All Manner of Surprises

[Madeleia]

Having more empty space in the cargo bay of the YT 2400 now allowed her brother to work on his speeder bike without being interrupted. Metal clanking and the occasional sound of movement echoed from the large room, the door open to the galley and common area as well as the main corridor which led to various other rooms and the cockpit. Boots beat upon the metal plating as Madeleia glanced once more to her comlink. Still no messages yet. Sighing, she dropped the slender device into her pant's pocket and continued from her room to the commons area. The ramp open, allowing for recirculated air to flow in and out instead of their own, the pilot had made it a point to also open up all the other doors as well as the ventral access docking tube.

"Get any oil or grease on that floor and I'm going to beat your ass," she stated, walking into the cargo bay to see her seated brother and all the parts and tools strewn about. Leaning on the frame, she crossed her arms, the crimson tank closely fitted to her shapely, lean frame.

Glancing up to her from the box he sat on, blue eyes grinned. "You and who's army?"

"Oh really," Madeleia leaned in, dropping her arms, the right falling to the handle of her T6 Thunderer, gaining his attention now as well.

"That thing don't scare me," he went back to work. "Gonna have to do better than that."

Shaking her head, she knew he had the same upbringing as she did, though his life had been considerably harder. Walking up, she crouched to his right. "How's it coming?"

"Good. Just finished putting his clutch system together and been a bitch getting the mount holes to line up, but I think... we got it," his strain with the bolt evident in his voice, though she couldn't see it from this angle.

"Need some help?"

"Nah, I got this." Hat on backwards as usual, his relaxed demeanor never seemed to diminish no matter what they were faced with. "Your boyfriend ever call?"

Surprised at the title, hazel eyes shot to him. "If I had one, I wouldn't be here right now."

T.J. chuckled. "Yes you would." Finished with that task, he backed and reached for another slender, metal armature and then moved it inside the work area, a tangle of parts and modules clustered in together within the bike's frame. "This is your life as much as it's mine, Mads. We'll be doing this shit until they blow us to hell or we're too old to."

"Rather neither of those scenarios, thanks."

"Well," he chuckled. "What you want and what's reality are rarely similar."

"Shut up," she shot back, smacking him on the arm.

[Grym Kandle]

The old man sat out on the balcony, in a rocking chair. He watched the ships flit by in the evening sky, reaching over to his drink, taking a sip then setting it back down. He stroked his handle-bar mustache, before thumbing the comm link.

"Girl, you make the call yet?"

A moment of silence before the comm link keyed.

"... No."

"Didn't I tell you to do that yesterday?"

"... Forgot."

"Well, get on it."

The girl was a teenager, about three stories down inside the compound, flipping through holovids, trying to find something worth watching. She blew a pink strand of hair out of her face. A few more minutes passed.

"Mildry."

She signed, tossing the remote in frustration, picking up the comm link again.

"Fine. On it."

She sat up from the couch, and headed over to the console on the other side of the room. The room changed from lounge to technician's workplace about half way across the room. She hit a command prompt and pulled up a new comm window. Articulating a fake voice took only another second while she opened another window. She typed up a quick message for her brother who was likely still out in the nearby settlement to let him know he was going to be on the job soon and then fired the text off. That window closed and she came back to the fake voice, altering it slightly as she saw fit before delivering the prompt to make contact with the incoming Black Sun smuggler. She waved her hand over the open comms panel and the fake voice over initiated. She scratched the back of her neck as she began to speak, the voice over translating her voice on the other end into that of middle aged man with a Corellian accent.

"Runner, this is Rancher. Come in."

[Madeleia]

Stacking the new filters from the hoversled, Madeleia let her brother finish working on his bike, knowing he liked his time away from their life and she understood, being a mechanic herself. Having a swoop to work on had been a long time coming and seeing him modify his own gave her the bug again, but they had work to do and making a name for themselves with the Black Sun right now was more important. Closing the door on the repulsor sled, she pushed it back into the cargo bay and magnacoupled it to the floor in the near corner. Walking from the noisier room in the ship, she felt her comlink finally come to life.

