When the Ithorian sauntered off track, Rehn groaned. "Ooh, it's a Zeltron," he said sarcastically. "You want one of those? You got one right here!" he exclaimed waving his free hand in front of the Ithorian's face. "See me? Yeah? Good. Cantina first, pleasure later."

As he steered the Ithorian around, he glanced back at the Zeltron woman. It had been a long time since he'd seen one of his own species around, and she wasn't hard on the eyes, either. But first things first: credits. "Let's go, Hammerhead. You can come back as soon as I'm paid every credit you owe me."

The Zeltron doctor does her best to keep her expression the same and resists the urge to hurl as the governor caresses her jaw with his disgusting finger. At that moment she wishes she hadn't approached the man. She doesn't turn as she hears the clip of boots behind her, instead her attention is suddenly diverted to the sight she sees behind the governor. Her carefully held expression suddenly turns into a look of surprise as she sees the Ithorian Jedi Historian and then her eyes close in dismay, her expression turning neutral once more. With a silent prayer she opens them quickly, hoping to get this taken care of before Oraltor was recognized by the governor.

Seeing the governor's fear she finally looks behind her to see the tall, fully adorned Mandalorian who she had never seen before. With only a moments hesitation, she reaches out to embrace the man affectionately. "Oh, darling! Sorry if I kept you, I hope your not too upset." Drawing away just a little, Jakira indicates the bulbous man in front of her with one hand while the other remains securely wrapped around the man's waist. "I was just speaking to the governor about getting the needed supplies for the clinic." In a lower voice almost a whisper she adds to the Mandalorian. "We seem to have reached a stalemate in our negotiations." She knows if the man follows along with the ruse she may have to pay him back for helping her, but he was hopefully a better prospect than the disgusting man who only wanted one thing from her.

(( Deception +10 ))

Callia claps his hands together several times as he surveys the outer facade of Thunner's Emporium, then he begins whistling while sauntering past the protocol droids to see what there is to see within.

His whistling soon develops a distinct tune, to which he suddenly puts an impromptu song. Callia's singing voice is surprisingly good, and rather gentle, though his lyrical sense may be a little off.

'Here power coupling,
Pretty power coupling,
Callia needs you to fix a ship.
I need one that fits,
And some other bits,
So we can all continue our trip.
Without you we'll 'splode,
and we'll frazzle our diodes,
And the hull will probably rip.'

Kurr chuckled and said, "Well good ... after what I've been through, I could use a good drink er three." Walking into the bar, he motioned Thunner towards a more private booth in a corner facing the door. Snagging a couple bottles of ebla beers, he slid into the booth and looked at the Besalisk. "So, what the grist ar' ya doin' on this krinkin' hole o' a planet?" Kurr grinned as he slid one of the beers to his friend. "And what's this sweet deal yar talkin' 'bout, Mate?" Popping his bottle open, he took a swig, waiting to hear of any news, and occasionally sneaking a look to the door ... just in case.

Al'verde has to keep himself from laughing when he saw the governor's reaction. It was one of the many perks to being a Mandalorian with his status. Not only did he have the Mandalorian armor but he had the heavy armor, with modifications that make lesser Mandalorians think twice about starting anything with him. Just as he was about to say something just to get a small reaction out of the man the woman wrapped her arms around him and held him as if he was her lover. This threw him off at first, as he did not remember ever finding a woman that could deal with him for more than fifteen minutes. He looked down at the woman as she spoke to him "Oh, darling! Sorry if I kept you, I hope your not too upset."...Darling!?!?...DARLING?!?!?! What in the hell has this woman been drinking?!? he though. He brought one of his large arms up and placed it on her shoulder and was about to push her away when he heard her say something about a clinic. Despite the slight buzz he had from his drink that word clicked, he knew Wes needed some medical attention and if he did a favor for this woman she would owe him. His hand slowly slid down her back and around her waist. He took a breath and straightened up, proving that he was in fact six feet ten inches tall and was two hundred and eighty five pounds of muscle.

He looked at the governor and then back at the woman "Sorry I'm late. I just had to take care of some business that took a little longer than I planed. Anyways about the supplies." he said looking back at the governor "I'm sure we can come to some sort of...agreement" he said slowly, almost threating with the last part "and fairly quickly I hope. I have plans for us tonight." he added as he pulled her slightly closer to his side. "Now I'm sure an intelligent man such as yourself can come to an agreement with beautiful here." he said again in his slightly hostile yet firm tone.

