Darth Viscera
Apr 22nd, 2002, 01:20:23 AM
<center>Rell's Diner, Manarai Heights District
Coruscant</center>
He arrived, sporting a plain brown cloak. His lightsaber hung concealed from a clip on his belt, and he scanned the busy diner for his contact. Indeed, this lunch hour was a busy one; the waiters were putting up with an epic amount of traffic.
"Ttoo cheeba, Ares?" came the reverberating, synth-sounding voice of Treena, his female Rodian contact. She spoke in broken Huttese, which he translated with the force. Regardless of spoken language, Rodians were easy to read.
That you, Ares?
He had given Treena that name for a reason. It was something less than inconspicuous to let a Rodian know that the Imperial Diktat wanted links to a valuable piece of merchandise, lest the item increase in demand.
He took a seat in her booth, and did a quick scan of her person. One blaster pistol in her light coat, a holdout blaster stuffed in her boots. Fine.
Darth Viscera: Do you have what I asked for?
Treena: I do.
Darth Viscera: Show me.
Treena: No no no, you show me credits, I show you holo of the item. You show more credits, and I take you the item.
Smiling, he put several credit chits on the table. Treena shielded a hand over the credits, in an effort to prevent the diner's other customers from looking on her revenue.
Darth Viscera: Eight hundred.
Treena: More.
He tossed two more chits onto the table.
Darth Viscera: One thousand. Show me the holo.
She made a Rodian approximation of a grin, and removed a small holoviewer from her jacket. She thumbed it on, and before his eyes appeared an image of the Gheous Ad, a Sith Holocron. Various markings were etched into its sides, and he couldn't immediately decrypt them. Not in holographic form, anyhow.
He tossed five more credit chits onto the table, which she quickly pocketed.
Darth Viscera: Five thousand. Take me there.
They rose from their seats, getting ready to leave the diner.
Coruscant</center>
He arrived, sporting a plain brown cloak. His lightsaber hung concealed from a clip on his belt, and he scanned the busy diner for his contact. Indeed, this lunch hour was a busy one; the waiters were putting up with an epic amount of traffic.
"Ttoo cheeba, Ares?" came the reverberating, synth-sounding voice of Treena, his female Rodian contact. She spoke in broken Huttese, which he translated with the force. Regardless of spoken language, Rodians were easy to read.
That you, Ares?
He had given Treena that name for a reason. It was something less than inconspicuous to let a Rodian know that the Imperial Diktat wanted links to a valuable piece of merchandise, lest the item increase in demand.
He took a seat in her booth, and did a quick scan of her person. One blaster pistol in her light coat, a holdout blaster stuffed in her boots. Fine.
Darth Viscera: Do you have what I asked for?
Treena: I do.
Darth Viscera: Show me.
Treena: No no no, you show me credits, I show you holo of the item. You show more credits, and I take you the item.
Smiling, he put several credit chits on the table. Treena shielded a hand over the credits, in an effort to prevent the diner's other customers from looking on her revenue.
Darth Viscera: Eight hundred.
Treena: More.
He tossed two more chits onto the table.
Darth Viscera: One thousand. Show me the holo.
She made a Rodian approximation of a grin, and removed a small holoviewer from her jacket. She thumbed it on, and before his eyes appeared an image of the Gheous Ad, a Sith Holocron. Various markings were etched into its sides, and he couldn't immediately decrypt them. Not in holographic form, anyhow.
He tossed five more credit chits onto the table, which she quickly pocketed.
Darth Viscera: Five thousand. Take me there.
They rose from their seats, getting ready to leave the diner.