"Drake's Return" Log Date: 8/24/97 Log Cast: Thomas Drake, Rellawy Woodlake, H'rruuk (NPC) Log Intro: Solo had been better than his word about weapons dealers. Steewie on Level 328 in the Corellian Sector had not only not cheated Rell for the old, light blaster she purchased from him, but had also tossed in an extra power cell for it for free -- though Rell suspected that his largesse had rather more to do with H'rraal's looming presence and his obvious ease with his own weapon than with her cautious mention of the name Han Solo. Regardless, she acquired a blaster, and the very next morning, during the Burning Deck's off-hours, H'rraal set out to teach her how to use it. It proved a more complicated prospect than Rell had anticipated. H'rraal didn't even let her pick up the blaster that morning; instead, the big creature, along with his brother H'rruuk, spent an hour teaching her hand-eye coordination, testing her reaction time, and (which H'rraal deemed most important), teaching her how to duck. These, they told her, were skills taught to the cubs of their kind, and they intended to teach her as one of their own. << Before you even pick up the gun, >> H'raal rumbled at her, << you must be prepared, on Nar Shaddaa, to defend yourself or run if it is taken from you. >> And H'rruuk affirmed, << For every predator on Nar Shaddaa, there will always be someone bigger, meaner, or more desperate. And many will be bigger and meaner than you, little heart-cub. You do not have size, so we must teach you swiftness and cunning. >> Learning swiftness from creatures as big and bulky as the two K'shannaars struck Rell as rather incongruous, but H'rraal and H'rruuk surprised her; they were massive, but they were far from clumsy, making up for the nearsightedness of their species with keen senses of smell and hearing. Only when she was dripping with sweat, and aching and bruised in a dozen places, did they ease up on their lessons, and then only the physical side of them. H'rraal saw fit to _then_ drill her on everything there was to know about her blaster, from how long its power charge lasted to how to take the thing apart and clean it if she had to. The day after was her day off from working the Deck -- and H'rraal and H'rruuk wasted no time in drilling her all over again in what they'd taught her the day before, till by the evening, Rell was ready to fall over. H'rruuk took pity on her, then, and accompanied her out into the levels, to get her fed... ---------- Level 601 - The Pot Nar Shaddaa(#276RFL) The atmosphere here is close; not only too close, but close enough to settle a layer of paranoia on beings who linger here. It is quiet and warm, and faintly smells of methane. In between the support columns are junk piles and battered chairs, and a number of thin cracked walls that makes sections of the area maze-like and enclosing. Beings sleep here and there, weary beyond physical fatigue, and the occasional being moves briskly through, oblivious to the living refuse. An establishment called The Meltdown Cafe croaches to the south. A dark linktube to the northeast extends the roaming range of beings to the nearby tower of the Duros Sector. There is a turbolift here. (OOC: Type '+level list'). Obvious exits: The Kache The Meltdown Cafe Linktube 42 Drake steps out of the turbolift. Drake has arrived. Drake emerges from the turbolift, head inclined downward, with one of those 'I'm walking fast and you'd better not stop me' walks. Flanked by the big furred H'rruuk, who's sporting a blaster rifle and the best no-nonsense expression a K'shannaar face can wear, Rell emerges from the Meltdown Cafe. The girl's got an exhausted look to her, and she sticks close to the ursoid, as the two of them head towards the linktube. Drake doesn't see Rellawy. Perhaps because he's watching the ground. And perhaps it's that same reason that has him colliding right into H'rruuk's furry -- well, one hopes it's his torso. "Mrrrf!" Drake hollers, muffled by H'rruuk. The big creature rumbles, turning around to eye whatever it was that just collided with him. Startled, Rell whirls with rather more speed, and blinks three or four times -- too shocked to gasp. Drake's hand flies to the hilt of his saber, and he whirls to face Rellawy and H'rruuk--and then he blinks. "Maker," he mutters. "Talk about paranoid." H'rruuk brings up the paw with which he's not grasping his blaster rifle, and leans down to sniff at Drake, and squint at him as well. The ursoid emits a wharlfling noise of surprise of his own, before shifting his enormous head in Rell's direction and snorfing out something else to her. The young woman just... stares, then wets her lips and croaks out, "I'd... thought you'd left." "I did," Drake's hands fall back to his sides, "And I'm back, like I said I'd be. The rebels have a nice boat. Lemme buy you a drink? Or lemme buy me a drink and you can watch?" "A... a drink, aye," says Rell, lifting a hand and scrubbing it hard across her eyes. H'rruuk rowls, and Rell appends hoarsely, "If ye dinnae mind that H'rruuk comes with... 