Logged August 30, 2001
Logged by Joshua
Titled: Hiring Pirates 
******************************************************************************
 Characters:
  Joshua 
  Grale 
  Sa'Vath 
  Grayson 
  Lorrix 
  Nymadawa 
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DESCRIPTION
Joshua
    A powerfully built man whose eyes and smile belie the younger-looking 
physique. Averaging these two factors, a guess that he is somewhere in his mid 
to late twenties is close to accurate. His light brown hair is cut short on top, 
but the back still hangs down to just above the collar. The hazel eyes sparkle, 
but a careful observer might notice a sadness in them at the oddest moments. The 
edge of the cornea tint brown or green, depending upon his outlook. He's rather 
average in height, no more than 5 foot ten inches tall.
    Joshua is wearing a black, long-sleeved collar-less shirt that seems to 
stretch to fit him. Over the shirt, he usually is wearing a waist-length, tan 
jacket made of nerf-hide. The leather has been softened and darkened by age and 
wear. The jacket is rugged enough to withstand harsh elements, yet light enough 
not to be cumbersome. His black pants are in good condition, perhaps even 
recently purchased. They are tucked into a pair of black leather boots, made of 
the same soft nerf-hide his jacket is.

Grale
A common Ruurian, though slightly shorter than most. He comes to just 
under one and one half meters, though feathery orange antennae protrude a few 
centimeters higher than that. Eyes of red reflect hundreds of images at once 
upon their jagged surface and orange nostrils slightly darker in hue than his 
antennae lift and retract below that. Wool covers his insectoid body and coats 
his eight spindly arms, each ending in four grabbing digit (bearing also 
reddish-brown hairs).
Over his entire form he wears a brownish robe akin to a monk's with 
sleeves for each one of his limbs. Even a dark hood hangs upon the back of his 
would-be neck for rain, snow, cold, sand, or whatever might befall him (and you 
can see two antennae holes cut out).

Sa'Vath
Standing before you is a dark figure, he looks to be roughly 6 feet tall, 
and his face is darkly tanned with piercing hawk yellow eyes. His black hair is 
cut short and lays flat. As your gaze shifts downward he is wearing what appears 
to be polished black leather blast armor, the short sleeves are cuffed in 
silver. There is a fur cloak draped over the shoulder clasped with a broach made 
of silver with a "K" made of ruby inlaid jewels. His arms are well defined and 
tanned dark as his face, he wears black leather gloves that come up to the 
forearm. As your gaze continues downwards he is wearing a black leather belt 
with a black cylinder hanging from the belt. He is wearing black matte leather 
pants with black matte, calf high boots.

Lorrix
     She is tall and slender, her soft graceful curves are almost willowy and 
supple to the eyes. Her skin is a very pale tone and her hair is long and 
braided into a single tail, it is black as pitch. Her facial features are 
angular and deceptively soft, her eyes are emotionless and bright green. Her 
lips always seem to smile cruelly.
     She seems to be almost thirty years of age and her body is pleasing to 
look at, her skin is mostly flawless. She is moderately muscled with long 
graceful legs, that lead up to curving hips and waist. Her smooth tight tummy 
and moderately sized breasts, her long arms leading down to almost delicate 
hands.
     Lorrix is wearing a faded black, hooded long coat. It clings loosely to 
her body, and seem to cover the clothing that she wears beneath. A tight black 
shirt and faded gray utility pants with cargo pocket on the outside of her 
thighs. Her feet are shod in rugged leather boots that are buckled at the outer 
side. Around her waist she wears a utility belt with two small pouches and a 
holstered MerrSonn A7 stun gun, and over her shoulder is a slung BlasTech B-3 
Blaster rifle.

Smuggler's Cantina -- Coronet 
     The Smuggler's Cantina is known throughout Corellia as a place where only 
the extremely cautious dare to enter. The Cantina has a reputation of having 
some of the most rugged and dangerous patrons around; some may even be for hire 
for the right price. At this moment, the cantina is filled with many creatures, 
some humanoid, and some not. The air is filled with the haze and musky smoke 
expelled from various kinds of inhaled paraphernalia. A long bar is situated at 
the northeast corner with several stools before it, while booths are nestled 
like cubbyholes along the walls.

