Rangers and dealers (Sasseeri Reeouurra)

[Clive Jerrard]

Continued from: Scoundrel on the loose (http://pub2.ezboard.com/fswvstitanicstarwarsroleplayingarchive.showMessage Range?topicID=3265.topic&start=1&stop=20)

(Clive once again pulled out the information cylinder Sasseeri's henchman had given him, and turned it slowly in his right hand. He already knew what the message said, so he didn't bother reading it again. It'd only been two days since he'd received it, and on the second day, or rather night, he'd run into Sasseeri herself. She'd seemed rather annoyed he hadn't contacted her or the Sector Rangers, but he was afterall a business man, and he had an obligation to deal with his costumers needs. First come, first serve. But, now that he'd finished with that, he had time to see about this little problem, whatever it might be.)

(Looking through the public directory, he called up the number for the Sector Rangers headquarters. Might as well make an appointment. He punched in the number on his comm station. A female voice greeted him.)

Sector Rangers: Sector Rangers headquarters. This is Nyarna, how may I assist you?

(Clive responded.)

Yes, this is Clive Jerrard. I was given a notice by the director of the Sector Rangers to come in and see her about my business. I was calling to make an appointment.

Nyarna: One moment please...

(Clive waited patiently as the operator went to work assessing when the meeting would take place.)

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Her comm pinged loudly just when she was about to leave her office.

What now??? Krasst, she should know better than to let calls through at this hour!

Sasseeri sat down once again in her chair, her left arm slipping into the overcoat she'd been about to put on. Her right hand reached out and activated her com console.

"What jis jit?"

Nyarna's voice sounded a little frightened as it came over the line, and she'd have good reason for if this wasn't in any way important.

"There's a Mr Jerrard for you about an appointment, Miss Reeouurra? He sounded like this was important, and--"

Sasseeri muted the comm.

Jerrard? Damnation, did he have to pick a time like this to come to her??? She needed to get back to her apartment... back to Sanis - if he was still there. There was no time for small fry such as Jerrard and his little puny business now.

She sighed. Well, at least she should find out what he wanted. Switching the comm back on, she told Nyarna to put Jerrard on the line.

A crackle went through the line. She took that as a sign that the connection had switched, and went straight to the point.

"Mr Jerrard - how can jI help you?"

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive was looking through some data files when Nyarna came back on the line.)

Nyarna: Mr. Jerrard? I'm switching you over to Miss Reeouurra now.

(Clive waited a moment and then heard the melodious purr of Miss Reeouurra. He sat up straighter as he spoke, all business and gentleman.)

Good afternoon, Miss Reeouurra. Forgive me if I have disturbed you in any way. I was only calling to make an appointment with you concerning the message you sent me. I would think it best if we resolved this matter as soon as possible. Also, I wanted to inform one of your staff, he never gave me his name, that his shipment of items he ordered has arrived.

(Clive really liked the sound of her voice and hoped she'd say more. But, he didn't think it business-like to compliment her on her voice. Well, not yet anyways. Hell, they hadn't even been properly introduced. He frowned. Oh, the joys of formality.)

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Then it came back to her. Ah yes... the message - how could she have forgotten about that? It had been only yesterday in that rotten hole of a bar that she'd brought up the subject with him.

It already seemed such a long time ago.

Feeling a slight headache coming up, she massaged her eyebrow with one claw, and replied.

"Mjisterrr Jerrrrrrarrrd - can jI call you Cljive? - Cljive, maybe jit jis best jif we werrre to meet somewherrre prrrjivate? jI want to see thjis matterrr rrresolved qujickly."

She hesitated for a moment, not really wishing to have to spend more time with business tonight, but she wanted to get this over with. The sooner, the better.

"Cljive, you know a ljittle tapcaf up on 65465ST-17L-12SC? Can you meet me therrre jin thrrree hourrrs tjime?"

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive smiled. Yeah, he knew the little cafe. He'd been there only once, but he loved the food there. Oh, and that voice! He composed himself.)

Of course you may call me Clive, Miss Reeouurra. And yes, I do know that cafe. And three hours is perfect. I will see you then?

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She sighed. Well, at least that part was done.

"Perrrfect then. We wjill meet therrre."

She abruptly shut the comm system off before he could say any more, and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples.

Oh well, there was no way out of it. She'd have to drag her work even into the night.

Sighing again, she finally slipped into her coat, got out of her chair, and left the office.


(OOC) sorry for short replies - I'm blaming it on the large quantities of alcohol. Damn the Irish for inventing St Patrick's day and green-colored beer..

