Log:Resistance: Someone From Megalox

Someone From Megalox

OOC Date: May 24, 2018
Location: Tatooine
Participants: Ektor-Xer Apollyon, David Ironside, Jessika Pava, The Resistance

For all the events of galactic significance that have occurred on Tatooine, the recent upheaval among Hutt clans has left this sandy dun ball once again firmly mired in the unimportance of the Outer Rim. This time, when the various members of the Resistance land in their civilian ships and civilian attire and head through the dusty streets toward the appointed meeting place, their contact is already present and waiting: Naq Muura, a lanky Neimoidan smuggler and fellow of generally questionable morals is leaning against the bar in a garish red flight suit, conversing animatedly with a female Duro.

Muura had requested a meeting with the Resistance; word was, he had a routine delivery to make, and not so routine information to pass along.

Having arrived earlier than the others, David's already at the bar. Single drink in the hand resting on the bar, he's been scouting the place. The mission detailed a Neimoidian as their contact, and they are quite.. recognizable in a crowd, so Dave's already seen the man. He won't make any attempts at contact though, not until the others arrive. Shifting on his bar stool, David occasionally checks his wrist comm for word from the others.

It's only morning on Tatooine, but already, little rivulets of sweat are teasing down the nape of Jessika's neck. Her shirt feels stuck to her lower back, and the heat is enough to take her breath away. Tatooine is dry, but it's only nice if you aren't moving. They've had quite the hike from the docking bays to the cantina in Mos Eisley, which means all that exertion has left her feeling the temperature more than she would just standing still in the shade.

She wears nothing that marks her as a member of the Resistance. The simple yellow vest and a short -sleeved black shirt bear no kinds of markings. Even her brown trousers are plain, and a pair of muted leather boots look like a pair found on any shelf in any store on any number of planets. She appears unarmed. The only things on the belt slung around her hips are a small pouch and a commlink fastened by a clip. She's prepared for the desert heat, though, because her dark hair is wound up into a ponytail that keeps it off her neck as much as possible.

Stepping into the darkened atmosphere of the cantina is a blessing, even if she can't truly relax. Jessika's gaze sweeps the gathered, but she doesn't stop in the middle of the place as if she's looking for someone. She heads to the bar, instead, and leans forward against it with her arms serving as a brace, just a few feet away from where Dave is.

When something Muura days appears to offend the Duro and she leaves with an indignant gait, the smuggler turns his dull red eyes toward the cantina's doors as a familiar face walks in. Perhaps the smuggler didn't remember Dave from the Atrapos incident, or perhaps he's just not noticed, but when Ektor and Jess arrive, a facial contortion that passes for a Neimoidan smile bends Muura's countenance, briefly. He doesn't stare, turning back to his drink.

Ektor mutters, "It ain't even the heat that's so bad, yeah? It's the sun. I know, I know, they go together, but still.. tryin to cook my skin off," he complains lightly to Jess on the way. They split up on entry, as Ektor catches Muura's eye. Jess moves to one side, joining Dave, while Ektor moves to the other side, placing himself next to Muura on the other side. A crooked grin twists his lip as Ektor bids, "Still alive, yeah?" In labored Basic, the Neimoidan returns, "Are you? I can never tell. You bring friends? Maybe⦠they want to hear my pretty voice, too?"

David calls over the bartender, making smalltalk for a while. He gives Jessika a small up-nod of recognition, then a gesture towards one of the booths. For privacy, you know? The pilot stands up, quickly counting on his fingers before placing an order with the bartender for a few more drinks. Four drinks in hand, David heads to a booth, hopefully followed by Jessika first. Passing by Ektor, David lightly bumps him with his shoulder, turning to wordlessly show Ektor where he's headed, the drinks in his hand serving as a hint to join them.

