[The Exchange]Promotions & Parties

[Aaron Corinth]

The boss had told Clark he was to set up their hut on Naboo for a social gathering. The building had been used for quite some time to show off the wares they had managed to smuggle on to the planet. He had not been told what the event was referring to, only it needed to hold the entirety of the Exchange and it was an important event. He supervised the few slaves that had yet to be sold, setting up tables and preparing drink serving areas, as well as finger foods and delicacies. The last part to be set up was the stage area the announcements would be made from. He carefully organized the candles, chairs, and every detail was executed to perfection. He stepped on to the stage admiring his work as he looked out over the tables and chairs. He nodded stepping off of the stage and heading back to work.

Clark walked around the food service areas noting several delicious looking dishes. He also passed by the bars that would serve refreshments for the night's commotion. Everything appeared to be in order and the others would be here soon. He spoke to the slaves, "Tonight is a big night. I want all of you in clothes we have provided for you. You will act properly and be courteous to every person in the room. We need you to try to convince these people that slavery is not as bad as they think."

He clapped as he waved for them to get to work and he headed to a small restroom in which his clothing had been placed to change into. He had an elegant suit laid out for him to wear for this evening. He had no hand in what was to come, but this was an opportunity for the rabble to show they weren't all tasteless thieves and smugglers. They could look good as well. He tucked his vibroblades and blaster into his belt which was well covered by the coat. He would hope everyone was not fool enough to come without a weapon. He chuckled to himself after placing the finishing touch, the jacket, on and he headed back out into the lounge. He headed for the door to allow the others to begin to enter.

 

[Lindgart]

Social meetings were something he did not have any pleasure attending to, although during his life he had learned about their importance. That was the reason why he was dressing a navy blue business suit and white shirt. The dark red tie was a touch suggested by his First Mate. To finish the attire he chose a dark over coating. The fedora matched it. For the occasion, his inseparable lightsaber was placed inside the concealed armpit holster. He just nodded with his regular stern expression as asked if he was sure he would wear the fencing sword hanging from his belt. He wanted to make an impression and he wanted to make it clear he was one not to be messed with.

Kelkar checked the time was glad he entered the social event location at the exact time the invitation indicated. Halisstrad had been very clear about his will on Kelkar attending to the event and the Chiss did not want to dissatisfy his superiors. He was sure his presence was not a matter of whim, but a matter of necessity. He did not care about slave the same way he did not care about the weak. In his opinion, only the strong survived and if one had been unable enough to conquer they freedom, they deserved the condition. Neither he had interest in the slave market, for having someone to work under that condition would not guarantee dedication and will to grow, and, sentient without those perks had no value to the pirate Captain.

Sided by his secretary droid Cee-Zee he marched in carrying his regal presence. He was born a noble and he had had the best education C’silla had to offer, traits so engraved in his personality that sometimes made it difficult to believe he was a pirate, cause, most of sentient thought of pirates as disgruntled and undisciplined outlaws. Only those who had fallen prey to a raid from The Expropriator and The Exchange insiders knew the Chiss carried his pirate activities professionally. His crew dressed and behaved as if they worked in a business company. They were professionals and they acted and behaved as such.

Unavoidably his military mind made him to observe the place. Hidden spots, possible exits and probable positions someone trying something fun could assume inside the building. He knew an attack was not supposed to happen, although, it was on this mindset that he had made many his prey. That was the kind of mistake he could not make.

After he had taken a few steps inside, a host had greeted him and had seated the Chiss in the proper place. He thanked her in and ordered the finest dry red wine the house had to offer. Knowing punctuality was a gift for a few, he patiently waited there in silence, not eager to all the noise and compliments the place would be soon bustling with. He was there to observe. To study the buyers, the other Exchange members and the members of his crew who had also been invited to attend to the event. Information is gathered on every place and situations if one knows what to look for or to listen to…

 

[blstrgmr]

Armand would begin to follow after Kelkar. How he hated these things. He never really felt at home during big social events like this. Not to say he was antisocial or simply too busy brooding in corners, but he never felt apart of something bigger than himself. That however, was the case tonight. Suits? Nonsense. He refused to pay for anything he wouldn't need and decided to do the bare minimum. The merc wore a simple collared black silk shirt and black dress pants. No tie, no shiny black shoes, no ridiculous hats or canes. For the most part, Armand was there to dissuade anybody from trying anything. Like the others who concealed their weaponry in various holsters and pouches hidden among their clothing, Armand proudly toted his two vibroblades at his side for all to observe.