'About damn time," she stated, removing the device from her pant's pocket and clicked it on. "Runner here, what's up?" Glancing to her brother as he perked up and turned her way, they both waited for the information that would finally get them moving.

[Grym Kandle]

The lady on the other sounded a bit snappy. Mildreth made a face before keying the comm again.

"This is Rancher, meet up at Tangletown on Lothal. Local bar called Howl-at-the-Moon. Looking for Mick. He plays cards poorly and is worse at driving. See ya there, Runner."

As the comm closed out, Mildreth got the response from her brother. A series of emoji happy faces. She rolls her eyes and sighs, the console screens going dark. She falls back onto the couch, reaching for the comm.

"Done and done, old man."

The old man on the balcony readjusted the blanket over his legs and glanced up at the sky, taking a longer sip of his drink.

"Good girl."

The comm clicked off. Ol' Kandle had given him the heads up it was about time that he got what he deserved. Coming from that cripple, Lazarus was not sure if Grym was finally calling in the debts or actually repaying the favors.

[Madeleia]

Mentally logging in the information, she grinned as the caller clicked off. Slipping the comlink back into her pocket, she moved toward the ramp. "Lock it up," she stated, sparking them both into action as T.J. then began putting his parts and tools away, which meant sweeping them into a neater pile under the bike, she grinned as the servos to the ramp raised it. The inner door closing, she turned and headed toward the cockpit. "Close up the access tubeway."

"Yeah, yeah."

Continuing her hurried trip to the cockpit, she couldn't help but wonder on this contact for the job. What would they be getting into this time, she wondered. Either way, she had every intention on seeing it through and getting paid. That money keeping them flying and the Auburn Sunrise in great shape. Plopping into the pilot's chair, her fingers danced across the control panel, flipping switches and pushing buttons and within moments, they were off. Saying goodbye to Cloud City, she then plotted their course to Lothal and quickly noted the navicomputer's information on the world they were headed to. Mostly agricultural, this was going to be a boring visit, she hoped.

***

Re-entering realspace, the YT 2400 cut through the empty darkness and neared the cloudy, mostly brown and green world of wide open plains and seas. "Contact's Mick in some tavern named Howl-at-the Moon," she relayed to her brother in the copilot's chair.

"Charming name," he replied. "Think they serve lum or do I have to endure the local swill?"

"Probably going to both have to do with what we can get."

Sighing, the younger mechanic and scoundrel shook his head. "Never a break."

"Still breathing."

T.J. shrugged, "Yeah, there's that."

Within moments, they gained clearance to land, though she expected some kind of inspection when they set down as most of these smaller population worlds had that reputation. Once the town situated in the center of a wide open plain, she noticed towers situated out in the plains, isolated. "Graineries?"

"No clue," he replied, curious as well.

Soon after, they set down in the landing area, a small compound of hangars on three sides with the tower in the center. Going through the shutdown, she glanced up occasionally waiting for the Port Authority team, but saw only one disheveled man in a clean uniform on his way. "This should be fun."

[Grym Kandle]

The Howl-at-the-Moon tavern was quieter mid-week. Only the real regulars came in usually, the rest of the field hands and others saving their creds for the weekend to really enjoy themselves when they could afford it. But Mick could not put the cards down. Especially with his allowance. The young man had slick, blonde hair, vibrant green eyes, and a smile that made the local girls swoon. His grand father promised him that one day someone was going to come along break that smile and there'd be a lot of tears shed around town until the next pretty boy showed up. That was what he said, 'there will always be another pretty boy after you', enjoy it while it lasts. Needless to say, Mick did.

The men across the table were not exactly new to town but they had been at the tables off and on, and they had an impression that Mick was an average player. In some circles he was maybe, but if anyone ever really started keeping track, he made a steady profit off these bumpkins without most of them noticing. He played a losing hand, pushed some chips across the board to the gullible winner. Mick leaned back in his chair, stretching, his slim, dull grey jump suit stretched tight.

