One Thing Leads to Another [Cirith]

[...from Drowning Sorrows..]


Rogarr listened as his AI, Vera, explained a job offer that showed up just in the last few minutes. It was a smuggling job but, the contents that were to be smuggled was unknown for now. The job paid a good amount though, which was great. The not so good side was that every smuggler from here to Mustafar would probably be after them for their cargo.

That's what happened with these well paying jobs...they were well paying for that exact reason. Smuggling was dangerous to begin with, then you had to take the competition into the equasion. Most of the funds on these type of jobs were an assurance for security, and for the most part it had worked. There were always exceptions though.

Rogarr knew he would need more than himself and his top of the line AI unit to complete this job. He would need extra hands and he knew where to find atleast one person. In fact he was following the Balosar but, at a discreet distance ofcourse.

The Balosar went into a red Vector class freighter named the Crimpson Requiem. Rogarr was a bit suprised to find that the Balosar left the hatch open. Gingerly he stepped up to the hatch and listened. He heard bottles being tossed around and smashed. He cringed internally, he could already imagine what the interior of the ship looked like. Steeling himself, Rogarr knocked on the hatch in three loud raps.

"Hello? Captain? May I come in?" Rogarr called placing a red boot inside and leaning in slightly so his voice would carry farther into the freighter "I would like to talk to you about a job!"

The Balosar had almost whooped for joy when he stumbled upon something a lot more useful in the back of the small closet in his cabin--deathsticks. But, to his obvious later dismay, they had been all used up. They were just empty shells no longer carrying their amazing drug. And so Pak had reacted by throwing them back into the closet, hearing a satisfying crack as one of the tubes connected with something hard inside. Having already checked the obvious suspects as the galley, lounge area and cockpit, he was running out of possible hiding places for liquor. Besides the cargo hold, his room was the last place he could think of. He was desperate, but not desperate enough to hide any booze in the medbay or empty cabins. Not yet, at least.

His head was buried under his bed when he heard something strange. And it wasn't coming from his hands as they rustled around under his cot through piles of dirty clothes and empty bottles. Forgetting his place for a moment he tried to jump up quickly and instead succeeded only in give himself the start to a large welt on his head, only missing one of his sensitive 'palps by a couple centimeters. He swore loudly and extricated himself from his position. Pak rubbed his head and headed out of his cabin just in time to hear someone yell something about a job.

Not even thinking it was strange to have someone show up to his ship with an offer, Pak went immediately to the Requiem's hatch, logic being: Where else would the voice be coming from? As he came around the corner and closer to the opening, he could see something waiting for him down at the bottom of the ramp. Some kind of short furry thing. Shorter than him, at least, who was a bit below the human average for height. He didn't recognize the species, but something was familiar about the fellow...

He leaned against the open hatchway, not caring how disheleved he might look with his wrinkled clothes and mussed hair. Gone for the moment were thoughts of finding something strong to drink. Because now with the prospect of a job he had a prospect of something to keep his mind busy with something else but depressing images. Pak raised an eyebrow at the being, his antennapalps actually in tune for once and not forgotten in a drunken haze. For now, there was nothing he could feel from the other to cause him worry. "Explain yourself." The Balosar's voice was without any malice but carried a slight hint of curiosity.

"Ah good, you are awake. There's a smuggling job that I will need help with. May I come inside? We can talk about the job and other necessities, like pay, over a nice drink" Rogarr said his ears rising in pleasure at finding the Balosar sober and awake.

The Amaran held up the bartender's bottles and shook them playfully. They were freshly filled with a strong light brown liquid that smelled like a mixture of honey and oranges. Rogarr didn't know what the drinks were called but, they were apparently the bartender's best and probably strongest drinks.

"My name is Rogarr Clawfere. I'm an Amaran. What might your name be Captain?" Rogarr said holding out his hand in greeting for the Balosar to take, a pleasant smile on his furry face.

Pak had to give the guy some credit. Despite the being's small size, the furry man had quite the confidence to just walk up to a random ship in the spaceport, especially one in Colony Three on Ylesia, knock on an open hatch and offer a job to a complete stranger. He knew he wouldn't have dared approach a strange ship even if he did need help on a job. The former fighter pilot would rather just schlep through the job on his own than ask for help. Plus, there was the little minor thing that this guy somehow knew Pak was also a smuggler... A smuggler that was willing to work with others.

