Saddle Up Cowboy! [Open-Crew being taken]

[10Tickler]

Her pockets were considerably lighter, even though she had just been paid. There was a reason for that. A Grime-covered, battered, old reason, but a reason nonetheless. Celke Tarria was proud of herself, she had earned the Ship, had earned her current Extended Leave. It was going to be like a Vacation for her, and with a Smile, she had left the Holding dock that it had been placed in and headed to the Small, local bar.

A ship like that needed crew, and although Celke had a Few Friends that she'd love to see come with her, she doubted that they would, that meant getting together a Crew and being Sure they were trained. As a bare minimum, the Bonus Credit would require five other People then here to man and control it. That was the reason for her Trip.

As she seated herself in a small, dimly lit corner table, Celke smiled, happy to see that her message had gotten out over the Ethernet, A Freighter Captain Searching for a Combat-Trained Crew, Good pay.

Crossing her legs on the table, she waited for the First of them to approach her, her armor left on the ship. Celke had chosen to wear the Bloodstained Overalls from Operation Tenacity today, and they accentuated her Slight, yet Curvy Frame perfectly.

[Marius]

A stirring in the air signaled the issuing of something from the loudspeaker above, the static melding into the dank air of the planet known as Concord Dawn, in the durasteel building which tried to filter the heaviness from the planet, yet did not succeed in the least bit. One would expect nothing more from the dust-laden planet of Mandalorians, the place home to farmers and warriors alike as they intermingled in poorly kept cities. The people had no use for such things, being utilitarian in nature, so the one under said loudspeaker did not mind in the least bit. However, a noted abundance of apathy was expected of those of her nature.

The message however, was conveyed clearly enough, despite lack of participation from the air and loudspeaker. Someone was looking for a battle-hardy crew, and frankly Mariani had some time to kill.

The tall Falleen woman turned on the heel of her thick boot, the thin white robes she was wearing fluttering about a form that was both sleek and curvaceous, as was the habit of her species. From under the deep hood, violet oculars coolly scanned the inside of the building, hands hidden deep within the recesses of her garb at her side. It did not take her long to find the figure of the notably battle hardened woman, clad in overalls that accentuated the natural assets of the physically fit yet still feminine and were stained deeply with the passings of blood, that she assumed was the Freighter Captain announced.

Mariani’s plum-painted lids narrowed at the sight of the other female, a self-proclaimed Mandalorian no doubt. The Falleen superiority afforded her many doubts about the ability of this supposed captain, yet, afforded her some respect as well. The Mandalorian people were fierce warriors, albeit they were not at all like the original people of the name, none the less, they had conquered and killed many. But the sight of one out of their armor did not have the same affect she usually experienced when viewing one. Perhaps such was the reason she chose to visit Concord Dawn, to view that reality that was the Mandalorians, that they were not avatars of death, but merely a people; as vulnerable as most humanoids, still vastly different than the Falleen.

Nonetheless, the opportunity could provide to be an interesting one.

Pacing with measured, swift steps, the woman whom may still be considered a Jedi Shadow approached the owner of the Bonus Credit, stopping a few feet away to pull back the cowl that hid her perfectly symmetrical features.

“I have come to join with your crew,” Mari stated in her deadpan voice, her orange-painted lips forming the words with minimal effort. “I believe you would find my services more than desireable.”

[10Tickler]

Looking up from the Drink that she had gotten once arriving, Celke's combat 'radar' was on, and most definitly triggered by the approaching female, whos movements she observed with a sense of interest, cautious though it may be. What's with the Cloak? You a Jedi-Killer or something? she asked Mari, not even requesting a name, much less other Credentials. From her tone, she knew, it would be fairly obvious that only those that could pull their own on a ship would be coming.

Yet a smile Graced Celke Tarria's Face, her hand combing through her messy, purple hair and mussing it up even more then it had been before. Sit she said, gesturing to a nearby seat as she dropped her boots off of the table, noting the woman's race and not really giving a wamprat's rear. Celke waved for the Serving Droid to bring the other woman a drink of her choice, before looking back up, into Mari's eyes.

The name's Celke Tarria, And Yours isn't going to be important to me unless you know how to Fight and are willing to Go up against the worst that this galaxy has to offer. My ship is a Hauler, modified somewhat to make it more battle-worthy then a Squadron of Fighters But I don't need anyone who's gonna Puss out, y'hear? she asked, taking a sip of her noxious-looking concotion as she awaited an answer.

[Marius]

OOC: I am sorry, I have to pull out of this thread. The DJ meeting happened way sooner than I thought it would have.. I am sorry. D=

[10Tickler]

{{OOC ALRIGHT, TAKE IT FROM THE TOP FOLKS

[The Conman]

((OOC: I unno about the virus thing, it seems to be being largely ignored, so I'm going to assume its a non issue. If it is still...about, then I'll eradicate the post and figure something else out. ))

It felt like it'd been weeks since Doneeda had been on sold ground. Not that transports weren't solid, but the fact that most of the ones she'd been on for the past few days had ages measured in hundreds of years had something to do with it. Doneeda had been on her way to Courscant when she saw a news broadcast about a band of smugglers that had been rounded up on Corellia. Things were going to get rather unpleasent for her rather quickly if she didn't make trails in short order. So, at a stop over on Kuat, she decided to hop on a ship destined for a place called "Concord Dawn".

