Ask Coruscant Don't I Know You?

[Jules]

It was the kind of diner where nobody asked questions. You went in, you met whoever you were meant to meet, and you got out. It was probably a front for some kind of crew, or syndicate, or cartel. Surprisingly, it sold pretty damn good noodles, for a filthy dive infested with low-lives and scum. Level 966 wasn't down at the depths, like some levels, but it wasn't anywhere near squeaky clean either. Just like Jules wanted.

When she entered the place, she gave it a cursory scan. Checking out everyone she could see. A couple of humans in the back booth, whispering about something surreptitiously. A Sullustan chef, fussing over a grease-flecked fryer in the back. A grizzled Latero, looking up at her with interest. Casually, Jules strode over. She slipped the hood off her head as she settled across the table from him.

"You made it. You find your way here well enough?" the Latero asked, checking their surroundings.

"Well, obviously I did, seeing as I'm sat here across from you," Jules fired back, rolling her eyes. "There's nobody here. You got the creds or not?"

"Sheesh girl, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble." He reached into a pocket, pulling out a heaping bag. Jules's eyes narrowed.

"They ain't creds, dickwad."

"ISC crowns. Good as. Better, even. Worth more than creds these days."

"Are they shit. I don't want your weird funny money. Credits or no sale." Jules reached into her inner pocket, pulling out a tiny bag. Something shiny shimmering inside it. Just a casual deal for stolen goods. Nothing for anyone to get worked up about, right? Which is why Jules's other hand was resting close to her blaster. Just in case.

@Altaria

 

[Ceris Odrosess]

Through her adventures in the Coruscant under-world, Ceris would occasionally overhear mentions of a diner. They supposedly had really great noodles, but most importantly they seemed shady. Any place that is made with the intent for people to talk 'business' was always shady; a politician's office was surprisingly no different. It was definitely a place to check out, but how would one perform business in a place without a business partner.

At first she attempted to find business partners, but came to realize that it would be easier to have business partners come to her. So under the name "Resic", Ceris began her work. It wouldn't have to be much, all she had to do was spread the word of someone wanting to purchase some items. She would do this under multiple disguises, and asking thugs in the lower levels about "Resic". It was an easy way to spread the word about someone without blatantly doing so.

In a diner booth she sat, and if it weren't for the noodles Ceris would have dreaded every second. Instead of her uniform she dawned what the kids referred to as 'street clothes', however she still carried her blaster. Ceris sat patiently waiting for her 'customers' to arrive; she did carry some credits with her just in case a deal were to go down. Ceris observed each individual that came in, no one of interest entered. There was one exception, a hooded girl. "I wonder when criminals will learn that wearing a hood actually makes you look more suspicious.." Ceris thought to herself. It wasn't until the girl strode by when Ceris caught a glimpse of her face. It felt rather nostalgic, and if it weren't for the nature of the diner Ceris would have engaged in a conversation.

For now the curious captain remained silent and continued to feast on her noodles while waiting. The girl and the Latero were close enough for Ceris to hear their conversation. Hesitantly, Ceris turned her head "If it's credits you wa-" she was cutoff by a tall, muscular, human male, who was a little drunk, slamming his fist onto the table of the Latero and the girl. "Dontchya think you two are being a little too loud? I'm trying to enjoy my fucking noodles." Some other people in the diner began to watch, others chose to ignore and carried on.

@Charndley

 

[Jules]

Nobody could leave you alone during an illicit deal, could they? First of all, some strange lady leaned in close like she owned the place, then some guy came and slammed his fist down on the table. Jules nearly jumped out of her skin, clutching hold of her bag. A few of the 'crowns' tumbled out of the bag. She looked up at the interloper calmly, wondering how to play this.

"Don't you think it might be better to keep out of other people's business?" she told him, eyes fixed firmly on his. Staring him down as her hand slipped round the grip of her blaster. "Back off," she warned, in mangled and heavily accented Hutteese. She'd picked it up from some bad gangster movies and hoped it had the right effect.

Turning her attention back to the Latero, she shook her head. "No deal. Creds or nothing." She stood up and moved out from her spot, looking at the woman who'd tried to catch her attention. Rolling her eyes at the obvious ploy. What kind of idiot offers money on the straight up without actually finding out what they're meant to be buying? A cop, that's who. A cop, or a Jedi, or something weird like that. She was about to tell the woman where she could shove her credits when... when...

Jules froze in her tracks as she got a good look at the woman. Some memory twinged in the back of her brain, something long buried and scabbed over. Her face fell and her mouth hung open for a second.

Whoever this woman was, she'd seen her before. At some party, or event, or even a school thing. Jules knew her. And that meant she knew Jules.

@Altaria

 

[Ceris Odrosess]

Ceris couldn't help but try to hold back her laughter at the girl's Hutteese. She had to forcefully cover her mouth with both hands to hold back. However as the girl got up, Ceris caught a better view of her face. She was good at remembering faces, especially as a Captain of a large ship. Although she couldn't quite put a name or memory to this one. Her laughter quickly faded as she began to think where she recognized this girl from. The girl herself seemed to have recognized Ceris, which meant it couldn't be a coincidence; Ceris has met this girl somewhere.

As Ceris was about to form a question, the musclehead grabbed onto the shoulder of the girl. "I wasn't done with you little la-" a knife would suddenly fly right in front of his face. The direction it came from would point to the chef, who appeared to be severely pissed off. "Ya fucking twat, sit yer ass down or get out!" the chef yelled. Begrudgingly the man let go of the girl's shoulder and went back to his own table.

"Well that just happened.." Ceris muttered before turning her attention back onto the girl. "Sorry to bother but you look rather familiar, have we met before?" Suddenly, Ceris came to realize the danger of this girl recognizing her. If they truly knew each other, then this girl was now a threat to be taken out. It couldn't be done here, there were too many people. The last thing she would need is to have her face plastered as a wanted criminal. "Uh, sorry I just realized I had to go attend to something" she said before attempting to leave the diner.

@Charndley