He nodded, though. Talking could never hurt, not really. There would be plenty of time later when he was seated to find out details about everything and answer all his questions. So Pak stepped aside and let the other being board the ramp and led him inside to the galley. He would have preferred the common area with the lounge, but it was more of a mess than elsewhere in the ship. Even as a down-on-his-luck guy trying to make it in the smuggling business, Pak still had some standards.

Also, the galley was where his glasses and tumblers were. The offer of the liquor bottles hadn't gone unnoticed to the Balosar. Even though he had something else on his mind now and no longer needed drink to dull the memories, he wasn't about to disregard someone else's hospitality. Pak had recognized the labels as ones he had stared at in the Rampaging Reek, which was odd to him. Recognition slowly came to him as he opened a cupboard for a couple of small glasses with which to dispense the alcohol gift. Another piece to the puzzle, perhaps, but Pak still didn't know the guy.

Settling the half-full glasses of liquor on the table, Pak nodded at Rogarr before accepting the brief hand, or, well, paw-shake with his possible new business associate. So far this Rogarr seemed friendly enough. No warning signs were penetrating his antennapalps. And if the Balosar wanted to get farther ahead in this business, having some with experience, which this one seemed to have, could be helpful to him. If they could come to some kind of agreement.

"Nice to meet you." Right now politeness was the number one thing on Pak's mind. Despite how well things seemed to be going so far--if it could be called that--he had learned to be wary of what looked to be good things. Lots of things turned out to be not what they seemed, as he learned as a child on Balosar, as a pilot for the Republic and recently in the last few months trying to be a smuggler. He needed to be friendly but cautious, considering how this Rogarr came to be in his acquaintance.

"Pak Har'endanno. But you can call me Pak." He took the time then to sip from his glass. A bit weak, as was everything from the Reek, but still good enough. Enough to make him regret having spent his evening with ale instead of this blessed elixir. But then it was time to get to business. Pak set down his glass and then leveled his eyes at his companion, leaning his elbows on the table. "What exactly brings you here, to me? I don't exactly advertise." He wasn't exactly denying his occupation but not really confirming either. Pak just wanted to feel this guy out to make sure he was legit. Well, as legit as a smuggler might be.

Rogarr smiled pleasantly, truly delighted that the Balosar wasn't put on the defensive like almost every Smuggler Rogarr had known "Nice to meet you Pak. As I stated already I have a job I'm going to need some help with. The bartender at the bar pointed me toward you" the Amaran explained easily as he took a sip of the contents of his glass.

It was true in a way, the bartender said that he hadn't seen him before, which Rogarr took to mean the Balosar traveled frequently, and both the bartender and Rogarr had noticed that Pak drank...alot. Rogarr simply figured that a being like that, was either trying to drink away sorrows or, he was getting just enough of a buzz that he could deal with the boredom of not having a job.

"You see there's a shipment of spice, weapons and armor that need to be shipped from Umgul to Nar Shaddaa and my vessel isn't nearly big enough to carry the load. That and I'll need some extra hands just to carry it and protect it from others" Rogarr said simply, drawing an imaginary line from Umgul to Nar Shaddaa on the surface of the table.
"The job pays very well, since it is such a dangerous journey and because of the contents ofcourse. I'll be willing to pay you up to half, which would be ten thousand. What do you say?"

Rogarr rested easily in his seat, not worried in the least about being attacked. He hadn't given away the location of the pick-up point. He wanted to know that the Balosar was onboard first. He'd deliberately given the Balosar only enough information to wet his appetite, the rest however, he'd been totally honest about and it showed in his posture. The Amaran drank down the contents of his glass and sighed, feeling the light buzz in the back of his head. Rogarr set his glass down gently and looked to Pak as he considered his offer.

He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows a bit when the Amaran sitting across from him mentioned that the Reek's bartender had pointed him in his direction. Now, Pak knew that had to be a lie because in no time during his stay at the cantina had he said anything more to the human bartender besides asking for refills of his mug of ale. He had just recently landed on Ylesia, and know one knew he was there. Nor did he know anyone on the planet himself personally. So the fact that anyone in the bar, let alone the bartender, would point the way to the Balosar or his ship had to be completely false. Especially considering that Rogarr didn't even know his name and probably only found him by following him to the Requiem.

However, for now Pak was willing to wait this Rogarr out, showing no other sign on his face about the lie besides a brief lift of his brows. The intent of the Amaran hadn't changed, so told him through his antennapalps. Still no danger or suspicious emotions. Perhaps this fellow was just willing to do anything he could to get help on this supposedly difficult job he had gotten himself, including lying.