Joshua secures his blaster at the weapons locker, then turns about and heads for 
the bar. He doesn't like leaving his main sidearm in the care of another, but he 
has his backup - a vibro-knife in his boot. He hoped he wouldn't need it though. 
He was here to do business, not get into a brawl. Sidling up to the bar, he 
orders a whiskey, the moves away from the bar to find a table out of the way.

The air is stuffy and thick with smoke, along with the sometimes nearly toxic 
breaths of the creatures about. A low murmur hangs about the place as most 
around are too worried of getting their heads shot off should they raise their 
voice and say something that upsets a particularly brutal member of the crowd. 
So among all this tension and between all these egos, one of the strangest 
sights to see is the little Ruurian, Grale, come clicking upon his bottom pair 
of appendages through the doorway. His feathery antennae twitch about, grabbing 
signals, smelling smells, and hearing sounds, as he makes his cautious way 
toward the bar, as much of a smile on his face as his exoskeleton form can hold.

Lorrix was sitting at one of the tables near the back of the cantina talking 
with a man who appeared to be a Republic military technician, judging by his 
tool belt. For whatever reason, the man ups and leaves at a normal pace leaving 
Lorrix to her own devices. She picks up her glass of beer and sips form it as 
she rises and makes her way toward the bar.

Sa'Vath steps slowly into the bar, his black cloak hiding most of what he is 
wearing. His dark skin and smooth movements portray an elegance that comes with 
confidence. He makes his way through the crowd ignoring the weapons locker, he 
either carries no blaster or doesn't want to remove it. He steps up to the bar 
and orders a Corellian Ale. He drops a few creds and takes an empty seat at the 
bar.

Joshua finds an empty table where he can keep an eye on the door. The whiskey is 
half gone before he even gets comfortable. He tosses a quick glance to the 
bartender, raising an eyebrow questioningly. A shake of the head is all he gets 
in response. Joshua sighs irritably. Not even one decent pilot had been in 
looking for work. The local merchants and that Smuggler's guild were picking up 
all the best crewers. Where were the businesses getting all this money?

Grale says, "Good evening bartender." The insectoid Grale says in the native 
language of Corellian as he reaches the bar. He retracts his second left wiry 
hand into his flowing brown robe and pulls out a few credits. "Would you fetch 
for me a Gourbash Cider?" The fat bartender raises his eyebrows and lets out a 
sort of "Huh but nevertheless snatches the credits and goes to get the drink. As 
he waits the Ruurian spins about and surveys the scene his multi-faceted eyes 
reflect the bar many times over. "Where can I find this man." He murmurs to 
himself." in Corellian.

Lorrix finishes off the beer in front of her and slides the barkeep some 
credits. The barkeep pours the hunter another glass of the Corellian beer as she 
looks around the cantina at the new faces in the crowd. Inevitably her eyes 
catch sight of Sa'Vath. After a moment she shrugs her shoulders and puts it off 
as just a coincidence.

Grayson sits drink his Ale, not bothered by the company of the room. He 
occasionally glances around the room but doesn't seem to take much interest. He 
lets his cloak slide open revealing a smooth black cylinder. he shrugs his 
shoulders as if he is talking to himself.

Sa'Vath looks at the Guildmaster, wondering how he can flaunt such a gift. His 
demeanor seems to darken as if he had been slapped in the face, not only was 
this man displaying open contempt, but didn't even acknowledge his presence. The 
dark figure almost seems to grow in stature as he stands and walks to the 
Guildmaster's table.

