Log:Resistance: A Quiet Drink

SFC and Resistance Army attempt to meet a contact to obtain starfighter parts.

OOC Date: April 6, 2018
Location: Apatros
Participants: Ektor, Dosk, Devii, Sar Yavok, David Ironside, Maeve Zavir, The Resistance

It's often been said of the planet Apatros that if not for all the rocks, it would be nothing but dirt. It is a Company world, owned entirely by a vast corporation that claims neutrality in galactic politics.

A windstorm has already been scouring the desolate surface for two days when Dosk's YT-2400 lands in the optimistically named port of Sweetwater, a dingy crossroads for the ore haulers, smugglers, Company men, and prospectors who frequent the center of this settlement: the half-empty Sweetwater Cantina. The Resistance contact is a sympathetic Neimoidian smuggler called Naq Muura, who has promised a load of parts for several of the mismatched and outdated starfighters of the Resistance fleet, in return for some of the less useful fruits of recently stolen Sienar freighters. He's been reliable in the past, but today Naq still hasn't walked through the Cantina doors.

Dosk is sitting at a table at the far side of the bar, slumping a bit in the faded and well worned cushioned seating with a full glass before him and a 2/3 full bottle of whiskey set in the middle of the table. He looks at his chronometer with an arm as another from the same side fiddles with the glass. "This place doesn't seem like there would be too much distraction to make someone this late." He offers to the others at the table. Looking around casually

"I got a bad feeling about this..." Devii sas from her seat across from Dosk. She's smoking some sort of electronic type cigarette and is wearing her corellian breeches, blouse, and jacked instead of her normal Res uniform. Her orange eyes keep glancing over towards the door wondering just where in the hell their contact was.

David Ironside is sitting with the others at the table, his drink not containing any alcohol because they're on a mission and the young pilot is nothing if not a consummate professional. His eyes dart to the doorway briefly every time it opens, be it to let someone in or a group of drunks out. "You sure we're supposed to be here today, then?" he asks. "Might be that the contact's sitting pretty at home not expecting us til tomorrow." He shrugs, glancing around the bar while sipping his drink slowly.

Ektor sits in an uneven slouch, one arm hanging over the back of his chair at their secluded corner table, steadily working through his drink as they wait. It�s alcoholic, because he's not like David. He drawls to Lt. Ironside, "Nah, this is the day and this is the place. Naq was pretty clear. I mean, mostly clear. He don't speak Basic all that good sometimes, yeah?"

Maybe it's the high winds outside, or the general dread of not going according to schedule, but everything feels amiss, while nothing specific catches the eye.

"I heard of the guy before, Kind of weird. No reason to distrust I think." Dosk says as he spins his drink in his hand. "Still, being on time is usually a focal point for a good rep in the business, so we should stay on guard." the Codru'Ji adds as he raises his visor and takes a sip before lowering it quickly.

Devii nods to Dosk keeping her draw hand close to her side arm hung low on her right hip. She stays vigilant for the time being, keeping an eye out while trying to blend in and not look like she's overly worried about the situation. THey didn't need to draw any unwanted attention.

"Y'all must not've been blessed with a brain cell between you," Sar says, as he comes to a stop next to where the rest of the group is sitting. He's dressed down, forgoing armor and chosing a nice leather waistcoat instead. "Guy behind the bar's been watching y'all and tappin' stuff into that datapad of his this whole time. The Colonel moves to have a seat, hand resting on the grip of his S-5.

David's eyes remain on the door, his glass half-full at this time. The door slides open once again, letting three Neimoidians in. Dave makes to stand up, but one of the Neimoidians keels over and barfs all over the floor. Pretty soon the trio heads right back out the door. "Guess that's not them.." David mutters to nobody in particular. He turns to Sar, tipping his glass in his direction. "I can't see the bar out of the back of my head." he replies.

