out loud. All the while, she continues ingesting her own share of the precious cargo.

Sajin shrugs and moves over towards the baggies. He glances to Myra then back to Usha. A glance is spared to the Chiss to. He gives the man a nod in greeting. He starts to shake out some hot sauce onto the baggies. "You're looking good today Usha... yeah... Nice... ah... shirt?" THe dumb but obviously pretty Hapan was trying he supposed. He downs a few baggies, swallowing them whole.

Zian turns, accepting the alcohol with a nod and a grunt as the man turns it up and takes a swig. It'll help numb the throat a bit, or at least make it more bearable mentally. Turning, he passes it over towards Myra, reaching up to wipe the excess from his lips before turning back towards the baggies. Nodding back to Sajin in return, but offering no real greeting, the 'Umbaran's' nose wrinkles slightly at the task set before him. He complies regardless, reaching out to pick up one of the baggies. Rolling it around in that oil, he ensures it gets nice and slick, then reaches up to pinch his nose as he slides it down his throat with some fairly uncomfortable gulping and gagging noises. It's for the credits, right?

"Of course, of course," Myra agrees with a simper, taking the note over from Usha in betwixt two delicate fingers, pulling the note apart and giving her chest a polite thump, uttering a hesitant cough. "Ah yes. Wonderful message, really, it's delightfully clear precisely what we have to do, if I do say so myself, and I rather appreciate the brevity of the note, very droll," the Coruscanti accent dripping heavily from her voice as she prepares to read. "Ah hem hem hem. Now then. Tunnel. Toy. Truce. And tango. That's all it says, but my dears, I ask what more could possibly be required?" With a broad, beaming smile, the note is passed back to Usha and she sets to work gulping down those baggies, mouth opening shockingly wide to stuff each in.

As the group sits down to have their spice meal, Usha removes her sunglasses to wink at Sajin. "I know I do darling, thank you for noticing. Would you be willing to share that sauce?" He isn't particularly bright, but hot sauce sounded like a good idea. "My guess is that those are codewords. Hints that will lead us to where they want to meet us. But I haven't the foggiest idea of what they each mean. I guess we'll just have to see as we go."

"When we land we'll have to go through some security before entering the city. So here are your documents." From another pocket in her bag, she pulls out four data chits containing ID pictures of each individual, accompanied by a fake name and fake profession. Usha distributes them to the group saying, "Download those to your data pads and show that to the security officers. Once we all pass, I will meet you at the Posh Neerco statue in the Memorial Park. Any questions?" As they familiarize themselves with their new false identities, she surely and slowly works toward eating the rest of her spice, an look of discomfort plastered on her face when she burps suddenly, "Apologies I haven't done this in a while."

The ship lurches forward a bit when it exits hyperspace, making Usha grasp as her stomach in an attempt to still its contents. Meanwhile a pleasant voice announces. "8 minutes until landing."

Sajin smiles to Usha and nods, handing her the hot suace. "It helps, you know? The plastic is stale." He keeps swallowing the rest until his portion is complete. It was his turn to burp, but he didn't excuse himself, just patted his belly and moved over to grab a strap as the ship leaped back into real space. "Eight minutes? Yeesh." He gives a bit of a yawn, dreamy hazel eyes glancing around as he waits for a landing.

Zian seems entirely uncomfortable with this exercise, however it seems necessary at the moment. Thus, he continues to dip the bags, and continues to down them one after the other after ensuring they're nice and oiled up. His nose wrinkles after each one, but eventually he manages to get ten, along with a heavy burp that escapes him. Hand shoots up to rub at his lips, then the Umbaran nods, listening quietly to the instructions and soaking the information in. He's a quiet person, it seems. Accepting his fake ID, he removes a datapad and downloads it as instructed, then begins to read over the contents as they wait for landing.

"Honestly, this is not my normal activity and I'd hoped to have moved past such practices this late in my career, but as my mother would say, sometimes you have to eat the spiny-collared toad, as it were, and I do believe that to be a true saying, or at least I've always found it to be the case, as terribly dreadful as it might seem in the quick of the silver, if you do catch my drift," Myra announces to the others nonchalantly as she shoves the last of her baggettes down her gullet, the little woman's large mouth and even larger (somehow) smile belying the amount of illicit cargo onboard. "I suppose the ever-so-short pitstop on Coruscant was a reminder of that, so, carry on and soldier forth and all that sort of nonsense, eh, darlings?" Dainty hands clap together twice, sharply, a glowing smile spreading from ear to ear.