Two beings in a booth back along the west wall suddenly rise to their feet. An 
argument ensues at which point, the human waves his hand as if to cut the 
Sullustan off in mid-sentence. His words can be heard throughout the bar. "No, 
deal's off. You're fired." At which point, the human stalks angrily out of the 
bar. The Sullustan reaches inside his jacket for a moment, and then realizes 
it'd be a waste of a blaster round. Not to mention he'd probably get shot by the 
bartender for carrying his blaster inside. Ultimately the Sullustan makes his 
way back to the bar, muttering something to the bartender.

Joshua watches the Sullustan stalk back to the bar, drink in one hand. As the 
Sullustan says something to the human, Joshua sees the bartender gesture towards 
his table. At last... maybe this one's a pilot, Joshua thinks as the Sullustan 
looks his way.

Lorrix sits quietly and sips her beer as she watches and listens to the 
activities that are taking place around the Cantina. Again she scans the crowds 
as if she were looking for someone, her gaze falling over a portion of those 
here this evening.

A sliding sound and a splash of a dark brown liquid splat on his head awakens 
Grale as the bartender walks away. "There's your drink, have a nice day." The 
man grumbles in a mocking tone. The Ruurian reaches up with his two top 
appendages and grabs the drink off the counter, it is now only three quarters 
full. He sips it as he scans the room again, just as the Sullustan bumps up next 
to him, and Grale murmurs "My apologies." But something in what the bartender 
says perks his antennae, and his red, highly-reflective eyes hone in on Joshua's 
table. Still sipping the Cider, he makes his way there. The individuals that 
pass him look down and laugh at the proper little being amidst the sea of 

scruffy, sleazy, maniacal faces that sip their drinks and look with squinting 
eyes across the room. Yet still, on the stern and hardly moveable face of the 
Ruurian, there is an air of confidence, the sort of knowing glances that project 
that these types are not a mystery or a fear to him, and just as approachable as 
any other. This is the distinct face he holds as he approaches Joshua. "Good 
evening." His squealy, insectoid voice says and stares up at him. "May I have a 
seat?" The question, though phrased as one, has hardly that intention as Grale 
climbs up into the chair opposite the gunner, grabbing multiple holds and nearly 
flinging himself up.

Joshua just stares as the one being he _didn't_ expect to saunter up to his 
table. Even the Sullustan looks disturbed and decides he'd rather have another 
drink than approach with the Ruurian at the table. As the being perches itself 
onto the chair, he raises his glass to his lips and takes a drink. He's not 
disturbed, but he was a bit surprised. That has faded now and in its place is 
curiosity. "If that's what you call it..." he says, nodding slowly. Sitting? 
Looked more like perching. "You looking for work, are ya?"

Emerging from the sorry excuse that serves as the place to answer nature's call 
for the female gender, Nymadawa tries to uncrinkle her nose and unflatten her 
ears. She's somewhat successful at the latter, even given the level of noise in 
the cantina, but not very good at the former. Something about a furry being 
sitting near the door Nym came through that would make a wet dog smell good. 
Going back to the bar area, she finds a vacant seat to slide into, and another 
drink is made and passed her way.

"Yes!" Grale says almost dismissedly and too, takes a sip of the blue liquid 
held between his spindly hands. Meanwhile, the feathery antennae upon his head 
twitch and scan. A small cloud of blue smoke hovers by him, and this time, his 
antennae act as fans, quickly swishing the pollution away. "Stuffy in here isn't 
it?" He says in response, perhaps he did notice, the smoke or perhaps he merely 
noticed the sensation his antennae gathered while he sipped, such are the 
blessings of the Ruurian. "Yes!" He continues as he adjusts his seat, balancing 
merely on the bottom of his thorax. "I am looking for a job and I hear you're 
the one to talk to. But before I commit to anything, I've got a couple questions 
about this operation, do you mind?"

Joshua snorts in surprise. That's twice in one day he's been surprised and by 
the same being. It's usually the employer that asks the questions, but Joshua 
decides to humor this one. If anything, it would make for an interesting story 
to tell back in the lounge aboard ship tonight. Placing his empty glass onto the 
table, he lifts a finger to the bartender who pours another whiskey and has a 
server bring it over to the table while the Ruurian speaks.