Ektor gives a crooked grin to the arriving Sar. "Got space brains, yeah? Gravity sucks out all the smarts." He glances aside to Devii. "Relax, Guns. You look ready to bite somebody's head off, yeah?"

The high winds occasionally rattle the roof and windows, building to a brief howl as the doors are opened, and a quartet of figures walk in. Though swathed heavily in longcoats, cloaks, and masks against the windstorm outside, once the doors shut behind them, outerwear is shed to reveal four heavily armed folk ranging led by a gray near-human woman with a modded blaster carbine, bandolier of grenades, and a shock of purple hair. Two (a Twi'lek missing one lekku, and a Weequay) remain by the door, a tall human with a shaved head approaches another table to speak quietly with a pair of what look like Company men, and the gray skinned woman approaches the bar, ordering a drink and having a quiet word with the barkeep.

Ektor leans closer to admit, "I might have been a bit off with that 'relax' advice, before."

Dosk's helmet pivots left and right as the group enters. A bit menacingly and he reaches down to grasp his blaster and slide it out under the table. "Two guarding the door now, that ain't a good sign." he says quietly as he rolls back his other 3 'shoulders' in an attempt to seem relaxed. One of his arms reaching down to pour Sar a drink.

Devii turns her head to look at Sar and frowns a bit as her orange eyes wander over to the bar tender. Then her attention is captured by those arriving. She shoots a look to Ektor and shakes her head, finger tapping at the grip of her pistol. There's a glance back to Dosk. "We don't know what they want. They could just be the local protection racket making sure the owner pays their dues."

"Or they could be waiting for a group of people to come meet with a specific Neimoidian, and they're going to gun us down. Either on his behalf, or on behalf of someone who ain't too keen on him," Sar says, reaching over to take the offered drink. He takes a short sip from it and sets it back down. He is at work, after all.

His glass finally empty, Dave swallows the last of it down. Handing the glass off to a waitress just happening to pass by and declining a refill, he watches the suspicious group of thugs. He leans towards Ektor, asking "Did this Muura tell you anything about who he runs with?" His hand drops to his holster, unclipping the safety clasp on his new S-5 blaster, but leaving it in there with his hand covering it.

Ektor downs the last of his drink, exhaling afterward. "Got a hunch it was about to go to waste, yeah?" Sniffing once, he answers Dave, "Naq ran on his own, but if he was gonna double cross us- which I doubt- no way he wouldn't be here to watch, yeah? Real flair for the dramatic, that guy. Maybe somebody grabbed him and bent his arm off, or something." With a glance between the others, he wonders quietly, "We gonna bolt, or brawl, cause I'm gettin a real closing noose kinda feeling, yeah?"

Dosk notices the female looking at them as she talks. The blantant actions are getting a bit annoying and his helmeted figure turns to them. "Say it aloud, if you have such a keen interest." he states. Standing up with his blaster arm held behind his body. His other top arm points at the pair while the two lower arms rest on his hips.

Devii was about to grab her helmet and suggest a retreat from this place but as Dosk stands and aims to pick a fight she goes about putting on her helmet instead as she stands... "Aaaaaand there's your answer..." She says sarcastically.

Sar Yavok grunts in agreement with Devii as he sees Dosk stand up and make the first move. The OldMan just leans back in his chair, looking over at the group of baddies that Mr. Fourarms is addressing.

David makes no move to get up, turning to Dosk as he addresses the suspicious group. This'll work out just fine, just like last time Dosk went over to talk to someone to get something. Right? The lieutenant turns a quick glance to Devii, seeing her put the helmet on he raises an eyebrow. "Oh.." Apparently there's about to be a fight, so David slips his gun out of the holster under the table.

"Aaaand there's my answer," Ektor agrees to Devii. A grimace bends his lip as he glances around the cantina. "You're worth five again, yeah Guns?" Leaning an elbow on the tabletop and feeling it rattle on a loose leg, he abruptly smiles and waves at the pair by the door. "Table ain't bolted down," he informs the others, pointedly.