The first thing he would notice, besides the hosts and such trying to convince him into changing into something more formal, were the slave servers. His blood would boil in that instant. He found it abhorring that they were putting on a show to convince people that slavery was somehow right. As he continued, those wowed by Kelkar's brilliant and luxurious arrival were put off by Armand's abrupt ruggedness and apathy towards all things high-class. His needed position unknown, he went to the bar.

He took a seat somewhere near the back so he could watch the door and the main area at the same time. Out of everybody that would be arriving, Armand had faith that he'd be the one best suited for the job if an issue arose. He had little class, wealth, charisma, or likability...but he'd be damned if he couldn't handle a situation with his blades. He hailed one of the slaves as they approached. Scantily clad. Figures. "Just a beer. Any brand works. And take your time...have a smoke or a drink somewhere. If anybody gives you any trouble, tell them it was an order from Armand." He told the Twi'lek female. She almost grinned at him before leaving to the back rooms.

 

[Richter]

"A formal function. Of murderers, pirates, thieves, and the general scum of the galaxy." Aldir commented to himself while he neared the staff door towards of the back of the building where the event was being held. He checked his blades, "Secure and accessible. This is going to be a long evening. Would rather be in my quarters reading or drawing. But what am I do to?" Finishing the question to himself before reaching the door. While he was dressed in an expertly tailored suit, he blended in with the service staff well enough. Before stepping into the main room, he straightens his dark grey tie without even looking into a mirror.

Aldir always liked being early. Got to watch people coming in and out, see the developing patterns of the room and more importantly, he would be able to see if the patterns in the room changed. This latter would be exceedingly important for a crowd such as this. He gripped his weapons through his suit as he moved through the awkwardly thrown shadows. This lighting pattern is going to give me a headache eventually. And talk about a truly garish theme color scheme. I shouldn't be surprised, given this organization's penchant for flash and show. Hopefully this wont take too long and I will be able to go somewhere... quieter. he thoughts as he walked the perimeter of the room.

Eventually he found a spot near the kitchen entrance that was in the heart of a shadow. Perfect. was his thought as he sat, elbows on the table in front of the seat. Interlacing his fingers he waited in the dark, watching the rest of the room. Servers and other staff members moved in and out of the kitchen barely noticing him if at all.

Hopefully this will not take too terribly long.

 

[Aaron Corinth]

Mack had received the summons to the compound on Naboo. She had never been there before but she figured there is a first time for everything. The old YT she had borrowed dropped out of hyperspace near the planet and she headed directly to the compound. The ship touched down taking a small corner of the landing pad. The loading ramp shot out as did Mack as she new she was late. She had dressed quickly in rather simple clothing, not near as nice as the last special event she had been asked to appear at. She punched the door activation and it shot open with a woosh.

She walked inside somewhat surprised at the roomy interior and of the stage and tables set up. It appeared set up for a dinner or perhaps a show of new wares. She passed a cursory glance over the room noting people she had worked with before, Kelkar, Aldir, and Armand most notably stuck out. She made a mental note to talk to them some point tonight as an usher quickly met her at the door. The female she could only guess was a slave escorted her towards the far wall. She was in front of the stage to the right. She idly wondered what all the fuss could be about as she ordered a plain whiskey and awaited the events to come.

 

[Lezzles]

The knife now carefully placed in it's holster near her ankle, Zia shifted her dress one more time before entering. She felt awkward wearing the gown knowing that it had been bought for her for the entrance ceremony for university. She sighed...the guilt rolling over her. My parents spent good money on this dress might as well wear it, she thought and half-heartedly walked into the lounge.

It was a lot brighter than she expected, but then again her usual choice of tap cafes weren't necessarily the most luxurious of bars. She was not pleased that the servers appeared to be slaves with some lipstick and fancy clothes slapped on them. Those poor girls, she thought, I wonder how they got into this mess. Probably the same way I did, a small voice in the back of her head answered. Looking around she spotted only a handful of others that had already arrived. There was an Umbaran she didn't recognize in the dark corner of the room near the kitchen, a human that was obviously underdressed in the back, and of course Mack near the stage, whiskey in hand. The captain, Kelkar, had also arrived looking regal as usual at a table drinking by himself. She didn't know if the captain had seen her, and instead of seating herself at his table moved to the bar for a drink.

