Roche: Asteroid 761-Echo

[Rane DeCola]

The unmarked and somewhat nondescript freighter dropped out of hyperspace along the Perlemian Trade Route. The captain signaled to the mate that it was time to drop off their ‘cargo’ at the pre-appointed destination. The mate was all too happy to oblige the captain this time. He didn’t much care for carrying ‘cargo’ of this kind. While inconspicuous, such cargos were known carry other unknowns and the mate was ready to put this job behind him.
-----
A pound of the bulkhead woke Rane DeCola from his sleep.

“Hey you, we’re docking now and you can transfer to the tender. From there, you’ll be able to make it to your final destination.”

“Great, thanks.”

“We’ll be needing that payment now.”

Rane reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small credit voucher and tosses it to the mate. “This should be enough to take care of your troubles.”

The mate acknowledges the human’s payment and leaves Rane DeCola to prepare for the next and hopefully final leg of his journey.
-----
Several hours later, Rane takes a seat atThe Buzz. The small establishment is nothing more than a small bar with a couple of tables and some chairs carved into part of Asteroid 761-Echo. The air is stagnant, and even considering that it is early in the evening by local time, the small haunt is already starting to attract a crowd.

The Verpine bar tender saunters over to Rane as he sits. There aren’t usually too many human visitors to this part of Roche, much less to The Buzz.

“What’ll it beeeeeee?," the Verpine asks Rane.

“An ale. Nothing special.”

The Verpine shook his head. “That willlll beeeeeee fiiive creditssss”.

Reaching once again into his pocket, Rane pulls another credit voucher out of it along with a small cylinder and sets the payment on the bar. The Verpine looks at the small cylinder inquisitively, and takes it along with the credits. Before he can turn, Rane reaches across the bar and grabs the Verpine by the arm.

“Hold on just a minute there. The credits are for you, but I was told to deliver the cylinder here for a Master Buggie. I was told by a friend that you would know how to get it to him.”

[Rane DeCola]

The bar tender quickly forces the cylinder back into his hand.

"Heeee's not heeeeere."

"Well, that doesn't help me now does it."

"I suppoooose it does noooot."

Rane looks around. While he is no expert at trying to read Verpine facial expressions or verbal intonations, he knows that the bar tender is nervous for some reason.

Is someone watching? The bar tender knows something. Is Master Buggie here and does he not want to be seen?

Rane had never seen Master Buggie before, and quite honestly wouldn't likely be able to tell one Verpine from the next in most cases. His trip to Asteroid 761-Echo is turning out to be another dead end.

"Alright. I guess I'll suppose then that you hurry up with that ale that I've already paid for."

The Verpine shook his head and grabbed a glass and pours a light colored amber beverage into the glass from a tap mounted behind the bar's counter.

May as well make the best of things while I figure out my next move.

[Professor Mors]

The squeaking of polished boots pierced the muted whispers of the cantina, and several heads turned as a finely dressed individual and his escorts strode onto the scene. Captain Doren Vassyl had not been in the Roche System for very long, and yet, the various diplomatic proceedings had left him parched and very want for a moment's reprieve. Thankfully, one of the indentured Verpine that had served as a tour guide of sorts was kind enough to point Vassyl in the direction of this establishment. Kinder still were Doren's Sith hosts, who were unexpectedly receptive to the Captain's weariness. Indeed, ever since Vassyl's arrival, his time had been utterly consumed by talks with various Sith bureaucrats and their various economic minions.

Asteroid 761-Echo was widely renowned for its mining industry and rich minerals deposits. Doren business was, in contrast, much more concentrated on the potential for Verpine production than extraction. Vassyl, as well as some more influential members of High Command held a personal interest in the unique properties of the insectoids' weaponry, and, given the Sith armistice, the time seemed ripe for investment. Whereas the Empire had once considered wresting the asteroids from then-hostile Sith influence, now, a peaceful, perhaps even profitable arrangement was at hand. All hopes aside, the finer details of such a deal were still in desperate need of refining, and it was hardly a task for one officer-turned-diplomat to handle alone.

Coming to a stop just in few feet from the bar's entryway, Vassyl bid his two companions to stay by the door and watch for trouble. Though both showed some hesitation at the command, the troopers ultimately resigned themselves to their new posts. Held firm under an even tighter thumb than what the Empire could have achieved through their doctrine, the Sith had succeeded in spurring the locals to revolt from time to time, only to meet their resistance with horrific reprisals. As an Imperial Emissary simply standing by in collaboration, Doren might well become a target if he wasn't careful. Approaching the main counter, Vassyl seated himself a few feet away from another human. Trusting that one of his species might have a better sense of what their biology could afford, Doren waved down the bartender, shifted his shoulder towards the stranger, and softly requested, "One of whatever he's having, please".

