...Wait, So You're NOT a Blacksmith??

[Meira]

Since Commenor, things had sailed fairly smooth. They delivered the goods they thought they'd lost, taken their pay, and moved on to the next job. They'd decided to hold on to that Trandoshan's ship since he wasn't going to be using it any time soon. Having their own ship and decent wages took quite a load off their shoulders, and it opened the door to new job opportunities.

All that being said, it certainly wasn't the high life for the two ex-soldiers. They still lived hand to mouth, running a ship that was meant for more than a crew of two. They managed better than they had been before, but not much. Dal knew that they'd have to change the way they operated if they were going to keep their upward momentum going.

First thing on the list, acquire a crew. They didn't really need too many more bodies. More bodies meant more mouths to feed. But a few were essential. A pilot, for one, was a must. Sera knew a few things about flying, but they needed someone with a bit more experience. Some kind of mechanic or tech expert wouldn't hurt either.

Luckily, Dal and Sera were about to scope out a couple of possibilities. Double lucky, they were going to be meeting these hopefuls on the way to their newest job. If everything went well, they'd kill two birds with one stone while on Mandalore.

The job was something a bit different than what Dal and Sera had done before. Technically it was still something of a 'smash and grab', but this time they'd be grabbing a person rather than an object. Dal didn't really have any qualms about the job; the employer wanted the mark alive and well. So it wasn't like cold blooded murder. Plus, it was a full grown man. Dal wasn't above kidnapping, so long as he wasn't taking actual children.

No, they were hunting down a man, one that Dal hoped would put up something of a fight. Mandalorians were known for their battle prowess. Dal admired that. His own culture was similar, albeit far more primitive in their motivations. The Ratataki cared little for tactics and conquest. They preferred to smash each other to bloody pulps on their own home world. Dal had impersonated a Mandalorian once before, but had never actually met one. He hoped this man lived up to the hype.

Their mark was a man named Kar'ath. He was a blacksmith on Mandalore. Apparently he'd been leading on a wealthy arms dealer, selling him information and promising to deliver the secret to forging Mandalorian iron. But it seemed the dealer had grown tired of waiting. Dal and Sera were contracted to bring the man in so that me might be more aggressively persuaded to make good on his promises.

The blacksmith's home was in a small town along an overland rail route. He wouldn't be hard to find. Dal and Sera had arrived in the town around mid day and headed straight for the cantina where they were to meet a prospective tech. Dal wasn't exactly clear on what the man's skills were, but he was fairly sure whatever he could do, it'd be better than what he or Sera could. Once they'd met and hopefully gained another crew member, they'd find the blacksmith and leave Mandalore in their wake. Simple.

Dal took up residence in a booth off to the side in the cantina, ordering an ale from a passing waitress. The cantina wasn't very crowded, it still being the late afternoon. This made it easy to study all those within the establishment. He assumed the man they were going to be meeting would find them. Dal certainly wasn't hard to miss. He was as pale as a ghost and half again as big as most of the men in the place; it was safe to say he stood out. If he didn't catch attention, Sera would. Zeltrons tended to do that.

[Dire Wolf]

Sera gave a heavy sigh as she leaned her weight against the somewhat soft cushion, her arms crossed and green eyes wandering about the establishment. The zeltron woman looked far better than she'd been on Commenor, thanks to a definite shift in fortune. There was far more meat on her bones, at least enough for her to be considered where she was before her treason was committed.

Her eyes eventually made their way to the hulking ghost that was Dalibor Antero. Those long fingers of hers tapped against her bicep as she watched Dal, and eyed the florescent colored drink. It was one of the more powerful that the mandalorian bar served, and no bit of mandalorian cuisine would be complete without spiciness. Which was about all it was good for; with her second liver, the drink may as well have been spicy water.

They did, in fact, attract a lot of attention though, but not because of Dal's pale giant attributes or Sera's distinct redness. It may have been part of the reason, sure, but something told her that she would have stuck out just as much even if she was a simple human. If anything, her jet black light armor and the sniper rifle leaned against the seat at her side made her fit in a bit more than if she were indeed a simple human in simple attire. But no, they were outsiders. Outsiders didn't frequent backwater villages on worlds like mandalore very often.

Her arms unfolded for a second to brush some of that deep blue hair (she'd let the color fade out to its natural color) from her face and tuck it behind her ear. "Do you know anything about this guy? Like when he'll get here? This job won't finish itself, you know."

[sparrow]

Unbeknownst to Sera, she was not the only Zeltron in the village at the time. Felze Zeng was not a mandalorian, but a freelance slicer, mechanical, and all-around tech. He was currently in the area working on some droid repairs for the locals, for while Mandorians were excellent warriors and loved constructing weapons, they often seemed rather clueless with any technology that couldn't be used to kill someone.

"And,... done," he declared as he bolted the the back panel of the droid back in place, "Although I do suggest you try some a different model in the future. If you want quality without breaking the bank, the Czerka models tend not to cut it."

"Oh? What to do you suggest?"

"Duwani, Automata,... some of the baseline Sark models are pretty reliable as well, if a bit barebone on features." He popped the top off of the flask that hung on his belt and took a quick drink.

The Mandalorian nodded thoughtfully, or at least that's how it looked. Felze could never really tell what these Mandalorians were thinking when they kept their faces hidden behind those helmets all the time. He wondered if they slept with their headgear on. It wouldn't be surprising if they did.

He took the credit chip that the Mandalorian handed him in payment for his services, and tipped his hat on his way out.

[Meira]

Leaned back in the chair, Dal took up his glass and downed the remainder of the ale he'd ordered. Ever since Commenor, he'd grown fond of alcohol. He'd yet to ingest as much as they had that night, but the experience increased his casual drinking from never to occasionally. After setting the empty glass down on the table, he stretched his arms. His left arm, which was to the outside of the booth, absentmindedly reached down to scratch Rocky behind the ears. The wolfcat sat close to the booth, wary eyes ever on the lookout for danger. But at the feel of his master's hand on his head, the cat let out a low purr of satisfaction.

"Do you know anything about this guy? Like when he'll get here? This job won't finish itself, you know."

"It won't?" Dal asked with a mock expression of confusion. "Damn." he snapped his fingers to add emphasis to the disappointment. Then he chuckled.

"Doll, I don't know. Our contact just said he usually comes in here." Dal pulled his data pad from a pocket along the leg of his black cargo pants. Turning it on, he gave the message another look. "Felze Zenge..." Scrolling down, he noticed a description he hadn't seen before.

"Well I'll be a wookie's uncle." Dal said before sliding the data pad across the table to Sera. "He's a Zeltron."

As if the realization summoned the man himself, the door to the cantina opened and in came a male Zeltron. Dal watched the man approach the bar, giving Sera a nudge on the leg with his foot, then indicating with his chin in the direction of the bar. This could very well be their guy.

But Dal didn't get up right away. Instead, he sat himself up a little straighter and continued to observe the new arrival. Their contact had told Dal that this Felze knew they'd be on Mandalore for a job and that they were wanting to meet with him. So if this was their guy, then he'd surely be keeping an eye out for them as much as they were for him.