Although the more hung over members of the crew might not know it, Devon had been up for several hours and had even emerged from his room twice; although possibly only the cleaning droids had seen him the first two times.

The first time Devon had emerged, he'd been wearing a pair of short and a bath robe.  Whistling cheerfully he'd ambled over to what was left of the buffet, stepping over various piles of mess and the occasional comatose person.  Having filled a tray with whatever he could find that still looked edible and grabbed a miraculously still-intact bottle, he'd ambled back to his room, closing and locking the door behind him.

The second time Devon emerged was nearly an hour later, fully dressed  and carrying the now almost empty bottle in one hand.  His other arm was round the waist of the falleen woman he'd disappeared with the night before.  Heads close together and talking quietly, the two of them had picked their way through the mess and headed to the turbo lifts where they'd exchanged goodbyes and a final kiss.  After the lift doors closed, Devon had finished the bottle in one long swallow before plonking the empty bottle on top of a nearby cleaning droid and ambling back to his room with a happy smile on his face.

When CC9 pounded on his door for the second time - after the half hour warning - Devon emerged rubbing his eyes and looking like he'd just been napping fully clothed in an effort to catch up on lost sleep.  Waving the droid off before CC9 did something awful to him, Devon headed for the lifts; quickly catching up with a dripping wet Duros whom he quietly supported.  Flash looked barely capable of staying upright, never mind walking in a straight line.  Devon was in far too good a mood to leave Flash to suffer his hangover alone, so he kept the Duros upright and did all the steering as the two of them made their way to the Oiled Rancor

All the way there, Devon radiated the sort of good mood that could be detected from orbit, which probably wasnt helping Flash's mood any...

Sheila follows the boys down, blinking.  In a while, she will be truly with it, free of vomiting and free of pain although somewhat high, is good enough for right now.  She was still trying to put together last night.

Flash grunted when Devon came up beside him.  "Don't ask." was all he muttered to Devon in form of greeting.

As they walked he began mumbling to himself in his native tongue, often nonsensically.  [Language unknown: Andile escom ic.  Ncebe ati al our thuherconlin m olti pltio ouonli m ivtrck les We li om kor.  Undardcon ic wh.  Icec witterureart ie Thoul?  Ceee som laten.  Inpl t ted ate Ss comnd trter his.]

Glancing over his shoulder, Devon nods a silent (Flash would probably kill him if he made any noise) but cheerful 'good morning' to Sheila.
The shipjacker was fairly obviously suffering far far less than either Sheila or Flash.  When he stopped to think about it, he hadn't done too much drinking last night; there had been at least one bottle they he and Lessendra had shared... but really worst he could really complain about was a slight headache, a few muscular aches and a lack of sleep...

Nodding sympathetically at Flashs ongoing monologue, Devon steered his suffering companion through the hotel lobby, out onto the street and flagged down a taxi.  Deposting Flash reasonably gently inside, Devon waited for Sheila before he got in himself and told the droid pilot where they were headed.

"Good night?" he asked as the taxi started moving.

Flash grumbled.  His hangover remedy was starting to kick in a little but his head still felt like someone was hitting it with a sledgehammer.  Damn it, why couldn't the driver keep his taxi fixed.  It was so loud surely people in orbit could hear it.

He forced himself to answer Devon's question.  "Interesting night.  Kimy and I may have made some new friends.  Gonna tell the boss about 'em.  Rest of the night is still hazy."

Seeing none of the others had arrived yet, Heigren ordered a second whisky and a serve of whatever passed for breakfast.  Taking the whisky with him, he moved to wherever Mark and/or Zyra were sitting.

Draining his second glass, he grinned then spoke up.  "Before you emasculate me or whatever else you have planned, I need to tell you a few things about last night."

He then proceeds to talk about the night before.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:34, Sat 23 Nov 2013.

Mark listened intently to Heigren as he spoke but said little.  He was heartily tucking into a large breakfast of spiced nerf sausage, corellian eggs over easy, sullustian mushrooms, huge rashers of bacon and toast.  All of this washed down with a large mug of caf that he filled from a pot before him.

He was highly animated as he ate, but spoke little.  He left Zyra to respond to take Heigren's report.  He casually checked his chrono, wondering what was keeping the others.

Zyra turned her nose up slightly at Mark's choice of breakfast.  Her berry crepe compote was more than heavy enough for her this time of morning.  Combined with a herbal tea, to settle her stomach and revive her tiredness.  Whilst she hadn't attended the party she had gotten little sleep.  So much had happened last night.

She flicked between various screens on her datapad.  Between recording the information Heigren was sharing, checking spaceport schedules and flicking through various financial balance sheets, she barely touched her breakfast.  So much to do and only a few hours to do it in.

Arin had cruised to the table and seated him, only to have a waitress bring in a dish that rivalled the Commander's breakfast in both volume and diversity. There was bantha-milk yogurt, easily produced anywhere, some fried meat, some sort of flatbread and a number of things that most likely seemed inedible to anyone, who was more than moderately hung over. The ex-Imperial kept grinning at the thought of those sullen faces that signified too much drinks last night, as he had only had a few and made the conscious choice to retire in to his own room withonly himself for company before barricading the door well enough to keep any attempt short of blowing the door in futile.

Mark appraised Arin's breakfast selection.  "You should try the bacon Mr Dann.  They use some sort of spicy honey glaze.  It's excellent."

"From your appearance I would assume you didn't party as hard as some of your colleagues.  Didn't they teach you how to drink hard and play harder in your former life?"

