Umgul City

=Spaceport Bar=
The bar was as dingy as they came and home to nearly dozen different species drinking a dozen different intoxicants. In a corner, though, two particularly striking sentients played a game using many sided dice, and gambling chits. Smoke hung heavy in the air as the two gamblers played their game - their limbs unceasingly picking up dice, throwing, and scooping up chits as they played. Both seemed to know the game well, and the small floating droid to the side - a neutral third party who was both keeping score and making sure no cheating was involved, could barely keep up with the fast paced exchange between the two. One was a human woman with blazing auburn/copper hair, and a statuesque figure that was unashamedly nearly bursting out of tight fitting smugglers clothes. A cigar in hand, her piercing green eyes darted from edge to edge of the game board, watching which dice landed on which panel, what their value was, and where she would need to throw the next die in order to pull ahead. A nervous tapping of her hand on the table, though, and a curvy leg bouncing restlessly under the table, gave away her nervousness. Clearly, she was not winning in this game.

Across from her, playing the game with currently unsurpassed talent, was an unusual and singularly uncommon sentient: a Filordi. Dog-headed with floppy ears, the alien had six limbs, including thick and stumy hind legs, a long set of middle arms that ended in pincer like toes, and an upper set of spindly arms used for fine manipulation. A resourceful and intelligent species that were adaptable to whatever circumstances they found themselves in, Filordi were creative and driven by a persistent desire to be successful, which led them to become ruthless and opportunistic. The Filordi across from the human woman was no exception - and was a particularly devious and cut-throat by the name of Verkul.

"Your luck is running out, Valalla...not that you had any to begin with."

The human woman, Valalla Alavar, paused in her game to lean back and take a long heavy drag on the cigarra. She had come to Umgul to gamble. She hadn't realized the dire situation on the planet, what with the talks of martial law and the military reacting to some person doing some...thing. Turning back nearly immediately to the space port, she had stopped by this bar to get a drink, and to have her ship's navicomp plot a course to the closest gambling world. That's when she had seen Verkul and his dice game, he had called it Divot, and she had been instantly hooked. Five games later over the course of a week, and she was now deeply in debt. She had to win this last game, or she'd owe more than she had.

"Shut your trap and roll the die you dog headed freak." She snapped, practically biting her cigarra in half.

"No need to be racist my dear..." Verkul said dryly, in his gravelly somber voice. "But let's be honest...you're playing a losing game. We're going in circles: you're not losing any ground, and you're not gaining any. We've been at this for, what, seven hours?"

"And? What, you have somewhere to be?" Valalla said absently, her eyes scanning the board and the dice, looking for a way out. The truth was, though, that he was absolutely correct. She had no luck. No, more than that: she was decidedly unlucky. Routinely, consistently, unlucky.

"Oh my, no." Said Verkul, waving a pair of limbs in admonishment. "Merely suggesting a bet to end the game...all in, winner takes all. You could win it all back, or, well, you'd owe me another fifteen thousand."

Valalla was silent for a long time, studying the board. The alien was simply too good at the game: he could out roll her while placing his die on the appropriate modifying tiles with ease. He did slip up now and then, but not often enough for her to get an edge. In a single roll, though...maybe she could close and surpass the gap, and cut her losses while she was temporarily ahead. Picking up her die, she eyed the alien, her mouth set into a thin line. "Winner takes all. We roll at the same time. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Replied Verkul, cooly.

"1...2...3!"

Simultaneously, the pair tossed their die, the small pieces of plastoid rolling and jumbling about, before finally falling still. On Valalla's die, it showed an ornate symbol - a box with a line for through it, surrounded by seven dots - an alien symbol for 18. Triumphantly, she beamed at Verkul, until she saw his own die; a triangle with a single dot in it, the symbol for a pure 20.

"Oh son a Hutt!" Swore Val, her head coming down to bang against the table. "One more game? Come on Verkul, we're just getting started!

