A) 1. We helped them in the first place for the reward/payment, after all (unless this is separate).
B) 2, unless that's being taken care of by Neema and/or Gek in the meantime anyway, in which case 3. I'm not opposed to 1, staying for dinner if he insists, but I've got a feeling we may end up saddled with Caer ourselves if not careful.
To put it into some context, a common blaster pistol is about 400 credits. Your medium transport cargo ship costs 140,000 credits. A basic meal costs about 5-10 credits, while a quality meal costs about 25+. Rough conversion puts it close to a dollar economy.
You accept Dall's payment and his invitation to dinner. Neema follows your lead and accompanies you. Gek is happy to skip dinner and mentions something about finding some place on this planet where he could get a good drink and pretty girl without having to deal with these flea-ridden dog-men.
"Honestly, why did we ever pick up that fat ass racist?" Neema whispers to you.
"Because he was only person on a backwater station who knew how to use a hydrospanner on a sublight engine array," you answer.
You and Neema are offered temporary rooms and facilities to wash up and change in. You shift into a clean suit of leathers, similarly stitched in a fashion that shows off your femininity, then join your host at a modest but elegant dinner table, set with four place settings.
Dall and the two of you sit making inconsequential small talk for sometime - mostly it is the old bothan regailing you with amusing anecdotes from his sector-spanning youth. A half hour past when you were served your first course, a youthful, auburn haired bothan enters the dining room, dressed in dirty mechanic's gear with an opened tan robe thrown over his shoulder to make him slightly presentable.
"At last. I was beginning to fear you had stood your own father up again. Something pressing hold you up?" Dall asked the newcomer, who must be Caer. The younger bothan looked at his father, then at you and Neema seated comfortably for a dinner, then took his seat with his eyebrows knitted and brow furled in slight consternation.
"Your message said that there was an emergency and that you were nearly killed. I thought I'd find you in the hospital, or the private clinic. I hardly expected you to be here with two females less than half your age." He adjusts his robes and then puts his hands in his lap, returning his stare at his father.
"The message was correct, but I myself was not terribly harmed, aside from financially. These young women are responsible for my continued breathing, some independent free traders coming from the outer rim. They happened to pass our derelict ship by after we were attacked by pirates."
"Wouldn't have happened to be a Trandoshan, would it?" Caer said evenly, not apparently surprised or particularly concerned by his father's harrowing experience.
"I-- why, yes it would have been. What have you heard?" Dall's long pointed ears perked up in interest.
"Only rumors down at the swoop track. But if what I heard is right, you might have had a run-in with Hassk, a mercenary pirate with some very powerful underworld connections. He's left a trail of trade ship wrecks across the Bothan Sector."
"Has the Imperial Governor heard of this, or is it only in the hands of our Spynet?"
Caer shrugged, indifferently. A serving droid wheeled in from the side of the room, bearing a plate of reheated food for Caer to pick up and place in front of him. He muttered a thank you to the droid, which beeped merrily and scooted back to the kitchens.
"Well," Dall continued. "I dare say, I shall have a message sent to them at once. They will care when I tell them that this Hassk and his backers are targeting civilian ships who supply other Imperial outposts."
"Maybe," Caer said, digging into his food and saying no more about it.
"So," you say, trying to involve yourself more in the conversation. "You're involved in swoop racing?"
"Yes," Caer said, his ears perking up immediately to this change in subject. "I maintain, repair, and modify top-end swoop bikes for the planetary swoop prix circuit here on Bothawui."
"Oh? Sounds impressive," Neema offers with a pleasant smile.
"He's quite good at it," Dall added. "The boy has a knack for mechanics. Fortunately for him, I made certain he got a proper schooling in starship repair as well. I don't demand that he run my business simply by the numbers like his old man did, but when I'm gone, I'd at least like to have him have some applicable skill for a Jorub Shipping executive."
Caer said nothing about this, but instead turned his attention back on you.
"I help tune up Jado Courte's swoop racer. He's one of the top contenders for this year's Planetary Cup. I'm not the lead mechanic, but my mentor, Kai Pers'An is, and he's been showing me the ropes. My father's right though, I've had formal training in starship repair. That's your HT-2200 freighter in the dock, right?
