Rain, Rodia, and Ruthlessness

[Tristan Tahmores]

Honestly, Tristan had never been more nervous in his life. He'd never been to Rodia before, and after reading up as much on it as he could while in Hyperspace, he wished things could have remained that way. He felt lucky to have made it all the way from the Starport without getting eaten by one of the many native predators, or shot by one of the bug-eyed Rodians that seemed to be everywhere.

It is their homeworld, he chided, taking a moment to look around, seeking refuge from the rain under the shelter of a tall, plant-covered stone building. Not far, he thought, the dread in his stomach slowly increasing. It wasn't every day that you were summoned to the office of the most influentual crime lords - crime ladies - in the galaxy. That was enough to make anyone nervous. But bearing in mind how badly his last job for Black Sun had gone...

He swallowed, hard. Maybe it would have been better if something had eaten me.

Not caring about the rain any longer, he trudged through the damp streets of Iskaayuma, twisting round corners and ducking through alleyways, eventually finding the shelter that was the Black Sun Syndicate. He paused on the threshold for a moment, looking out into the damp streets with a sense of remorse. It was the worst kind of rain - the kind that instantly soaked you upon impact. But it could have been worse. At least out in the rain, he wasn't a dead man. But inside here, who knew?

An angry voice gabbled at him incoherandly, eminating from a slightly insane-looking Rodian advancing across the floor. Tristan didn't understand the words - Rodian was one of the many languages he hadn't gotten round to learning yet. He should probably invest in a protocol droid. I will if I survive this meeting, he vowed.

"Look," he said, peeling the Rodian's hands off the lapelles of his jacket, pushing the plunger-tipped fingers away. "I'm here to see Sorsha Kasajian..."

At the mention of that word, the Rodian froze, and backed away slowly. He gestured, arms waving frantically. Again, Tristan didn't understand the words, but he got the message. This way.

Tristan winced. "This is it," he muttered, following reluctantly behind the Rodian.

Oh frell.

[Rodian Enforcers]

::Tristan was led down a hallway to a large room. The Rodian muttered something behind Tristan's back, threatening in tone as it gave a hearty laugh ::

[Sorsha Kasajian]

:: Sorsha sat at a table with an assembled group of Rodians, and a Nebari female at her right side. She greeted Tristan with a smile, and waved him in to sit ::

[Tristan Tahmores]

That was creepy. An army of Rodians, and a woman that looked more like a cover-girl for Corellia Today than a criminal mastermind. And yet, from the way the Rodian's looked at her, it was clear she was the one in charge. It was as if their lives only continued because she wished it so. And, knowing her reputation, that was probably true in this case.

Trying his hardest to hide his discomfort, Tristan settled down into the nearest vacant chair, and offered a slight smile to those at the table. The Rodian's simply glared back, while the Nebari seemed mildly disinterested. Not going well, Tristan thought to himself, letting the smile die. Doesn't look like I'm getting that protocol droid.

Placing his hands flat on the table, Tristan pulled his wheeled chair in closer, letting it roll to a stop on its own before interlacing his fingers, and resting his elbows on the table. His index fingers steepled, wrists aiming his fingers at Sorsha before snapping off a metaphorical blaster shot. "Miss Kasajian, I assume?"

[Sorsha Kasajian]

"Yes." she replied pleasantly. "I understand you had a little problem."

:: she waved a servant to bring some drinks ::

[Tirsa]

:: Sorsha said no pouncing unless it was necessary, so she was relaxed at the table, one leg folded on top of the other as she sipped her ale. ::

[Tristan Tahmores]

Ah. 'A little problem'. That was one way of putting it. He wasn't sure that little quite covered it: being rumbled by Imperials while running cargo for Black Sun wasn't exactly the best position to be in. Especially when you were at a supposedly secret rendezvous, and the ship you'd been running said cargo to only just made it out in one piece.

But one piece was better than getting vaped, right? Tristan hid his hands under the table, forcing the fists that kept clenching to relax. "That's one way of putting it," he replied, trying his hardest to relax the tension in his voice.

He paused for a beat. "It wasn't my fault," he began. "I went over every inch of my ship afterwards. There's no way they could have tracked me there..."

[Sorsha Kasajian]

:: Sorsha leaned forward ::

"... but they did. If you had to guess, what do you suppose went wrong?"

[Tirsa]

:: The Nebari tried to hide the smile on her face by taking another drink of her ale. This was going to be fun ::

[Tristan Tahmores]

Tristan leaned backwards in his chair, countering Sorsha's motion, his eyes flicking towards the ceiling. He frowned slightly, retrieving the thoughts that had been flying around his head during the sleepless hours spent in Hyperspace on the way here.

"If I had to guess," he began slowly, eyes falling to Sorsha, making a concious effort to avoid the Nebari and her strange, slightly psychotic smile. "They didn't follow me - I jumped through three different systems just to make sure. And stumbling across the meeting by chance is a little...suspect." He held Sorsha's gaze for a moment longer, then shrugged. "If I had to guess, either your boys at the Rendezvous were followed, or -" He paused, ominously. "You have a leak, somewhere."

Tristan's eyes flicked to the Rodians; the Corellian fought the urge to grimace, and instead began to ponder: which one of them was going to kill him first?

[Sorsha Kasajian]

:: Sorsha considered the matter in disturbing silence, unblinking as she looked at him ::