The sun is what's bad outside, but on the inside it's the company. There's a lot of trigger-happy criminals about, and Jessika doesn't feel comfortable in the slightest bit. The room of a cantina feels nothing like the confined space of a cockpit, and that's where she does most of her fighting from. Unlike David, who says nothing except to the bartender, Jessika stops on the way to Ektor to clap him on the shoulder and to gesture David's way. They don't want to look like they're being too sneaky. They want to look like they belong.

"Not much lives in this heat. Guess we should all be thankful. You two fancy a drink and a few rounds of Sabacc? Got a guy over there willing to lose some money." She gestures towards where David is heading to, and then starts that way herself. Jessika slips into the booth. While she hates the idea of it, because being on the inside ring means if something goes down she's got no real escape vector with one or two people in the way, being on the inside of the booth is also one of the more protected spots, and a great position should the table need to be flipped for whatever reason.

Settling in, Jessika pries a deck of cards from the lower pocket on the vest, and sets them on the table before her.

"Course I got friends. You think I'm some kinda irreverent prick what pisses everyone off?" Ektor grins back to the smuggler, noting Dave's bump and direction, but turning a smiling eye to Jess at the clap and invitation, "Lady, you are my new favorite human." A glance to Muura. "Arright, let's have words, Naq," he bids, shoving off the bar and dropping his weight into a seat.

The Neimoidan glide-steps along after. "No names," he requests with oily charm. "Except for me.. as I am the famous Naq Muura, and everyone already knows of me.." one red eye winks while awaiting cards.

David slides a drink over to Jessika, then Ektor and Naq. "Deal me in, Jess." he adds. When the drink to Naq gets slid over, David muses, "Glad to see you were able to make it to this one alright. I would've been so peeved if we ended up shooting people here." The young man did come prepared, though. A chromed blaster peeks out from under his jacket, strapped into a holster for the most part. "What do you got for us?"

So much for no names. Hiking her eyebrows high for one moment, Jessika lets out an inaudible, short -lived sigh that gets lost among the card shuffling and deck cutting. The rapid flutter of cards sifting together in a new arrangement precedes another shuffle and cut, then more bridging. Finally, Jessika lazily deals out the cards to the other three people gathered around. The deck is set near her after the two cards are passed, and then she visibly looks to the left to see what number Dave is going to call out as far as his beginning total. This is more about appearances than playing Sabacc. They're just here for the chat.

Ektor rubs at his eyes, wincing and slamming back his first drink. Cards are picked up and glanced at.

Muura peers at Dave, "I just say- Why you not listening? Why he not listening?" the Neimoidan turns to ask Jess. An exasperated gesture follows. "No matter.. Which of you is captain of ship? I have the old model Koensayr power couplings, and the promised Incom sensor packages.. Some fuel as well, for Naq Muura is generous and listens to instructions." Pointed stare. "Also because Muura gets paid, " he admits. Moving on! "Also..this seemed suspicious, but two days ago on Kessel, man comes to me, who works for powerful woman.. he suggests that the famous Muura might be able to put him in contact with Resistance. Laughable, yes? Everyone knows there is no Resistance. Ha ha," he states plainly. "It seem suspicious, but I do not decide these things, I sent everything and let you decide."

"Codenames." Dave explains flatly. "Codenames that double as actual names, but not necessarily ours. It'd be suspicious if we talked for an hour and no names were ever mentioned. I'm Joel, nice to meet you. Again." He gives a sideways look to Jessika looking at his cards. "You like what you're seeing, there? Just remember when I win that you dealt it that way." He turns back to Muura. "I'm the captain. Any cargo goes with me, where is it?"

"I'm just here for the cards," Jessika replies, and manages to not visibly shift her expression at the less-than-smooth cover-up that follows. Because mentioning 'codenames' out loud is a good idea, too. They have no sound dampening unit. She doesn't, at least. Speaking of the cards, Jessika glances at her own. "Sixteen." Her hand goes to the pouch on her belt to produce a few credit chits that she sets onto the top of the table next to her. One, worth fifteen, is slid into the proverbial middle of the table. Really, it's about halfway that her arm can reach in front of her. After that, Jessika draws two from the deck, shifts her hand, and then slips one back into the bottom. If nothing else, there are four drinks, and she's owed one. She wishes it were water, but water is a hot commodity here, joke notwithstanding. Still, it's wet, and her tongue is dry, so even a little bit helps.