Upon hearing the announcement, Usha makes sure the rest of the spice is consumed before standing up once more and slipping her sun glasses over her face. "Once we leave this compartment, I do not know you. You do not know me. We do not know each other. See you at the park." The Zeltron gives the rest a dimply smile, and wiggles her magenta fingers in a wave before exiting the compartment and getting ready to disembark.

The Heurkea landing cove is a dark and mysterious entrance to a vibrant world of aquatic life and aquatic aliens. As the ship descends onto the ocean rock, the dots forming lines soon turn into a variety of creatures from all over the galaxy waiting to be screens before entrance. With some fairly poor maneuvering, the ship lands rather roughly. Bouncing once or twice before finally settling on the ground.

Shuttle passengers are herded into different, random lanes that eventually lead to a Mon Calamari Security Officer who reviews individual documents one by one. Each bug-eyed native, asks everyone the same question:

"State your name, profession, and purpose for your visit."

To which Usha replies when its her turn:

"Nena Nennerberg, I'm a fashion consultant headed to the Coral Reef Hotel to meet with a client."

Sajin was not good at lieing. Not one bit. He kind of follows the others haphazardly, "Ah..." He blinks. "I might... I... what was it?" He puts a finger to his lips, "Oh yeah. That's right. My name is Lyster Fiender. I'm a Janitor and I'm here clean the barnicals off the bottom of some old Mon Calmari's feet. Rough job, rough job." He tsks and shakes his head.

Zian nods in response to Usha, standing once they've landed and giving one more large burp, at which point he feels a bit of a shift in his stomach. The man's eyes dilate a bit, and his heart begins to race, as he splits off from the others into another random line to eventually be asked his name and purpose. "Zik Two." he responds a little too quickly to the customs officer. "I am here to see a man about a ship." It's not the best explanation, in fact it's extremely generic, and the way he reaches up to straighten his hair certainly isn't doing him any favors.

"Of course, of course, no problem at /all/, darling," Myra will coo once more to Usha as the other woman gives the last bit of instructions and then she's hustling off of the shuttle to meet the immigrations officer, homing right in on the nearest official like a heat-seeking missile. The little woman's tottering steps take her up to him at high speed, and she bumps straight into the uniformed personnel. Blinking furiously, she stumbles back, spraying apologies. "Oh, goodness me, I do beg your pardon good sir, really I do," chattered up at the Mon Cal fellow, slight fingers reaching up readjust her pale pink pantsuit. "A thousand apologies, no, a million."

A few more blinks and Myra launches into her answer to the questions. "Well, you see, as it says here on my identification documents, my name is Kira Tao'ni, and if you must know, my mother's cousin on her father's side was a close family friend and she sent me a message last week letting me know that her pet Anura had to go in for emergency surgery and so she's left her other three at home, and needs someone to look after them. I said, of course I would come, I have nothing else to do with my life, it's not like I've got plans of my own, you know how these things are, I mean, honestly, as if I can drop everything, and fly all the way here, on public transport, no less, which is dreadful for your health, did you know, these giant shuttles are about the next thing to a traveling disease capsule? It's absolutely horrendous. Really it is. But here I am, nonetheless, officer. Can you believe that? I can scarce believe it myself. And another thing-"

"Please, just go."

"Well alright then, if you insist."

The thing about Mon Calamaris is that their eyes are position in a way where you're not sure where exactly they are looking. So when each of their Security Officers glance at their IDs and then glance back at the passengers themselves, its hard to tell if they're being highly scrutinizing or not looking at all.

Still, no one in the history of Heurkea City has ever been let in so fast as Myra Bale. The glass partition slides open with a woosh, granting the woman entrance to the oceanic city.

Maybe they were bad liars. Maybe names like Zik Two, Lyster Fiender, and Nena Nennerberg were far too ridiculous. Regardless, Zian, Sajin, and Usha's officers each say: "I need you to step to the side please." Each of them gesturing to a raised platform where other officers wait with gloves hands for a routine pat down. Calmly, Usha smiles and says, "Of course," before stepping onto the platform. For peaceful folk, these officers are rather rough. Patting her down this way and that. Moving her limbs here and there. Turning her about. And suddenly she feels a wave of adrenaline rush through her. Her heart begins to race. She takes a deep inhale and exhale to keep it together. And then it's over!

"All clear here."

The glass partition opens once more to let the Zeltron through.

Sajin blinks and shrugs, stepping to the side. He spreads it as the seach starts. His eyes go a bit wide as he feels the baggie pop inside, his heart starting to beat faster. He's pumped up now, perhaps a little bit gittery. "Hey... watch is fish man... that's my man bits." Says Sajin. They don't find anything with the pat down. The Hapan gives another loud burp to let some of that gas from the now disolving spice out though.