You nod.
"Aside from a few scrapes, it looks like it's not been long off the assembly line. No modifications that I could see, and it's too big and blocky to fly like anything but a brick. Standard dual laser turret layout, but that's not going to be enough fire power to fend off a concentrated attack, and it's not fast or agile enough to outrun most chasers."
"We're not exactly built for fighting," Neema replied.
"And that's just it, you'll end up like my dad here, drifting in space hoping someone is coming to the rescue after a pirate raid - or worse."
"Son, you really shouldn't criticize them, they're simply making an honest living."
"I'm not criticizing them. Just warning them. Between the pirates, the rebels, and the Imperial Security Bureau, trading without having some custom modifications is just asking for trouble. Just like you did." Caer pointed a finger at his father.
"Modifications would be nice," you interject, "But they're costly, and we don't have the facilities or an engineer to install them."
"Then I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you should consider coming down to the swoop track tomorrow and laying a bet down with my dad's reward money. He did offer you some didn't he? You put your money on Jado Courte to win, and I guarantee you'll have enough credits for an upgrade. Heck, I'd even install it for you here."
Dall barks a laugh.
"Gambling on swoop races. That's your idea of a sound investment?"
"Hey, it's not gambling if you know who's going to win. I'm on the inside, remember? Jado's bike is the fastest in the galaxy, and he's one of the most competent racers out there. If he wins tomorrow's prix and Suvo Tona finishes 3rd or less, then he'll win the Planetary Cup outright."
Dall shakes his head and then turns to you. "Go with my son to the race tomorrow if you like. It's a wonderful spectacle, but I advise you to not bet recklessly."
(A)
1. Agree to go with Caer to the Swoop Race tomorrow.
2. Decline to go to the Swoop Race, citing personal business.
3. Make no commitment one way or the other at this time.
***
The dinner continues, moving on from a rich meat and vegetable dish into a local dessert comprising of iced fruit and a sweet cream. At some point, the conversation turns to your story, and you mention that you are here on Bothawui to search for someone named Gammon Trudde who lives or used to live in the Merchant District. Neither of your hosts is aware of that particular name, but Caer says that if the Imperial Registry doesn't turn anything up, he may know a few people who could delve into that information for you for a small fee.
"This planet is known for producing some exceptional slicers - data hackers who are good at finding things the Empire would rather kept secret."
You thank them anyways for listening, and for the fine meal and bedrooms. Dall says that he will write and file his report for the Imperial and corporate bureaus and then turn in for the night. Caer mentions that he must get back to work, but if you've expressed an interest in going to the races tomorrow, he will invite you to take a peek at the swoop garage where he works.
Otherwise, you are left to your own devices for the evening. The Registry building and trade markets will have closed for the night, but cantinas and the black market never sleep. Pulling you to one side after the bothans have left the two of you alone, Neema informs you that she wants to see the sights before going to bed.
"I was thinking of heading to the west pleasure district. They say it's a nice place for non-humans - although you're always welcome. I've been advised before to stay away from the eastern side of the main promenade. The Imperials seem to have claimed that part of the district for their own downtime."
(B)
1. Tell Neema that you'd be happy to accompany her to a cantina.
2. Tell Caer that you'd like to see the swoop bikes (only if you chose A1).
3. Tell Neema to have fun, but you're going to see if you can make contact with an underworld figure that needs some cargo moved.
4. Tell Neema to have fun, but you're going to turn in for the night and stay in Dall's compound.
I don't really have an issue betting the 1000 credits either (2000 if Neema wants to pitch hers in, though it might be better if she doesn't, or at least maybe not all of it), since it wasn't exactly work-related funds, and therefore money that the pair wouldn't have had prior to helping them in the first place.
You inform Caer that the swoop race tomorrow sounds exciting and that you would very much like to attend. He seems to appreciate your interest in his hobby and assures you that you'll have the best view of the track. You decide to reserve your judgment on betting until tomorrow, and remind yourself that you need to sell your cargo first and foremost.