Ektor notes with a brief grin, tossing a card into the center of the table, "I got a ship. That make me a captain, yeah?" When talk moves on to this nebulous contact, Ektor mutters to the smuggler, "I know you don't like names, but... this suspicious guy and his boss got a name?"

Muura snorts at Ektor. "You fly tiny little antique, that is no ship it is spacegoing bantha fly that should have exploded fifty years ago. Ptew." He doesn't actually spit, just makes the sound. Nodding to Dave, "My ship sits in Bay 19. Tell me where to transfer it." Aside to Ektor, he mumbles, "Stupid names. Forget it, the great Muura's subtlety is ruined. Man was called Nero Pyk. He claims the head of the Nix Corporation wants Resistance protection."

David nonchalantly pulls some credits out of his jacket, tossing them on the table. "Show me or show me up." he grins. "Jess knows already, anyway." To Muura, he adds, "I'm in 94. Can't miss it, we'll make arrangements to make the trade." The pilot takes a long swig of his drink, glancing over the table at Ektor and Muura.

Letting the fake game fall to the wayside for a few moments, Jessika glances up from what she's doing to take stock of the cantina and everyone around them. It's the second time her name is being dropped, and due to some old-time business she once handled with Poe, the name 'Jess' and the organization 'Resistance' have always gone together. This had been a couple of years, but some gangsters have long memories, and there'd been a particular First Order agent involved in some of this old business. Right now, Jessika is looking for anyone looking at them. She's hunting for watchers. People a little too interested by four people gathered in a booth while a couple play Sabacc and most of them talk about business with parts and trading.

Some of the stuff is only so loud, but if anyone where to be listening in with some tech.. Well, that's what Jessika is looking for, as best as she knows how. A search of the room turns up nothing that she can see that feels out of place, except for the comlink that's pulled out and activated by Muura. "Got a hot date or something?"

Muura draws a comlink out of his flightsuit, drawling to Jess, "Only if you're free," begore he instructs languidly into the comlink, "Docking bay 94, get it moving."

Ektor leans elbows on the table, drawing his head nearer to share, "Braxton Nix is a... Rim Baron, yeah? Head rich guy of some company that owns worlds. He don't seem the type to take the high road, yeah?"

David slides his finger over his wristcomm. "Ones, you there?" A moment passes, and some beeps emit from the wristcomm. "Yeah, you're gonna have company in a bit, so keep her locked up until they get there and you get a good look at them, ok?" Some more beeps and whistles emit from David's wrist, then the connection goes silent. David looks up at Muura, raising an eyebrow. "Precautions." he explains. "You trust your crew?"

"Sorry, you don't look like a giant credit chit I can cash in." The cards she has are laid to rest on the table in favor of leaning a little deeper into the cushioning behind her. What little there is, at least. Picking the drink up from the table, Jessika sips at it and is content to watch the conversation pass back and forth between the parties.

Muura affects another smile- he's a uniquely smiley Neimoidan, it looks odd. "I trust no crew.. I use droids. Load lifters too stupid to betray the great Muura." Jess' response draws a laugh.

"Droids. Guess we're more alike than you think, huh?" David admits, tapping his wristcomm for emphasis. "Astromech on the other line, plugged into the whole ship. Anything goes wrong, ship's gonna be gone." David gives Ektor and Jess a look, glancing over his cards. "If you guys got this, I can head over and oversee it. Pretty sure you got it managed here, anyway."