Pak turned away from him a moment to take another sip of his liquid pleasure, the liquor that the other had provided so graciously. He was content for the moment to let Rogarr talk and explain his job, giving himself time to think as well about whether he wanted in on it or not. Up until now he had been just wandering around, getting an odd job here and there, ferrying supplies and other cargo from place to place. Sometimes it was legit, sometimes a little more shady. Pak just took any offer that came his way, which were few and far between for an amateur like himself. Most of the big beings who paid the big credits wanted tried and true pilots, people they semi trusted. And the Balosar was far from being one of those. But if this Amaran guy had more of an in within the business, perhaps Pak could ride in on his coattails.

Noticing that his glass was now empty, Pak nodded his head absently, agreeing with the other about the difficulties of the job he was speaking of. It seemed completely fair to him that the cargo would be large enough that he needed extra hands. He just didn't understand why the Amaran couldn't hire some luckless Gamorreans or some other beings to do it for him. Why he needed another smuggler, albeit it a down-on-his-luck smuggler, to help him with it. Besides the fact of his ship, that was. Pak had to concede on that point, despite that he didn't have any clue as to what kind of ship Rogarr had. The Requiem was his prized possession and he loved nothing more in the galaxy than her, besides Shenhua. And then there was the matter of the payment. 10,000 credits was a lot of money to him. His reserves were getting a bit low, he knew, and that much money would keep him living well for quite some time, living roughly as he was now for twice as long as that. The credits alone were almost worth it.

So far nothing about the being's offer was sending out warning klaxons to him. But he was wary about a catch. Pak reached for the bottle of liquor and was about to fill up his glass again. Instead he changed his mind and just put the neck to his lips, taking a gulp from the bottle directly. Then he turned his eyes to the Amaran. "I say that your offer looks really good. Seems easy enough." Pak set the bottle back down on the galley table. "However, it almost sounds too good. I'm wondering... is there a catch?" The Balosar knew he was probably close to accepting this deal anyway, catch or no, as the lump of credits stared at him in his mind, but he was willing to ask anyway. Better to know what he was getting himself into before he got there.

"No, no catch" Rogarr said honestly leaning back in the chair easily and sipping at his drink "Though I can certainly understand why you would think so. I appreciate the skepticism, it tells me you're not one to just grab blindly at any job. That's smart. If that were the case, this conversation would be ending right now." The Amaran smiled, swirled the rest of his drink gently, before downing it and setting it on the table.

"I know it seems like a trap and nothing is as truly easy or as fortunate as this situation, in fact I'm counting on trouble. It'd be silly not to. There's no catch though, you do some honest smuggling and you get honest pay. That's how I work." Rogarr leaned forward a little, this was always the tough part for him. He didn't like threatening anybody, but, his next words were not a threat but, a warning. "Be warned though, if you try to take the cargo for yourself. I know who you are and what your ship looks like and where you'll most likely head...I'll let you figure out the rest" Rogarr said, his voice gentle at the beginning only to turn politely firm at the end. The Amaran shrugged as if it really didn't matter, in his mind it was the truth, one way or another Rogarr would get his half of the pay for the job. Even if he had to do some fancy flying first.

"Listen, I own a small fighter. I'm very proud of it because I built it but, fuel and repairs that I sometimes need help with, are expensive. This cargo is a large order, larger than my little hide-away will hold. Thus is why I need your help. I asked the bartender about you and he said he's never seen you before. Which I took to mean you travel alot, go figure" Rogarr said with a humorous smile and a sweep of his hands. "I saw you inhaling those drinks earlier, and figured you were either trying to drink away past sorrows, or you were trying to get enough of a buzz to pass the time. Your own actions did the rest for me."

Rogarr stood up politely "I hope I wasn't too harsh on you. I just wanted you to know where I stand. I'll leave you to mull my offer over. Contact me at hangar A3, I'll be waiting to hear from you." The Amaran turned and started to walk calmly away but, hesitated when he reached the hallway that led to the hatch. Rogarr turned and sighed "I really hope we can work together and come to trust each other because, there's enough desperate people out there that are willing to stab each other in the back for money. I find that behavior repulsive though, so I don't do it. I just thought you should know that" with that Rogarr stepped out of the Requiem.

