Trust, but Verify

Posted on Tue Jul 23rd, 2024 @ 9:54pm by Bomoor Thort & Amare & Kalen "Rex" Vickers & G2-O7
Edited on on Fri Aug 16th, 2024 @ 11:42am

1,755 words; about a 9 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VII: Uprooted
Location: Capital City, Alba, Outer Rim Alliance
Timeline: Daytime, Week Five (After "Concerning Imperials")

The Togorian mechanic was meticulous with his jeweler's eyepiece, a small device he was using to examine the well-pressed palm-sized bar of pure Bastion beskar. To Amare's chagrin, the large furball was perhaps too particular with his examination of the metal, but at least this time Sith apprentice was prepared to handle his feline dander with allergy medication she acquired from the infirmary back at the Grand Moff's estate.

"Well?" she pressed the mechanic impatiently, anxious to get her hands on the songsteel she so deeply craved for her future instrument of death. She did wonder, however, if there was going to be a problem given that Bastion's logo was clearly stamped into the small bar.

Felinoid eyes and claws continued to regard and adjust the rippled bar of metal. unfazed by the insistence of the young Sith Lady. The mechanic's face, previously one established as being quick to smile and quicker to laugh, betrayed no emotion barring curiosity and sheer focus; his nose twitched as he brought the metal closer, sniffing it. With a few more turns of the metal in his oversized paws, the mechanic then thrust the end of the beskar into the maw of his mouth and bit hard into it. To the others nearby, it sounded as though one of his canines may have chipped from the exertion, but the Togorian paid it no mind. Within another second, he barked out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head.

"You crazy kids don't work in half-measures, eh?" He said uproariously, extended his thick arms wide, laughing again as he planted the bar back onto the counter between them. He scratched heavily at his tattered overalls and drew in a deep breath from his nose. A slight rattle within the man's chest was audible to the more attentive present, but he was otherwise undeterred in his jubilance at the prize he had been brought. "I knew you guys were trouble when you first walked through my door, but I had a feeling, you know? I had no doubt you'd be true to your word. Something about you."

The Togorian shook his head in amusement and placed both paws down on the counter, either side of the Mandalorian iron, leaning forward heavily towards Amare and the others. A beam of sunlight stretched down from a skylight above. A number of the Alban's hairs were going silvery in his advancing age, but the sunlight made his mane shine boldly, doing nothing to diminish the strength he still clearly held in his muscled body.

"But," he now said, his voice dipping, "a man has to wonder what exactly a Nautolan, Ithorian and Human, this far from the Core, wielding sabers and toting ancient droids, does to get their hands on this Mandalorian gold - stamped with a Bastion crest, no less. A dangerous thing to possess, here amongst the Alliance guilds. I hope you didn't kill anyone I know for it, huh?"

"Oh, nothing so barbaric," Amare said with a wry grin as she passively gazed at the nails of her left hand in a casual feminine manner. "Just making some friends, having a few drinks, and my friend here smashing it at the pazaak table." She playfully squeezed Bomoor's shoulder and gave him a gentle friendly shove to help sell her bantha dung fiction. "Don't let those cute beady eyes fool you. Sure, he might be a stick in the mud and a pain in my side, but he's sharper than a Wookie's bowcaster and can hold his drink with the best of 'em!"

Peering down at the young woman, the arm she had squeezed and then back across the counter at the Togorian, Bomoor affected the flattest voice he could muster before confirming, somewhat begrudgingly, "It is as she says. Pure pazaak."

He placed his hand forward and splayed his fingers out partially covering the ingot upon the counter, "Beskar is Beskar no matter whose crest is stamped on it and this particular ingot could be yours if you have the components you promised my companions last time."

"Damn right!" Rex added with mock joyousness, adding some false levity to the more serious tone that the Ithorian had taken. He now brought himself up to the counter properly and leaned heavily into it, sliding an elbow uncomfortably close to the Togorian's left paw. A toothpick had been apparently produced at some point during the motion and was now being firmly chomped between Rex's stark white teeth. "Otherwise, my man here might have to double down on the arrangement, challenge you to one of his legendary pazaak games, make a real embarrassment of you in front of those guilds of yours. Tsk. Be a pity to be shamed so thoroughly by an offworlder, eh?"