[Clive Jerrard]

OOC: It's ok. Small posts are better than nothing. BTW, Happy St. Patrick's Day.


IC:

(Clive flipped off his comm. Good. The appointment had been made. Perfect. The sooner this was done, the better.)

(He stood, stretching and walked to his room in the apartment above the shop. He passed Raunkks on the way up. The large reptile gave him that toothy grin of his and continued his task of inventory. He reached his room and put on a fresh set of clothing, nicely pressed and expensive. He brushed his bantha hide jacket a few times with his hand, and placed it on, straightening the collar. He looked at himself in the mirror. Not bad, not bad. He ran a hand through his hair. It sprang into it's usual look; a look that meant business with a casual scoundrel look to it. He smiled and straightened his eyepatch out, then headed back downstairs to the shop.)

(Stooping to get a small basket from under the front desk, he addressed Raunnks.)

I'll be going to see Miss Reeouurra at the tapcaf up on 65465ST-17L-12SC. Hold the fort while I'm gone.

(Raunkks huffed, then looked Clive up and down, chuckling.)

Hey! It's a business dealing. I have to look my best.

(Raunkks then eyed the small basket silently.)

Ok, so I might be trying to sweeten the deal with a gentleman's touch.

(This time Raunkks blurted into a full out laugh. Clive just glared at him with his one eye walking out the shop. He called over his shoulder.)

Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, scale-face.

(The laughter got harder as Clive turned towards the stairway that would take him to the garage that held his speeder. He smiled. Raunkks may be rough on the edges, but he had a sense of humor. Shrugging, he jumped in his speeder and made for the small cafe.)

[Domini Leveresk]

Seated behind a pristine desk in a spacious room on Coruscant, Domini flicked off the bug. Resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, he swiveled it around to face the window and strummed his fingers together.

"Secretary? Cue up Clive Jerrard's file onto my datapad."

Without response, she pulled together all files with info on him: The Empire, CSA, Bothan Spynet, New Republic... With a quick glance, Domini could see the man was up to no good. A gunrunner, eh?

"Secretary, send up Cheif of Security Grenar."

A few minutes later, the door swooshed open. "You called, sir?" Domini swelled with pride. It had only been recently that he had overtaken his former surperior. Though Grenar was doing quite well as the Cheif of TSR Security. "Yes, I did. Miss Reeouurra is meeting with a gunrunner in the Blue Tooth at 65465ST-17L-12SC. See she gets the proper protection. Though she doesn't need to know that..."

"The bartender's one of ours, sir. As for protection- I'm thinkings a Stormtroopers motif?"

"Whatever it takes. Just see to it."

"One more things. Don't you think she'll realize her rooms is bugged if we carry through? The bartender's in her divisions..."

"I've factored it, Grenar. Frankly, Miss Reeouurra does not have the liberty of finding fault."

"Yes sirs."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She looked outside, saw the rain pouring down in sheets, and summoned her driver to bring the speeder around. This was really not acceptable. Something would have to be arranged with Coruscant weather control - more than 6 days of rain at one time was really overdoing things a bit.

At times like these she regretted never having had the patience to learn piloting. It was not that she was unable to pilot - although some people back on her homeplanet would try to deny that, remembering a rather unfortunate episode involving a very young Sasseeri and a swoop bike - no, it was simply that she was too impatient to want to bother herself with all the buttons and levers and whatnot that made a ship or speeder move.

It would have been very much better if she could drive her own speeder, to go to a meeting like this - or for situations like last night's.

The silver landspeeder with the green-tinted transparisteel screens came splashing through the rain, its engine noise almost drowned out by the rain. The Service droid at the exit of the Sector Rangers Arkanis Sector Embassy walked towards the speeder to hold open the door, and Sasseeri climbed in without a word. She wasn't going to waste gratitude on a droid - she hated droids almost as much as Rodians.

Sasseeri wished nothing better than to return to her apartment, and to Sanis, but there were things she would have to organise, business she would have to look after, before the meeting.

The barkeep of the Blue Tooth was one of her people, and he was long overdue with a report. This would be as good a time as any to find out what the frell he thought he was doing. No, she didn't doubt that she'd be kept busy until Jerrard would arrive.

It didn't take long to get to the 65465 street on 17th level. The rain wasn't any less further down in the city, apparently, either, and this time there was no service droid watching over potential customers at the entrance of the tapcaf. So Sasseeri activated the lock herself, opened the door of the speeder, climbed out, then ran as fast as her high heeled shoes would allow her, to the entrance.

It was enough to make her soaking wet. And very very pissed off.