Glad that the other hadn't taken offense at his question of whether there was a catch, why the job seemed so easy and paid so well, Pak relaxed himself a bit, removing his arms from the table in front of him. In fact, Rogarr seemed to agree with Pak's assumption of a possible catch. Perhaps a partnership with this being wouldn't be so bad after all. Perhaps they could work together in the future. It wasn't often that the Balosar found someone else with a similar mindset as his own. Someone who thought as he did.

One of his hands went back to the bottle, and he sipped from it from time to time as Rogarr explained himself and his purpose for 'stalking' Pak and following him to his ship. Anyone less would probably have set the Amaran packing having found him on his ramp. But Pak considered himself a being with an open mind. Or perhaps just a desperate one with eyes on a huge prize and the prospect of something to keep him busy for a while.

He had to nod in agreement, though, when Rogarr mentioned that there was probably going to be trouble. Not exactly a catch but that was just the business of smuggling, whether you were doing it legally or not. Pak had run into his fair share of difficulties in his short term working in the same arena. And those had been the cause of him not getting the higher-paying jobs. There was still a lot for him to learn in this business.

A buzzing in his head indicated to him through his antennapalps that there was a change in his companion's emotions, but he didn't feel any danger. Just a hardening of the Amaran's resolve as he tried to threaten Pak. He kept from smiling, though. That wouldn't do to keep him on Rogarr's good graces. All he could do was nod. Nothing less could be expected from another being if he had stolen from them. If it were the reverse, he knew he would hunt down his former partner and get what was due to him. But just the fact that this fellow thought Pak would betray him was laughable. Or that he thought he could take him down along with the Requiem..

Sipping more from the liquor bottle, finishing it off by the time he was done talking, Pak listened quietly to the rest of Rogarr's speech about his reasoning for the way he approached the Balosar about his job and requesting his help and half of the credits payment. The explanation all made sense. He wouldn't have turned down the job if he couldn't fit the cargo in his ship. Too much money was at stake. The logical thing for Rogarr to have done was to find help, not give up on a good thing. Pak couldn't fault him for that.

As the Amaran stood up to leave and spoke his last remarks, Pak just let him. Best for him to think that he did indeed some time to think the offer through. He didn't want to sound too desperate or eager for the credits or the work, for that matter. So he would putter around his ship for a while, do his 'thinking' and perhaps clean up a little bit. He should have company again soon, and not just over for some drinks.

Lifting a hand in farewell to Rogarr, Pak watched him leave the galley before turning his gaze to his empty liquor bottle. Fortunately, though, the Amaran had brought two others, and so he reached for one of the two others left on the table and popped it up. One more drink, and then he would see about any preparations he needed to make to his ship before he went to see an Amaran about a job.


***


Two hours later Pak had the Requiem properly tidied up to his personal standards. Standards that would make a high-rise maid droid shudder in despair, but that satisfied him just as well. He was a bachelor and not too picky on things like cleanliness unless it interfered with his life, like his ability to find a full bottle of alcohol or a fresh shirt. Otherwise, things were tucked away in closets and corners, giving the appearance of a clean ship. All the broken bottles and other items from his earlier rampage were shoved in the garbage compactor, waiting to be jettisoned in space. As long as Rogarr didn't look too closely, he wouldn't be any wise to Pak's ruse. Besides, the spare cabin was spotless; Pak never went in there anyway, so it hadn't been touched since he bought the ship.

Pleased with his efforts, he headed back to the cockpit, preferring to just comm the Amaran with his decision that he had taken so long to come to. It would just waste time for him to wander through the spaceport looking for the being, and he had assumed this job required time-saving. Plus, the guy hadn't told him how to contact him, anyway. The quicker they could get going, the better. And the quicker he could get his credits.

Patching his call through spaceport control, he eventually made contact with Rogarr's fighter in A-3. "Hello there, captain. Pak here. I took some time to think about your offer, and you're right... it's hard to resist. And I accept. Tell your boss you're go for pickup." Pak paused, not sure what else to say next, and so he just went on. "If you can find your way back here, I'll start getting the Requiem prepped for take-off." He glanced at his chrono, remembering that the Amaran probably had other things to take care of besides finalizing things with his boss and the job. "And, er... lock up your ship. There's no room for it in my hold. Sorry. Anyway, see you in about an hour, partner."

Signing off his comm, Pak got to work starting the start-up procedures on his ship, hoping that Rogarr wouldn't be late. The Balosar was back in action again, and hopefully this time he wouldn't fail.


[to And Ask Questions Later...]