'tis his turn to be guardin' me..." "Not at all," Drake smiles faintly at the big lug. "I'll buy him a round, too--lead the way." "Back... into the Cafe, then... come ye, H'rruuk," Rell mumbles, shaken. She turns and steps back the way she'd come. You step through the open archway of the Cafe. The Meltdown Cafe - Lvl 601 - The Pot [Nar Shaddaa] Tired-sounding popular music drifts through the smoky room somewhat sluggishly, as more purposeful conversation centers around tables and booths dotted here and there about the room. Little expense has been devoted to decor here, as the place's purpose seems to be clusters of talk and drink. The tables are dirty, and chairs find new homes occasionally, at other tables or in the skulls of unfortunate beings. A circular bar is in the center of the room, lit from below by blue light, and a droid barman serves drinks there. A doorless archway leads out to the north. Obvious exits: Out Drake comes into the Cafe from the floor outside. Drake has arrived. Drake enters behind Rellawy, taking a quick look around the dreary establishment. Drake himself appears to be in relatively good cheer, weaving his way towards the nearest empty--and clean--table. H'rruuk lumbers in in Rell's wake, settling himself to look businesslike as the young woman under his protection takes a seat. "I... dinnae want to go to the Deck," Rell explains to the spacer beside her, without looking at him. "What's at the Deck that's bad?" Drake asks mildly. "Lerren been eating too many garlic pretzels?" H'rruuk rumbles softly, and Rell mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, "No... 'tis only... my day off. I had to get out." She glances at the dingy wall beside her, and says even more faintly, "There's no useful searchin' to be done there, either." Drake nods soberly; sympathetic, "No luck, then. Not an easy task you've set for yourself." He flags down a bardroid and orders nothing more than a glass of water. "Nice blaster rifle your friend has; those two thugs giving you any trouble?" Rell's eyes close, at that, and she murmurs bleakly, "They havenae accosted me again, but H'rruuk and H'rraal dinnae let me walk the levels alone." Drake's brows knit. "You invite it. You don't need me to tell you again that anywhere--anywhere but here's a better place to look for ... core, whatever you could possibly look for's better done anywhere else. You really think you can find her trail here, or ..." he pauses, takes a sip of his water, and looks up at her: "Or are you just afraid to leave?" The girl looks up, then, fixing the fair-haired man with a hollow but steady gaze. "It's here that I must find Kelga the Hutt," she replies, her voice very low. "A Hutt?" Drake's eyes widen. "What in blazes do you want with a Hutt? I've worked for one on occasion; less time spent around them, the better. But I'm sure you knew that, too." Rell's pale, exhausted features set themselves in lines of determination. "Aye," she says, "I know that." "How's this Hutt going to help you find her?" Drake asks, head cocked. "'Twas Kelga my father flew for, and 'tis Kelga who has what's left of my father's vessel." Rell keeps staring steadily at Drake, her expression wary, as though she expects to be scolded. "It'll be Kelga, too, who has my father's belongin's, and it's my father's holologs I'm needin'." Drake takes a moment to absorb that, looking thoughtful. "Sounds like a good move. Of course ... he'll want something for those logs." Rellawy's tone remains short. "Aye." "What've you got to give him?" Drake asks bluntly. Blue-green eyes flick to the wall, in brief mute worry. Then Rell sighs and murmurs, "I've a thousand, saved up from what Lerren's paid me. 'Tis nae much, but it's what I'll let him have of me." Drake winces. "That'll get you one shot, Rell, and that's it. Have you considered that there may be other ways to get these logs? Between Solo, your--friends--and myself, there's ... options." Frowning slightly, Rell says, "I willnae burden Captain Solo with this..." "Then burden me," Drake shrugs nonchalantly. "If it'll get you off this rock, I'll do it. It's just a Hutt, after all." Drake has never really crossed a Hutt, and consequently isn't aware of some of the problems one runs into with Hutts. Drake doesn't explain his more-than-willingness to more-than bend over backwards; he just expects it to be understood. "What would you be doin', then, if you had to get somethin' from a Hutt?" asks Rell, her brow crinkled. H'rruuk, listening to the murmured words between the two, rumbles out his own curiosity, though his beady gaze lingers on the girl. "The easiest way is to offer him some kind of service," Drake shrugs, "Carry something somewhere for him; remove someone he needs removed. Another option is to go in, get what you need, and get out. Depending on where it is, I may be