(( Deception +2 to aid another. Persuasion +2 to intimidate and using force point, also the Beskar'gam armor grant me favorable circumstances to intimate. ))

Wes entered the bazaar right behind Callia and Jasper. If one was looking for anything here this was the place to find it. Food, clothing, jewelry. Although not overtly noticeable there was a certain sense of caution in the air. Wes began to pay attention to the merchants. He quickly picked up on the fact that they were keeping tabs on the local Imperial troopers.

Wes looked at Callia. "Do you know what your looking for in this place?" It seemed that his question fell on deaf ears though Jasper did rotate once in his direction as if surprised that the Mando actually talked to its master. Shaking his head he simply followed though not before making sure that his carbine was ready to go as it hung between his arm and side.

Almost ahead of them he spotted the sign. 'Thunner's Cloud: Mechanics Emporium and Repair!'

"Interesting. If we find anything her I will be surprised." Almost instantly Callia broke out into song. Some little tune about a power coupling.

I should have stayed with the others and let him be on his own. Then again he is the only ships mechanic we have right now.

He continued to walk along right behind the odd little man as he walked the isles. If any vendor got to pushy Wes made sure to make it knows that he was with Callia. Someone had to watch out for him.

Every electronic odd and end assails the senses as Wes and Callia enter the emporium. Flashing diodes, blinking indicator lights, and sparks are found in plentiful supply, and everything has a blinking price tag of some sort or another.

As the mad doctor begins his song, oddly enough many of the droids and mechanical bits in the store begin to join in, providing a chorus that's almost in complete harmony with Callia's tune. When the song trails off there's a round of beeping-clanking-shuddering applause, then all of the collective devices return to their varied states of self-prostitution.

It is during this weird display that one of the protocol droids steps into Wes's path.

"Excuse me sir, you seem like a well-armed man of discerning tastes! Could I interest you in the latest offerings from BlasTech? Perhaps a new beam emitter or power cycler? Can't have you running out of charge when dispatching your foes, can we?"

From the few glimpses Wes manages to get around the metallic nuisance, Callia has completely disappeared, although the Mandalorian catches a faint plea of, "Wait master, wait! Oh please master, wait for me!"

*******************************************************************************

The Power Surge's interior looks like any number of spacer cantina's the Pirate has been to throughout his illustrious career. Dingy, dimly lit, and filled with an ever-present haze of smoke, the Surge is sparsely populated at this hour. A handful of Hobben mill about, seeming dazed at such an alien structure marring their jungle world, while a few stormtroopers and Imperial officers idle about. A pair of cloaked figures speak in hushed tones in a darkened corner, but none really lift their attention to the Feeorin and the Besalisk as they enter and tromp over to their own booth.

"Y'see that tech shop on your way in? That's all me, I'm the only Kwazel Maw in this pond, and it's making me rich!"

The Besalisk takes a drink in each of his upper hands, while he still uses his lower hands to gesture wildly. His every invective if flecked with beer foam which showers Kurr at regular intervals.

"Got in when the Hobben were jus' lookin' to make their splash in the galaxy. Been supplyin'm with every scrap of blinky-bits I can get in here, and they pay me in fine goods and rubies the size o' a Rancor's nadgers! Even got maself a spacer junkyard floatin' around the planet's backside, with damn near every rig and wreck you ever seen in the last hunnerd years!"

Jach slams a beer mug down on the table at his good fortune, 'causing some heads to turn his way. The old scoundrel barely seems to notice as he continues, although he does lean into Kurr and lower his voice in a conspirator fashion.

"But Ol' Jach ain't selfish, always lookin' for a helpin' hand on the path to riches. I gots me a shipment of Solsian Deepwood I need delivered to a contact; stuff is becomin' the Nerf's knees in the high-fallutin' circles of the Galaxy. Problem is these new Sith-Imps are squeezin' every last drop out of these Hobbie-folk, includin' their commerce, and that means my pocket's takin' a mean pinch!"

Taking a look around, Jach surreptitiously slides a datapad out of one of his many pockets, and pushes it across the table at Kurr. His voice lowers even further, sounding like a muted bee-buzzing to the Feeorin's ear.

"If someone were to git ma' shipment off planet and into ma friends hands, that someone would find themselves well compensated fer the troubles. Might even find themselves an even more lucrative deal at the oth' end; got some more friends comin' in here what desperately want their hands on some 'heavy machinery' if ya catch where I'm dustin'. Might ya be bein' that someone?"

*******************************************************************************

Governor Rothke shrinks away from the Mandalorian, taking a half step back away from the armored warrior. But as he does, he collides with his pair of elite troopers, and feeling them behind him he regains some of his composure.

"Yes... Uhm, well... D-do carry on. We'll continue our discussion some other time Jakira, I hope you both have an enjoyable evening..."