[Slade Xandir]

It hadn't been too long since the Sith Lord and his accomplices had come and conquered what little mess had come to Roche. In fact, as that body of inky onyx orbalisk-covered scale and muscle stepped from the environment-transition tunnel, his mind began the replay of the attempted madness Neive and Rhoden had gone out of their way to commit. How he was in his regular and original body, made of human flesh of tanned but Alderaanian variety, hair of silky black and just longer than where it met his toned shoulders, chiseled face with startling golden eyes. He was a man of handsome stock, with a tongue of silver. But that was then, and this was now. And the now was what mattered to the draconian, the man of lead within the Sith. Another thing which mattered to the Sith Lord was meeting Doren in this establishment, and discussing a few plans Prazitus had relinquished to him.

Thereafter, he passed through the facilities, being careful to follow the clear areas marked for non-verpine personel who couldn't endure the frigid vacuum of space touch. The 7 foot Dragon King walked past the curious and slightly frightful audience of onlookers who peered either up at the massive horned man, or watched the flow of his garments, the only things being the glistening gold and ruby chainmail that lined the upperhalf of his torso ornamentally in a display of regality, and a dual loincloth that was tailored for the front to be just an inch above the floor, where the back cloth flowed it's blood-hued length across the top of his thickly spiked and scaled tail.

He came across the front of the bar, pruning the letters apart with darkly set back irises of molten yellow, and walking in, he immediately sought Doren.

[Rane DeCola]

Rane is about half way through his rather tall pour of beer when Doren sits down at the bar.

“That’d be the ale. Just the local stuff, nothing special,” he replies in response to Doren’s request for a drink. “Dressed the way you are, I would think that you could afford the best of whatever they keep for sale in this place.”

Rane turns and looks at Doren. The impeccably dressed man definitely seemed somewhat out of place in the small hole in the wall watering hole. Rane is not looking for trouble. He spends a moment sizing up Doren. He is sure the man can likely handle himself, but Rane has not neglected to notice that the man did not travel alone.

Not wanting to linger, Rane drinks down the rest of his beverage and looks back across the room toward the door. It is at this point that he sees a very tall humanoid enter and look across the room at Doren.

“Not that it’s any of my business, but were you expecting company? I think someone over by the door seems to be looking for you,” Rane says as he turns back toward Doren. With the entry of the newest visitor to the establishment, the somewhat crowded and loud room takes on a hushed tone.

“Well, if you were expecting company, let’s just say your acquaintance is quite the buzz kill.” Realizing that getting up and leaving now would likely be highly suspicious, Rane motions to the bar tender, “another ale if you please.”

[Professor Mors]

"You might be right", Vassyl admitted, gingerly accepting an ale from the increasingly nervous barkeep, "I'm not looking for anything too fancy today though; not while on call anyways". The Captain could handle some liquor, but he was no alcoholic. Hard drinks were reserved for holidays, or particularly long and arduous tours that wore on Doren's spirit. Giving the stranger a conscious look-over, Vassyl could not shake the feeling that they had met somewhere before. Or maybe, it was some sort of Deju Vu? Nonetheless, try as he might, Doren could make no definite identification, and resigned himself to a few casually sips of the beverage. It was more acrid than the young officer had anticipated, yet the fruitlike tang that came with it was worth the contrast.

Vassyl might well have been nearing a pleasant high, when the stranger alerted him to a new presence entering on the scene: a presence Doren knew too well. In moments, the Captain turned some three shades paler, and nodded over to the helpless bystander, whispering not all that softly, "I suggest you keep your head down: the more subtle, the better". Practically leaping out of his seat, Vassyl hurriedly straightened his tunic up as best he could, before offering a slight, courteous nod to the arriving Sith leader, "Your Lordship, forgive my rudeness for not greeting you first and foremost: I was unaware you were in the system". That was an honest concession. It was one of Warvanus' retainers that had summoned the Imperial Emissary here, though not it would seem that had provoked this discourteous slight.