Jessika shrugs when David's gaze passes to her, and looks at Ektor, instead. "It's up to him." She downs the rest of the drink and sets it atop the table with a soft, hollow echo that radiates up and out of the empty cup in an announcement of its status. The hand that sets it down trails from there to retrieve the chit she'd slid farther along the table, and dragging it back allows her to mix the others that are present up in a grasp. They're brought back to her belt, where they're deposited, and then Jess is holding her other hand out for the cards David will leave behind if he goes.

The Duro woman who'd had words with Muura earlier has risen from a table across the room, accompanied by a Weequay, a Klatoonian, and a Nikto. The quartet are starting toward the feaux sabbac game. Ektor mutters, "Hey, Naq?" as the Neimoidan is grinning broadly to Dave, "The great Muura is always glad to treat with like minded beings, I find it-"

Ektor cuts in, "Naq?"

Muura scolds the human, "Don't interrupt. RUDE." Back to Dave, "Muura thinks you could learn much from me //Joel//-"

"Full Sabacc." Dave triumphantly flicks his cards onto the table. "Like I said, you dealt them, I just worked with it." He winks at Jess. Having not gotten any answer from Ektor, he makes no moves to leave. "Hey, Great Muura, my friend's got something to say, I think." Giving a nod of his head to Ektor at Naq's side. "Might not be that rude if he's about to tell you about one of your droids going haywire or something. Having his back turned towards the foursome heading their way, David doesn't comment on them directly.

"That's not even a thing," Jessika remarks while gathering up the cards without looking at them. With David in the way, it's impossible to see the group approaching the table. "And you weren't playing right from the start." All the cards are placed on top of the deck and returned to the vest pocket she'd drawn them from in the first place, which leaves her right hand hovering near the left side of her vest as she works up the flap and tucks the cards into place.

The quartet of aliens are brandishing no weapons, though the Weequay and Nikto wear holstered blasters. Ektor prompts of, "NAQ. What did you say to that Duro, from before?"

Muura squints his red eyes at Ektor when Dave insists. "Eh? Why, what does it- AIIIIEEE!" Recoiling in his seat as the Duro speaks in her native language at the Neimoidan. The typically musical and lilting language has a distinctly harsh edge, at the moment.

"It so is a thing!" David, the definitely experienced card shark retorts. Then there's a group of newcomers, who David greets with a single raised eyebrow while his free hand sinks to his side, unbuttoning the clasp on his holster. He masks the sound by setting his glass down on the table a little bit louder than he normally would. "Friends of yours?" he asides to Naq Muura. The recoiling squeal from the Neimoidian answers the question for him. "Guess not."

"It's not," Jessika assures him. "Full and pure aren't the same words. Besides, I had an Idiot's Array." It's the last thing she says before her eyes are slipping to the new arrivals. The hand tucking the cards away pauses there, fingertips hovering near the flap, as the posse of aliens take position behind the Duro that's chattering angrily at Muura. Jessika is forced to glance between them once or twice to try to gauge the situation, but her eyes remain glued on the three behind the Duro in the end.

The argument between Muura and the Duro unfolds quickly, while the trio of aliens with the Duro size up the three humans sharing the smuggler's table. The Weequay cracks his knuckles. Ektor mutters out the side of his mouth, "Don't suppose either of you speak Duro?" to his fellow pilots.

"Wish I did, sounds like a lovely language." David replies quietly. "Guess I'm staying." His wristcomm beeps, and David whispers into it. "They're good, checks out. Let them load it all up. I'm sure we won't be too long." That last line goes with a pointed look from Naq to his Duro friend.

"Not a grunt of it," Jessika replies under her breath without moving from her position. Despite the tense situation, the dark-haired pilot remains relaxed rather than sitting there with tensed up muscles. "Let's settle this without making a mess here. None of us wants to piss off the Hutts. How much does your friend need to make this go away?"

The argument reaches a point at which the Duro shouts. Ektor itches at his neck when Jess asks that. "Dunno, let me ask.. Hey, Naq: is this a.. financial dispute, or-"

Muura glances aside to Ektor at the question, with a nervous giggle. "Aheh.. no? Maybe? Why, how much do you have-" the line of questioning is derailed abruptly when the Duro draws back and strikes Muura across the smiling face. "Ah, drek-" Ektor curses as the Weequay howls and throws a punch at him.