The locals knew him as the Old Codger's spoiled grandson. Spoiled but liked well enough. Played cards easy and bought plenty of drinks for those who hung at the table. Raced bikes now and then, maybe got caught talking to someone's daughter, but that's all he ever did, they said. His supposed day job was that he managed the Old Codger's shipments and supplies into and out of Tangletown. Believable enough.

"Your turn to deal, Mick."

"Oh, already? alright."

If they only knew what half those shipments contained, the bubble all these people lived in would pop real quick.

[Madeleia]

Streets of mainly hard packed earth, desiring a cooling rain more than anything as Madeleia strolled through the busy avenues, passing shops and modest apartment buildings for those working in town, she supposed. Warm, the air felt somewhat dry and she was beginning to think now that the large towers that she had seen earlier on the way in may have been enormous water silos or something. Having no clue, it didn't matter that much anyway as she soon noticed the sign to the pub hanging over a cluster of speeder bikes and beaten up trucks.

"Hey pretty lady," a middle aged man called from her left, gaining her attention after a moment. "Where from?"

Hazel eyes took in the obvious local who's hard, leathery face and hands turned her off pretty quickly. "Sure as hell not here." A comment garnering several chuckles from his obvious friends beyond in the workshop full of workbenches, machining tools and an air hose hanging from a compressor above. His wry grin told her that he may have just been asking out of curiosity rather than trying to hit on her.

"The way you're dressed, that was pretty obvious." He turned and headed back into the shadow of the awning, his wounded pride evident.

The light brown jacket now covering an auburn tank and dark brown pants, the holstered stubbed carbine on her hip was there for all to see as she moved into the pub. Pushing the door open, the music pumping through speakers who's strain with certain pitches and worn furniture told her this place got pretty rowdy in the evenings. Now all she had to do was find this Mack in all these people. Moving to the bar, an older female redhead neared, smiling.

"What can I get ya' hun?"

"Looking for a guy named Mack," Madeleia stated, then scanned the liquor selections behind the bar as the woman motioned with an upraised chin to the card players. "And a Corellian Nightshade."

A request that gained several looks from around the bar as the woman moved to fill that order. "He's the cute one there dealing."

Turning to eye the group at the table near to the large fireplace, she could tell a bit about him already. How he sat, his clothing, the way he took care of himself as well as how he treated those at the table. Taking her shot of whiskey, she downed it in one gulp and slammed the tumbler onto the beaten counter, then started moving to the gamblers.

[Grym Kandle]

Oh, he'd seen her alright. Mick kept his eyes on the cards and on the table's players but his periphery felt like it was drug over the hotness approaching the table. She was definitely not from around here. He let the man to his right cut the deck and then he dealt the cards with a practiced ease, trying his best to ignore her approach.

Mick took the time to focus in on his own two cards, potential but initially squat. The marker went around and they all stayed even keel until it came to him.

"Raise."

Two of them grunted and folded. The other two stayed in. The next card was dealt and Mick took the natural pause of everyone thinking to finally look over and acknowledge the approaching woman with an award-winning smile.

"Why, good evening, miss. Never seen your pretty face around here; have we, Wayn?"

The other man fell for it, looking away from his cards and up to the woman who had been approaching from over his shoulder. He stuttered some kind of confirmation before realizing the outsider was out of his league.

[Madeleia]

Grinning wryly at the locals, Madeleia scanned the cards Mack held and the configuration on the table already, having no clue which game they were playing, but she let them finish the hand before interrupting. The four others had appearances of a variety of professions, though she was only guessing at each. One being larger and a bit heavier set, his big boned frame told of a mechanic or farmer, maybe - which probably meant off-duty security, she mused. The other three were more than likely unemployed or worked part time in one of the many shops around the town. This last one that had the looks gave her a moment of pause and knowing he was the reason she was here, his profession wasn't as important as why they were meeting. Grym had set this up and she just had to do her part and leave Lothal.

