That ways much to rocky. (Jake, Charlie)

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

((OOC---This would be after 'Long term Trouble' and before 'Pit Hole to full'.))

From space it reminded him of Tatooine, but in truth it was the third planet of it's own system, and in stead of being sandy with storms, It was completely rocky, with winds that could compete with Tatooine.

The Star Hunter Made it's approach and Zett had a bit of trouble making it through the upper atmosphere where one of those very storms was brewing. He had avoided the heavy part of the storm but still had trouble navigating the less "Harmful" part of the storm. Part of him wondered what type of damage his ship would have taken if he had gone through the tougher area.

He landed at one of the settlements Where his cargo was unloaded it wasn't illegal but he wanted a job that wouldn't possibly threaten his life yet pay well. This particular Settlement was just a few years old and needed supplies, both Legal and other wise he had heard. But he opted for the food, water, and other stuff for his half of the job.

He had heard that the other pilot might want to speak with him and co-op another Job for the future, but as often as these things turned out to be traps he wasn't sure if he would be willing to take that offer.

A small group of the Natives greeted him and as they promised payed him for his supplies. He decided to at least wait for the other pilot who's name he couldn't remember. The closest thing to a Cantina was a small food Court type area that sold several types of foods and drink. Waiting for the other to eat here or at least something to happen would be enough to make him impatient.

((OOC---The other pilot/Smuggler could be one of you two or we could go a different way, your choice.))

[Dr. Jake]

The light freighter Lerasha exited hyperspace just outside of Iktotch's orbit. Jare'Nabala eased back on the engine control, bringing the ship to a modest cruising speed.

Yawning, Jaren stretched his weary muscles. For the past couple of days, he had been flying the Lerasha for some incognito arms dealer based off of Nal Hutta. The Lethan Twi'lek had stumbled across the job much like any other, but was surprised to learn that he would be travelling alone. The contact he met on Ruusan was vague and withholding, only giving him enough information to complete the job.

The pilot was in no way complaining, he had been payed 2,500 credits in advance, and he had been promised an additional 5,000 upon successful completion. All he had to do was land in some backwater settlement on Iktotch and meet up with his contact to finish the job. Sure, he had a shipment of very illegal blaster weaponry, but life in prison was an occupational hazard that came with being a Smuggler.

As the Lerasha entered Iktotch's hostile atmosphere, it was shook violently by the unrelenting wind storms that plagued the planet. Jaren, being a veteran pilot, was able to keep the ship on course, and before long he saw the vague outline of a small settlement situated in a sea of wilderness and rock.

After receiving permission, he set the ship down on one of the few spaces that served as landing pads on the outskirts of the settlement. There was definitely some sort of colonization initiative here, as houses were being constructed, water storage units being put up, and a whole list of other things Jaren didn't really care about.

He paid the Iktotchi Dock Master the appropriate landing fee, and a little extra just in case he decided to do a cargo inspection. The red-skinned pilot withdrew his datapad, pulling up the appropriate file. The text revealed to him that his contact would meet him at the outdoor bar, which was located in the food court area of the town. His instructions were to order Tarisian Whiskey on the rocks from the bar and take a seat farthest from said bar.

Shrugging, Jaren triple checked his blaster pistol, as one could never be too careful. He proceeded to the "food court" of sorts where he did as he was instructed, ordering the drink despite his disdain for it. The seat furthest from the bar was vacant, so Jaren took it as his own, awaiting the contact.

Less than a minute later, a Rodian the color of algae sat across from him. He began to speak in Rodese, a language Jaren could speak reasonably well.

"You have done well. As we speak, the shipment is being unloaded and distributed. As promised, here is the rest of your payment."

A green hand slid over a small bag, which was quickly snatched up by a red one. Jaren opened the bag and carefully counted the amount inside. Once he was content that he wasn't being tricked or otherwise bamboozled, he deposited it in his back pocket.

"So, Where do y'all want me to bring the ship, assuming I can't keep it?"

Chuckling, Jaren took an experimental sip of his whiskey, wrinkling his nose. It was delightfully disgusting, just like the last time he tried it, and the time before that.

The Rodian didn't seem amused.

"Unfortunately, you will have to find your own way off of the planet. We will contact you again when your services are needed again. Thank you."

The green contact got up and left, heading toward the landing pads. The little b****** was probably using the ship himself.

"F****** perfect."

Jaren dumped his whiskey on the ground and made his way to the bar. Hopefully there was someone looking for a pilot, or at least someone leaving this rock soon. Seating himself next to a young Human a few years his junior, the Lethan Twi'lek began to relax. He ordered some proper Corellian liquor, and scoped out the patrons. No girls here worth his time.

Peering over his right shoulder, Jaren noticed the Human watching the food court like a hawk. Wishing to make casual conversation, he spoke loud enough for the Human to hear, but quiet enough so that the locals couldn't hear.

"So what brings you to this little s***hole of a planet? Business or some sort of strange pleasure?"