David slowly pulls his blaster out of the holster, feeling around for the setting of the bolts. Other than drinking from his glass, he makes no move to help Naq at all. It's the bed he made for himself, apparently, and the Resistance trio are as of yet uninvolved. Doesn't hurt to be prepared, though.

"Shavit." The Duro strikes Muura, the Weequay goes for Ektor, and Jessika is trapped inside the booth with nowhere to go. "You really want to mess with someone from Megalox?" The question is asked loudly at the posse, hoping the name drop of one of the roughest prisons for the worst criminals might stop the fight before it gets started.

Muura covers up and recoils from the strikes like someone who very much doesn't enjoy pain, while Ektor stumbles back at the punch, lurching to his feet and clocking the Weequay across his leathery jaw. Shaking out his punching hand and bringing dukes up, the Tionese pilot is glancing between all three aliens as the Klatooinan and Nikto catch and steady the Weequay. A very lopsided 3 on 1 brawl looks about to begin when Jess curses and asks her loaded question. For an instant they freeze, and Jess has that guy feeling they bought it. The Duro hisses at Muura and smacks him one more time, before storming off, followed one at a time by the others.

"....yeah, what she said!" Ektor adds, lamely, a moment later.

"Aw, man. I wanted to shoot a dude.." Dave mutters from his untouchable place inside the booth. "Anyway. We should probably settle the bill and check the cargo, now. Before they come back with three times the people, you know?" He gives the others a look, unceremoniously shimmying out of the booth.

"Let's get out of here before someone else decides they want to prove themselves. I hate being in this booth." Jessika slips to the side and makes a gesture at Muura to get up so Jessika can get out. "We'll continue this conversation somewhere else, if it needs to be." For as many individuals as such a notorious prison might chase away, Jessika knows there could be some it might attract. Watching David rise, she makes the effort to go around the whole other side just to get out. She steps across, over to where Ektor is, and waits to follow.

Ektor looks at Muura with narrowed blue eyes, briefly pretending he wants to slug the smuggler. "You got a real talent for pissing people off, Naq." A terse exhale as he keeps his feet, downs the drink that Muura hadn't touched yet and nods to Jess. "Thanks. Let's get outta here, yeah?"

Muura moves when nudged, and scrapes together his dignity. "I could have won. But... hitting a female, you know?"

"C'mon, 94's this way." David tells the others, hiding his blaster under his jacket for now. His other hand goes to his pocket o'credits when he passes the bar, quickly settling up, patting the bartender on the shoulder as he tells him to nevermind the change. "Right. Let's go." Standing as close to the wall as he can, David quickly holsters the blaster again, leaving it unclasped just in case. Patting Muura on the back to get him to move, he nods. "Yeah, it's always weird when you're a good person faced with a bad woman. I prefer when they're faceless helmets, personally."

"No problem." Jessika hikes an inquisitive brow at Muura following her passing comment to Ektor, as if to ask him to go on with what he's saying. After David's comment, Jessika mutters something under her breath so it's unintelligible, and rather than let everyone get clustered up into a single group, she bypasses the hesitating Muura and leads the way up the steps, to step back out into the oppressive sun and heat of the Tatooine day. The grit and sediment grinds underneath the soles of her boots, and excess sand scatters as her footsteps scuff up the steps. She's out in the street a few moments later, wincing against the light.

Ektor follows Jess out of the cantina with a more purposely stride than he'd walked in with, and a scowl in place of a smirk. He's in a sour mood for someone who just narrowly dodged an ass kicking.

Muura gallantly (cowardly) declines to elaborate at Jessika's inquisitive look, playing it off with a nervous chuckle as they pass into the sun. Shortly after, comlinks warble with the reports of a successful cargo transfer.