As she pondered those thoughts, two entered the cantina that shifted the player's attention to them, prompting Madeleia to shift her gaze as well to the pair of police officers. Unsure why everyone was quiet all of a sudden, she soon realized why as one of them leaned in and whispered something to the redhead bartender that made her visibly sweat. Nodding, she backed and moved to the register and opened it, taking out several bills and then slipped them to the officer. Though most ignored the transaction as if nothing was going on, she saw it all. His partner started toward the gamblers and the smuggler moved out of his way, gaining his attention for a moment as his eyes undressed her.

"Boys, how's it going today," the short brown hair, set, square jaw and gangly build made her think of a trouble maker that now had a badge.

"Not much," Wayn replied, nervously. "Just another day at the office," he smiled, trying to make a joke that failed fairly miserably.

[Grym Kandle]

The larger fellow, Aren, sighed, setting his cards down, biting his lip a bit before speaking slowly, not intentionally.

"Well, Dillhn, it was going well..."

The local deputy sneered, spitting on the floor beside the big man.

"Yeah, fatty, until when?"

"Well... unt-"

"Now, now, Aren. No need to be rude."

Mick was standing, his chair sliding against the dirty, paneled floor loudly. The deputy by the counter, Jokko, straightened, looking across the room to see if there was trouble. Dillhn's face did not get any better but he took a step back.

"Mick, you get stupid quick tonight or what? It's not early enough for you to be that drunk, is it?"

Mick shrugged, almost forgetting about the blonde as Dillhn nearly stumbled back into her.

[Madeleia]

Having been in the middle of plenty of fights on Plagen, Madeleia's right hand instinctively dropped to the handle of her T6, keeping the action out of the sight of the cop at the bar now taking notice. Backing a step, she pondered whether or not to trip him, then feign an apology after.

"There a problem there, partner," Jokko inquired, his pocket full and left hand on a free drink.

"Nah," Dillhn warned. "Mick's just having a streak of bad luck at the table," he stated, reaching for the stack of money that the gambler had accrued.

Knowing how things could go sideways all of a sudden, especially when threatening a gambler's winnings, the smuggler then stepped up and to Dillhn's right, keeping him between her and the one at the bar. "Probably not the best idea seeing as you guys already got paid," Madeleia stated, her eyes motioning to the bar.

"Keep your mouth shut," the officer warned, his attention on her now....

[Grym Kandle]

The blast that fired across the bar room bowled over Jokko against the bar, smashing glasses and the like as he fell. Mick had not lowered his sonic pistol before he pivoted on his heel and caught Dilhn's jaw with his fist. He rode the punch through until he was standing over Dillhn who was not moving. Mick shook his hand before grabbing the disheveled stack from the limp hand of the unconscious man. Standing with a victorious smile.

"Hey thanks, gorgeous."

The other men stood by now, stunned, looking from one of the cops to the other one. Mick winked at her, dropping near a third of stack in front of her on the table between them. He swaggered to the bar, dropping another third there, and then pumped another sonic round into the still-moving-then-no-longer-moving Jokko. He rolled up what remained and holstered the pistol.

"Well, that about sums up my excitement for the night, fellas. I should've stayed longer, gave you the fair chance you deserved at the table but..."

Pointing at the two trouble makers,

"I've had my fun for the night it seems."

[Madeleia]

The action of the supposedly drunk gambler and contact only motivated the smuggler to draw her stubbed carbine, but the fight was over before it began and she knew now that he could indeed take care of himself. His compliment went ignored as a stunned silence in the tavern's interior was louder than the shot that he fired. Holstering her weapon again, she grabbed the bills he left and followed him toward the bar and then the door, noting the money he laid out for those involved. A generous gambler, she mused.

"You know things are only going to get worse," the redhead behind the bar stated concernedly.