[Clive Jerrard]

(It was a heavy downpour outside. The wipers for the speeder were going strong as Clive drove his new red XKL-57 speeder to the cafe. He'd only just recently bought it, and was quite proud of it. He finally pulled up to the cafe and parked his speeder on the curb, or what could be considered a curb on Coruscant. He was still a bit early, so he remained in his speeder, fixing the items he had brought with him and arranging them in the basket.)

[Boli Tannda]

Boli Tannda finished wiping down another glass, hanging it over the bar. Damn rain, it was murder on business. Everybody simply stayed home, and nobody felt like coming to have a drink. He could use the time he had on his hands to try and make heads or tails of the account reports that the Sector Rangers had been harassing him over, but Boli loathed having to sit down to the tedious reports. They wanted to know where every fraction of a credit was going in this joint, but they never seemed to understand that running a bar was such a delicate matter. Thinking about having to sit down in that cramped office and fill out more prying documents made Boli's hands shake slightly. His job was enjoyable enough...as long as he could shake off the bureaucracy.

Thus, when Boli reached for another glass to clean, his heart skipped a beat when he saw who was standing in the rain-soaked doorway of his bar. Probably the last person he wanted to see that day.

Uh..H-Hello....Miss Reeouurra.

Oh frack! Today was going to be awful!

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She shook some of the rain out of her hair while standing in the doorway, overlooking the sparsely visited tapcafe. Only three tables were occupied, the rest stood empty and deserted, while extremely monotone music came out of the sound system hidden in the wall panels. All in all, it wasn't very inviting.

As she strode purposefully to the bar, she tried to remember the name of the unfortunate barkeep. Tannba... Tannda... something like that.

He'd already addressed her, but she'd not thought it necessary to reply. Now seeing him squirm under her nose was much more satisfying, especially when she was in a mood like this.

Boli... Boli Tannda. That was his name. And he was almost 4 weeks behind in reports.

"Bolji... why have jI not rrrecejived any worrrd frrrom you about thjis mjiserrrable dump?"

[Boli Tannda]

The shaking in Boli's hands increased. He did not need this kind of stress right now. He knew that the Rangers were important, and he needed the reports to be done, but it was almost an impossible chore. It always seemed to take forever, with plenty of room for error.

Now with Sasseeri Reeouurra staring daggers at him, he felt backed into a corner. Unable to move, unable to protest...he was absolutely at her whim. Now, he severely wished he had taken the time to fill out the reports, but he knew he would have a thousand migraines over it all over again. So, he simply prepared to take whatever tongue-lashing was in store for him.

I, uh...well, Miss Reeouurra...we've just had some t-things come up, I suppose.

I'll g-get to work on those...as soon as possible, I assure you.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

At the blink of an eye, she leaned forward over the bar, and grabbed the timid barkeeper by the throat, raised him up in the air and left him dangling there as she hissed at him.

"Well, now you have some otherrr thjings comjing up - me. And jI can tell you, thjis thjing is much morrre jimporrrtant than any of the otherrr thjings."

She dropped him, as his eyes were about to glaze over. He didn't quite fall down flat on the ground, but wasn't too far away from it as his legs didn't seem to support him any longer. She waited until he had somehow gotten himself back to a standing position, then pointed one clawed finger at him.

"Tell you what - jI have some busjiness to do herrre in the next few hourrrs. Why don't you prrreparrre my usual rrroom, have everrrythjing brrrought to me that jI need, and then do those rrreporrrts forrr me? jIf jI have to, jI wjill get one of my men to come down herrre and help you out wjith them, but jI can assurrre you that you don't want that to happen."

[Boli Tannda]

Boli felt like he was going to pass out. At first, it was from the lack of oxygen reaching his brain, as Sasseeri hefted him off the ground by his throat. That was pleasant compared to the frantic paranoia he now felt, as he knew he had to prepare the reports, in a few hours!

Boli gulped painfully, feeling at his bruised throat. He'd seen Miss Reeouurra when she was angry, and now the first-person effect was staring him in the face. It terrified him immensely.

Almost hyperventalating, Boli quickly took his blood pressure medication, his aged and shaking hands opening the bottle as best as he could. Taking two pills, he capped it up.

I'll...get you r-room set up, Miss Reeouurra. I-I promise. And...I'll have th-the reports, too!

Boli quickly ran off towards the back room, stopped in his tracks, and ran back. Oh my...he had forgotten.

Uh...Miss Reeouurra, c-can I get you...something to drink?

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She stared after him, angrily, then watched as he stopped in his tracks and crept back to ask her for the drink she had been hoping for.