Zian nods, stepping over to be pat down by these odd fish-like aliens. He stands still throughout, and following a pat on his stomach, he gives a slight groan as more of the spice hits his system. Still, he doesn't speak any further, simply reaching up to cover his mouth with his fist until the pat down is over. Once it is, he nods at the affirmative for him to go forward, and turns to hurry himself through the glass partition, and into the next area of the starport. It's possible this was a bad ide, but he'll worry about that later. Now he just needs to focus on getting to the correct location with the others, assuming that guard doesn't shoot him!

Myra, being a gifted liar or maybe just annoying, has spent this whole time toddling along on dainty feet around the welcome area, oo-ing and ah-ing at all the exotic sights, while singing a little song to herself in a tone-deaf, high-pitched monotone. "Tun-nul, tun-nul, where -is- the tun-nul, tun-nul, tun-ul, where-ever could it beee..." Big green eyes blink owlishly as she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes, teeth nibbling at her upper lip.

For some reason, Memorial Park is packed today. Both tourists and natives alike wander about the place, admiring the man-made architectural design of the memorials contrasting with the vivid underwater landscape that nature crafter with her own hands. A little Twi'lek girl presses her face against glass to get the attention of a fish on the other side. Until that very same fish swells 5x its size, grows fangs, and snarls at the baby alien, making her cry.

The crowd makes it quite difficult to move around easily in the park, but interestingly enough provides enough distraction for some good cover. Usha stands near a statue of an Mon Cal hag, hunched forward in her old age, watching over the crowd with kind but crossed eyes. This is Posh Neerco. She did something important at some point or other. Still, the Zeltron stands there with a lit cigarette waiting to spot the others when someone in the crowd shoves her, causing another bag to burst inside. She burp and groans in response.

While Sajin is avoiding people as he makes it into the park, he's more nervious now as another baggie rips. He's sweating, eyes wide. He can hear teh whispers. They know, they know he's HIGH. He just wants to go home, he really just wants to go home now. He burps loudly then hiccups, qucikly trying to make his way through the park and where he's supposed to be.

Something catches his eye though, a trapt door. The sweaty Hapan stumbles his way over towards it and studies it with large pupiled eyes. "Qqqqqquuuuueeee." He drools.

Zian is a bit hassled in the crowds, causing another mishap in his stomach as the Chiss burps again. His stomach grumbles, the spice having a rather adverse effect on his system, as he wanders through the crowds of the park. He at least manages to reach the statue near Usha, a somewhat familiar face amongst the churning chaos, where he places a hand on the base of the statue to steady himself and takes some long, deep breaths. It's hard to calm yourself when everyone is thinking about murdering you, and that laughing just won't stop in the background.

Is the pop palpable? Myra's not sure, but there does seem to be a sudden onset of acid reflux. "It's probably nothing, really it isn't," she reassures herself, smoothing her hands down over the front of her jacket over and over again, suddenly feeling the edge of paranoia biting into her serene, chattery coolness. "Goodness me, is this what a hot flash feels like? Dreadful. Ever so dreadful." Still, there's a job to do, and her large, staring eyes scan the area, searching for the legendary tunnel and spotting something that Sajin has also spotted; "Ah, that must be our cue. Delightful," she titters and totters that way, immediately dropping to her knees atop a trap door, or manhole, or whatever the thing is. "GRACIOUS, oh PISH and TOSH!" she shrieks, flapping her small hands in the air in a panic, beating open palms against it. "MY EARRING, oh my giddy aunt! That was a gift from my niece! Someone help me get this open!"

Frowning at the utter discomfort, Usha simply takes another, longer drag of the t'bac because she figures it'll make her feel better. Finally hearing the pink lady's cries over the crowd, she spots the struggling Zian and attempts to pull on his arm to herd him toward where Sajin and Myra are at. "You heard the lady, go /help/ her," she demands, irritated from feeling rather on the edge at the moment. Never mind that she has two hands and is perfectly capable to trying to open a manhole. Let the lads do the heavy lifting!

Zian's eyes go wide as he's grabbed by Usha, and reaches over to slap her hand away, following that up with a slight hiss as he rubs at his arm. Were he not wearing goggles, she'd note the glare being directed at her, but then he attempts to straighten up as he takes a few wobbly steps over towards the grate and leans over to begin lifting it with Sajin. Or rather, he would, on the third attempt. After at first leaning down and judging himself going too quickly, and the second losing his balance due to a rush to his head and stumbling back.