"Corellian fire whiskey on the rocks, please." As the bartender poured her drink, she looked around some more unsure of what to do next.

 

[Srota]

The little base on Naboo had done well so far, with room for a good deal of merchandise to be kept in stock there, as well as food and other suplies. However, he had elected to stay in the nearest city, instead traveling by a speeder over to the base the day of the event. Things were to come, and though Mack would be surprised, he hoped the others would see why he was doing such a thing. Events like this were important, they allowed people to feel connected, as though they were a part of something.

idly he reached over and scratched the head of Achillies, his pet Anooba, the creature growled a bit, before sticking its head out from behind the windscreen. Soon, they would arrive, and then things would begin. For once, nobody would die, he hoped, and instead they would be able to drink and have some fun. Soon, the speeder came to a stop and the three passengers filed out, making their way up to the compound on foot.

 

[Minuteman75]

As a rule, Tamara didn't attend formal parties not unless she was crashing them...violently. Though regretfully it was not to be in this case, considering tonight's event was for the organization she had recently joined. But however, just because it was a fancy get-up together doesn't mean she will wear a dress or anything similar. Instead the Zabrak female walking through the door was wearing dark shirt with a matching jacket, pants, and shoes. Once inside Tamara noted the people already at the tables and stage.

Some of them looked dangerous but Farren wasn't actually in awe of them, of course she did respected Mack who recruited her recently. The merc sat herself at one table by herself close to the stage in the center by the left side. Quickly Tamara noticed almost all of the severs nearby were nervous and fearful when glancing toward her direction and she already knew why, it was her yellow eyes, blood-painted horns, pale skin, and savage demeanor.

They should be. If they weren't so valuable as slaves to the Exchange I would be slaughtering some of them by now. Oh well there always plenty of sport to go around in the galaxy.

With that in mind, Tamara gave an predatory grin to the slaves, savoring the possibilities of whatever mental discomfort she will be allow to bring to them this evening.

 

[Stormthroe]

After spending the majority of his night in the swoon of drunken stupor, enjoying the company of a tight little Naboo redhead who he'd met later in that night at the local cantina, Dmitri had awoken in his room at the inn with a mild headache but lifted spirits. He'd been offered a job with the Exchange, and though he had no idea what type of work he'd be doing, they'd recruited him for his skills so he'd be getting paid doing what he was good at, at least, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment.

As he saw his connect-disconnect out, he went to the refresher and quickly showered, letting the hot and steaming water run down his body as he cleaned. When he finished, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off, tying it about his waist as he checked the trimming of his groomed facial hair in the mirror and went about his morning hygiene routine. Once he finished grooming himself, he turned out of the refresher and dressed, pulling on his combat trousers and socks from the day previous. His bare, tattooed chest was still damp as he reached for the dog tags he wore around his neck, pulling the beaded chain over his head as they clinked against his broad pectorals.

Turning and leaving his fatigue shirt, he sat down, looking for the note he'd been passed at the bar a few nights before again just to confirm the location and time for the event he'd been instructed to attend. Formal attire, it said. Unfortunately he had no formal wear to speak of besides his old uniform. He grumbled, pulling his Egis armor from the closet where he'd put it out of sight before going to the cantina and setting it on the bed, opening up the black duffle that held his spare clothing underneath. He pulled out the carefully folded uniform, and the accompanying beret that bore the same symbol his dogtags did, the symbol for the Mandalorian Marines, as did the breast. He smiled, running his hand over the fabric, not remembering why he took such pride in the symbol due to his memory loss, but taking pride nonetheless. It was a frustrating emotion.
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As the speeder driver slowed in front of the establishment he'd been instructed to attend, Dmitri checked over his uniform one last time before stepping off, handing a few credits to the cabby as his freshly polished boots hit the deck with a dull thud. He briskly walked, somewhat nervous to meet the face of his employers for the first time. Based on the quality look at the entrance, they were surely wealthy, and he wondered what type of people his coworkers were. He rolled his shoulders, stretching as he sighed, walking into the doors as he checked his belt for his combat blade in its sheathe and to make sure his machine pistol was secure in its holster.