The tall human with the shaved head nods to his purple haired boss. As Dosk rises and speaks, he tosses a weather cloak back over one shoulder to free up his right arm and reveal a holstered heavy blaster. A chuckle comes from the woman at the bar. "The Mirialan and the old man," she greets bluntly, indicating Devii and Sar. "We need words. Everyone else, clear out."

The order is obeyed by the barkeep, with a quickness; he delays only long enough to grab the most expensive bottles on his way to the back room. Other patrons brave the windstorm, with a few exceptions.

"Why do I always get lost?" is voiced in a rather vexed tone of voice as the doctor is shaking off some of the dust that has littered a perfectly good (not even remotely) ratty jacket she liberated from Sar's collection. She barely gets these words out when, suddenly, there's a mass exodus that threatens to trample anyone and everything in the way and she hastily ducks to the side, warily watching the room, as she makes her way around the scattered and strewn chairs and tipped tables to where the rest of the group is seated. "What did I miss?" she wonders as she rights a chair and takes a seat.

As the patrons opt to leave and the entrance of Maeve, Dosk looks to the woman seemingly in charge. "You have your chance to talk. " Two of his hands reach into pouches in his armor. "Though if you try anything stupid, I gas this place and am the only one left to deal the with outcome." He nods back to those at the table with him. "Ill take care of them, not too sure how you will all end up."

Devii glances to Dosk, if he were under he command right now she's rip a new one through him but there are other things to consider at the moment, like what the hell they wanted her and Yar for. She turns her head back, her voice comming out a bit static like through her helm which she just secured. "The hell do you want?" She asks with a bit of venim. Though, something bleeping on her HUD and she notices the Stun net one of the goons in carrying. He's guna be the first one she kills if it comes to that. Maybe she should have brought her new Flame THrower on this mission.

"What about?" Sar asks, turning to look at the woman. "And if we're havin' words, you oughta see about sending some of your own people out, as well. Reciprocation, you see," Sar explains, remainingseated in his chair.

Following the lead of everyone else not allowed to stay, David stays. He gives a short nod to Maeve as she joins the group, but keeps his leg, and by extension his blaster, aimed at the group of people looking to browbeat them. "So.. This could've gone better, right?" he asides to Ektor. "Supply pickup, what could go wrong, and why do we always fall for it?" He grins, turning his attention back to the immediate danger.

Aiming that still-wary look around the room as she tucks her feet beneath the chair she's sitting on, Maeve Zavir glances from Dosk to Devi then blinks at the helmet that Devii has just secured. "Why.." she starts to make it a question only to glance sidelong at Sar and David next. "Ok," is said in a much quieter voice. "Well to be fair, a supply run is always good."

The grey skinned near-human doing the talking grins wide at the choice of the other undercover freedom fighters to remain. "Nobody else wants out? Suit yourselves. Rest of you probably aren't worth much, but guess we'll take it." Dosk's claim of gas earns a sniff. "Listen, tough guy: we keep a lobotomized Twi'lek around, your gas isn't gonna scare us." The quip earns a chuckle from her men. Speaking of the Twi'lek, though.. as Maeve brushes past him from behind, the tall humanoid startles, hissing at the doctor. She downs her drink in one go, and slams the cup down hard on the bar top, the sound of which sends the room into chaos: blasters are pulled, and it begins. Cassius draws in a flash, firing at the standing Dosk, while the leader rips off a shot as she leaps over the bar for cover. The pistolier is fast, hitting Dosk with a shot, but not putting the Codru down.

Ektor answers Dave dryly, "It never goes easy, yeah?" Then, it begins. Grabbing the edge of the table and overturning it for cover, he fires off a quick shot at the Weequay by the door, beforeducking to one knee behind the soon to be abused table.

