Let the Kids Play

[Za'in]

“Eeh, it’s okay.”

The two sat the door. No one cared to give the pair any attention, which neither of them minded. A blue tinted hue construed the surroundings, the lightings creating a dazzling effect. Chatter mused about the bar, the counter pieced with a variation of species and creeds. Conversation topics ranged from girls to politics, and despite the keen senses there was no way to track every subject matter. A unique blend mixed in the air, as cultures clashed and separated like a tide.

Specific groups segregated themselves as the identifiable differences could be found with only a simple gander. All of it was intriguing from an observant eye, but the two dulled their scrutinty for an exchange of enjoyment.

The bartender stood as the sole greeter. A simple, gruff glance and forced smile embraced the two as they leaned against the counter. The place was quite different from the other spots that the duo had mingled at, but they played ignorant. The entire flock of faulty disturbances was disregarded as the young human boy leaped into conversation. Music eased the crowd ahead, an audience forming as the charm of a singer spoiled them with her tune.

“Well, I think I’ll play this time.” The drawl carried a smooth slur that was natural for the youth. A casual, nonchalance howled from his posture to gait, and it was evident in his unruly locks. The brown clump dangled in all ways, finding its place to cascade over his brow as he peer at the stage. No one seemed interested in him, making the objective all the more intimidating.

“Whateva. Itsa whateva,” the Gungan the replied. The pair was a unique duo indeed. Their ages weren’t comparable, races far different and style on two different tracks.

[Raurn Tarplas]

Raurn was old. Not real old, but old enough to keep focus...at least when something was interesting. Before Za'in could let out another word, Raurn had turned about to the bartender.

The Gungan never liked to drink, especially heavily, but he didn't know how the kid played. Once upon a time Raurn had been in a band back in Theed city, leaving little room for failure on his friends part.

He was honest, and he would tell him how much he sucked.

"Gimme some Zadarian Brandy."

[Lynrii]

"Back in towns?"

The voice eased into the Gungan's ear on his side. Lynrii had become fond of Cloud City, and more so Cloud Nine. Albeit the place was fester with a seedy youth, the elder could find time to smile in the trivial and devious affairs. Amidst the profusion the Trianii had developed into a fine patron, renown amongst the locals as a kind face. Few couldn't find a decent conversation with the aging Trianii.

Experience fleshed his sentences out, even in his deep accent emerged an aged drawl. The Galaxy had touched him with rough and soft hands, leaving him with a stretch of stories and wisdom. There was so few he was unwilling to talk to, but he could call so few friends as well.

Raurn was one of those few. They were business partners too..

"When wassss the lasss' time we all worked?" He asked, his hand lifting to the bartender. There was no need for much of a gesture, the tender knew what his normals wanted.

[Araib Musbunig]

Months had passed, and Araib couldn't get rid of that itch on his back. The Doctor had mistaken it for a rash, but he was certain it wasn't. After a quick backtrack, he remember the little surgery he had after a swoop crash. A little analyzing realized it as an latent affect, but he denied any assistance beyond a woman's massage.

Plus, he was too busy to buy a back scratcher.

Time had lent him some downtime. Cloud Nine was another place to roam, especially with it landing on Bespin. Cloud City was a diverse population, and a Twi'lek could blend well amongst the bunches. Although the Twi'lek were a renown, and common race amongst the galaxy's population - there were plenty of places that demoralized the species as a meaningless servitude type.

He didn't prefer to be in those places.

He liked being...liked. Cloud Nine liked him, or at least the girls there did. So, he stood off near a table conversation. The girls on the planet were a bit more...open, or revealing for that matter.

Araib didn't find anything wrong with it, but he was waiting for the next performance. The girls were talking about some silly Jaarn Tii guy who's career had went astray and been put into a jail on some far off planet. Rumors always were spreading around, Araib had even heard he had died back on Coruscant a few months back from a friend.

It was so funny how things spread...

"I'll go and get you two some new drinks, aye?"

[Za'in]

Flush

Za'in had found himself in the refresher a lot, lately. Cloud Nine was anything but heavenly for his stomach, and anytime he even thought of gracing the stage his stomach acted up. He could be found bent over, face into the toilet letting a few chunks drop from his open mouth.