He adjusted his beret as he entered the room. It was large and spacious, exquisitely decorated with seating scattered about. Several well dressed attendants wandered around, tending to the half dozen or so people who had already arrived. He swallowed, each of them wearing some significantly more formal attire than his sharply pressed, but casual uniform. The only thing that even remotely made him seem in the right place was the gold pin on the beret and the trim of the uniform shining faintly in the soft light of the bar. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the lower level of the artificial light.

He walked briskly across the room, back straight and his muscled form pressed out smartly, the rigidity in his movements belying his disciplined personality. He approached one of the tables near the stage to make sure he had a good view and ability to hear any speeches, while surveying the rest of the party locale, making a note of the entrances and anywhere there might be to make an escape if need be. He couldn't see the entrance from his seat, but the stage itself had a door leading to the next room he could bolt for if something happened. As he scanned the room more, towards the bar he saw a suited Chiss who seemed to be doing the same action of scanning the room. Their eyes met for a moment, and Dmitri nodded, acknowledging him before scanning the rest of the room. Comfortable with his observations, he sat down, resting his hand upon the holster of his machine pistol as he leaned back into the surprisingly comfortable chair as one of the attendants moved towards him, asking him if he'd like anything prior to the party.

"Yes please. Tihaar, no ice." he spoke, smiling to the woman as he placed his order for the Mandalorian liqueur. With her close proximity, Dmitri noticed scars and her inability to look him in the eye even as he attempted with her as he did with everyone he spoke to. She must have been a slave. He ignored it, shrugging his shoulders as she walked away to fix his drink, it wasn't his concern though he personally had a distaste for owning slaves. In the meantime, he scanned the other patrons, each he had to assume was a member of the Exchange as well. A Nautilan woman stood at the bar, and not to far away a human and zabrak female stood as well, each to their own location. In addition to the Chiss he'd seen earlier, a few other men also stood within the establishment, and the stranger he'd spoken to a few days ago was busy moving about, directing the attendants wearing an elegant and crisp tuxedo. Dmitri made a mental note of them each, even as the door opened and another small group entered, accompanied by an excitable Anooba pup. Each was dressed well, and Dmitri noted the major cybernetics on one of them. He stood a little straighter in his seat at the new members presence, the respect shown them obviously marking them important. The slave girl who had gone to fix his drink returned, handing him the glass of sweetly smelling but potent clear liquid in a tall crystal glass before departing, keeping her head low. Dmitri sipped it, letting it burn down his throat as he swallowed, then rested it upon the table, observing the others.

 

[Tiberius Semper]

Nar Shadda, "Living Ink" Tattoo Parlor​

Kl'aal sat down at the tattoo shop on Nar Shadda, and leafed through the holovids showing the countless artistic ventures of the owner and artist. It was a small hole in the wall, that catered to locals only - and only those who knew of the artist - not one of the tourist traps that pervaded the more commercial side of the smugglers moon. The artist himself a Zabrak was one of the better artist this side of the galaxy, and the prices he charged in accordance with this were extremely high. But he was more then worth it.

Kl'aal was here to celebrate his return - alive, and unharmed - from Bespin and was eager to get something elegant and striking to show in the upcoming event he had been invited to. It was some sort of formal event, something he was a bit puzzled on when initially reading the invitation - after all, for a society that kept to the shadows, the bosses propensity for excessive flair was a little unusual.
Shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand Kl'aal beckoned to the small shops owner and pointed to a beautiful angled double helix for his face, a mirror image jagged line for his chest and a circle of red for his tail.

Then he leaned back into the chair and relaxed as the tattoo artist got to work, spraying the paint on his fur while Kl'aal thought ahead to what he would need to wear for the event. He wanted something that looked classy and elegant but at the same time would enable him to carry a concealed weapon - aside from his already deadly claws and cybernetic prosthesis. He remembered a black and silver trench-coat that he had seen while browsing for something to wear and grinned to himself, that would perfectly work for his purposes and he immediately closed his eyes as he engaged the Borg Construct Aj^6 and connected via his datapad to the Nar Shadda network point and the HoloNet and started to browse for that coat that he had found earlier.

Two hour's later​

Kl'aal prowled soundlessly through the streets and into his Hangar and walked up the ramp and into his ship. He dropped off the new clothing he had bought and then padded silently towards the cockpit. As he arrived he set the coordinates for Naboo and then activated the auto-pilot sending him blasting off into space.