"jI'll have a Kalsanjic Sunset, please."

She walks over to a table while waiting, sits down and crosses her legs, then takes out her nicteen holder, and lights up a small thin nicteen cigara.

Blue smoke filters through the air.

[Boli Tannda]

Boli tries to calm himself down, his blood pressure medication taking effect somewhat, causing the shaking in his hands to lessen. He quickly begins to mix Sasseeri's drink while she waits, taking great pains not to anger her again.

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive finished organizing the basket. Looking in the rear view mirror of his speeder, he fixed the colar of his bantha hide jacket. Taking the basket, he left his speeder and entered the cafe. Looking around inside, he spotted a beautiful woman sitting alone at a table. He smiled that scoundrel-smile of his, and strode to the table.)

(When he got there, the woman was already looking at him. He remained smiling and bowed slightly.)

Miss Reeouurra. It's a pleasure to meet you again. May I join you?

(He knew she knew he was there for a meeting with her. But when dealing with ladies of such a high caliber, it was always a good thing to be gentlemanly and polite.)

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She raised an eyebrow at his greeting. This male certainly had more than just good looks - he also had manners. Curiously she looked at the basket he held in his hand, while gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Of courrrse you may. That jis, afterrr all, what you have come herrre forrr. Although jI have a differrrent rrroom prrreparrredfor us, jin whjich jit wjill be morrre apprrroprrrjiate to talk about busjiness."

She looked over him appraisingly, reminding herself that this was truly only business. And that she couldn't stay too long - Sanis might still be waiting. But the temptation that Clive presented, stayed no less real.

Oh well, she'd have to see how things would develop.

Casting an eye into the direction the barkeep had taken after bringing her the drink, she saw him standing at the entrance to the room she had required. It was prepared, then.

"jIf you would please follow me, Cljive?"

She grabbed her bag and her nicteen holder, and walked slowly over to the room.

[Grenar the Mon Cal]

*Four men sat at a table, playing Sabaac. Next to them, an empty booth.. But soon, two prestigious people would be sitting there.

Each had absolutely no bulge above their breasts, where their armpit holsters held projectile weapons. The projectiles boasted venom tips, garunteed to knock even a force capable out withing a matter of seconds.

They observed silently, trading chips and gambling more as their gameplay continued.*

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive followed Sasseeri towards the room she had indicated. Sliding slightly ahead of her, he took hold of the door the barkeep was holding open, now holding for her. He smiled as she passed by and then walked in after her, letting the door close softly of it's own accord. He watched as she walked towards the table in the center of the room. Walking briskly, he pulled the chair out for her, letting her sit, and slid it in gently. Then he went to the other side and seated himself as well. He placed the small basket on the table and looked at the beautiful woman sitting across from him.)

(He had to keep reminding himself this was strictly business. But, there was never any hamr in acting the part of a gentleman in such proceedings. Even being a bit of a romantic. But, still, all was for business. And what was in the basket was to soften the mood of the business dealings so they would not be tense in any way for both parties involved. He held the smile and spoke to Sasserri.)

I thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Miss Reeouurra. I know you have a busy schedule, but I did feel this matter you brought to my attention should be dealt with as soon as was possible.

(He knew she'd heard what he said, but he found her looking at the basket curiously. He let his eye wonder there for a moment, and then back to her face. He started wondering if she'd ask about it, or if he'd just have to jump in and present what goodies were in the basket.)

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She was glad that Clive was behind her as she walked through the door, for the surprise she felt at seeing the room already occupied by the four men didn't stay off her face. Somehow they looked familiar. Too familiar. Too much like Grenar's guys.

Whoever they were, she was certain they had some kind of business being here, and whatever that was... it wasn't good.

She forced a smile on her face as she nodded at them almost imperceptibly. When Clive jumped ahead and held her chair out for her, she sat down with the same smile pasted on her face, while feeling worse than she had ever before.

There are three possibilities: One - They're after Clive and are using me to get at him. Two - They're here to make sure that everything goes as planned, and acting as eyes and ears for Grenar. Three - They're after me.

Krasst! Damn, frackin', kriffin' krasst!!! What's Grenar thinking sending his boys after me???!?

Paranoia took over. Suddenly that basket Clive had put in the center of the table took on a new meaning. She heard him say something, but didn't really take notice of his words.

What if he also was here for some other reason? Had he known that they wouldn't be alone? Was he after her, or after Grenar's men? What game was he playing?

The basket... what's in the basket?

At that moment, the unfortunate barkeep approached the table again, wringing his hands nervously, asking what he could bring them for refreshments.