But with the late hour, the only thing you can do for the moment is go and enjoy yourself with Neema at a cantina. If you're lucky, you might find a place to do business with your smuggling contacts. Truth be known, this is the only real way for a small trader like yourself to make a profit. Imperial regulation codes and tariffs threaten to bankrupt any honest merchant.
You lead Neema out of Dall's household in the Spaceport district and make your way on foot through the Merchant District and down onto the Main Promenade that separates the East and West Pleasure district. You note with a discerning eye the number of grey officer uniforms, the occassional trio of white laminate storm troopers, and almost complete lack of non-humans on the eastern side of the main traffic artery. On the west side, it's a completely different world, with the buildings more run down, a lack of any notable imperial presence, and disreputable looking sorts of every species, though mostly Bothan and human.
Neema naturally wants to avoid Imperial harassment and chooses to stick to the western side and you oblige her. This being the capital city of the planet, you have many nightlife hotspots to choose from. You pass the smaller dives by in favor of a particularly large complex with neon lights and heavy bass music coming from inside. You see signs for gambling, music troupes, 'boxing' matches, and female exotic dancing.
You can think of no more likely a place for smuggling opportunities, and so you and Neema head inside. Two bulky bodyguards, one a brawny Bothan that closely resembles a werewolf of human legend and the other a fat, dopey-ear'd human man in beast hides, both welcome the pair of you with wide, leering grins.
Once inside, you feel some eyes turn to linger on you and your companion, making you feel keenly aware of your attractive qualities and showy leather kit. Still, you walk with a confident swagger, trying to take this all in and make it a part of your natural element.
There's plenty to see in the cantina, which though it has a rundown and seedy vibe to it, is certainly stocked with all manner of the promised entertainment. Directly in front of you is a long bar, tended to by a swarthy Bothan man in a terrific flashy orange tunic and trousers with many jeweled bands on his hair and beard. A younger female Bothan - pretty by Bothan standards - tends to the bar with him along with a service droid, whose main task is to mix the drink orders with precision. The bar is so full and packed with customers that it may require squeezing in between some of them to order a drink.
The bar naturally divides the main room into two halves. On the left is the music and stage area, where a Bothan guitarist, Ortolan percussionist, droid synthboard, and female Rodian vocalist play a rather catchy, bass heavy electronika style discordic melody that has drawn a moderate sized crowd.
On the right is an area designed more for leisure, with tables and curtain drawn booths, filled with the haze of hookah smoke and the unmistakable whiff of various illicit spice drugs.
The leisure booths extend farther back than the stage area, leading to a descending stairway labeled "Boxing and Saabak" in Basic and Bothese, as well as a secondary room where live Bothese, Human, Twi'lek, and Mirialan girls seem to be pole-dancing and stripping in front of a highly interested crowd.
As you're passing by, a group of two young scruffy humans and a strong and nimble looking Wee-Quay thug go by you, with one of the humans stopping and smacking you suddenly on the ass, before groping it.
"Damn, that's a fine ass, girl!" The offending human says, winking at you as a death stick hangs loosely from the side of his lips. "You looking for a good time? I know me and my lads here would love to go on a 'date' with you and your girlfriend. Sooba likes Twi'lek pussy, don't you Sooba?"
The crude human seems to refer to the Wee'Quay when he says the name Sooba, but the alien remains silent with an appraising smile at Neema.
"Yeahh... he's digging dem brain-tails. Come on darling, we got some spice, some deathsticks, a little Bothese spirits to loosen you up.~"
You're certain that this extremely forward human man is under the influence of several substances and thus do not doubt his claim that he's carrying drugs. You consider how to deal with his insulting and lewd nature. (A)
1. There's a lot of eyes watching and you don't want to make yourself seem weak. Take your blaster out and put a hole in this fucker. Let everyone know you're not to be messed with.
2. Ignore him and walk away, he's not worth the effort, and besides, Wee-Quays are dangerous in close quarters, plus you're outnumbered. A brawl might not go well for you.
3. Challenge him with words first, insult his pride and attempt to publicly humiliate him. If he threatens violence, challenge him to a duel. (As the challenged, he can choose the nature of the contest.)
