Coruscant Tales: High on the Hog

[Sanis Prent]

(The Layla touched down on Arcan IV with a hiss of retrogravs and pneumatic landing struts. The YV-666 transport cooled its systems down, while the gangplank lowered. It was the first time Sanis had taken the ship out since the failed trip to Monto Codru. MARCUS had advised using only critical systems for the flight, and nothing else, so Sanis had kept it to strictly sublight speed, and auxilliary power. He had several connections on Arcan that he intended to use...namely a Cizerack starship specialist named Seerrasseei Tsseerra. He'd come to her before with other business ideas, and he hoped she wouldn't mind a few other requests.

As Sanis exited the ship, he gave the portmaster a few extra credits, to berth the vessel in a more accomodating hangar bay. With that done, Sanis headed to the bar & grill. There were several advantages of Arcan versus Coruscant. One was definitely being out of the spotlight. If Sasseeri Reeouurra saw the parts and requisitions forms that were being processed at the Sector Rangers request, she would be livid. However, getting off-planet would add a little more smoke to the smokescreen. It would give Sanis haven to repair his ship, as well as procure a few other items for later.

The job was already under way on Bothauwi, and he'd hear back from his people within 48 hours on the transaction. For now, he had other more pressing preparations...and recreations.

Entering the bar, Sanis found his "usual" spot...straddling a barstool and ordering a Sullustian draught. His eyes scanned the room, hoping to spot the Cizerack businesswoman. If not, he could always call her.

As Sanis got his beer, he noticed a peculiar red-head entering the establishment)

[Jhena Belitski]

:: Belitski heads straight for the bar and orders a burger and some gingerbeer. She looks around to check out the locals as she eats, but avoids making direct eye contact with anyone ::

[Seerrasseei Tsseerra]

Not too far off, Seer sits at the bar, not really paying attention to who is coming or going since she lost in her thoughts again until she's interrupted by another kick from her unborn child. (Ow, why can you go to sleep for a bit and stop kicking me, kid?) Seer thinks to herself then goes back to thinking of other things again.

OOC: ttt.....

[Sanis Prent]

(A clattering sound could be heard as a credit chit dropped in front of Jhena.)

Its on me...I've got a soft spot for new and pretty faces.

(Sanis slid onto the barstool next to Jhena, smiling politely. He ran a hand through his hair)

[Jhena Belitski]

:: Her eyes glance from the credit chit to Sanis ::

"Thanks."

:: takes another bite of her burger and looks at him curiously. His face was familiar for some reason, but she wasn't sure ::

[Sanis Prent]

(The red hair was a tipoff...and I'd been around the block enough to catch the warning signs. She was trouble. Redheads always were...but something about her added to the equation. Alot was said for so little. The ones who came in running their mouths and waving their pieces usually were the ones you didn't have to worry about. They were overcompensating. But the one-line dames who kept to themselves...they had a way of turning your curiosity against you.

I'd bait her along though. She didn't carry herself like a tourist, at any rate. Between her attire and plain-jane culinary likes, she had something else on the side. If I was a gambling man...it was right up my alley of expertise.

I ordered roast bantha on an onion roll...to pass the time.)

Business or pleasure? Last I checked, Arcan IV wasn't exactly a happening tourist spot.

[Jhena Belitski]

:: looks around ::

"I'm in between jobs, and this is a temporary stop for me."

[Sanis Prent]

(Between jobs...almost a cliche of the times. I wasn't preaching to the choir, I wasn't even in the chapel. I'd be guilty as hell of the same. Spaceports like Arcan had become the haven of the Spacer...the road warriors who slept in their freighters, and whose job descriptions changed with the seasons. She had all the signs. Short, utilitarian haircut, good, well-used jacket...that sparkle in her eye that indicated she was deadly, with a hydrospanner, blaster, or maybe just a shot of bourbon. Maybe the full house.)

You don't say...small galaxy, huh?

You come on your own ship, or did you catch a star ferry?

[Jhena Belitski]

"Star Ferry???"

:: laughs at Sanis::

"Nope, I fly my own."

:: holds out her hand ::

"My name's Belitski. What's yours?"

[Sanis Prent]

(A handshake's a man's own little stab at empathy. You can tell alot about somebody with one. A loose shake, sweaty palm...nervous guy who probably doesn't wanna be where he's at. A rough, shaking handshake...a sign of inadequacy.

But in the middle of all these, certain handshakes only dames could pull off. The right poise, style, and a little bit of personal panache...spoke in volumes that ears couldn't hear. She was holding all her cards, but sitting pretty enough that I could deal em as I saw.

Her hands were semi-calloused, probably from working on engines. That in itself was better than all the panties on Ryloth. You could roll in the hay with any broad that was brandishing a little T&A. It took a better woman to fix a hyperdrive.

My interest was piqued, my whistle was wet, and Miss Belitski was turning out to be an interesting read.)

Prent...registered out of Coruscant.

(I laughed a bit...hell, no need to go down rap sheets.)

Although, I'm here enough on business to buy a condo.

So, you a contract pilot, freelancer, smuggler? All of the above?

[Jhena Belitski]

"Sounds like you're looking for more than just a condo."

:: takes another bite of her burger ::

[Sanis Prent]

(She was sharp...right on the bullseye. I arched an eyebrow, and shrugged, cracking a smile)

There's always something on the side...always a payback, or a kickback. Right now...my ride has been busted six ways to sunday. I put her in drydock, and I'm working on a long overhaul. Gonna be here longer than I'd prefer. Nice place, but business takes me elsewhere.

(Suddenly, a wave of inspiration hit me.)

Hey...you looking to make a few credits?

[Jhena Belitski]

"I knew you were going to ask. That depends on what you have in mind."

[Sanis Prent]

A little friendly game of sabotage.

(A waitress came with my order. Bout time, I was hungry enough to make a Cizerack look anorexic. I took a bite, and when I was done, continued.)

There's a row of hangers a few clicks from here where they taxi all in-bound space traffic. Inside, there's a fairly classy Sorosuub space yacht. Beautiful...nice engines, great features...real fancy getup.

(I washed down my sandwich with a gulp of Sullust's dark)

I need its engines sabotaged, and I'm not talking about popping a potato in its exhaust port. Something good and lengthy to fix...and I absolutely can't let it get back to me.