He hated being nervous. Nobody liked it, but he absolutely hated it.

"Frag! I'm going to do it this time. I got it --"

Flush...

[Za'in]

ghostwritten rhyme from a chump, word up.

[Raurn Tarplas]

"It's sho been a wiles, aye?"

The old Gungan watched the drinks come. A quick swipe, and his tongue was leaking in the cup. The smooth, yet stingy drink dripped down his throat as he glanced off to the side. Za'in had already disappeared to the refresher, as usual, but his mind was more keen to the other familiar face.

"Hey Araib, ova' ere!"

[Lynrii]

A pleasant grunt surged the elderly Trianii. Lynrii hadn't expected it to unfold so easily, but he was eased by the disarming change of events. The bunch had been pushed back together with destined perfection. It was a bit nostalgic how it all molded together.

He could remember the days when the foursome had handled a few jobs, but it was interesting how Raurn had played a warm face for most of the crew. The Gungan had always been known for his warmth, despite his rough edges, even back when Lynrii first met him in the Xizor Company.

"Hey! Sssso, I was sayin' bout a job..."

[Araib Musbunig]

"Lynrii, Raurn...where is the kid?"

[Za'in]

"Bringing to the stage! Za'in!"

The curtains didn't need to be pulled back, he wasn't that special. The standing ovation was silent, no one knew who he was. Za'in was simply another name amongst the crowd, although a bit awkward one, but still all the same. A few patrons even were annoyed by the chance of a new face on stage; becoming all too familiar with the beautiful women that paraded the entertainment lounge with their equally beautiful voices.

Za'in wasn't beautiful, he was just a normal young guy with a bit of talent in his lungs and hands.

In a slow trot, he graced the spotlight with a corky smirk and nervous eyes. Nobody seemed to embrace him beside the few ladies he had encounter in his occasionally visits; for some reason they seemed to like him. There was little room for self-confidence with an utterly silent crowd, but he allowed the band to back him before he took his faithful entrance.

A smooth, but quiet mumble trumpeted from the right, while a theoretic word chanted from the omni-box behind. The melody was mellow, calm and blue, settled, but completely unprepared for the careful touch of Za'in's artistic hands. In a heap of higher volume, slightly faster pace and the becoming of a Za'in's slither horn he manifested with soul snatching instrumental.

The band jammed with a harmonic and melodic bliss, intertwined for an emotional drag with rhythm sections perfecting a genuine glee amidst the saddened undertones blared by the omni box and trumpets.

Za'in was playing it cool at the forefront as he pushed in his sequence, his eyes closed and body swaying to the otherworldly lift. Seconds before he was on nerves, but now...now he felt good.

[Raurn Tarplas]

A smile perched on his lips as the songs eased through his ears. One quick glance over his shoulder signaled at the stage across the room, his lips parted to show that he was all too pleased.

"Hesa up there, see?"

[Lynrii]

Lynrii was old, he didn't like interruptions. Even though the music was nice, real nice, he wanted to talk about this job.

"Blah! The kid can playssss, but whateva..."

Before another stubborn word could dance on his foreign tongue, he jugged down his drink and called for another one. He was getting a bit irritated, but he played it cool. The music provided the necessary support to tranquilize all his annoyances anyways.

[Araib Musbunig]

"I see."

Araib forgot about the girls. They were getting boring, plus, he was interested in what old Lynrii had to say. Za'in was on stage, but he didn't have time to wait.

"What were yall talkin' bout before I came over, though?"

[Lynrii]

"A jobss, boy."

Not an eye was given to the Twi'lek, the Trianii was too focused on his drink. One more gulp, and he felt the sting - but he was fine. Another order was sent, glancing over as he waited.

"A good job."

[Raurn Tarplas]

"Really," the Gungan replied, his attention being brought back to the counter. In on an attentive swing, he turned his head back to the Trianii as he began to probe.

"Fromea whos?"

[Lynrii]

The Trianii turned his back to the counter only moments before the waiter came back with his drink. All of a sudden, with the two pilots pulled into the conversation, he wasn't so interested in drinking.