Sasseeri's eyes darted back and forth from the basket, the men and Clive for a moment, then settled on the barkeep. She was suspicious now - had his previous humble manner just been some sort of foul game to distract her? He obviously had to be in with Grenar's men - probably is one of his spies or something! - so what if... what if...

Suddenly a terrible suspicion hit her. This was all part of some terrible conspiracy against her! They were all working together - all of them!

Her mind was doing over-time.

Yeah.. let's see... the barkeep deliberately didn't report so there would be a reason for me to come and get angry. They hired Clive to... to... to provide me with a good opportunity to have one of the business talks they know I like to have in places I own. Yes! They knew I would come here! They knew it! It's all a plot, all to get me. Me. MeMeMeMeMEE! Not Clive. Me!

Her eyes were the only thing that betrayed what was going on in her mind, but her voice had a certain forced calmness as she told the barkeep to just go and get her a refill of her previous drink.

Then she turned and looked somewhat blankly at Clive. All of a sudden, it felt like someone had taken all wind out of her sails. What had she come here to do again? Oh yeah - his weapons shop.

Keeping a nervous eye on the four men at the games table and the basket and Clive, she started rattling off her usual speech about the Sector Ranger's efforts in crime prevention and so forth.

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive watched Sasseeri after they'd sat a the table. His enhanced eye behind the one way plastic eye patch caught the hint of her core body tempature rising with a hint of fresh adrenaline running through her. Something had alarmed her. Non-chantly, he looked over the the four men seated in the room, nodding his head once in a friendly gesture. He didn't recognize any of them through his contacts or past job. That was a good sign, but at the same time bad. He watched her eyes darting nervously. He kept his face passive, but his head was passing thoughts a kilometer a minute. What on earth had caused her to act this way? He was at a loss and could only surmise the four men in the room had come as a surprise to her.)

(At that moment the barkeep came in and asked if they wanted anything to drink. Clive was about to say what he would like, when Sasserri jumped in, ordering the drinks. He kept the smile on his face, and looked at her as she turned back in his diestion. He knew at this point she was quite curious about the basket, especially the way she kept looking at it.)

(She began to speak what sounded like a rehearsed line about the Sector Rangers and crime prevention and so on and so on. Clive waited patiently, listening to every word she spoke. By now, the barkeep had returned with their drinks. He took a sip of his and set the glass down as she finished. He smiled, and looked at her.)

Well, Miss Reeouurra. I hope these talks are beneficial for both of our respective businesses. And to show my good intentions, I brought you some gifts.

(He reached for the basket and saw her visibly tense. Damn, she was jumpy. He slowly brought the golden basket closer to himself and slowly lifted the silk hankerchief laid over the top, conceiling the contents. He made each move slowly so as not to alarm her any more than she was already. He brought out three items, each wrapped in a different colored silk hankerchief. He laid them out before her and smiled.)

(Reaching for the first item, he unwrapped it, revealing an antique, wooden PEN with inlaid gold.)

This antique pen is to sign whatever agreement we come to concerning my continued business.

(He let her pick it up and marvel at it for awhile. Ink pens were hard to find, especially wooden ones with inlaid gold.)

(He reached for the second item and unwrapped it, revealing a small, crystal bottle of wine.)

This wine is a fruity mixture imported from the gardens of Ithor, known to have a different fruity taste each time it is sipped. It will provide the toast to the signed agreement.

(He was taking a guess that she liked fruity wines, and hoped by the Core she approved of it's flavor.)

(Reaching for the last item, he unwrapped it, revealing an antique Corellian blaster, gold barrel and smooth-finish ivory handle. He saw her tense again, but quickly spoke to put her at ease.)

And this, dear lady, is for you to use against me if I am not able to reach an agreement with such a lovely creature as yourself.

(He gave her that roguish smile again and let her look and touch the gifts. So what if he was a bit of a romantic. In business talks, being a gentleman and romantic always made the talks and agreements go much smoother.)

[Moranda Savich]

<Frell this stupid rain! Why's this planet always have to be so damn wet? You'd think there were enough rich people here to have the weather fixed their own way - and there can't be that many MonCals on this planet to account for the bloody damn rain!>

Grumbling, Moranda walked into the first door she reached, just as another downpour threatened to soak her even to her underclothes.

It was a tapcaf of some sort, and it wasn't particularly busy. Flashy decor - annoying music; that kind of thing. There wasn't any sign of the barkeep, but she saw a bottle of her favorite standing on the shelf behind the bar, and that was a good sign.

Taking her dripping wet overcoat off and draping it over one of the stools, she sat down on another one at the bar and waited for the barkeep to show up.