---

Naboo, Exchange territory
Kl'aal walked into the building and paused at the entrance, he quickly looked at himself to make sure everything was in its place - the small hold out blaster he had concealed in an armpit holster as well as the small vibroknife he had strapped to a boot sheath as well as the overcoat, opened on the chest to show off his bare torso and the news markings, and matching dark obsidian colored pants that blended well with his fur and coat.

He walked into the main room and looked around, assessing the room and its inhabitants before he entered, his silhouette fading in and out of vision as he walked through the room, seemingly appearing to vanish as he passed into shadows and then reappearing for a few brief moments.
It looked like the gang was here, Kl'aal thought to himself as he noticed the Chiss he had come to know sitting with a small droid, Armand sitting somewhere in the back looking angry at something, the Umbaran Aldir watching everyone as usual nearly hidden from view to those without ultraviolet vision, as well as Mack sitting in the limelight as usual. He grinned to himself and the slowly padded towards Kelkar, and sliding into a seat next to him "Who are the new guys" he murmured as quietly as he could to Kelkar and discreetly pointed to a savage looking woman as well as a Human who sported Mandalorian symbols on his breast.

---

OOC:​

Kl'aals new look - here

 

[Srota]

The Compere looked over the room at all the new arrivals and smiled a bit, it was good to see the group growing and evolving, for that was why everyone was here, though they did not quite know it yet. Nod was given to Mack and then to Clark, greeting them in turn as he idly reached down to scratch the Anooba pup behind it's ear. He smiled a bit as the animal's long tail whipped about, smacking into unsuspecting legs, people giving angry glares at the animal until they realized just who it belonged to. Such weakness, he would respect them more if they had been willing to speak their mind. But what could he expect? Not many were his equals in his mind.

He raised a hand and waved over one of the slave women, a red twi'lek, and upon her arrival, he leaned over and whispered something to her ear cone. The woman blushed an even brighter red and he chuckled, slapping her playfully on the behind before nodding for her to leave and attend to his instructions. She soon returned, having left a message for Mack to come to him and she also brought a bottle of whiskey for him. It was corellian, a fine vintage, the golden amber color sparkling a bit as the light hit it. He chuckled as the twi'lek blushed when his eyes caught her's, and he treated her with a rather salacious wink in return which sent her scurrying off once more.

 

[blstrgmr]

Armand stood up and began walking, beer in hand from the slave who had just gotten off her Armand-sanctioned "break". As the red-skinned Twi'lek passed, he grabbed her gently by the arm. "What happens next, just go with it." As the merc made his way to the bar, he decided that he couldn't simply draw his sword and start slashing at anybody mistreating the slaves. The idea that had sprung into his head would serve his and the Exchange's needs.

He did a little tap on his beer bottle loud enough to ring some attention. "And since we're all wasted, I'm sure, let's give a nice round of applause for our servers today for keeping it all flowing. You all have yourselves a break and a drink, round's on me." He never needed money anyway. And he wasn't sure who he'd even pay either. It'd work out in the end. The red-skinned slave and the slave he'd already given a break were the first ones to embrace it, followed by the others. Only the one attending the bar would keep everything going, bless their heart. Armand got what he wanted, and The Exchange's slaves didn't quite look like terribly abused and unethical slaves to onlookers.

Armand would give a quick glance and a daring smirk to the Compere from across the room. A clever act of defiance. Though his ideas not involving blades were far and few in between. The Compere would be foolish to try and quell Armand's doing. It'd reflect bad on the Exchange. His next look would be given towards one Tamara Farren. Armand had her a little of her before, but nothing too special. He was more interested in the way she carried herself in the open. In a strange way, it reminded him of himself a couple years back. Whether he knew it or not, his gaze was obviously fixated on her.

 

[Aaron Corinth]

Clark had maintained walking around keeping the various slaves moving and handing drinks out to ensure the night went perfectly. He met the eye of the Compere as he entered with a nod. A scowl crossed his face as the man, whom he did not recognize, toasted the room and allowed the slaves to take a break. He wasn't opposed to the idea, but the man taking it of his own accord to order the slaves he was to manage was unacceptable. He clapped politely as the man finished the toast and the slaves headed towards their break room.