4. Use your cunning and deception to play along with him. You have no intention of going through with this date, but you can feign amusement and get him to tell you who is dealing in illicit substances at this establishment - that's probably an individual who needs a good smuggler.
5. As #4 above, only using your charm to get info about his underworld connections while you willingly go on a date with him (and partake in some delicious spice and alcohol as well, mmm, partay!)
After you end up dealing with the human and his friends in whatever way you choose, what section of the cantina are you most interested in visiting first? (B)
1. The Bar, order a drink, strike up some conversation, see if there are any rumors/local jobs available.
2. The Band. This music is pretty rad, who are these musicians anyway? Do they plan to take their music off-planet anytime soon?
3. The Leisure Booths. Some of the individuals in these booths look like they've got some credits to spend. Maybe you and Neema can play up the coy female companions for the night and get a favor from the wealthy?
4. The Boxing/Gambling area. Sounds like there's a contest starting soon, and you've always liked the tension at the gambling tables. Smugglers are usually gamblers by nature anyways, so maybe you can find like-minded people there?
5. The Pole Dancing stage. You're not one to shy away from a little flesh now and then, and you remember that Neema has a particular fascination with dancing. No small wonder, given that her race seems to be quite famous for it.
You decide to play things cool and use this foolish man to your advantage, turning slowly to him and giving him your best fake smile.
"I like a man who knows what he wants," you say, taking a step towards him. He grins wide, showing yellowed teeth with blackened gums, and his eyes have the yellowed tinge of a spice addict. "Especially when he's willing to share some spice."
"Oh, I'm plenty willing to share, baby," he says eagerly, quite happy that his small-chance hook has caught an apparent fish.
"That's good. But I'm not just in it for one party. You look like a man who knows his way around these parts, mm?"
"I know my around a lot of things," he answers, gazing down at your chest, seemingly enchanted by it. You correct his gaze by lifting a finger under his slackened chin and raise it up so that he's looking at you.
"You know what I'd really appreciate? You telling me who around here is the man who can supply the spice. The really good stuff, you know what I mean? I'd be ever so appreciative. The both of us would." You nod to Neema, who has managed to figure out your ploy and smiles suggestively at the man and his two friends. You add emphasis to your meaning by reaching around and slapping the man' butt in a daring counter to his original offense. This seems to throw the over-eager man into action.
"Oh-ha! Yeah! Yeah yeah yeah! It's this guy named Noba. Noba Onyur'Tal. He's a real cool customer. We just bought some primo ryll off of him. He's right over there, in that booth."
You follow where he's pointing and see a curtained booth, flanked by two rough looking Bothans in thick padded tunics with large curved knives in their belts. Through the small opening in the curtain, you see a third Bothan male in a fine suit enjoying a drink and talking with unseen companions.
"Noba? Mm, thanks for that. Let's go see Noba," you say.
The man hesitates to follow you, a new thought clearly having occurred to him as you moved toward the booth.
"You don't need to see him now, do ya babe? We've just been over there and gotten some ryll. There'll be enough for a party."
"Ooh, baby, I don't doubt it, but I'm only here for a short while and a girl needs to make some contacts. You don't wanna come along?" You explain.
"Ah... it's just that... he told us to sorta get lost after we bought the stuff so..."
You pat the disgusting man on the shoulder with mock sympathy.
"Of course, you don't want to outstay your welcome. Why don't you just go on ahead and you tell us where to meet you for our 'party?'"
He grins at this idea and excitedly tells you an address which you may or may not instantly forget depending on if you intend to go teach this bastard a lesson or not later on. You suggest he and his buddies wait for you and Neema there, to which they all eagerly agree and happily wander out of the cantina looking forward to some action that they'll never get.
Your friend shakes her head slowly at you.
"Wow, talk about some gullible losers. I'm surprised you didn't just shoot him where he stood," Neema says.
"I certainly thought about it," you reply, then wave her on. "Let's go see this Noba character, then we'll check out the gambling. Maybe they've got a sabacc game going on."
"I don't know what your fascination with that game is. It's not like you're any good at it."