This day maybe wasn't going to be bad after all.

What with the stormy landing and all, she'd almost regretted thinking of Coruscant as her newest refuge from the damn CorSec and Intel types still after her. She'd figured that on a planet as heavily populated as this, even if she was right at the doorstep of Intel, she'd have a better chance to keep hidden. Now she could only hope that it would work.

There still wasn't any sign of the barkeep after 5 minutes. She looked around, impatiently, then stared at the bottle of Gralish Liqueur that was so promising, trying to see how much was left in it. She hoped it was still full, but the blue glass didn't show much.

Anoher 5 minutes passed.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

As she was giving him the brief speech on crime precention, there was nothing more that she wanted than getting out of this place. Grenar's goons, and whatever they had hired Clive for, it was a situation she'd never get out of alive.

A few minutes into her speech, listening to her own voice drone on and on, she regained some of her equilibrium. This just wasn't good - there was no need to panic... there would always be a way to talk herself out of anything they would be trying to put on her. Unless they would just go in and do what they'd come for without giving her a chance. They wouldn't - would they?

Then she was done, and her eyes fixed on Clive with a peculiar hardness. Somehow, she felt as if he was the one in charge, as if he was who the goons were answering to.

Well, and why not? That would be just like Grenar...

The one-eyed man on the other side of the table reached for the basket, and Sasseeri's entire body tensed.

This is it... this is it... whatever's in that thing, it's going to be the end of me...

Instead, she watched in incomprehension as he took out three objects wrapped in silky material and put them on the table in front of her.

What the krasst is this?

She watched every move of his, the four goons at the other table momentarily forgotten, as his hands began unwrapping the three objects.

A pen. At first sight, she expected some sort of contraption to fly at her, stabbing her, but it looked like an ordinary pen. No, not an ordinary pen, she thought, as her eyes took on a strange glimmer - a pen with gold in it, as she could feel when she touched it.

She raised an eyebrow at his words.

The he unwrapped the second object, and a bottle was revealed. It looked like one of the expensive wines from Chandrila she liked so much, but Clive said it was an Ithorian one.

She raised her other eyebrow. Ithorian wines were exceedingly expensive. If there wasn't some well-disguised poison mix in there instead, then this man had to have more money than she had thought.

She nearly fell backwards of her chair as she saw what the third object was, expecting him to raise it at her head and shoot her with it, but instead she somehow kept her poise on the chair, and instead dug her claws into the soft wood of the chair's armrests.

Again, he simply laid the gift on the table in front of her.

Along with his smooth-talk, and the oily attitude, this was just too much to be faked. Why bother with all this gift-business if all he had been sent here was to get rid of her, or do something else equally nasty to her? No... somehow, she didn't buy it. Maybe he really was honest - well, as honest as a weapons dealer on Coruscant would get.

Which left the matter of the goons. That they were sent by Grenar, was almost certain. Who else would have access to the same room? So who were they after - Jerrard or herself? Or were they simply there to observe?

Suddenly, Sasseeri decided that she had had enough of this paranoid behaviour - let goons be goons, no matter who sent them, or what they wanted; if they hadn't shot her by now, there was a good chance they weren't planning on doing so in the near future. This was strictly business, and she had exactly that ahead of her.

She relaxed on her chair, leaning back, fixing him with a smile that was almost as slippery as his.

"Thank you verrry much, Cljive - jI must say, thjis jis unprrrecedented jindeed. jI apprrrecjiate thjis gesturrre, and jI am surrre we can make full use of each of them."

Her eyes swept over the three objects again, to come to rest on the blaster just as she finished talking. With her hand, she called up a pre-written contract on her datapad, and then looked around.

If he wanted to use that pen, they'd better find something else to write upon than a datapad...

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive watched her reaction to each gift almost with amusement. She seemed to tense more and more as he unwrapped each one. Goodness, either she was naturally high strung or she'd better lay off the coffiene. His mechanical eye hidden behind the eyepatch told him her body temprature had leveled out, but was still quite high. Well, maybe she was starting to see he wasn't a threat. But it was still high.)

(Again he glanced at the men at the other table. Frowning slightly, he looked at one in particular. Damn, but he looked familiar. If only he could pinpoint his fa-- He nearly fell out of his own chair, but kept his cool outwardly. He looked back at Sasseeri as she produced a data pad. Smiling, he gently reached for the data pad, looking over the contract, all while his thoughts ran amuck. That one guy... he... well, Clive had seen him quite a few years back while he had still been a Space Pirate along the Corellian Trade Route. How could he forget that face. It belonged to the same man that had almost foiled a pirating raid he had put together. But, he'd been working for a rival pirate of Clive's at the time. Goodness only knew what shady business he was in now. Well, after recognizing that face, he certainly didn't trust the others. Now it was his turn to get just a wee bit tense.)