Madeleia didn't know the details of that warning, but she could get a good idea as the stepped back into the evening's glow and cooling air. Turning toward the line of parked vehicles, hazel eyes soon noticed two more officers now running toward the pub, apparently having heard the shot.

"We should get going," she motioned to the approaching officers, still more than fifty yards away and still ignorant of the scene that had just played out inside, but they would be informed quickly enough. "Pretty handy with that thing," she stated, motioning to his pistol.

[Grym Kandle]

"Heh, only up close and personal, I'm afraid."

Mick patted the pistol grip before glancing around.

"You got a ride?"

He said it over his shoulder as he headed to the stable, only called as much because it was an overhang where a number of single to two occupant vehicles were lined up, his black Zechs Mark III swoop bike one of them. He was not in a hurry. Making it appear as if like any other time, he had just walked out rather than start a fight with the regular dren heads. He quirked his mouth to the side thinking as he dusted off the seat and hit the small console, priming the bike. Why'd he pick a fight with them tonight? Her? The Codger would not appreciate this. Well, maybe after he saw her, he might change his mind.

[Madeleia]

"I don't, no. Walked from the landing field," she motioned behind her and down the street. "Wasn't that far." And it gave her more time to formulate other plans should things not go as smoothly as she hoped. Following him into the shadow of the awning, Madeleia appreciated several of the bikes parked here, but none of them were any that she would wish to have. Besides his own, she noted several upgrades to go with the unique paint job. Sliding on the seat behind him, she placed her hands on his hips and glanced back toward the pub knowing that those two cops would be running out of there any minute now.

But, as they cruised from the scene and down the sparsely populated street, she was surprised that they never surfaced. Perhaps they would wait and get him later, she mused. "Think those cops that went into the pub may wait and talk to you later about that? Or do they know where you live already?"

[Grym Kandle]

"They'll swing by the place, no doubt."

They'll make a complaint. The old man will listen only so far. Then he'll scare them off. Then they'll try to find him later. Depending on how many "they" are at that point will mean a lot but Mick figured he'd roll the dice on that one.

Mick did not immediately respond, casually cruising down the road at night, the illumination from the moons keeping it lit well enough as they moved further away and out of the outskirts of Tangletown. He pressed a button to his comm in the inside pocket letting Mildreth know they were headed back, pick up successful. He was enjoying the ride for obvious reasons and even though Mildreth, his younger sister, would not drop the subject for a few weeks to come, Mick did not linger on the road either. His free hand came back to the throttle and it responded liberally, as if the bike itself knew what was next and anticipated it.

"Hey, hold on, alright?"

Giving it a moment for her to adjust, he throttled forward. Not break neck speeds or anything, but still fast enough. The Ranch was out there. The Codger liked his privacy.

[Madeleia]

Knowing that he liked living on the edge and wasn't afraid of the local constabulary reminded her of most on Plagen who all lived the same way, even though most of the cops there were even more crooked than most of the criminals themselves. Being on the payroll of one crimelord or another, it was amazing that world could operate at all. Leaning in a bit more, she enjoyed the wind whipping through her long, straw colored hair and grinned at the thought that he had pushed his bike for just this reason. She wasn't stupid, though for the moment she entertained the thought.

Soon, buildings and clutter soon gave way to the wide open spaces, moonlit scrub and tall grass gently waving in the breeze offered quite the scene. Most of the wide open valleys near the home that she had grown up in with "Uncle Caton" were similar, though at least on Plagen they were greener. She had explored most of it when test running the swoops she repaired and modified and missed those days sometimes. Perhaps a trip home was in the offing when they were done.

Gently rolling hills eventually gave way to lights glowing from various points on the home and garage, their path turning through the gate and down the long drive. "Must've been something growing up here," she yelled over the wind.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick shrugged against her, turning his head and saying something inaudible over his shoulder to her. Finally pulling into the garage where three other bikes waited nearby. One was similar in build to his Zechs Mark III, but the Mark V model had a few pieces and modifications on a tarp underneath it. The next one was a blue with neon highlighting and markings, a much more casual model. The last was something of a monster, a bike that looked like it had eaten two other swoops in order to sustain itself. It was hard to initially tell but that monster bike might even have had an under slung weapon somewhat concealed there.