Sipping her drink, Nymadawa also manages to obtain a plate of munchies from the 
bartender, perhaps amazingly enough. Then she sits there, looking quite content 
to kill time. Only the occasional too-much-of-a-coincidence-to-be-one twitches 
of her ears towards interesting conversations betrays that she's doing anything 
but. Absently, her tail twitches about at random, the movements sending the 
occasional burst of Cathar fur floating through the air. (Cat fur is a 
condiment!)

Cocking his head up and searching the ceiling for his questions, the Ruurian 
begins. "Firstly I must know what the plans are..." But he cuts off short, 
suddenly tense. His eyes need not move to scan the room, but the protruding orbs 
gather information from all across while he yet appears to be staring forward. 
"What languages do you speak? Ishi Tibian? Mandalorian? Mon Calamari? Ruurian? 
Perhaps Basic or Corellian are not the dialects of choice when the walls have so 
many..." another pause, and his conscious scans the room. "...ears."

Lorrix glances over at felinoid who slid onto the barstool beside her and smiles 
faintly. She breaks the ice by asking, "You're a Trianni right?" Of course not, 
but Lorrix was never big on exactly what differentiated all of the known races 
in the Galaxy. "Are you sick or something? It's nasty in there, and you stayed 
quite a long time..."

Joshua furrows his brow to the Ruurian. Certainly the insectoid creature didn't 
expect to learn details of the Dragons' activities in the middle of a bar, even 
in another language. "Well, I tell you what... all I can say is that our ship 
needs crewers. We hire our services out to local governments, merchant leagues 
and independents, helping them to get their cargos delivered safely." He jerks a 
thumb over his shoulder, as if to point somewhere. Unfortunately, it's just the 
opposite of where he wanted to point - toward the Merchant's Guild. "We're not 
affiliated with any guilds or associations. We're independent contractors..." He 
leans forward, both hands around his full glass of whiskey. "What kind of skills 
do you have?" It was about time for him to take control of this and find out if 
the Ruurian really needed work or if he just planned to occupy Joshua's time 
long enough to get a confession out of him as to the true nature of his group.

Nymadawa raises an eyebrow, and shakes her head at Lorrix. "No, I am a Catharr," 
she says with a small grin. Or is it grimace? Hard to tell with her facial 
expressions. "We arre perrhapss disstant coussinss of the Trrianii." Another sip 
of drink is taken, then she chuckles at the next question. "If you can figurre 
out the plumbing of a new place meant to handle all kinds of speciess in a 
sshorrt perriod of time... that, and you know, the line for the women'ss sside 
iss alwayss longerr than forr the males." A rolling of her eyes follows this.

Lorrix chuckles softly and nods her head, "I wouldn't know if the lines are 
longer, the Male's latrine is a place that I will only visit if there is a large 
amount of money at stake." She pauses and asks softly, "Do you live around 
here... It's a nice place but dreadfully boring. The City is so nice and clean, 
nothing like Nar Belsa... There you don't go outside in the darkest hours unless 
you've got a weapon of some sort..."

Leaning back and relaxing his free arms, Grale lets out a sigh, though the rise 
and fall of the respiratory system that covers his entire body is hardly 
noticeable. Before speaking, he claps his empty glass upon the table, making no 
motion for another. "I am Grale Gneshtip...In case you wanted to know." He 
begins and leans back forward, folding his second pair of digits on the table 
and using the first pair to gesture. "I am a historian/scholar/philosopher with 
background in mechanicry for the Republic. If you need a translator, I can be 
him...if you need a diplomat, I can be him...if you need information on a planet 
or species, and the history of each, I can provide you with these things but 
what I wish to know from you is..." he says, his squealy voice lowering and his 
antennae twitching back and forth suspiciously, "...where do you plan to go? To 
what sort of people do you plan to sm..." The word dances in his mouth for a 
moment before he decides otherwise. "...associate? Are we dealing with hostile 
peoples? Empires? The Republic. Exactly /to whom/ will this...association be 
pitted /against/." It seems he has gathered more from the gunners words than 
what came out of his mouth.