(He looked up at Sasseeri momentarily and went back to studying the pad. Was she setting him up or something? Nah, couldn't be. She was showing signs of not liking those guys over there as much as he was. No, something esle was afoot here. Clive so wished he knew what it was... he hated surprises.)


OOC: Uh, you want to let me know what's on the data pad?

[Clive Jerrard]

OOC: TTT. Yoohoo. Sasseeri... did you drop off the face of the universe?

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

OOC: Sorry... getting to it tomorrow.

[Clive Jerrard]

OOC: (Sets up a small camp fire, turns off the lights, sits on a log, turns on a recording of crickets and night russling, whips out his harmonica, and begins playing a slow, melodious tune.)

(Keeps playing, waiting patiently.)

(And playing somemore.:p )

[Boli Tannda]

Boli returned from the back room, and once he was out of sight from Sasseeri or her associates, he leaned against the wall, sighing loudly as he listened to his heart beat in his ears. All this stress...it wasn't good for his mitral valve prolapse. He could feel his heart skipping beats.

It was then that the stifling odor of the cigar met his nose. He coughed weakly, looking at a woman sitting at the bar, with an impatient look on her face.

At least it wasn't Miss Reeouurra. Boli smiled weakly, wiping his hands with a washcloth.

What can I get for you, Miss?

[Moranda Savich]

She looked the barkeep over. Nothing special there, just an average barkeep in an average tapcaf.

Well, maybe not so average tapcaf. Average tapcafs usually didn't have Gralish.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him, smirking.

"Why, young man, if you would be so kind as to give me a double serving of that Gralish liqueur there, please?"

Behind her, a cold breeze suddenly brushed past her neck as someone had opened the door. Moranda gave a quick look over her shoulder, and froze.

Two unpresuming and totally average men had just stepped in. ImpIntel. They had to be. ImpIntel always looked like that. Isard seemed to have a knack for picking the most average looking people out of any crowd and adding them to her list of handlangers...

<Sure, sure... heck, they could be anyone. Let's not get messed up just because two guys decide to take a drink in a tapcaf.>

Moranda forced herself to remain calm. The barkeep handed her the drink, and she threw him a credit chip.

"Thanks, you're a good lad."

She turned around and sat down at a table in the corner with a good view of the two men. As they ordered a glass of lum and proceeded to a table not too far away from hers, her eyes followed them over the rim of the datapad she appeared to be studying.

Time passed.

[Jared Thule]

Jared touched the little commlink attached to his ear twice with his finger, giving the signal that they had the target in sight.

He didn't know what the fuss was all about - the briefing for this mission had been short and not very informative. According to General Oludh, the woman was a wanted criminal of some sort, and had long been on Intel's list. What she was wanted for, he didn't say, and it wasn't necessary for him to know, Jared guessed.

They were to keep her under observation at all times. Not that that was very difficult - they'd been shadowing her ever since they had received the tip-off about her arrival on the planet.

His partner winked at him, then remarked in a casual voice,

"New orders have just come in - there's something else going on in here. HQ got a tip-off about the Reeouurra woman being here."

Jared's eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly looked around. The "Reeouurra woman" was a dangerous half-Cizerack working for Black Sun, he had been told. Well, he certainly couldn't see anyone who looked like one of those cat-people around here.

His partner's eyes shifted left. Jared took a look into that direction, and saw another door next to the bar leading off into the back.

"Must be some separate rooms. Want me to check it out?"

Jared nodded at the other man, forcing a smile onto his face. He hated missions on the planet - Coruscant made him jumpy. This was no different; anything could happen out of the ordinary. And if there was anything he hated, then it was being out of control of a situation.

He watched his partner walk off to the bar, and involve the barkeep into some kind of conversation. Jared shifted his eyes back to the woman, and saw that she was watching the same thing. He settled in.

[Milstran Cophenaar]

He approached the barkeep, his eyes scanning the room as if he were casing the tapcaf. His demeanor was strong and confident, and perhaps even somewhat mocking as the smell of various ales and smoke permeated the air. He walked up to the bar and leaned against it, raising a hand to get the tender’s attention.