The compound was relatively simple, apparently five buildings, one of them being nearly four stories, but rustic enough on the outside to not throw out the countryside feeling of the entire place. The gate and fence were a ways off enough that there was plenty of land to look around at before you saw the boundaries of the complex.

He let her dismount before he followed in suit. The engines whined down, the cool air hissing against the heat sinks. He stood, stretching one leg then the other before turning to her.

"Welcome to the Ranch. I'm Mick. You're Runner, I hope?"

His smile was back on. It would not be the first time his gut was wrong, but would that have been such a bad thing in this case? He had debated the fact that she could be a mass murderer or some cut throat pirate but his gut had not taken that angle and he was willing to play the odds there.

[Madeleia]

Taking in the bikes as she dismounted their ride, hazel eyes scrutinized all of them and backed as he followed suit, then introduced himself finally. Gaining her attention, she nodded. "Yeah, that's me." Not giving her real name apparently was how these people operated though she had a suspicion that he had just given up his own. Turning, she moved toward the open door to the garage and stepped outside, now seeing the whole complex beyond the right corner. The tallest apparently being the main building and her eyes rose to the upper balcony that overlooked the whole ranch, no doubt. A dim silhouette of a figure sitting in a chair caught her attention, even though she couldn't make out any details, but had the feeling that he saw her perfectly in the light pouring from the garage now.

"Seems you guys do a lot of business with my benefactor, huh?" Turning to him, her right hand never far from her Thunderer, Madeleia began to relax a bit the more she got to know this gambler.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick shrugged again. Leading her out of the garage and towards the tower of the compound. He made a glance upwards as he walked.

"The old man knows a lot of people from his days of running guns in the outer rim. So I'll be honest, not even sure who your benefactor is. We're not technically affiliated with any specific organization. The old man keeps it modest as best to keep up a degree of isolation and independence."

As they approached the double doors, one of them opened seemingly on its own. The young woman who stood at the door looked like she had been wearing the same clothes for a few days, with half her pink hair sticking up, and apparently having just woken up at the hours of the late evening.

"You find her oh, oh, you found her. Good."

She did not sound satisfied at her own conclusion. Shutting the door before they even reached it. Mick opened the door with no one in sight, sighing, he held the door for the woman behind him before leading her into the foyer, a large but still rustically modest room. Towards the back, large stairs led up into the above floors. There were several photos and holoprints against the wall. Most of them showed the same man with a number of different people in each picture. He bore no physical resemblance to Mick but the winning smile was the same.

[Madeleia]

"Makes sense," she agreed as they left the garage and now also knew the mysterious figure up on the balcony was the one that she would be delivering for this time. Walking across the short distance to the main building, she pondered the courtyard and lack of guards or animals running around, though she assumed that most of them were either in a kennel or inside. As the door opened, she was then greeted with another of the Old Man's crew, though this one nearly reminded her of Mouse almost to a T, prompting a grin as the girl then closed the door on them. Shaking her head, the smuggler then followed Mick into the building and took in the holopics adorning the walls in the foyer and beyond.

Slowing as she took in the figures in each, the resemblance was unmistakable as she glanced to the gambler, "This your dad?" She had never seen a pic of her own parents, but knew them intimately through Uncle Caton's stories over the years, until the loser disappeared.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick shrugged again, not glancing at the photos.

"Grandfather, sort of."

He led her to the stairs, his hand on the rail, glancing up the stairs and above him to see the fleeting image of Mildreth vanish over the railing. They walked up to the second floor, at the top of those stairs was a large frame that Mick only glanced at before continuing to walk. It had the same man, a little older in this one, sitting on a bench facing a man opposite to him on a similar bench. They were smoking something held between each of their fingers and in the other hand of the man opposite was a very recognizable mask.