"No. No more games." Answered Verkul coldly. "Time to pay. You owe me one hundred and eighty thousand credits...it's time to deliver. If not, you can of course take it up with my complaint department." No sooner had the words left the alien's mouth, than two horned and leather faced Nikto came out of nowhere, each brandishing a wicked looking blaster. Menacingly, one leveled the blaster at Val, the other reaching down and relieving her of her blaster.

"Oh...ha, hahah!" Came the laughter, high pitched and nervous. "Come one Verkul, pretty please? You wouldn't hurt ole Val would you..." Not pretty Val?" Leaning forward, popping the top button on her blouse, Val winked suggestively, giving the alien a full view of her deathstars, so to speak.


"My species reproduces asexually." Verkul said, blasé and impassive. "Pay up. Now. Or we're going to have a "talk" behind the bar in the alley."

"Of course you do." Val said under her breath. The guards moved for her then, and Val held up her hands, practically gibbering. "Woho! Hey, hey, hey! We can talk this out, work it out? I give good massages, dances - I've got a ship!"

"A...ship?" Said Verkul, raising a hand and stopping the Nikto "Worth your debt?"

"A hundred and seventy five. It's the best I've got!"

"The deed. Now. This will make us, how you say, even?"

And that was how she lost her ship. Handing over the holodeed, Verkul and his thugs had left - her ship now legally theirs. Now with no ship, no creds, and not much else, she slowly ran up a bar tab at this spaceport bar. Every now and then, when the tab got too big, she'd work as a waitress or bartender to pay it off - just to lose it all on booze or more gambling. If ever there was a time for favors, or for a crew of adventurers to help out a potential ally - now was it.

[ Boarding Ramp | CR70 Corellian Corvette, The Blasphemy | Umgul Spaceport ]

Amy completed her dressing with her long dark duster and her hat, the protective goggles was wrapped around the top of the hat and the mask hand around her neck. She stood before the boarding ramp of the ship as Fel made his final descent, and nodded to herself when it made a smooth landing. She went over to the intercom and opened a channel to the bridge, “Nice landing, captain.”

She stood before the ramp and opened it, then waited patiently for the rest to show up, and she hooked her thumbs through the belt, making no secret she was armed, but also appearing unthreatening.

[ Boarding Ramp | CR70 Corellian Corvette, The Blasphemy | Umgul Spaceport ]

“Ain't got nothin' t' hide 'ere,” said Amy, after giving Ellie a quick once over and nodding in acknowledgement at her, “'sides, if Umgul's really neutral an' all, and not with th' First Order, should be fine. As fer Janos; strikes me he loves bein' tricky an' all. Long as you guys are gettin' paid - maybe me too... - he can dress and look like a Twi'lek dancin' girl fer all I care.”

She planted her palms on her hips and took another look at the lightsaber on Ellie's belt, then frowned, but said nothing. She just thought it odd that the Mandalorians would allow a Jedi amongst them, and not only that, but to let one keep their signature weapon. Then again, it probably made sense for people who used whatever they had on hand. It would be foolish to throw away something that would be considered useful.

“The others comin'?” She asked, “Guessin' our good captain will be stayin' on board. Probably for the best. He should rest.”

[ Boarding Ramp | CR70 Corellian Corvette, The Blasphemy | Umgul Spaceport ]

“Don't have a home on Corellia,” said Amy, her tone blunt and without bitterness, or much feeling, “The Empire took care of that. My ranch is gone, my bank accounts, anythin' belongin' to the Westar name is gone. It's my uncles who feel it more'n I do. No idea where they are now, but if I know 'em...they're givin' the First Order serious hell in the Outer Rim.”

Her voice and even her expression was fonder when she talked about her uncles. She loved them very much, and she was proud of them too, knowing what sorts of mayhem they'd do to the uppity Imperials and their follow-up organization, and often without help from anyone else. “Sometimes,” she looked down and sighed, “sometimes I wish my parents weren't ever associated with the Rebellion. Would've made all the difference, I'd still be livin' on Corellia, away from all this...I mean what were they doin' in a fight like that anyway? They were farmers, far's I can tell. Ranchers, not even traders like my uncles.”

