Bankor

He;d have to stop coming here... It really was a rough neighborhood. for the second night in a row, Z made his way towards the Baz Cantina. Though this time his business was a bit more pedestrian. No illicit meetings with lovely women, at least not as far as he was aware.

He had hoped to make in it unscathed today, but no such luck. Not that it really mattered, a quick use of a stim had him feeling better. Striding up to the bar he nodded a greeting to the bartender, his eyes scanning the shelves. "Evening." He offered polietly.

hard stealth to get to the bar day 2 EN: 2eA+1eP+3eD 3 failures, 2 advantage


((4 wounds taken,then stimmed))

He'd heard the rumors about the neighborhood. He'd thought they were overstated. He was obviously wrong.

The man walked in slightly smoldering, approaching the bar. Surprisingly, it was secure.




Entering Baz Cantina D2 EN/ Hard Resilience: 3eA+3eD 0 successes, 2 threat


((OOC: 5 wounds ))

The stranger got a nod from where Z leaned against the bar. Even with most of the Mandolorians in retreat it was rough out there, and anyone that made the walk for a drink deserved a little respect.

Filo nodded back in response. Hopefully the drinks here were worth the walk. He wasn't sure if he recognized the man, but the fact he wasn't shooting at him meant he wasn't an enemy, most likely.

"Know what's good here?"

The bartender is pouring some local vodka and looks up at the new customers and said, “What are you drinking, we got Uza, brew it local, and some beer. Or water, if you feel like pissing me off.”

In another corner a group of what looked like musicians were sitting in a booth one of them was tuning their hydro-gutiar and looked up at the bartender and said, “Oy, get this lot some Uza, don’t serve em’ that trash you call beer.” He's a cathar surrounded by Zabrak rockers, a rather odd look.

"Looks like Uza is the drink of choice then." Z replied, if it was what the locals were drinking it couldn't be half bad. "Unless you have some decent whiskey."

Bartender replied, "We ain't had whiskey in half a year, so Uza it is. 3 Creds a glass."

Z slid the credits onto the table along with an extra, up front payment was generally the rule in places like this.

"No whiskey? That's too bad." There was a moment's pause as he reached a hand up to scratch at his beard. "Though, if you're intrested I might be able to help you out with that."

He rubbed the bar and said, "Oh yeah, what're you selling, stranger?"

"Corellian whiskey." Z replied, reaching slowly into his jacket and fetching a flask. He'd place in on the bar top and motion for the bartender to help himself. "Its no Whyren's Reserve but it's solid stuff."

"Not bad, I am guessing you have a sales pitch or price?" he asked continuing to wipe down the bar.

It was a subtle, signal a one that most likely never even noticed, but the owner should be long accustomed to it. Z had noticed the proper marking outside the building after all. "Well, honestly I was hoping to discuss the details in the back. No reason to let your patrons know what you paid for it."

((Activating black market contacts))

He nodded and gestured for another zabrak to watch the bar while the two retire to his backroom, where he slides a barrel aside revealing some stairs to a backroom. There are two Zabrak here with a cache of weapons, illegal.. restricted military grade gear, and well a variety of things that are expensive and worthwhile.

"Well, it seems we're in business." Z said with a pleased look at all of the gear. His eyes drifting back to the owner. "Price wise, I was hoping for 35 a bottle." He offered after a few moments. "Expensive I know, but in all likelihood you'll be one of the only bars in the city with it. So what you can charge for it is yours to decide. My supply is twenty bottles, though I can probably get my hands on another twenty if you're interested., and just so you know I am open for negotiation, and alternate means of payment."

"How about 10 for 300 credits, savvy?" the Zabrak bartender says taking a seat on a stool.

"Sounds reasonable, though I'd be truly happy if you could include a name." He lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm new in town and need to get a hold of someone who can buy in sell information."

"Baltrosk, most just call me Bal or Ol' Bal, been here a long time," he said honestly pulling a credit chit. "I know a few people but there has been a new player being whispered about, not sure what to think of it."

"A pleasure to do business Bal." Z replied, waving off the initial offer of the Credits. "I won't take payment until the goods are delivered, if that's okay by you. You can send some of your boy's by or I can bring them by early tomorrow. Your choice."

"New players, and all this ruckus usually doesn't mean anything good." Z mused, though he had a idea of who it might be. "If you're willing to part with the name of someone reliable, and the new guy. I'd be happy to pay for it. As long as it's reasonable."

“I don’t know him but the Clever Man has been stealing some of my good business not sure who that is, but they seem to be well connected. As for reliable people, it really depends on the work or business you need doing. If it’s information… there is a slicer, odd one works out of Rygor, call Juvee. Never met them but have done work with them,” he said.

"I'm not surprised to hear that name." Zane replied with a shake of his head, it did mean the clever man had quite a bit of gall though. doing business in a shop run by one of his competitors. "Thanks for the name, I'll look him up. Honestly I was hoping to hear some juicy details of some of the action last night though."

"Would this Juvee know about that stuff already?

"Probably, he likes to say he knows anything worth knowing on Bankor," he said.

"Thanks, I'll look him up." He smiled. "In the mean time I think I'll make a few purchases."

((would like to buy 2 Inferno Grenades, and a data dead drop if able. Book price 300, total would be 450 credits after times 1.5))

OOC: Done and done.

Aran had no desire to meet any Mandalorians alone in a dark alley at night, so he took to the rooftops as much as possible. He was sure his Masters would approve -- it was prudent, avoided confrontation, and relied on his training. He was just congratulating himself on this when a piece of bombed-out building proved less resilient than he had hoped, and he fell in to a pile of debris from a few meters up.

It could have been worse -- at least it was soft rubble. And he fancied that, even if it had slightly reopened some of his wounds from earlier, it gave him a seedy air that matched his destination. He knew the underworld... elsewhere. He wanted to know his footing here, in case it became of use to the mission. And if something adventurous ended up happening, well, that was the will of the Force.

The fellow members of Task Force Aurek Hawk might not immediately recognize Aran from around the base. He's taken no other effort to disguise himself, but done an excellent job of dressing down from his Jedi robes to Bankor street clothes and a swoop racer's leather jacket (which match his sunshades considerably better). That plus context may throw them off, or not. He smiles and gives them a small nod, bobbing his head to the harsh music, and bellies up to the bar.

Sneaking to the bar...: 2eP+1eB+3eD 0 successes, 3 advantage