As the shooting begins, Dosk's blaster is at the ready as a bolt flies at him and hits his upper right shoulder in a glancing blow, the shot hitting his upper shoulder armor and burning through causing him to twich a bit as it burns through his armor and he fires off a shot with his upper left hand. The shot fires true, the smuggler landing a hit on baldy between the eyes and dropping him like a sack of potatoes as his lower left arm moves up to hold the wound he just sustained. "You're next" he yells to the female in charge.

Devii gives a sort of grunt of annoyance as the blaster bolts start flying. So out comes her trusty 718 pistol and it's pointed quickly at the merc with the stun netting, likely out to capture Sar. She wasn't aware of any bounty on her head so she just assumed it was the old famous guy. She squeezes the trigger and snaps off a shot in his direction, hitting the netter right in the nutter. A nice solid shot as she kicks over the table and takes cover."I don't think that's gonna work for me. I'm still concerned about getting this bounty of mine alittle higher," Sar says, sliding the S-5 out of its holster and loosing a bolt into the chest of the woman in charge. It's not a kill-shot, but she's likely regretting her decisions and well on-course to bleed out on a grimy bar-room floor.

David slips the blaster out of his holster as the shooting starts, getting off a single shot at whoever's in the way as Devii kicks the table over. Sliding from the chair, Dave takes cover behind it immediately, using his full weight to snap off one of the legs that's now in an upper corner. Peeking around the corner, he's not even sure who he hit, but it's all good. He's in cover, and not being hit himself.

Maeve's cue to dive for shelter is none other than the sound of shots being fired. The surgeon has one hand on the medpack that's almost-always at her side, the other is used to push off the side of her chair and flip it on it's side as dives for cover behind Sar. Though she is armed, she doesn't reach for the blaster at her side, and as the table is flipped she is practical enough to take advantage of more cover when it's suddenly provided.

The firefight is fast, furious, and largely one-sided. The hissing Twi'lek fires the stun net off at Devii- impacting the table, and leaving a pattern of charred webwork on the overturned tabletop, with only a few weighted ends dangling to crackle harmlessly near the Mirialan's helmeted eye. Down goes the bald pistolier, down goes the Weequay, and the remaining bounty hunters are wounded. Entirely out of sight behind the bar, the purple haired boss hollers, "Out, you idiots! Get out!" Two empty grey hands stick up over the bar. "Enough, enough!"

Dosk holds his pistol at the purple haired woman. "Enough for now. Step forward and explainyourself or you'll end up like him" The Codru'Ji states as an arm gestures to the bald man recent floored. "You have this one chance, or you and your friends get wiped off the grid. Where is the Neimoidian? I wont ask twice" He steps forward his boot stomping on the hand of one of the downed mercenaries.

Devii stays quiet behind her cover, shooting a look towards the one who shot at her with a net. "The hell you trying to net me for you dumb sithspitting nurf herder! I ant worth nothing to anyone other than my dear old pa!" Dosk is there standing steely like a stone wall though she just shakes her head. "Just throw money at them and make 'em go away... I've had enough of this planet."

Sar Yavok grabs Maeve around the waist and throws the both of them onto the ground after his first shot, leaving the chair he was in to catch the full brunt of the boss-lady's retaliation. "FO, quiet up," he asides to Dosk. Laying on the floor, he steadies his blaster again, pointing at the section of bar that the boss lady is hiding behind, "If you got any kind of sense, you'll tell your boys to toss them guns on the floor and slide 'em to us. I ain't averse to bein' amicable. Collect your dead, tell us where our Neimoidian is, and get out of here," Sar says, making sure that he's between any potential blaster fire and his girlfriend.

David rises to a knee, peering over the table with his blaster steadied on the toppled tabletop."You heard the people who know what they're doing with blasters. Toss the guns and hand over the Neimoidian." Hell, David himself blasted someone just then and he's -never- in firefights. His arm pivots as David moves behind the table, swiveling the blaster over the downed crowd. "Nice and easy. Let's go."