"Wellssss, I stumbled over lil ship back on Lokssss. Got a few packets and contacts...tryin to get involved in somethin' big 'ere and seein if ya want to tag a longssss."

[Raurn Tarplas]

"Itsa s'pose to be that simple?"

[Araib Musbunig]

"Man, this is Lynrii! Its fine."

A smile grew on the Twi'leks lips. His pockets weren't absent of a bump, and creditchip had all the necessary funds - but he was greedy. Lynrii was there to help, always, and he was wondering when the gang could get back together and make some creds.

[Lynrii]

"Wellssss I'll get into the info back at the rrrrrrrooooom. I rrrremember the place - sssssee ya there."

One step, and he was off. Lynrii knew the place quite well, and had hung around everybody that was a patron, leaving him enough people to involve with.

[Raurn Tarplas]

A grunt escaped from his mouth as he watched the Trianii march off. "Whateva..."

[Araib Musbunig]

"Dont worry. It'll be cool. Just enjoy the show, aye?"

[Za'in]

The melody beckon his attention, and his mouth. One smooth output blare his horn in harmony, lulling the rhythm to a lengthy separation. Eyes glare at the stage, amazement budding at the door as a few newcomers listened in. Few were astonished by the music's soothing touch, especially in a fine establishment stationed in Cloud City, but the stage manager was quite young.

Za'in's face was marked without time, only battle. The slight scars that graced his face were slices, thin and left a horrific beauty to compliment his naturally subtle and handsome features. The long lashes on his exotic eyes dazzled his youthful face in a feminine way that nearly offshoot his masculine jawline. All the petite and button-small tightness of his traits melded nicely with his athletic, v-shaped built.

He didn't have exactly wide shoulders, but he seemed to gain power from the core of his stomach as his seemingly lanky body was noticed by the keen eye as a trained sculpture powered by the abdomen. The biology of the body was manufactured for presence, and he explored music with the strength and prowess of his lungs in ways that exceeded his years.

"This kid's only 17?"

A whisper edged from behind the omni-box player. Nobody knew exactly his age, but he was young...and young people dont get on stage and blare horns as well as Za'in.

All he did was smile. He felt good up there - real good.

[Za'in]

Later

The sounds echoed through his head. A conjunction of rhythm, tone and vibration eased over his body as he slunk through the halls behind the pack. The chill from the vents swept along his body, but the warmth from the stage had not cooled. All the heat from enticed eyes was something no artifical air could undo. The smile that had been pasted to his face had only grown subtle, instead of broad, leaving him to thumb at his thoughts alone.

The crew....

A bunch of weirdos to say the least. Water dwellers, cats and lekku-heads were not a normal grouping at the least, and topping it off with a human didn't balance the equation out at all. The trouble did not reside in the awkward friends, but the business they handled together. A rag-tag crew of flunkies, the innovative minds combined to produce ingenius, but meager deals fit for exploition. One common thread that weaved amongst them all was a desire for credit, and it kept them knit together so tight a Naboo nat couldn't fly through.

A silence was also shared by them as they walked the halls. The corridor lead to a shipment, and a vessel meant for travel. A lot of planning had been handled, with the exemption of Za'in's input, but everyone understood the circumstances. Basically, a smuggling operation was going to be thwarted for the betterment of the gang. Instead of a shipment finding it's way into the hands of the expected owners, a higher bidder was going to catch the load and a nice smile without questions. The illicit trafficking was going to be intermeddled into plantery law differences, leaving the illegal into valid merchandise. The system was being used to protect the crew in face of expected perils, and it sounded almost too sweet to be true.

Za'in had no doubts, all he did was hear his music.

Raurn eyes were on the prize.

Araib questioned the possibility of going about it smoothly

Lynrii didn't say a word, no one knew what he thought.

One scan of the bunch as the landing bay doors unlatched and open would conclude they looked as confindent as ever. The next step, however, was a work of the history books. Not a word was heard, nor a sound chirped as the door closed behind them. The time had come as schedule, as there was only one guard in sight.

If somebody could call a connect a guard...