"The old man liked to keep pictures of his good times, he says, good friends. From hearing him tell it, most of them are long dead."

[Madeleia]

Climbing the stair behind her host, Madeleia pondered this supposed family and how they had been roped into smuggling things to Hutt space and beyond. Plagen had been full of that as well though, generations of thieves, conmen, slavers, dealers and a whole assortment of other great professions had offered more to the economy there than anything else. No one mistook Plagen for a tourist trap, unless those individuals were looking for an opportunity to go totally wild without any consequences. Hazel eyes soon fell on the large pic that he described and walked away from, taking in the pair as well as the mask and now she knew what Grym possibly looked like before he became the addict that she knew now.

"Good times or friends," she inquired, her sarcasm seemingly second nature. Though as she thought about it, there probably wasn't much left of Grym now so alive was a relative term on his part.

Continuing to follow Mick, she scanned a host of doors, open and closed, seeing the occasional occupant whom she assumed were the help. Most glanced her way, but the rest continued on with their own evening rituals.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick continued the trudge up the next flight of stairs, reaching the third floor that had a picture of the man with a cowboy hat, looking infinitely more tired but equally happy, sitting in a chair with a boy just to his side and a girl in the man's lap.

"Yeah, maybe both."

He grinned back at her over his shoulder as they reached the third floor. The stairs continued up but Mick stepped onto the third floor, the room before them very open with a mosaic floor of something that was hard to really piece together from any angle it seemed. The doors were open, letting the evening breeze in from the balcony.

"He's out there. Sorry to leave you hanging but he and I aren't on talking terms at the moment. You'll be fine by yourself, trust me."

The young man tucked a stray strand of hair back in place as he gave that smile and waved her forward to the balcony.

[Madeleia]

Following him up to the next floor, Madeleia was starting to wish that she exercised more. Not admitting that to anyone verbally, she soon slowed her pace as they reached the master bedroom and took in the interesting choice for a tile floor, the morass of color seemingly laid by another addict whom afterwards called it a masterpiece. Hazel eyes then glanced to Mick as he passed her off to the benefactor whose brains had built this compound which made her a bit more respectful than she may have been. That and he was apparently a friend of her boss which meant she had to mind herself now.

Nodding to Mick as he backed out, "Thanks." Turning her attention to the balcony's rail and view beyond as the sun had set, painting the sparse clouds in hues of gold and red. Stepping out onto the shallow, wide patio, the smuggler turned to the seated older man. "Evening."

[Grym Kandle]

The old man lifted his head as if he had been nodding off. The ambiance on the balcony was relaxing, the light of the moon providing more illumination than the dim lamps that lined the balcony. The old man sat in a wheel chair with a blanket over his legs, wearing a fine vest with a jacket over it and a scarf. The hat he wore seemed like a part of him, as if he would have looked awkward without it. He raised his face to hers, his eyes had a similar look to Mick's, as if they saw the world in the same light, but beyond that, it was apparent they were of no blood relations. His white, handle-bar moustache turned up slightly with his grin.

"A pleasure, miss. I am the Rancher. I appreciate you coming out here so far. I hope my grandson was capable enough in bringing you here and prevented himself from accosting you?"

His voice was rich and genuine, straight forward, and tinged with some sort of frustration there at the end.

[Madeleia]

Taking in the vision of a man before her, she could swear that he bought this outfit to emulate some hero from an older holovid, but here he was and apparently not as ready to accept her company as she was to get into his good graces. Nodding, she grinned and turned to him more squarely, glancing back the way Mick had gone. "Nah," she chuckled, hands on hips, her right atop the T6. "I would've come here alone if he tried." Relaxing as she shifted her weight to her left, leaning on the rail. "I was asked by an apparent mutual friend to come see you about a job. Had some cargo to move?" Crossing her arms over her open jacket, she assessed this older man and the state he was in. Though she had met others in the past who appeared immobile and unable to defend themselves that truly surprised people.