[Kell Sangros]

Having felt an urging through the Force, the War-bringer had thought to visit the Roche asteroid belt. Last time he had been here the Imperials were not allies, it had come to his attention through one of his operatives Krieger it had been that the Imperials requested permission to come to this place. Warvanus had granted it as a show of good will towards their Imperial friends. Afterall he had worked with one of the Imperial commanders on a few supply raids that had been successful. He had dressed simply, keeping a hood over his face, and using the Force Mask technique he drew his presence, his true nature inward. He knew nobody would be able to sense his presence, with the exception of his Master, whom he felt near, he was not masking himself to conceal himself from his Master, but to not draw unwanted attention, the fact that the Dark Lord himself and his chosen apprentice were in close proximity was not tactfully wise

Warvanus wanted to see what was causing the stirring he felt in the Force. He had his apprentice Kinta Vetasa and members of the Dawn Patrol on standby should he require assistance. He had slipped in unnoticed and took a seat at the table in the back observing , there he nursed his drink and observed.

[Slade Xandir]

Knowing the second he inhaled what he did of the Force from within the room, Blood could taste the plethora of scents that danced within the hazed confines of the cantina. First and foremost, the slight curiosity which rounded past his outer hull, several pairs of eyes and orbs alike upon him. But he paid no mind to them; his gaze was upon the Captain. As he made his way towards the uniformed ally, Blood also felt the closeness of his Apprentice, the one he had first heralded into his legacy. Warvanus, a man whom none had ideally thought would prosper in the House of Tormentous prospered in the House of Blood all too well. Tormentous had given Warvanus the land which to lay, where Blood had given him water, food, shelter from the elements. And it was evident from the longevity and potency of the War Bringer that he was doing well under Blood's hand. A knowing swell of Force lightly graced the mind of his first Associate, Acolyte, Apprentice, familiar and understanding the desire to remain unknown within the noisy environment. Blood let the raven-haired man be where he was, undisturbed.

"It'sssss no bother, Captain," Blood curved the flattery away with reassurance. As to why he wanted to reassure the Imperial was more or less on the fringe of keeping business unknown to potential listening parties. The low rumble of baritones once again rolled from the thick serpentine tongue to the dapper fellow. "There is something I'd like to speak to you about, however," the unintentional growl roiled from the deep 'r's. "But we will address it in a more convenient time." It dealt with a couple of the members of his faction, and a few contingency plans had anything arose of precautionary levels. "How have you been? Vile enough to have a tasssste for Verpine fungus?" The attempt for small talk was slightly unlike him, and though he wasn't attempting to feign a cover, he did desire for his business partner to feel atleast a slight bit less formal or uptight in his horrid presence. Gesturing back to the seat the Imperial once occupied with a clawed hand, he gave the Captain his oppertunity to resume sitting.

Blood considered bringing Warvanus from his seclusion, but he knew the man was most comfortable in a solitary place. He was pleased the man was nearby in case to watch for any arising riots that could have broken the slight peace they had going, currently. So the Sithian decided to let him be.

[Rane DeCola]

The bar tender hurries back and sets another beer down on the bar in front of Rane. Rane picks up the drink from the bar and take a few long sips. For the briefest of moments, he notices that the man whom he had been conversing with had looked him over, likely sizing him up. Rane is unarmed and while is more comfortable than most are concerned with the occasional bar brawl, the character that had entered and approached the man did not seem like the type to be taken lightly. This was further reinforced by the way the man sitting beside him had addressed the newcomer as 'your Lordship'.

Unsure of what to do at the moment as the man had advised that he keep his head down and maintain a low profile, Rane decides to sit casually while finishing his beer, and mind his own business.

Perhaps things might get interesting and play out in his favor after all.

[Professor Mors]

Vassyl smiled in spite of himself. The Dread Lord was, for all intents and purposes, attempting to use a colloquialism. Never in a millennia did Doren ever expect a Sith to have a sense of humor, and yet, here they were. Indeed, whereas most would have simply disregard one of Blood's Order as a mindless fanatic, it would be a misstep to divorce faith from culture. While the Empire was not beholden to abide by their religion, the Captain at least appreciated his host's attempt to diffuse diplomatic tension. "It really isn't so bad", Doren began, lifting the glass emphatically, "Many of the traditional spirits on my homeworld tend to lean toward the sweeter side, not unlike this brew". Granted, the sourness was somewhat of a new experience.

Returning his beverage to the counter, Vassyl grimaced as he contemplated how he would address Blood's original, honest inquiry. "I've been busier than usual I confess", Doren began, rolling his right shoulder some, as if to smooth out a bout of stiffness, "The rebels and pirates lay fallow, yet the Jedi have seemingly enacted a veritable espionage renaissance within and around our borders". Normally, saying that much might have been worth a court-martial, but the laws surrounding the scions of the Light Side were basically public knowledge, and so long as he did not give specific details, Vassyl had naught to fear. "They have proven difficult to uproot, though in time we will remind them who they are dealing with", the Captain concluded confidently, "And what about Your Lordship? What news from the Reach?".