Post by Bobbi on Jul 1, 2022 21:48:54 GMT -5
Bastion
Chree Spaceport city
13:00 local, standard time.
Sometimes he still found it so odd to walk around in the open that he often would continue to check over his shoulder, or feel the need to get a grip on the surrounding security grid. When those moments rose it made his hands itchy.
Those days were behind him, but it wasn’t so easy to let go of the habits built during, what felt now, to be lifetimes ago. The urge to follow them, to rely on what he’d been taught, was still strong. Strong enough that when he saw planetary defense poking around the port that he considered backing off and finding another way to do this.
But Solomon wasn’t a fugitive anymore. He’d been exonerated, his name wiped off bounty boards with the pardon from the Queen of Hapes. He kept to his path, cutting through the crowd and making way for a cantina he’d marked when he’d given Lilly the heads-up that he was on his way.
Kravens’ was just about the same as it had been the last time he’d seen it. The loud music hadn’t changed, and if he ordered that same god awful drink they had labeled as “Corellian” he was sure it would still taste like four day old dishwater mixed with bantha fodder.
The screens around the place were updated, though, now able to show at least four different games at once and not all of them were Speedball.
Once through the door to the place Sol paused just briefly, caught off guard for half a second as a drunk Duro attempted to reach out and clap a blue skinned, skeleton thin hand around his right arm. He ducked back out of the way, avoiding the touch, but heard the Duro muttering about how he liked Sol’s jacket. Something about good team. Good team. They’ll take the cup, you know…
“Yeah…” Sol’s response to that was wane, a tug coming from his hands to the bottom of the jacket to straighten it out. He should have worn the older one instead of the green and black one Trinity gave him. This new-ish one, he was suddenly coming to realize, might be too attention grabbing in a club full of Speedball fans. The old one, at least, was too faded to draw attention.
Lessons for next time.
Weaving his way into the club led him to a small round table, just steps away from the bar, where he took a seat. He hadn’t been sitting there long before a shadow fell across the table. During that short time, Sol had pulled a small datapad out of his jacket and had begun tapping away at the screen.
“If you’re going to do that here, we charge triple rates for drinks. Stuff like that is outlawed around here these days.”
That voice drew a small smile from him, and the speaker was made to wait just a few seconds longer before he was done tapping away at the screen and looking up from his work, “Well, I’ll take my business elsewhere then.”
“--And now you’re wasting my time! Some people…” For half a second the Chadra fan he was looking at appeared ready to turn away from him, but her eyes caught the line of customers milling around the bar and she paused before turning back to drop herself down into a seat at his table. “Rates have gone up, Sol. Digging around has become a lot harder than it used to be.”
The quick change had him blinking, the datapad slid silently from the table and placed back into his jacket. “The rates are not a concern, Lyla. I need some work done. I need a shell account --”
She leaned in, eying him up and down with a small sniff and a blink from her large black eyes, “Into money laundering these days? Bad business there, I wouldn’t suggest it.”
“No,” The word rolled from him as he shook his head, and looked around to see who was near their table. He hated doing business like this out in the open, “It’s not for me. I could build it myself, but I don’t need my fingerprints anywhere near it. I can supply the creds, but the work can’t be mine and it needs to be airtight.”
Lyla sat back, watching Solomon Tekal for a brief few moments, her large ears twitching against the backdrop of the Kravens’ music. “You’ll get a good price. I’ll make sure of it.” There those large black eyes blinked again, “Who's the account for, one of your kin?”
“A friend who found himself mixed up in something he’d rather forget . Just get me the account, Lyla. All I need is that information and I can do the rest.”
“A friend, eh?” She must have gotten a new translator since the last time he saw her. He realized in that moment that the voice sounded different, there was more inflection to the translation than there used to be in the past.
“Yeah, a friend. One I won’t be talking about so don’t ask.”
Lyla’s hands came up, “Alright, alright. Sheesh. I don’t hear from you for months and this is what you bring to me? You don’t want me to ask, I won’t ask.” Her hands fell and she studied him for a moment more, “Give me two days to get the work done.”
“Two days? Come on, Lyla. I can get something like this done in under an hour. Don’t try to play me like that.”
There Lyla shrugged, her large ears flicking slightly as she sniffed again, “Things are different now, Sol. It’s not like it used to be.”
He sat back, a deep sigh pressing itself out of him as he exhaled through his nose, “How much to get it done in a day? My friend can’t wait that long.”
“Mm, for you?” The price was named, leaving Sol to tap at the table’s top with his fingertips.
“Really? You’re going to charge me that much?”
The Chadra Fan shrugged, “A girl’s gotta eat, Sol.”
His eyes rolled but he sat forward and tapped his fingers against the tabletop one more time, “Alright. Fine. But it better be worth that much, and done by the time I call you back in twelve hours. Payment on delivery.”
“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way!” There was a small chuffing noise from the Chadra Fan that Sol knew to be the sound of Lyla chuckling. He ignored it as he rose. He’d made it to his feet but stopped there because Lyla was reaching out for him, “One more thing before you go, Sol.”
“What is it, Lyla?”
“You look good. You sound good too. Much better than the last time we spoke. You should come around more often even if there is no work to get done.”
“I’ll think about it, Fen. Thanks for taking this job for me.”
The Chadra Fan gave a nod, her large black eyes closing and then opening again as Sol slipped away from the table and disappeared into the crowd.