Chuckling softly, Nymadawa contributes: "Orr if the women'ss sside is clossed 
forr cleaning... at leasst with my sspeciess, it'ss a bit harrderr to tell male 
frrom female." A sip of drink, a nibble of munchies, then she shakes her head at 
Lorrix. "A trravlerr, vissiting the arrea on a merre whim." At the mention of 
Nar Belsa, the Cathar grins. "Ah, sso you arre frrom therre, orr currently live 
therre? It hass been quite ssome time ssince I've vissited. I sshould go again, 
ssee what hass changed."

Lorrix nods her head slowly in response to Nymadawa's question, "Yes... I'm 
living there right now, but that isn't where I'm from... That place is far, far 
away... At least Nar Belsa is close to where my main employer is located, so 
there are advantages..."there are advantages..."

Joshua stares at the Ruurian for several moments, back playing what he had said 
to Grale. The being seemed to gather a lot of information from what little he 
told him. After a moment, he nods. "Well, that is always up to who pays us. Or 
where the best work can be found." He raises an eyebrow. "A brain, huh? Well, it 
would be different having someone with some intelligence along. I'll have to 
talk the Captain, of course..." Joshua watches the insectoid for several more 
moments. "You have any allegiances I should know about, Grale?" he asks, not 
even bothering to try the last name. "Like to CorSec or Republic Intelligence?"

Nymadawa nods slowly, and grins a bit. "Ah, sso I ssee." And perhaps she does, 
or maybe she's just making conversation. Leaning back a bit, she stretches out 
her legs slightly, foot talons (can't call those things toenails) scraping 
gently against the side of the bar. "And, if yourr job rrequirress lotss of 
trraveling, that iss alsso a good place to be sstationed at." Her ears flick a 
bit at a conversation nearby, but it's directed towards a pair of beings that 
look like a distorted cousin of the Mon Calamari.

"Who might the captain be?" Grale says immediately, without bothering about 
allegiances. A red digit covered in orange-brown fur taps the table with a 
*click* *click* sound. "And as far as intelligence goes I am among the top minds 
of my species, who have been recognized to be among the top minds of the 
galaxy." A sneer resides in his voice. "And if you are the employer, why are you 
not also the captain? I don't wish to brag except to say that any captain not 
willing to hire one of such minds as the one that resides beneath my antennae, 
is hardly a captain at all." His words are said in the sort of matter-of-fact, 
take it or leave it tone, which he accentuates by leaning into his chair and 
crossing all three sets of his arms, the bottom set being used for balance.

Lorrix smiles faintly and nods her head, "Yes... Of course moving about on those 
accursed public shuttles is something that I will have to alleviate... That 
would require a ship, though I'm certain that I cannot afford one with all of 
the money I just spent on the 'side job'..." She sighs and says, "Though I 
should be getting quite a bit of money from the last service that I performed. 
Perhaps I will set that aside."

"Orr," Nymadawa points out, "Perrhapss you could find a few people you trrusst 
who have shipss, and arre willing to let you be a passsengerr in rreturrn forr a 
sserrvice of ssomessorrt?" A small shrug follows. "Not alwayss the mosst 
convient, asss one hass to be arround at the time you arre, and arre going the 
way you need to go, but if you arre lucky enough to not need to be ssomewherre 
sspecific at a sspecific time..."sspecific at a sspecific time..."

"The Captain?" Joshua looks across at the insectoid being across from him. "The 
Captain ... is sleeping. As for hiring you, Grale, I'm not too certain I want 
someone onboard the ship that might belong to a government enforcement agency. 
He waves the concern away after a moment though. "But even if I overlook that 
... how can I know you're as intelligent as you say you are? I mean, you are 
hanging out in one of the seediest bars this side of Coronet City. An 
intelligent one like you should be up on government hill, debating politics with 
the government officials up there...What are you really doing down here?" His 
voice is low now, expecting his interviewee to lower his voice too as they seem 
to be keeping attention from curious onlookers that he wished they hadn't gotten 
in the first place.