The look coming from the pudgy little gentleman is a mixture of extreme jealousy for Jakira, and a promise of a cruel death to Al'verde. He waddles off towards the administrative complex, sparing a few greedy glances back at the pair before he disappears further into the starport.

When the governor is fully out of sight, an Ithorian comes hustling up to Zeltron and the Mandalorian, flanked on one side by a woman (Nestil) that sniffs arrogantly about, and dragging another Zeltron (Rehn) on the other.

"Oh Jakira, I am so very glad to see you! Was that the governor? I hope he doesn't cause any trouble, particularly any cheese related trouble! I see you've met one of my new friends, I have so very much to tell you!"

The scatterbrained Ithorian is babbling all over the place in his exuberance, using the full breadth of all 4 of his throats as he doesn't pause to give Jakira a moment to respond. The other Zeltron appears to continually be attempting to interject, but doesn't seem to be able to get a word in edge-wise, while the woman stands with a look of long-suffering impatience.

The young Zeltron woman, still in the strange Mandalorian man's embrace, watches as the corpulent governor rounds the corner. "What an abhorrent, loathsome, revolting.... sleemo..." she says under her breath, each word coming out as a curse and a small pause as she works to describe the man's failings. Relief courses through her as she moves out of the man's embrace, she smiles at him and prepares herself for whatever favor the man is going to want for his assistance. Her words are however cut short as Oraltor cuts across the atrium to her.

As the words spill from his mouth in a large gush she takes him into a hug and starts talking over his own tirade, knowing full well she wouldn't get a word in otherwise. "Oraltor! You're back. How I've missed you! Yes, that's the governor," she draws away from the Ithoriain and pauses only a moment to look at her Ithorian friend's other companions. "Foul creature, doesn't even deserve to be called sentient. He's with you?" she says under her breath, and with the last motions toward Al'verde with a nudge of her head. "Anyways we should move out of such a public scene." she continues to listen to Oraltor but grabbing his arm, begins to steer him away to a more secluded and private venue. Giving the others a friendly smile as she leads the exuberant Ithorian away, she bobs with head that they should follow.

Kurr listened as he drank his beer, his eye whirring and clicking as he attempted to follow his associate's gestures. Once Thunner mentioned "compensated", a sly grin slide across the Feeorin's mouth. "Could be possible," he replied, attempting to slide the datapad within his grasp without anyone noticing. "'Course, th' question nae be 'If', but rather be 'how much creds' ... I believe yer on th' same page as me, eh, ya ole Kleeg?" Chuckling as he finished his beer, his mind wandered to the rest of his 'crew' and the idea of sneaking this past them. Kurr wasn't sure how'd he do it, but the prospect of earning decent creds with his own ship was indeed enticing.

Wes followed Callia and Jasper through the emporium. Truth be told nothing really caught the Mando's eye. For the moment he had all he needed. As Callia began to sing Wes moaned. The boy was of his pod racer. What was worse was he fact that many of the other mechanical...devices joined in.

"This is too much even for me." His voice sounded out in the throng of people. As if on que a protocol droid steps into his path of following Callia.

"Excuse me sir, you seem like a well-armed man of discerning tastes! Could I interest you in the latest offerings from BlasTech? Perhaps a new beam emitter or power cycler? Can't have you running out of charge when dispatching your foes, can we?"

"You're in my way." Wes said matter-of-fact to the droid as he looked passed it's head.

"Surely sir you need something in case your power pack runs dry." He tried to catch sight of Callia but boy had disappeared from sight but not hearing as he heard the faint cries from Jasper. "Wait master, wait! Oh please master, wait for me!"

As Wes pushed passed the droid he spoke. "If my power pack ran dry I'd just chase it down a pummel it into submission, like the last droid that stopped me." He caught a glimpse of Jasper and he headed for the droid. About about fifty steps later Wes came to a larger open area filled with vendors and masses of people. Looking around he saw nothing of Callia and Jasper.

"Karking hell." Knowing it would prove fruitless to go looking for him by himself the Mandalorian warrior turned and walked back to where he left the others.

He arrived just as they were getting ready to leave. Al was there with the female Zeltron, Nestil, the Itrorian and Rehn. He walked up beside Al. "That crazy boy ran off. I tried to follow him but by the time I thought I caught up he lost me in a large market. No idea where he went. Nor do I care at the moment. I need a drink and a place to rest. I'm still not fully recovered." He said as he shifted his carbine and looked around.