She felt more than she saw something, like in the corner of her vision, and a man and a woman, in robes, briefly appeared, with forlorn expressions on their faces, their visage covered by an ethereal blue light. By the time Amy turned to look, it was gone, and she blinked and shrugged it off, thinking she was just imagining things.

*Ellie could easily tell that Ami had been through a lot. She was even caught up in the what ifs and what could have been.* "Everyone has reasons to fight. Maybe your parents believed that they were making a difference. They could have believed that living under the Empire was a fate they didn't want to happen to you." *She put her hand on Ami's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.* "I'm sorry about your family, and you home. Maybe you can win big in here. Then we can buy you a ranch somewhere outside the reach if the Empire and the First Order. Then you wouldn't have to worry about all this."

*Ellie suddenly felt something tug at the currents of the force. Not a strong pull, but enough to catch he curiosity. She caught Ami's gaze before she turned, somehow the other woman noticed it before Ellie did. Ellie turned to the spot only to see nothing there. She arched an eyebrow and tried to feel for something in the force but came up empty handed. Before she could question it further, Fel stepped up behind them.* "No. I haven't seen him since the bridge."

[ Boarding Ramp | CR70 Corellian Corvette, The Blasphemy | Umgul Spaceport ]

Amy's impatience skyrocketed when the Ugnaught addressed them from just outside. What was Janos doing? Was he taking on the role of an invalid old man? And was he walking as slow as one? Looking out the ramp, she knew that the port security and officials would get really testy and impatient if they delayed them any longer, not to mention suspicious. Plus Ugnaughts weren't necessarily the easiest beings to deal with. They could be...unpredictable. And Amy wasn't a diplomat by any means.

“Blast it, Janos!” said Amy, “I'm a doctor, not a smooth-talker! Hurry up!”

Not only did she not get any response, but this was taking too long. Finally she took action, speaking to the intercom addressing the entire ship within, “Melia, BeeBee-Drunk, find that ol' man an' get his behind out here, now. I'll talk to 'em in the mean time and hope they don't send us back into orbit.”

She released the intercom and looked at Fel and Ellie, “Wish me luck.”

She had no idea whether this Ugnaught valued or followed his people's customs, and he already sounded impatient and/or exasperated from the way he spoke, and his overall tone. She decided as she descended first down the ramp, beckoning for Ellie at least to follow her, that she had better not take any risks in making him more irate than he already was, and just observe every level of politeness and respect possible. When she stood before him, she wordlessly and quietly bowed low, and respectfully, waiting for some inclination of approval before she would straighten up.

“Greetings, sir,” said Amy, “My name is Ami-Lee Westar, of Corellia.”

She presented the Ugnaught with her ID, and then peeled back her duster to reveal her blasters strapped to either thigh, “I'm a vet by profession, but I'm a freelance traveller, so I carry weapons habitually. They are also family heirlooms, and I much prefer t' keep 'em on my person. My colleagues and I are here t' meet an associate, and we'll be on our way. Not lookin' t' make trouble hereabouts.”

Fel regarded the Ugnaught with a neutral glance as he conducted official business, and waited until Ellie had placed her index finger on the scanner before stepping up, next at bat.

Fel. From, uh... he actually had to remember which was his home planet... Taris, originally. He placed his finger on the scanner, and patiently awaited the fallout from the laundry list of items that would surely pop up for Zogzog to read. There's five of us. The three you see here, a female human who will remain aboard ship, and an older man who is no doubt experiencing some arthritic motion in showing himself. He looked back up the long planetfall ramp. Janos was nowhere to be seen, and Melia was on the bridge, as instructed. If your men search the vessel, they'll find Melia Tervho on the flight deck. She's expecting them. You seekin' to peace-bind our weapons? Don't make no nevermind to me. Just want to do right by the local authorities. He smiled warmly, and immediately wondered if what he thought was 'warmly' actually came across as 'devious.' Ah, well.