Lorrix shakes her head and says, "No... That is performing a service in order to 
perform another task. There are pilots who work for my employer... And I'm 
certain that they could be used, though the payment would then need to be split. 
I think that I will just need to bide my time and generate a profit in the 
meantime."

Nymadawa considers that, and then shrugs. "But, it would be an option, 
esspically if avoiding public trranssporrtation iss ssomthing you dessirre." 
Polishing off her drink, Nymadawa sighs a bit. "And public trranssporrtation iss 
ssomething I musst find now, I'm afrraid. Therre arre a few thingss I need to do 
herre, even if I am herre on a whim." Politely, she inclines her head to Lorrix.

The Ruurian, though sensing the wish for a lowered tone, does quite the opposite 
and raises his voice. "Sleeping is he?" squeals Grale, and lets out a veracious 
laugh. "Some captain to be sleeping in the midst of the day, when employment in 
his agency seem so...dire." A wry smile cocks on the side of his slit of a mouth 
and he leans in closer, now lowering his tone as all the creatures on this side 
of the bar are looking at them. "And as for allegiances I have none, except to 
say that I once worked for the Republic...but I found them to be a bit 
too...oppressing." His whisper is low, nearly a whispering breath. 

"And as for being here, I've grown tired of the worthless sniveling and 
scrounging of the politicians. Many a year I've spent in their halls, and many 
an politician I forced down from delusions of grandeur." Then Grale pauses and 
takes a long intake of breath, his orange nostrils flaring as his face moves 
closer across the table toward Joshua. "You may believe me or not...it doesn't 
matter. Administer me a test of wits, I shall pass it...What it comes down to is 
that your operation not only will want me more once you have seen my potential, 
but you will need me." For many moments he remains, close to Joshua's face, his 
nostrils flaring in and out. Just as the tension mounds, he lets out a squealy 
laugh. "But let us just drink on it and call it signed! And I shall be a great 
help to you! I assure it." His tone is no longer one of a braggart, but one of a 
friend, a tone far more common to his mouth. Already he has signaled a waiter to 
bring drinks.

Lorrix finishes up her beer and slowly rises to her feet. Across the cantina, 
she walks through the crowds toward the door and the nearby weapons locker. She 
opens the door and retrieves a Blaster rifle and pistol in addition to a small 
stun pistol... What would be considered in some places to be a veritable 
arsenal. She takes her things and situates them upon her person and begins to 
move out of the building.

Joshua is amused, to say the least. Even with the Ruurian in his face, he 
doesn't flinch, wondering how far the being will go before he answers the 
questions Joshua is asking. He finally does and once he removes himself from in 
front of Ashton, the human nods slowly. "Very well... I think we can work 
something out." He lifts his own drink, "Got one, thanks... tell you what. You 
meet me back here in two days. If you're still up for a haul, we'll take you 
along. If you work out, great. If not, you'll catch a ride home from wherever we 
end up." He takes a drink of his whiskey as if that seals the deal.

"Wonderful!" Grale says and snatches a shot of some little tan beverage from the 
waiter's tray. He holds it up with his highest arm and the drink shines in the 
lamplight. "As Meanish Jerub said, 'The wise see the ways of the wise in the way 
the wise walks, while the foolish merely take a fool by his word." And the 
empties the glass into this mouth. "You have made a wise decision my friend." He 
says, setting the glass onto the table and hopping off his chair. "And it shall 
not disappoint you, I assure." A right appendage is extended as a token of 
friendship, then he turns and disappears quickly out the door.

Joshua places his drink back onto the table as the Ruurian fades from view. Well 
now, /that/ was interesting. He snorts to himself, then looks over to the bar 
where the Sullustan still sits. He lifts an arm, gesturing the little being over 
to his table. Time to interview another applicant.

END OF LOG