The Togorian did not move, despite Rex's proximity. His broad features had been unchanging in the face of the challenges from Bomoor and Rex, or even the sing-song nature of Amare. For a moment, however, he looked as though his typically mirthful visage could cut to rage or insulted dismay at the shifting manners of his customers. A silence, becoming more awkward with each passing moment that went unfilled, grew between them.

Being the first to respond, Rex glanced sidelong at Bomoor and Amare, but within a bare moment of doing so, before he was able to make any sort of comment, a hoarse bark caused the smuggler to jolt in mild surprise, with one hand falling short of protecting an ear from the auditory assault.

"I still like you guys!" The shopkeeper said, wagging a clawed finger between each of them. A few more barks of laughter erupted from his bulky frame before he swept up the beskar and dropped it into the pouch of his thick apron. "The deal stands, my friends. The songsteel, the components - all yours. And, of course-" His large paw dipped into an unseen pocket for a moment, invisibly rummaging about. A moment later, a scattering of credit chits were dropped across the counter. "-your deposit!" He grinned before turning back from the group, prowling around some of the shelves and drawers nearby, and then returning with some precariously-stacked boxes.

One, of course, was quite familiar, and Amare was once again treated to the sight of the songsteel shaft and pommel, shimmering brilliantly from the sunlight shining from above. "And, as promised, I got that dud central processor working for your droid project. Should kickstart any struggling machine, fairly universal. Won't keep up with any fancy Company assassin-bots, but will ensure any caf is served piping hot!"

When Amare beheld the songsteel in her hands, knowing that it was her's to keep this time, it was like magic. Nostalgia reminded her of the awe she felt as a little girl when her adopted father showed her his lucky find of high-grade palladium minerals in a vein from a chunk of quartz and calcite. She then recalled that suspected palladium deposits was one of the reasons that Wolphs had purchased their island home in the first place.

She pushed that unexpected recollection aside and focused on her delightful present moment, immediately thinking of what she would need to modify the songsteel to her tastes. She also considered cannibalizing her shoto's custom high quality parts and further her studies with a proper single saber style in order to make her weapon the best it can be.

In the midst of Amare's restrained giddiness, she felt a familiar little electric surge in the back of her head. It was a quirk of her biology manipulated by the Force that she had come to know over the last eventful year that something very unpleasant was nearby. She slowly turned her head so as not to show fear or panic, and then saw three men starting to walk away who were looking in the shop from the outside, one Zabrak and two humans. Her instincts gave her the feeling that she and Bomoor and Rex might have been the targets of the trio's attention.

Bomoor also caught sight of the group shuffling away and confirmed his own feelings with a quick glance to Amare's own troubled expression.

"Trouble?" he quietly asked the Nautolan.

Rex did not miss a beat, and in a deft cardshark's brush of his hand past his holster, he unclipped the blaster, yet maintained the appearance of a focused shopper. He reached forward to collect the droid parts to put in his side satchel, but made a hushed comment to Bomoor. "Window."

Nodding, Bomoor then looked to quickly finish their business with the shopkeeper.

"Thank you, kind sir," he hummed, keeping his tone fairly flat to continue his no-nonsense Pazaak winning demeanour, "Your attention to detail in sourcing suitable substitute components for the droid processor are particularly admirable, as well as your knowledge of fitting lightsaber components. Whenever we are in this sector again, I will be sure to come by and see what else you can turn your hand to. But, for now, we must be hurrying along."

The fangs were bared again. "I wish you further fortune at the tables, my herd-friend. Be sure to spend the chits here, of course! Heh." The Togorian gave an approximation of a bestial wink and set about collecting up the detritus on the counter, returning the items to their homes around the shop. "Best you get any shopping done today though, fellas," he quickly added, before some wet sniffs that prompted a paw scrape over his nose. "Harvest Day celebrations are Zhellday, so most will be closing up early to get ready for the evening stands and parades."

Rex matched the smile as they began to make their way out and gave a little casual salute. "Thanks, man. Crunch a cob for me, eh?" And with that comment, they reached the door, and Rex let his hand now properly rest upon the grip of his blaster.

A blue hand softly placed itself on the side of Bomoor's arm to get his attention.

"I will not be joining you back to the ship," Amare said close to him in a low tone. "I have some shopping of my own to take care of. I won't be long." She turned and parted ways with the group. Amare sauntered away in the local crowd casually moving towards the general direction of the suspicious spies at the window. She did indeed have some legitimate shopping in mind for herself, but that now included the reaping of three unwelcome souls...

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