able to do that without being noticed." Rell goes slightly paler. "I will do no 'removing'," she whispers. "And I have no ship, to be haulin' freight. Not any more." "I'm not talking about you," Drake chortles. "Maybe I haven't made it clear; My only purpose in all of this is keeping you alive," or so he says, "I'll remove, fly freight, or whatever I need to do to see that you stay alive. If you are what I think you are, the galaxy needs you alive, needs your line to continue." The young woman listens to this, her expression going tenser, tauter; finally, she says flatly, "I want no one harmed simply to get me what I seek!" "It's my job," Drake shakes his head. "If it's too dangerous for me, you think I'm going to let /you/ walk into it? This is what I do, Rell. It's what I've always done. I'm sorry; I know you didn't ask for it, but whatever it is that you have is important ... especially if you're the last who has that." Her mouth drawing together in a smaller line, Rell maintains sternly, "I dinnae care how important... what you say I have is. You willnae harm no one just to get me what I need, or else I'll not be wantin' your help!" "I have already harmed two people just to keep you /alive/--" Drake snorts. "You can't live on Nar Shaddaa and deal with Hutts peaceably all the time! I don't want to; I'm not supposed to, either. But if I'm there, and I can deal with the Hutt, then you'll have more on the table than you would just with your money. Even if you still end up paying him, it'll make the dealing easier." Visibly distraught, Rell does not immediately answer, and H'rruuk rumbles something stern-sounding at Drake; the young woman, however, clamps her eyes shut for a moment, her lashes looking suspiciously damp. She finally breathes out hoarsely, "Savin'... my life... was different." "Hutts don't deal honorably," Drake points out, "Around here, it isn't much of a jump from whatever you could be ostensibly doing to saving your life. You can't fool yourself. If you live around here, and deal with the people you want to deal with, there is a very large possibility that someone will get hurt. That is, after all, why you have a large bodyguard with a blaster rifle, isn't it?" "There is a _difference_," Rell snaps out tautly, "between dealin' harm to defend yourself.... and... and... agreein' to go harm someone for pay! Damn ye, Drake..." Her entire slim frame rigid, now, as though she's trying to force herself not to tremble, she grips the tabletop before her and finishes, "If ye cannae respect my wishes in this, I dinnae want your help!" Drake arches a brow. "My, my--I've no intention of harming someone for pay. It's against everything We stand for. There are ways of making people think things that are not true, Rell. Murder is not something I am capable of." The girl's eyes clamp shut again. "Then why were ye speakin' of removin' people?" "Because it is something the Hutt may want done," Drake shrugs. "And, if necessary, I can convince him that the job is done. But that is not something I would particularly care to bargain with." Troubled, Rellawy frowns down at the tabletop, murmuring, "Da's logs would not be worth that... surely...." Her gaze turns pained. "Personally? Your father's logs mean very little to me." Drake admits simply enough, draining his glass of water. "But if it'll keep you alive, it's worth that. You need it, fine. We'll get it." We. "And they will hopefully give you reason to get away from here." Rellawy does not look up, her expression remaining bleak; her voice, low. "What do you suggest we be doin', then?" she asks. Drake drums his fingers on the table. "You and I need to talk to this Hutt. Simple as that. Hopefully we can just deal with him straight, no complications." She looks up, then, and asks gravely, "Do you know how to be findin' a Hutt?" "I know how to find /a/ Hutt," Drake admits, "I'm not sure if it's -the- Hutt. But I can contact him, yes. It's a start." Rell releases a long, careful sigh, and murmurs, "Well then... a start." Drake grunts an acknowledgement. "I just hope that your father's logs are worth it," he says quietly, the first indication that he isn't really all that big on fetching things for errands. "And that you know what you're getting into." "If he logged what I hope," the girl says very softly, "then it will be worth it. As for kennin' what I'm gettin' into... " Rell sighs. "I've heard enough from Lerren, so far." "I imagine." Drake stands, straightens his cloak, and clasps Rellawy on the shoulder before turning to go. "I'm going to turn in and make sure I'm ready for whatever they might throw at us. See you tomorrow." Rell looks up at the man, then, and finally just nods, quietly. Her mouth curves up in a flicker of a smile, but it passes as quickly as it comes. Drake strides out of the cafe, pushing the door open before him as he walks out. Drake steps out through the open doorway to the north. Drake has left. [End log.]