"I haven't seen enough of it to get good. Besides, getting into the sabacc scene is a serious investment, but I'll bet you I'd be great at it!"
Neema just rolls her eyes at you, apparently not convinced with your poker face.
~~~
The two of you approach Noba's booth, and the two toughs eye you with appraisal. When it's apparent that you are coming to talk to Noba, they hold up their hands to indicate for you to stop and then one of them widens the curtain a little bit to allow the dark-haired Bothan inside to get a good look at you.
He does so, and makes a small gesture with his finger, and the guard nods you forward. Pointing to the blasters at your hips.
"Don't try anything stupid," the one guard tells you.
Once inside the curtain, you see several more Bothans sitting in the booth. Two females and another male. Their conversation dies off as you step up to the table.
"Something I can help you lovely off-worlders with?" Noba asks.
"Possibly. You are Noba Onyur'Tal?"
"Indeed, I am. You have me at a disadvantage, Miss...?"
"Tamlyn Dao. Captain of the Eventide. A free trade freighter that's just made port this afternoon."
He spreads his hands wide in a ceremonial gesture.
"Welcome then to Bothawui. May your stay be both pleasant and profitable, Captan Dao." He and the other Bothans at the table smile slyly.
"Profit is what we're in the business for. Hard to do though with new Imperial taxes rolling out every standard month," you say, leading in towards the subject matter that you're certain everyone at the table knows is coming up by this point.
"You have our sympathies, Captain."
"Tamlyn, please. I'm not so formal."
"Of course, Tamlyn. Please, you and your companion should sit with us."
You and Neema take a seat and are introduced to the others at the table, who according to Noba are his cousin, his cousin's wife, and his cousin's mistress. It would seem that neither the wife nor the mistress are at all upset by each other's presence, but you're not familiar enough with Bothan culture to know if this should be a startling revelation.
"So, Tamlyn," Noba says at length. "I am supposing that you approached me because you heard that I represent a mercantile enterprise here in the capital. Is this so?"
You nod and he continues.
"Very good. Of course, on Bothawui, there are always uses for enterprising free traders to help move and deliver merchandise, but in my line of work, it's not wise to simply go into business with someone without really getting to know there character. There needs to be someway to prove oneself committed to a mutually beneficial relationship."
"And is there a way to prove oneself?" you ask him.
"It just so happens there is something that you could do for me. I don't suppose that you are aware of the swoop racing grand prix that is occurring tomorrow afternoon?"
You indicate that you are well aware of it.
"Oh excellent. It just so happens that on Bothawui, with such spectacles, there is a healthy betting scene. The trouble is that tomorrow's race is so lopsided from a skill standpoint, you see, the top racer is Suvo Tona'fey, the young son of a duke from an insufferably elitist clan here in the capital. After him is a somewhat skilled human named Jado Courte, but he's backed by a clan that, shall we say, doesn't see eye to eye with my own clan on many subjects. Now... our driver is Pisk Ursi'Tal - good enough to beat the rest of the field if those other two racers were to suffer some sort of accident before or during the race tomorrow.
"Of course, it would be beyond the pale for one of the patron clans to interfere with the race, and honor dictates that we back our own driver to win. With such long odds, however, I would be hesitant to wager much on a bet unless someone like you could give me a good reason to have confidence. And if I were to win a large sum on a bet at tomorrow's races, well... I'd be in such a good mood that I'm sure I'd welcome a new partner into my lucrative business ventures."
You understand what Noba is driving at. He wants to make sure that you're willing to dirty your hands in order to get involved with him, and with a task like this, it's probably also a test of your initiative and your preferred methodology. There's probably plenty of time to back out if you don't want to get involved with rigging the race, but on the other hand, you do need money and new cargo. There's no telling how much or how little you'll gain from your meager delivery tomorrow, and the credits need to be coming in from somewhere. The rescue money that Dall gave you is the only thing that gives you hope to stay afloat right now.
(A)
1. Tell Noba that he can lay a bet on his own driver. He's as good as won the race.
2. Tell Noba that you'll think about this and if you're confident that Pisk will win the race tomorrow, you'll give him a signal at the track.