"Ah yes, excellent, thank you my dears, give it the old nip-tuck, as it were," Myra enthuses from the sidelines, having retreated back to observe and supervise, her small, delicate hands pressed against her torso behind her kidneys, just watching the two men do all the heavy lifting. "Just delightfully ripping stuff, smashing show, really it is."

"Oh! How wonderful, we can go look for her earring now!" Usha calls out in overly dramatic relief as the opening reveals a set of rungs that descend into the darkness below. Eager to get going, the Zeltron hops right in.

What does the sewage system of an underwater city even look like? Good question! It actually looks a whole lot like a regular city's sewage system - a tangled mess of dark corridors crashing into and splitting from one another with no obvious rhyme or reason unless you were familiar with the streets above. It smells awful, as one would expect, only the pungent smell is amplified by the deep stench of stale, warm sea water mixed with trash, excrement and you can only imagine what else. It spurts out of pipes in the walls at random times and thickens air not only giving it a humid, wet texture but a distinct flavor as well.

When Usha climbs rungs down into the level below, she coughs from the fumes so hard that POP there goes another bag. Her grip upon the rungs grows shaky. "Looks like a tunnel to me alright." A rather deep river of sewer water runs through the middle of the corridor with dry sidewalks to stroll along on each side. The Zeltron's scarf is pulled over her nose and mouth to help with breathing as she begins to follow the poop river. Large red Qs are graffiti'd onto the walls, further indicating that they're in the right place. But as they venture deeper into the sewage system. "Anyone see a toy or a truce or a tango - whatever the kriff that all means...."

Sajin winces, holding his stomach once he gets down into the sewar. "Oh man... my stomach hurts. Ushes... Ushes. Are we there yet? I gota get this drek out of me." He looks around with those Hazel eyes of here, "It's kinda dark but... I think theres a doll with a red Q on the other side of the drek river..." He gulps... "I can't swim..." He whines and he was to HIGH that he dosn't want to even push himself off the wall he's crouched against.

Zian groans as he lowers himself down the ladder, his arms a bit shaky as he very, very carefully sits his feet down on the sidewalk of the sewer. "Kriff..." the man mutters under his breath, stepping away from the ladder in case anyone wants to fall on him and steps away to point across the river of whit at the doll. "Yea, there is..." he says softly, turning to glance around him as he shakily reaches up to pull his goggles up onto his forehead. Glowing red eyes are what's revealed, as the Chiss gazes around the sewers, and points shakily at a valve. Approaching it, he goes to turn the thing, in hopes it assists.

"Great Palpatine's ghost, darling, this has me all atwitter," Myra chirps to Usha as she drops down into the sewer with nary a wrinkle of her nose despite the foul stench rolling off the place. "Ah yes, just like dear old mum used to make," is her jittery comment on the smell of shit creek over there, her pink flats carrying her with quick short steps towards a piece of driftwood, or maybe it's coral, but it's bleached and organic and when she latches onto it and plops it down in the brown flow, it floats. "And there you have it, my dears, a- whatever this thing is, yes indeed. It's hard to keep things straight in my head-space just at the moment, but I'll be right as rain in a jiffy, really I will, don't fret your pretty little heads over me. Get on, then, right we go, toodle-bop, heh heh... heh," the little woman nervously encourages the others, flopping into the goop and already preparing to kick off the side once the others latch on.

It takes a lot to get Usha to ruin her clothes. They're designed vintage! This was supposed to be an undercover delivery of goods! Still between the stench and the anxiety, she simply wants to get this job over with. "You will /never/ see me do this again," she says with irritation to the others before she toddle-bops into the poop sea water with Myra, sharing the floaty piece of wood to try and make it to the other side. Something about that splash was odd. And there goes another POP, which makes Usha shudder and belch, adding further to the stench of the environment.

There's a shift and a rumbling when Zian turns the valve. A loud echo in the distance makes it sound like something shuts and another thing opens. Before they know it, some pipes begin to shake, and then the sound of rushes water grows louder and louder until a mess of water bursts from the opening of a pipe in the wall. And with it are three very distinct splashes in the water. Whatever fell in, a takes a whole half a second for them to swim up to the ladies in the water, snapping at their heels and causing overall confusion and chaos.

Usha screams helplessly clinging to the wood, "ZIAN, WHAT THE KRIFF DID YOU DO?"

"THE FISH ARE ATTACKING!" He says aloud, "THE POOP FISH ARE ATTACKING." He pulls his pistol, the only 'legal' one he's got and brought along on this journy. He's tripping out rael hard, not moving from his spot seated against the wall and very clearly out of the water. "I'm guna die, I'm so guna die. Ushes... Ushes, tell Oriana I love her. Tell her I'm sorrrryyyyy!"