Al'verde watched as Governor Rothke walked away and just kept looking back at him as the governor's eye filled with hate He would flip if he knew what I was packing. Perhaps I'll show him if he comes back to give me any trouble...or if he sends his little friends. The thought made him chuckle Ke nu jurkad sha Mando'ade, burc'ya! he added with a small wave. As the strange woman slipped out of his grip he watched how she greeted Oraltor. He figured that having that connection would help with getting his brother patched up for free. He started to follow her, but that's when noticed that someone else was there. He almost turned with his weapons ready but then noticed it was Wes. He smiled as he wrapped his large arm around Wes's shoulder and laughed at his comment about losing the boy Su cuy'gar. Well vod that's why they invented mesh tape. Next time we see we can just tape him to my back. he laughed.

As he followed the others, almost forcing Wes to follow, he pointed out Jakira "You see that young woman there...she going to fix you up." he said almost like an older brother setting his younger brother up for a first date "After that I'll get us some drinks, you can get whatever you want." he pulled Wes in a bit closer so he could whisper You just may want to ask her first."

"Since I'm in such a givin' mood, I'll wet'cher whistle with five grand now and a full ten large upon successful delivery. That's damn near ten percent of my cut, I'm practically robbin' maself!"

Thunner punctuates his whispered talk with a loud smack of his prodigious belly, erupting in good-humored chuckling. Kurr's no rookie at this game, he knows that Thunner's likely shorting him for a good deal less than that ten percent, but that's still quite a few creds.

...Too many for a simple blue milk run. The Besalisk extends one of his stubby hands toward the pirate.

"If'n yer not interested, I've'a couple other prospectives lined up that'd love the work. We have an accord?"

*******************************************************************************

Oraltor allows himself to be dragged along by the good doctor, but just as rapidly as he speaks he halts in his advance and Jakira finds herself trying to pull on a stalled bantha for all the progress she makes.

"Oooh, I agree we need to speak in private, but I would prefer back at the hospital if we may. There a few... things I want do discuss, and some... stuff I want to check on. Oh! And there's an... item I have to secure first, pardon me a moment!"

The Ithorian's confiding eyestalk winks after each pause are exaggerated to the point of being comedic, even more so as the Jedi believes the facial expressions necessary to relay his subterfuge. If she doesn't let go of the Ithorian's coat, Jakira will find herself dragged along as Oraltor shuffles back towards the No Chance's docking bay and flags down one of the attendant droids.

After long wait and several boring moments of watching the Ithorian pace, a pair of landspeeder's about a century past their prime pull up before the group, and loaded into the back of one is a rather bulky crate that can't be anything else other than the oubliette. Oraltor comes hustling over from where he had hired the taxi service, and stands wheezing slightly from the effort of walking back and forth.

"I think all is in order now. Are we ready to depart?"

Kurr grinned in a sly, almost evil way. Fifteen large wuld make it a lot easier 'n life, it would, he thought, scratching his chin. An' th' crew might even b' interested in havin' some spare creds ... His eye clicked and whirred as he looked over Thunner. Awright, ya scurvy sod," Kurr said with a grin that showed his crusty teeth. "But lemme spice it up a bit, eh? Ya may b' able t' find othurs that'd be interested 'n doin' this job ... but none o' them er worth their salt, eh? How 'bout we make it an even twenty and I'll ensure that yar cargo will get t' port ... personally? Eh?" Kurr boldly extended his hand, waiting for the Besalisk to either shake it or spit in it. Either way, Kurr still had that wild look in his eye.

Using Charisma (+0) + Half Level (+2) = +2 to Bargain.

Promptly releasing the Ithorian when he begins to head back to the ship she sighs as he makes his exaggerated hints. She does follow him, however, curious as to what her scatterbrained friend had been up to. Finally unable to bear the abnormal silence any longer she asks, "What have you been up to?" Her curiosity only increases upon seeing the large crate. "Oraltor, darling! You brought me a present! You shouldn't have." she says with an elated sarcasm, taking a good look around the crate. "What is it?"

"...you just may want to ask her first." Al had pulled him in close so he could whisper. Wes chuckled as he looked the Zeltron over. Beautiful she was with out a doubt.

"Is she's a doctor I might just let her give me a complete physical." He said back to the big Mando in the same whisper.

As he began to walk away from the No Chance Wes watched as the Ithorian stopped in his tracks. Began to spout about needing something as he heads back to the ship. He followed the eccentric Jedi and the Zeltron Woman who name he heard a moment ago. Moments later he emerged from the ship with a large crate. Wes simply sighed as the sight of the obuliette. That thing is gong to haunt me. That and this Jedi prophecy that entails me.

When she inquired what it was the sarcasm was evident in her voice. Present indeed. He thought. More like a prison.

He turned his head to look at her. Her pretty face reflected in his helmet. "What is it you ask. It's what I was asleep in for the past hundred years." Without saying another word he turned back around and began to walk. "Yes Oraltor we're ready to go. Remember I still need to be checked over It's been a few years."