He followed one of the slaves until he reached the bar and approached the man who had disturbed the ceremony. He tapped the man on the shoulder to get his attention. "Excuse me, my name is Clark. I manage the goings on at the Naboo facility for the most part. I would appreciate in the future passing such ideas on to myself before announcing to the entire company, especially in the presence of the Compere," he spoke softly but with acid in his voice.

He extended his hand to the man and spoke in a genuinely nice tone, "It was a pleasure to meet you and I hope you have a pleasant rest of the evening."

He nodded to the man before heading back into the fray. He reached the door and headed outside. He made a brief walk around the building noticing nothing of particular interest before heading back inside. He took a seat near the stage with a sigh as he propped a leg up on his other awaiting the evening's event.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Mack had already swallowed two of the glasses filled to the brim with whiskey before one of the slaves approached her. She spoke quietly in her ear advising the Compere wanted to speak with her. She sighed and stood, holding on to the table to stop the swimming in her head. She headed towards the table the Compere had decided to sit at. He had already greeted her as he entered, she wondered what it could be about.

Her eyes passed over the various individuals she had come to know in the Exchange. The group was different, but it was more of a family than she had ever had before, causing a smile to reach her face. About that time she hid the edge of a table forcing her to grasp it to keep from falling. Luckily, it was free of occupants as she righted herself. She smoothed her dress and continued the short distance to the Compere.

She reached him as Armand had the gall to stand up and speak. The same slave that had passed on the message from the Compere happened to be the one that had started the mess. A smile reached her face as he finished. However, the expression on others' faces caused it to vanish almost instantaneously. She reached the Compere, smiling warmly before speaking, "Hello dear, long time no see. What may I ask is the occasion for such an extravagant event?"

Her head still swam a bit as she glanced to the cybernetic eye and the rippling muscles as well as the new pets it appeared the Compere had obtained. She reached down to pet the Anooba pup who enthusiastically licked her hand. Her eyes turned back to the Compere awaiting his reply.

 

[Lindgart]

GAA-DOOH​

Flapping his wings in the frantically way inherent to Toydarians, Gaa-dooh hovered into the hall. A commotion seemed to be going on but he didn't turn his attention from the gorgeous hostess which had welcomed him. He clothes and body aroused the alien's instincts. He held a lit cigar between his fingers and played with her asking if his bow tie was in place and if his black bowler hat, which matched his vest suit, was properly angled the side. The bottom part of his body was naked and the scientist really believed he was very handsome that night. After him, four visible tampered with R9 astromech units followed him, one promptly separated from his master in search of drinks and a second to fetch some food.

After ten years eating only the same auto-chef food, he had promised himself that he would treat his taste and belly very well from now on. For the night to become perfect a little spiced and more private party would have to happen later. He scanned the room since all was new to him. The only person he did really know was Dr. Clark Corinth and the man was busy. He had arranged a good reception, however, the environment felt a little tense after the commotion of a few moments ago. Gaa-dooh smiled broadly and nodded to everyone clearly open to know new people.

---

KELKAR​

The Pirate Captain sat and observed more than interacted. He dealt with the fact one could not be too picky when assembling sentient together in order to perform criminal activities. Of course many would be unmannered, illiterate, ignorant of art and refined things. The organization had done a fine job on the choices of drinks and food, although in Kelkar's opinion it was “to cast pearls before swine”, a few of them appreciated the goods properly or knew what was involved on their production. It didn't matter, they weren't picked regarding those kind of skill or knowledge, but for the ability to bring results.

Kelkar, crossed eyes with the Compère when the man arrived and nodded slightest in respect, the Chiss kept himself in place knowing if he was needed or if someone of importance wanted to talk to him he would be told. He kept making mental notes on each operative as the night went on. It was when Kl'aal approached him that Kelkar smiled, a faint smile, for the first time that night. “They are... the new guys. They haven't spoken to me yet. The Chiss said in his regular cold tone and pointed a properly dressed but clearly not trained to wear the beautiful dress “That is Zia, part of the Expropriator crew. A young woman who can get things done.” He scanned the room againg with his eyes, his expression uninterested as he saw a commotion about to be formed “Sit down my good Kl'aal, have a Hapan wine and enjoy the show.” he pointed to a human who began to draw attention.

From the man who had initiated a commotion on toasting to slaves Kelkar sensed uneasiness. Of course, the Chiss had not toasted to slaves, but he kept discreet. What he wondered was to what extent people are willing to go, to be seen or noticed. Did that man want anything else with the little show? Kelkar just wanted the time to pass soon enough so his obligation would be fulfilled and he could attend to more important matters. He chose to grant his attention to Kl'aal the only person in the room with whom Kelkar really had some kind of friendship.