“I’m here on business” He said, reaching a hand to the inside lapel of the jacket he wore. As the barkeep approached he withdrew his hand from his jacket, holding what looked to be a leather wallet of some kind. With a flick of the wrist he flipped open the wallet and displayed an ID badge, which read:

<font color=#008080>Coruscant Health Division
Inspector first class: Cophenaar, Milstran</font>

He allowed the man to see the badge then closed the wallet, and looked side to side. “Time for your annual inspection. My associate…” He nodded his head to the side in Jared’s direction. "...can keep an eye on your bar while you show me around."

He pulled a data pad from his belt and began keying in information, pulling up an inspection form on its display. He looked up from the pad and at the barkeep. “Anything you would like to state before the inspection begins?”

[Boli Tannda]

As if his current headaches weren't enough, now there was a suprise inspection from those damned health and safety people. It wasn't that he was worried about his bar...as he kept it in impeccable order. The problem came with the general hassle of having the inspection done in the first place. All in all, it couldn't have come at a worse time.

Absentmindedly, Boli slid the bottle of liquor down to the woman who had spoken to him, and turned nervously to the gentleman.

I-I-uh...c-could you hold on for just one m-moment?

Wringing his hands again, the bartender walked quickly around to the door that led to the back room. Wiping sweat from his brow, he took a moment to collect his erratic breathing, and stabilize himself from a panic attack.

Breathing out slowly, he gave the door three small, courteous knocks.

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive was just about to sign the contract after setting the touch pad to ON, when a low knock came at the door. Clive watched as the four men at the other table looked up abruptly, before he himself swiveled to look at the door.)

(The electronic eye behind the patch registered a large body heat eminating from the other side of the door. The shape looked like that of the bartender. He let out an inaudible breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.)

(Clive was about to turn away when the electronic eye caught three other heat registers in the bar beyond the door. He shifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. Nothing wrong with other patrons to a bar. And yet, his instincts were telling him something was up. Man, he was getting paranoid again. Maybe he should consider retirement...)

(Nah.)

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She almost jumped out of her chair when the knocking came from behind her. Belatedly, she wished she had taken the chair facing the door, but then again - she would not have been able to see those goons either.

She smelt fear in the air. It didn't seem to be coming off Clive, however - nor the goons. That left one other person, and that one should have no reason for that panicked kind of fear now. This could only mean that something else was happening.

Sasseeri didn't like the odds. First Grenar's goons, then some other kind of trouble - whatever waited for them behind the door to the bar; Black Sun trouble was bad enough without someone else wanting a piece of it. She hadn't come here to die in a shoot-out between her own org's men and some other group, and that was that. Time to get down to the real business.

In her mind, she calculated the odds: her own men weren't far - at least two of them would be able to get here within 2 minutes if she needed them. Plus there was Clive, even though he was a bit of a wild-card. But he'd agreed to the terms already - at least this much was certain. With a bit of luck, she could catch two flies with one stroke. She'd simply ask him for a small token of his loyalty, and see that he would deliver himself.

With a lot more confidence than she had had a moment earlier, she now turned to the door and called out.

"What jis jit now???"

[Milstran Cophenaar]

His irritation at being asked to wait was obvious by the sigh he gave before standing fully from leaning against the bar. He turned and looked over at the man who had entered with him and half shrugged, in a fashion that indicated that they would have to wait some before they could continue with what they appeared to be here to do.

He turned his attention back to the man that had walked away, over to the door, and knocked. “Best make it quick, else it will cost you some points on the form.”

His voice made it sound as if he was irritated at having been told to wait. He had to make it seem like he was a civil servant, and from his knowledge and short amount of research, they were far from the most patient types of people in the system.

As he finished speaking, he turned his attention back to the data-pad within his hand and began keying it’s surface with a fingertip, inputting some preliminary information into the form as he waited.

[Boli Tannda]

Boli winced at the annoyed tone of his employer's voice. He wrung his hands again, glancing around.

Miss Reeouurra, we've got health and safety board inspectors here. They want to take a detailed checkup of the bar.

He gulped, ready to jump back in case she decided to lash out in anger.

Wha-wh...what do you want me to do?

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive raised an eyebrow as he watched the bartender get more nervous and more nervous with each passing second. He craned his neck to look past the some-what large man, beyond into the bar. He wanted to see the faces of these health inspectors. Somehow, that nagging feeling in his gut wasn't getting any better. And it wasn't indigestion. Something just didn't feel right about this whole situation. Sure, health inspectors came at odd times just to make surprise inspections. So why wasn't his nerves calming down? There had to be something amiss here.)

(He craned his neck in the other direction, hoping to catch a slight glimpse of anyone out in the bar.)

edit~ sig is too big. Needs to stay within 30k limit.