2 days, 6 third class spaceline meals, and 75 credits later, she was walking through a run down, dusty and hot city on Concord Dawn. The heat didn't bother her, neither did the sand, evolutionary adaptation took care of that aspect of things. It was her lack of a job that was the most pressing issue, and one she figured would be remedied with a visit to a local cantina.

Doneeda figured she'd find something...anything. Cantinas, especially the smaller ones, usually had the more colourful clients. Not that she was looking for anything necessarily "illegal" per-se , no, Doneeda'd had her fill of illegal activity for awhile. Laying low and finding steady work were her modus operandi for the next few months.

The first place Donnie went once she got into the bar was the job listings. She looked it over. Most of them were months, some years, out of date. The most recent 3 were posted months ago. Save one. There was a listing looking for " Combat-Trained " crew members. She swore to herself. Hopefully they needed a mechanic, she was better with a wrench than a blaster. And hopefully the Capitan was male...it'd certainly make things easier. Doneeda wasn't above using her " Evolutionary Adaptations " to get ahead.

Taking note of the location of the table to go and look for work, she headed over, meandering through people to get there. About half way there, she noticed that there was a female human sitting at the table. More imaginary obscenities. This may end up being harder than she thought. Still, Doneeda needed a job and this was all that was available, what was one to do? She thought as she walked upto the table.

I' uh.. saw' o'da jobord...'ou lookn' fo' crew?

She said, in the best basic she could muster.

[10Tickler]

Looking up from her drink, Celke's eyes were bright, their cerulean hue dim in the hazy, smoke-filled bar's lights. The approaching Female's Basic was rough, barely understandable, but with a little concentration, Celke could understand it. Still though, she wished for her Helmet's translator.

I am indeed the Mandalorian said, slowly and steadily, making sure to enunciate so that the girl-creature would understand her words. Celke didn't know this being's actual race, but it never hurt to be polite.

What Kind of Experience do you have on ships, or in Ship to ship Combat? she asked, smiling and motioning for the Female to sit.

[The Conman]

Doneeda did her best not to cringe at her slow speech. If there was one thing she hated, it was when people thought the language barrier went both ways.Regardless, she needed work, and this was progress.

I'm Linguistically challenged...not stupid! She thought

Well...s'far a' combad, no'a who'lot. Is mo' da aftermat' I fix. Oud' in'space thins ten' to ged broke'. I'n fix preddy much anyting, An I's a good pilot too, raced swoops o' Corellia.

[10Tickler]

With an eyebrow raised, Celke watched the woman's facial movements, observed her stance, then grinned evilly, fingering one of the items that was sitting on the seat next to her. How good are you then? Really... Don't embellish, don't lie, just tell me your Specialty within repair and let me decide, k? she told the girl, sitting back and wishing that she had another drink, or even the spare change to get another drink.

[The Conman]

Donnie figured she might as well spill, no harm in letting the woman know what she was good at.

Mosly I fix droids, com'putas, an' repulsors. God some 'sperence wid reactors, an' I work on hyperdrives before. I an' god 'sperence on a spaceship really, bud do be 'ones ,De sam' rule apply do a spaceship reator as do a speeders, de numbers jus ged biggar.

She said, as a serv-bot rolled over.

Ya want anything?

It asked. Doneeda finished the last of her drink and put the brown bottle down.

Nodder one'o dem. she said, looking at the bottle.

She looked over at the woman.

Ou wan' a drink, I god i'?

[10Tickler]

Sighing softly, Celke shook her head, her eyes closing and hiding the deep blue color from sight. Inside her own head, she thought for several moments before signaling to the Droid to Get her another drink, which came quickly. I'll take care of the drinks, don't worry about that she said with a smile as she downed the shot quickly then stood.

With a hand extended, the Short Mandolorian spoke once more. You have a Job then, You seem to be well Qualified with most of what I actually needed for Mechanical work on my ship. I may not be setting out on the Unofficial business anytime soon, but I do plenty of Other things with it, so If you'll stay, I'll keep you around. Maybe we can learn from one another, eh?

[The Conman]

Doneeda smirked then took a swig of her drink as the other woman downed her shot. She nodded when she mentioned the drinks, certainly made her life easier. It was the next bit that got her grinning like an idiot for a moment. Finally, things were starting to look up for her. Though, she had a moment where she realized that she'd eventually be getting shot at, but she didn't dwell.


I dink dat souns' like de bes' ding I hear all day.

She said through a grin.

Oh, I din' ged you name? Mine Doneeda Sok'nada.

[10Tickler]

The Name's Celke Tarria, Chief Warrant Officer Second Class Celke Tarria the minuscule Mandalorian said with a Grin, and with that, the meeting was essentially over.

They would work over pay rates and whatnot later, but for now, Celkie was happy...she had found a pair of Twins that would work the Guns, and that meant that her ship had a Skeleton crew. It helped that the Twins were mandalorians too, especially since her next move would be to Try and get them all to come with her on the next mission, either that or meet her directly afterward.