New Ventures

[Burkhart Kelborn]

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Time: Mid-afternoon
Participants: @Sreeya , @Darasuum
Theme: Red Right Hand ≜ Nick Caves & The Bad Seeds

The Mandalorian squinted at the speeder's built in navigation suite in front of him. Bloody hell am I actually squinting? He thought to himself. It was not bad but it was definitely worse than it used to be. Probably partially due to bright astral lights he witness with less than appropriate safety equipment, the flashbangs, and probably age coupled with genes. But that was nothing that some decent surgery could not fix. He would have to add that to a list of things to do when he got some time away from all this book keeping. Perhaps he would take a breather from managing all of it and rest his eyes.

Bitting down a little on his favorite brand of thick cigara he took a deep take on the heavy smoke before letting it smoke out from his canine lips. That always calmed him down a bit. He was meeting a buyer for the first time. It always made him wary and cautious. This was mandalorian territory and while he was happy to display his jaig eyes of his normal armor this was not a sanctioned sort of venture. He did not like to mix his different areas of life with one another and as such had a different set of armor that, while it had all the same abilities of his old armor was different in appearance.

He would pilot his Bident air speeder through the Nar Shaddaa skyline. In the trunk he had a host of different weaponry. None of it was loaded of course though he did have some ammo for each in a separate case. While the weapons were in the trunk the ammo was in the navigator seat on his side. In case the client wanted to try some of the weapons out that was always good. Four of his kelborn clan mates, ones privy to his dealings, road two ahead and two behind in swoop bikes. Like him they did not have any identifying marks that attracted attention or made people think they were anything than perhaps an enthusiastic group of swoop bike enthusiasts of mandalorian heritage at most.

There was an old air field that they were approaching. Usually used by spiced out pilots storing their uglies that were barely void capable. For the most part it was inactive and away from prying eyes. It was also neutral territory so any deals made were not associated with any one party. Plenty of old hangars and dilapidated warehouses existed along the stretch that made distance observation unreliable.

The small motorcade would come in towards one of the warehouses. A large number 7 and word Hangar written in Huttese was pealing off of the top of it. He brought up the commlink and made the call. He had let the client know they were meeting at the air strip but not which hangar or warehouse and it was still quite a big place. "We're ovar at hangar numbar seyven." Chances were they had already seen the group of riders come in and were already moving. He would wait inside his bident, letting the smoke continue to curl from his cigara while he waited for the client to come into sight. His quadrio of escorts straddling their swoop bikes but otherwise patiently waiting to completely dismount.