3. Tell Noba that you've no real head for swoop racing and that maybe a business partnership will have to wait until a more opportune time.
~~~
You conclude your business with Noba one way or another and leave the booth on amicable terms. Neema seems to trust in your decision and stays with you as you head for the gambling area and arena on the level below.
The arena is a small circular pit with enough tiered seating for 20-30 people to watch combatants from above. The fighters enter from doors on either side of the pit, which are accessed from caged ramps. The arena has a sign which indicates that no weapons are to be brought into the pit.
Currently two Bothans are throwing haymakers wildly at each other, with many locals cheering and shouting out advice and encouragement from above. The solid majority of patrons in this area are members of the native race, though there are a few humans scattered about and very occassionally there will be a member of another non-human species, though at the moment the only two that you can see are an Aqualish tough by the fighting pit and a Gand who is seated at one of the sabacc tables, mulling over its card hand.
You are drawn to that particular table, as it is the only one that has a dedicated dealer. You also see that the table itself is an automated one, specifically designed for the playing of sabacc - and thus handles a different type of card sets - ones expressly used for professional-style games.
As such, the pot sizes at this table are massively bigger than the amateur tables spread elsewhere in the establishment. Two male bothans, one dark haired and one fair haired sit across from each other, eyeing each other with challenging stares, while a female of the species sits on the near side, dressed in a manner that makes you think she's a courtesan of some sort. The insectoid Gand takes its seat on the far side of the table, next to the dealer.
The game appears to be mostly even, with the two males being about even stacked, the woman slightly less so, and the Gand appears to be in trouble, though just as you note this, he manages to call a hand and either bluffs or intimidates the other players into folding, netting him a decent sum that gets him momentarily back into the contest.
"It's a dangerous game," Neema says, peeking over your shoulder. "And expensive too. I've heard a professional deck for a table like this runs for 80 credits."
"Not if you know where to look," you answer. "But you're right anyway, I don't think I could afford the kind of sums at this table."
A smaller bothan male taps you on the shoulder.
"I see you're interested in the sabacc game and I couldn't help but overhear that you don't have a deck yourself."
"Damn, these bothans have good ears," Neema mumbles, to which the short bothan smiles and gives her a wink.
"My name is Duyi Gok'Vys, gaming organizer for this establishment. I happen to be a seller of a variety of decks, and have some beginner amateur decks if you wish to practice or game by yourself. I include a pack of nullifier chips as well to help do the job that a professional table would otherwise do automatically. I merely ask a fair 40 credits for what will surely bring you a lifetime of entertainment value. But you should know that if you wish to try out the game itself, there is another table near the back that is filling up now. 10 credit antes, 200 credit minimum entry.
"Or, if you were interested in placing a bet on the arena combatants, just come see me as well. Gutter Nak'Tal is the favorite and taking on all challengers tonight. Bet on Gutter will return 50% winnings. A bet on a challenger gets you 300%. And if you were to rummage up an actual challenger somewhere, he would gain a 5,000 credit purse if he were to beat our champ."
As he says this, the pit announcer exclaims that the champion, Gutter, has claimed another victory and is asking around to see if anyone is brave enough to face this master of mayhem in a noble match of fisticuffs.
A couple of Bothans eagerly begin to clap the Aqualish tough on the back, plying him with words of encouragement until he accepts the challenge. Known as an aggressive and warlike race, the Aqualish appears as though he might put up a good challenge to Gutter, who has already been through several fights.
(B)
1. Purchase a sabacc deck and join a game.
2. Simply join a sabacc game without purchasing a deck.
3. Ask Duyi if he sells a professional style deck and if you could get a spot at the high stakes table.
4. Go to the arena and watch the next fight without betting, maybe striking up a conversation with the onlookers.
5. Go to the arena and make a safe bet on Gutter.
6. Go to the arena and make a dark horse bet on the Aquilish.
A not sure. it might be better to leave him be since I don't like him but I would rather make him lose and somehow profit off of it. B4 Maybe we can bet later. I'd be more interested in eventually finding someone who can win.