There is .. stuff.. on the floor. Spilled, partially dried and tacky pools and smears, smudges and puddles of booze sloshed and strewn about in every direction. Speckled through the pools and smudges and puddles is all manner of debris, from dirt and dust to grubby looking dessicated food that someone probably thought edible at one time. Then there's the dried and partially preserved insects that likely drowned in one or other of the icky looking puddles of goop. The surgeon exhales a mild breath, having had the wits to avoid smacking her head against the floor as she and Sar landed on it and, because she really just can't resist, Maeve aims a faint grin at Sar. "So, for our next date... " in a low voice that doesn't carry much beyond Sar. Especially as everyone is yelling about guns, bounties, credits and a Neimoidian that probably regrets getting out of bed today.

"Stop talking, and I'll tell you, already!" the unseen (apart from her hands) bounty hunter hollers at Dosk. Sar's demand is met with a repeated order to her men, "Whoever's left, do what the old man says." She stays out of sight. "We grabbed Muura when he touched down. He,s worth ten thousand to the Hutts," the Boss Lady explains, adding, "Broke a few fingers, and found out he was here for a meetup. Cassius- go get Muura off the ship." Answered that Cassius is dead, she yells, "JUST GO GET THE KRIFFING SMUGGLER."

The Twi'lek doesn't answer Devii, just staring a bit blankly back at her, before shuffling out intothe sandstorm to fetch a Neimoidian.

Dosk's armored figure moves a bit closer to the woman, his pistol held upright at her head. "Hecomes back with anything seeming shifty. the next shot is on you." The 4 armed man states as an arm reaches for a bottle of whiskey, which is poured over the heavy armor in the spot he was wounded. He twitches the pistol a couple times. "Keep your arms up and come around from behind the bar."

"And here I thought you liked it on the floor," Sar asides to Maeve with a smirk before returninghis attention to the situation at hand. Blaster still leveled, Sar moves to a crouch behind the table, helping to pull Maeve up if she'll let him. "FO, Lieutenant, collect the guns. Corporal, keep your gun trained on that bar."

"I'm gonna need to use my hands to stand up, smart guy," the lead bounty hunter snarks to Dosk."Don't get itchy and shoot, I'm just standing up," she repeats, slowly bringing one hand down. A moment later, she rises slowly to her feet, hands kept well clear of the bandolier of grenades. "It'll take them a few minutes to make it back."

Ektor helps pick up a couple fallen guns, peering curiously as he hefts the oversized net launcher. With a crooked grin, he mutters to Devii, "Hey, congrats Guns: you're wanted. How's it feel?"

"Clean floors," Maeve counters in a low voice of her own that is followed by a mild eye-roll of amusement even as she's carefully moving to a crouch beside Sar behind the table and eyeing the woman who appears to be in charge. "You took a hit to the shoulder," she speaks in a louder tone now."I can stop the bleeding," she offers, "consider it a peace offering."

David hops out of cover, collecting the guns from the defeated bounty hunters before turning hisblaster to the leader with the bandolier. "And let's have those off too, hm?" he indicates the bandolier with a wiggle of the S-5. Having collected the guns and the grenades, he kicks them behind the bar, where he casually rummages through the deserted bottles, opting to take one in hand as he wanders back around to point the gun at the group of miserable failures.

Dosk keeps his blaster leveled "Move slow, remove the bandolier and drop it, as the others havesaid." He states from behind his helmet. Looking back. "You guys have this" he says to David and Sar,"I'll keep an eye on the door for the return." Stating as he turns to head towards the exit to keep an eye on that.

Devii keeps her weapon trained on the bar as ordered. She dosn't speak, has no need to at thismoment. Vigilent in her observations, she waits for the delivery of their charge, some guy she didn't know or have ever heard of.

A tense few minutes pass, before the right Neimoidian arrives with the remaining (and rather cowed) bounty hunters. A further hour of arranging cargo transfers, and- apart from a brief moment of excitement- the supply run is resolved in a rather painless (relatively painless, by Resistance standards) manner. Then, all can escape from this wretched rock.