Another reason she wasn't pushing any buttons right now.

[Grym Kandle]

The smile on the old man's face was identical to Mick's, as if Mick had been practicing it since a child to be able to mimic his grandfather to perfection.

"You do look like you can handle yourself, Miss. But yes. To the job."

His chair slowly rolled forward and came slightly closer now, not as wary.

"Our mutual acquaintance... That fella' knows how to honor a deal, I'll tell you that. Even if it takes him a lifetime to follow through."

The Rancher harrumphed, shifting his blanket with his gnarled hands.

"Nar Haaska. Far end of Hutt Space. Heard of it?"

His grey eyes caught the moonlight from beneath his hat as he looked up at her.

[Madeleia]

She grinned, now having a little more insight into how well these two knew one another, Madeleia thought about the world that he mentioned and shook her head. "No, never have. I take it it's another well established Hutt world, by the name of it. Or it one that the Empire took?" Having kept abreast of the news over the past few years, she had gleaned enough to know who not to cross when any emerged, as well as anyone to keep an eye out for as a potential ally in the future. Doing favors for the right people paid off sooner or later.

[Grym Kandle]

"Definitely Hutt space. There in lies the danger but the goal. Ever heard of the drug they're calling Bliss?"

He was watching her, reading her to see if anything registered or how it might.

"I need a large shipment of the stuff pushed out to the Nar Haaska without the Hutts knowing that it was you, me, or Black Sun that pushed it there."

[Madeleia]

"Yeah," she nodded, having seen several addicts during her time on Corellia a few years ago. One that combined with several other things had nearly killed the user, which she actively avoided. Nothing was worth getting that torn up over and she was glad that she never started using any of those. If money was to be made by trafficking it, then she would let those that bought it worry about their own vices.

Pondering how to get it to this world without being noticed by either the Hutts or any local officials on the take, she thought long and hard on a possible plan. "Who's the contact? I'll work out the rest."

[Grym Kandle]

"Well, if you'll take him along, the Boy can be the go-between. This is bad business if you're caught by the Imperials or the Allies between here and Hutt space. If the Hutt's find out you've got Bliss on board, you can bet they'll have your ass. Mick knows the contact and you not knowing the contact only makes us all safer in some ways."

He wheeled back a bit, knowing that Mick was only just inside the balcony, refusing to come out after their last argument. The old man was not making up for anything, nor was this an olive branch, just business. And Mick knew it too.

[Madeleia]

Glancing in through the sheer curtain, she noticed the guide standing within the main room listening to their conversation and wondered if she could trust the gambler. It sounded like she didn't have a choice in the matter, then turned her attention to the older rancher seated before her. "Okay. A lot of moving parts, but we'll make this work one way or another. If I do get boarded and they find the stuff, I can't guarantee that it's going any farther than that, though. Just be warned. I'll figure out a way to pay you back, but I'm not going to prison over this."

Sighing, she knew that wasn't the best way to start out a new relationship with a potential customer, but facts were facts and it wasn't like she was delivering baby bottles to a merchant. This drug was highly prized and something that most governments put you away forever if you were caught with a large quantity. The dangers of skirting the law, she mused. "But, we'll do everything we can to get it there and get him back home." Regardless of your relationship.

[Grym Kandle]

The old man laughed an old man laugh, hearty but tired.

"I wouldn't expect any less. If you have to jet the cargo, Lady, that's all you, the Runner, not my call. I'll collect in due time, no worries there."

The wink with the smile.

"Don't underestimate our understandings of the risks here. The Boy'll take care of himself so don't go babysitting him either. This stuff, Bliss, won't get you imprisoned in Hutt space. It'll get you dead. You got to ditch the Boy? He'll handle himself. He always comes back, no worries there."

There was a shuffle in the main room, and at a glance, anyone could've seen the back of Mick descending down the stairway.