 

[Minuteman75]

Tamara didn't know whether to laugh or puke at the spectacle that the human named Armand was creating with the slaves at the bar. Maybe he was trying to butter them up to slave better or he actually care about them and hates their bondage. In her opinion, anyone who is a slave is a weakling, not deserving any consideration other than how useful they are dead or alive.

If they were strong enough they wouldn't be slaves in the first place. Tamara told herself in thought when she noticed Armand was looking at her where from he was.

The Zabrak was no stranger to being looked at but still she wondered why is that slave-lover putting his focus on her for since he already won himself some fans. Now another human appeared to Armand to give what looks a strong lecture. But then a Toydarian with a few droids came into place smiling and nodding as he go. That winged species always struck her as amusing creatures. Especially during one merc job she cut off the wings of one female Toydarian arms dealer and then threw her off a skyscraper.

Tamara chuckle at that memory of that dealer helplessly screaming and flailing her arms until hitting the pavement. Her only regret in that incident was not filming it to amuse herself in the future. But the walk down memory lane was interrupted when she was reminded of her new admirer or whatever he is. Looking back at Armand, Tamara put her left index finger and thumb to her chin with an challenging expression that openly stated Farren's new set of thoughts to Armand;

"What are you waiting for? If you got something to say to me come right here and say it.

 

[blstrgmr]

Satisfied with his own performance and the reactions of the party-goers, he turned to Clark who was trying to get his attention. He'd simply state: "Armand.", when asked to introduce himself. "I want a thank-you note when the Compy gives you a payraise. Sometimes listening to the slaves every once and a while pays off. The slaves're all yours. Go get a few drinks in you while you're at it." He completely blew off the handshake. There'd be time for that later. He seemed to have a semi-permanent scowl the whole exchange between them.

He gave a dismissive wave to Clark as he made strong strides towards Tamara. Something was off about her. While he didn't know it, they were very alike. Fighters. Not exactly in it for the money, but in it for the rush, the challenge, the entertainment. However, where she enjoyed it all around, Armand only sought combat that he hadn't seen before. Always edging higher...refusing to take small contracts. Even maintaing a sort of personal swordsman's code about himself. They were almost like two sides of the same coin. Armand could've very well ended up a lot like her. He wasn't sure of that exactly, and couldn't put it into words...he could just feel it. The Force suggested it, he guessed. He made a mental note to thank Damion and also curse him for trying to get him sucked into the void of space.

As he approached, he tried to formulate something to say. Nothing exactly coherent, and everything going off instinct and what he felt. Or whatever the mystical space magic energy was telling him. He refused to truly trust in The Force, even after Damion's teachings. He stopped barely two feet away from Tamara, starting to be able to make out her appearance now. She was a significant number of inches shorter than he was. Armand also noted that like him, she wore the bare minimum dress to at least be presentable to the public at this event. His features had softened by the time he reached her.

"So here you are, part of The Exchange. At first you're unassuming, and then I start to look at you. You've got the whole "dark and violent" thing going, I can see it. It's written all over your face. Then you pull the anti-social act and sit by yourself and don't try to make a word of conversation...and then you start glaring at the...help. It's like you're trying to be so incredibly passive aggressive that you turn away any potential friends here and make them respect you solely through that." Unsurprisingly enough, he had done all the same, minus the glaring at slaves. Armand was finally under the idea that he was rambling and stopped up short with the first thought that came to his mind. "I like you. What's your name?"

 

[Minuteman75]

One thing was for sure about this human, he got guts, Tamara concluded following Armand's attempt at psychology and flirtation. Armand actually had the nerve to come over to her which did speak a lot about him. Still he didn't know what he got himself into, they never do... But trying to teach him some manners, "the hard way" would probably not go over well with her new bosses, even though Armand did just likely ticked them off. Very well she will humor his presence maybe it will be amusing or even fun.

"Wow do you go around playing psychologist with everyone you meet or am I a special case?"