Chree Spaceport city
13:00 local, standard time.
Sometimes he still found it so odd to walk around in the open that he often would continue to check over his shoulder, or feel the need to get a grip on the surrounding security grid. When those moments rose it made his hands itchy.
Those days were behind him, but it wasn’t so easy to let go of the habits built during, what felt now, to be lifetimes ago. The urge to follow them, to rely on what he’d been taught, was still strong. Strong enough that when he saw planetary defense poking around the port that he considered backing off and finding another way to do this.
But Solomon wasn’t a fugitive anymore. He’d been exonerated, his name wiped off bounty boards with the pardon from the Queen of Hapes. He kept to his path, cutting through the crowd and making way for a cantina he’d marked when he’d given Lilly the heads-up that he was on his way.
Kravens’ was just about the same as it had been the last time he’d seen it. The loud music hadn’t changed, and if he ordered that same god awful drink they had labeled as “Corellian” he was sure it would still taste like four day old dishwater mixed with bantha fodder.
The screens around the place were updated, though, now able to show at least four different games at once and not all of them were Speedball.
Once through the door to the place Sol paused just briefly, caught off guard for half a second as a drunk Duro attempted to reach out and clap a blue skinned, skeleton thin hand around his right arm. He ducked back out of the way, avoiding the touch, but heard the Duro muttering about how he liked Sol’s jacket. Something about good team. Good team. They’ll take the cup, you know…
“Yeah…” Sol’s response to that was wane, a tug coming from his hands to the bottom of the jacket to straighten it out. He should have worn the older one instead of the green and black one Trinity gave him. This new-ish one, he was suddenly coming to realize, might be too attention grabbing in a club full of Speedball fans. The old one, at least, was too faded to draw attention.
Lessons for next time.
Weaving his way into the club led him to a small round table, just steps away from the bar, where he took a seat. He hadn’t been sitting there long before a shadow fell across the table. During that short time, Sol had pulled a small datapad out of his jacket and had begun tapping away at the screen.
“If you’re going to do that here, we charge triple rates for drinks. Stuff like that is outlawed around here these days.”
That voice drew a small smile from him, and the speaker was made to wait just a few seconds longer before he was done tapping away at the screen and looking up from his work, “Well, I’ll take my business elsewhere then.”
“--And now you’re wasting my time! Some people…” For half a second the Chadra fan he was looking at appeared ready to turn away from him, but her eyes caught the line of customers milling around the bar and she paused before turning back to drop herself down into a seat at his table. “Rates have gone up, Sol. Digging around has become a lot harder than it used to be.”
The quick change had him blinking, the datapad slid silently from the table and placed back into his jacket. “The rates are not a concern, Lyla. I need some work done. I need a shell account --”
She leaned in, eying him up and down with a small sniff and a blink from her large black eyes, “Into money laundering these days? Bad business there, I wouldn’t suggest it.”
“No,” The word rolled from him as he shook his head, and looked around to see who was near their table. He hated doing business like this out in the open, “It’s not for me. I could build it myself, but I don’t need my fingerprints anywhere near it. I can supply the creds, but the work can’t be mine and it needs to be airtight.”
Lyla sat back, watching Solomon Tekal for a brief few moments, her large ears twitching against the backdrop of the Kravens’ music. “You’ll get a good price. I’ll make sure of it.” There those large black eyes blinked again, “Who's the account for, one of your kin?”
“A friend who found himself mixed up in something he’d rather forget . Just get me the account, Lyla. All I need is that information and I can do the rest.”
“A friend, eh?” She must have gotten a new translator since the last time he saw her. He realized in that moment that the voice sounded different, there was more inflection to the translation than there used to be in the past.
“Yeah, a friend. One I won’t be talking about so don’t ask.”
Lyla’s hands came up, “Alright, alright. Sheesh. I don’t hear from you for months and this is what you bring to me? You don’t want me to ask, I won’t ask.” Her hands fell and she studied him for a moment more, “Give me two days to get the work done.”
“Two days? Come on, Lyla. I can get something like this done in under an hour. Don’t try to play me like that.”
There Lyla shrugged, her large ears flicking slightly as she sniffed again, “Things are different now, Sol. It’s not like it used to be.”
He sat back, a deep sigh pressing itself out of him as he exhaled through his nose, “How much to get it done in a day? My friend can’t wait that long.”
“Mm, for you?” The price was named, leaving Sol to tap at the table’s top with his fingertips.
“Really? You’re going to charge me that much?”
The Chadra Fan shrugged, “A girl’s gotta eat, Sol.”
His eyes rolled but he sat forward and tapped his fingers against the tabletop one more time, “Alright. Fine. But it better be worth that much, and done by the time I call you back in twelve hours. Payment on delivery.”
“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way!” There was a small chuffing noise from the Chadra Fan that Sol knew to be the sound of Lyla chuckling. He ignored it as he rose. He’d made it to his feet but stopped there because Lyla was reaching out for him, “One more thing before you go, Sol.”
“What is it, Lyla?”
“You look good. You sound good too. Much better than the last time we spoke. You should come around more often even if there is no work to get done.”
“I’ll think about it, Fen. Thanks for taking this job for me.”
The Chadra Fan gave a nod, her large black eyes closing and then opening again as Sol slipped away from the table and disappeared into the crowd.