"I do not know!" Zian declares, genuine confusion on hsi face as that valve seems to do some weird stuff, but not quite what he wanted it to do! "I thought it was a bridge!?" Those splashes are noted, and upon turning to find the ladies in the water being harassed by evil fish, he draws his pistol from its holster and opens fire on them, firing three times into the water and frying one of them. "Swim faster!" the Chiss declares.

What are the odds that someone will meet their end in a river of poo eaten by poo piranhas? Apparently, for Myra these odds were 100. "In hindsight I suppose life really is one big circle," the little woman concludes with a manic laugh as whatever those creatures are assault her and she paddles for the opposite bank. "How delightful! Ha ha! Did I ever even leave the refuse heap or was I always /here/ all along? Have I been dead all this time?" She's not cracking, she's cracked. "Of course I am. We all were. We were never even here. And now we're here again." Drugs are a hell of a drug!

"So kill it, you MORON! If I die I sure as hell am not going to pay you!" Usha yells as the panic of spice overdose consumes Sajin. At least the engineer is doing something about it though, because Zian manages to take down one of the fish, which stops its violence flapping and merely sinks to the shitty bottom of the sewage river. She takes the opportunity to kick like a mad woman with Myra to try and get to the other side. The strenuous physical activity makes another bag POP in her body, which is really just the last straw before tears come. "I'm too beautiful to die here like this!"

And suddenly help does come. Blaster shots from nowhere take down the other two fish with practiced accuracy. In all the commotion, the quick footsteps of this Quarren cavalry were completely missed. Only, are they really heroes? "PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS," the bark out the command.

One has a blaster pointed at Sajin's head. Another at Zian's. One more are pointed in the direction of Usha and Myra in the water. In the dim light of the sewage tunnel, the hideous appearance of these underground Quarren become apparent. Covered in boils, a sort of greenish mold splashed across their faces, scars and sores all over. "Oh kriff, oh kriff don't shoot," Usha begs. "We're just looking for the Q collective. Please, don't shoot! Oh goodness, what's that word? What's the word I'm looking for....?"

Sajin drools as the others come and he just sits there slumped and drooling. "But Ussssheeess... Why you do mean. I wish I could be your knight and shining armor and save your beutiful butt..." And then he starts laughing to himself at that though, the blaster pointed at him not bothering him. It's still in his hand but not pointing towards anything. "You guys got a soft couch I can crash on. Fuuuuugggggg." He laughs again, the burps, a pink blubble escaping is mouth.

Zian breathes heavily as he fires on those fish, at least hitting the one. But then the other two miraculously explode! The Chiss makes a faint 'Yessss' noise, pumping his arm, as though he somehow ricoched a shot between the three fish with the same blaster bolt. That's about when he notices the weapons pointed at his head, the man dropping his pistol on the ground and raises his hands in an instance as he screams out "TRUCE!", jumping slightly in the process. What follows is a much softer, much more collected, but still unsteady, 'Truce.'

"PUT DOWN /YOUR/ WEAPONS!" Myra shrieks back at the Quarren gangsters, finally getting close enough to the other side that she flings herself towards the edge with an inhuman squawk of panic and alarm, face-planting in the unctuous waters before scrabbling out onto the dry duracrete, a vaguely pink-centered brown blob. "DO YOU HAVE /ANY/ IDEA WHAT WE'VE BEEN THROUGH? NO! YOU HAVE /NO/ CONCEPT! I'm not a beautiful woman but this is... this was /too much/ even for me, do you hear me? DO YOU?" Tears stream from her eyes, little watery knives cutting rivulets through the poopy shell. "If you /ever/ want to receive another shipment from us again then you had jolly well better make the next hand-off take place in the back of a hotel spa or I swear on my mother's grave I'll- I'll- ....GAH!"

There's a long, silent pause after Myra flips out. And then, in a calm voice, from the Quarren who still has a blaster pointed at Usha in the water, "Tango, I think these are the guys from Nar..." This is said to a Quarren staring down is barrel at Zian.

"You serious?" Tango furrows a brow and asks, turning to look at Sajin pathetically slumped on the ground. "These are who the Hutts sent?" He blinks his squid eyes in disbelief. "They're all tweaked out of their minds..."

Scracthing their temples in confusion and disbelief, they do indeed put away their weapons in the name of a truce. "Well ... alright, fish the pink one out of the water. We should probably get these guys some medical attention..." And in an effort to best preserve their cargo, the Q Collective Quarren gather up the broken pieces that are the Hutt Mules, stabilizing them enough in their underground community so that eventually they will be barely okay enough to make it home. Thus concludes the first but certainly not the least poopiest event of the evening.