Tamara sarcastically commented looking up to Armand with a wicked smile before continuing;

"Now as for friends well I sooner eat Bantha fodder than to be form a bond with any of the so-called 'Help' who couldn't even help themselves from becoming slaves. As for our fellow partners in crime in the Exchange well they will have to earn my respect first and let me tell you it only right now consist of the bosses in charge. But I am curious what certain aspects about me is that you find attractive? It couldn't be my 'charming disposition' that you 'so expertly' noted.

Oh by the way my name is Tamara Farren if you still care."

One of the things, Tamara loved most beside being a savage was being sarcastic.

 

[Srota]

It was like a family in a way, the little arguments, the spats, and the differences of opinion. Perhaps that was why he just waved dismissively at the commotion that had arisen, just idly watching as Mack approached. "Why hello Mack, a pleasure as always. As for why, all will be revealed in good time." Finally, his drink was brought to him and he took a sip, just enjoying the flavor as he watched his people for a moment. "When you look at them, what do you see, Mack?" He asked, before turning to her. "You know what I see? I see a group of people who work hard, who drink hard, and who know how to get a job done right. That being said, they do seem to get in trouble with one another. Obviously, there is a deficit somewhere, where do you think that is?"

Before she could answer him, he rose to his feet, setting the glass down hard, loud enough that it rang out through the room. "No no, don't answer that, Mack, the point is made. We had an issue and it is resolved, that is why we are all here today, to witness the revealing of that correction. To see the one I have chosen to help keep this place running smoothly and efficiently. That person is you, Mack. Relax while you can, you have a lot of work ahead of you..." With that, he made his way back to the bar and sat down, idly reaching down to scritch the anooba behind it's ears.

 

[Tiberius Semper]

Kelkar smiled, a faint smile, for the first time that night. “They are... the new guys. They haven't spoken to me yet. The Chiss said in his regular cold tone and pointed a properly dressed but clearly not trained to wear the beautiful dress “That is Zia, part of the Expropriator crew. A young woman who can get things done.” Kelkar scanned the room again with his eyes, his expression uninterested as he saw a commotion about to be formed “Sit down my good Kl'aal, have a Hapan wine and enjoy the show.” he pointed to a human who began to draw attention. Kl'aal bared his fangs in a wolfish imitation of a human grin "Isn't that Armand over there? What does he think he's doing?" he asked as he looked at the Human get up and give the slaves a free break, then apparently saunter over to another Human, this one savage looking and feral.

Waving at one of the slaves he growled softly to the dark skinned Human "Get me whatever the Chiss is having, and get him another." and then immediately dismissing the slave from his mind as he turned back to Kelkar.

 

[blstrgmr]

Armand would listen to Tamara, his face a mixture of curiosity and distorted and partially-hidden annoyance or rage. And somehow, even a dash of friendliness. It wasn't normal for that last aspect, but maybe he just sensed that he could relate to her. And he could, if he bothered to dig deep enough. "Oh you know, I just play psychologist with the ones who look like they need it or walk around with constant 'crazy eyes' like you do."

For whatever reason, even being a violent and pretty well-off criminal, Armand seemed to be something the lines of the "champion of the slaves". "Luck and fate aren't equivalent for everybody. Especially when people of our caliber are in charge of them, how are they supposed to get out? It's a vicious cycle." That'd be the most he'd put in on the subject. There were two kinds of people. Those who agreed with him, and those who didn't. Rarely did anybody's opinion ever change about the topic. To discuss it was tiring. "Secondly, you have to work with these people. A lot of times, they'll be covering you from afar with a high powered sniper rifle, so maybe you'd best start making nice before they decide to 'accidentally' miss the target."

As a server passed by with a tray full of assorted drinks, he dexterously snapped up a bottle of Corellian ale with his left hand and flicked the cap off and pulling it toward him.

"Armand Dreth. As for that other bit, I have no fracking clue. You've managed to make my blood boil quicker than anybody I've ever talked with. No...but that's too simple. There's something else in there. I don't have a damn word for it, but there's more to you than just this savage, brooding image you try to keep up." Even with all that said, he deeply felt like Tamara would do well with somebody smacking off that smug grin on her face. "Let's register for a job together. I'm probably the only one in the room who wouldn't mess with your style."

At about that time, the Compere was making a noise with his glass and calling for attention, it seemed. People seemed to quiet, and he could hear the Compere praise Mack about her performance, and apparently, promotion. "Yeah, Mack!" He'd be the first one to give a sort of cheer and hold his beer up before taking a draft of it.