Mika makes her way into the place and takes a minute to orient herself.  Seeing the others, she moves on over and takes a seat.  "Morning all."  When the time comes, she orders some fruit juice and pastries with more fruit, preserves, honey and cream.  Munching on that, she opts for a griddle cake and eggs, which she rolls up and eats with her hands.  And with it, a fruit-flavored jizz pop.

"They most certainly did, Mr. Blossomdancer", he said, barely keeping his face from turning in to a grin when he used the surname of the commander's cover identity. "But I also learned to be at the top of my game in the mornings after. Nothing spoils your day at work worse than being hung over and trying to hold your breakfast confined while flying. As for the bacon, I've got it stashed here somewhere." It was most probable, the plate could have hidden a small Imperial Fleet underneath all that food.

Flash stumbled from the taxi when it arrived and staggered into the cantina.  Making his way to the bar he gripped it tightly like a lover and growled.  "Caf, strong and lots of it.  And whatever passes for breakfast, the higher in grease and protein the better."

He points to the table where the Talons are seated and then staggers over and collapses in a chair.  An audible squish is heard as Flash's still-wet clothes soak the chair and floor.

Heigren snorted at Arin's claim.  The concept of partying hard and being top of your game next day were mutually exclusive.  Besides, he knew Arin had barely engaged in any festivities.  His disdain turned into a huge grin as Flash approached.  He pushed out a chair for the Duros then toasted him with the new glass of whisky the serving droid had brought him.  "Now THERE'S a person who enjoyed themselves!"

Having paid for the taxi, Devon sauntered in whilst Flash was busy collapsing into his seat.  The shipjacker looked his normal cheerful self, if somewhat sleep deprived.
Having already had a very enjoyable breakfast-in-bed a couple of hours earlier, Devon limited his order to a bacon sandwich and a large mug of caf.

"Well" he said, glancing round as he sat down "I'd say Forim is by far our worst casualty, but I'm fairly certain some of that is down to friendly fire from CC9."
Devon stretched, yawned hugely and made a doomed-to-fail attempt to smooth down his nasty case of bed hair.
"To be honest, I only just got out of my room in time to avoid being added to the body count.

Mark looked up from attacking the mountain of food to appraise Flash's appearance.  The clearly hung-over look was their to see.  The Duros had obviously been partying hard and late.  The fact he was soaking wet was a mystery, but Devon's comments cleared that up.  He'd come of a lot worse from various parties he'd attended while an officer cadet at the Chandrillan Defence Force Academy.  Sheila looked similar, though not as bad as Flash.  Devon, well he looked tired but not hungover.  Mark would have been stumped except for the perpetual goofy grin stuck on the shipjacker's face.  He wondered if Devon even realises it was there.

He returned to consuming his breakfast.  He wanted to finish before Cor's representative showed.  He doubted the Umbaran would attend in person.

Zyra put down her fork and looked around.  "Well we only seem to be missing Sola, so I'd like to cover two things while we wait since one she already knows, the other doesn't really concern her."

"Firstly, you'll be happy to know that the sale of the assets from our previous mission has concluded and you've all received your pay from our previous job.  It's twenty times more than the initial payment you received so that should ensure you have a fun holiday."

Zyra gave that a moment to sink in.  Since their 'initial payment' had been 5000 credits she let them chew on the fact they were all one hundred thousand credits richer.

"The second point is the party.  I imagine a few of you might have something to say about that.  Let me start by saying I knew about it, though not due to a formal invitation.  However that aside, there was no risk to our company and Vyn is covering the costs out of his own funds.  In short, the boss and I consider the matter closed unless anyone has a specific issue to raise."


OOC:  Be sure to add 100,000 to your credit amounts in your 'equipment'.  Any unclaimed monies become mine!  Good think Mika got her credit chip back or Fiarr would have been a lot richer then she bargained for today!

Heigren whistled quietly.  The payday had been better then he thought.  He'd been gambling on his pay from the last job being enough to cover party expenses and fortunately he'd come up aces.  It had been a risk to throw such a lavish party when he couldn't be sure of having the money to cover it.  But without risk, where's the fun.

He called to the waiter for another whisky.  Given all the complaints he'd got last night about the party, he imagined people would have a lot to say now Zyra had asked.

CC9 stomps in belatedly with A9 at his side.  Not being built to either sit nor eat he does neither but instead stands near the table looking threatening and, very likely, drawing no small amount of attention from the patrons of the cantina.  That special kind of 'if we don't look there won't be trouble' attention.

A9 wheels in looking... can a droid look cheerful?  Can an astromech avoid looking cheerful?  He looks like a rubbish can with a slick red-and-white paint job and lights on, in any case, but he's beeping cheerfully enough.

[Language unknown: "...oubut ard t o re lael inewheear aveen conthakor.  Nte hi ort utiou n proentbut lar e ro."]

Mika gives a soft whistle at the news.  She was fairly buoyant as to the resolution of her difficulties from the night before and this went far to erase any residual annoyance she might have had.  She has no idea what to spend it on, but she could take her time and consider.

Mark finished eating and pushed his plate away.  After a few moments and a healthy swig on his caf, he addressed the group.

"You'll have time to mentally spend your credits later.  For now I'd like to go over the reasons I brought you here.  For once the reasons are all good."

"Firstly, the lockout on the hangar is now lifted.  You may all access the hangar and the ship whenever you please."  He aimed his comment primarily at Mika though it had been for everyone.

"Now the big news is Sarah and I have to leave.  We've been temporarily been recalled to active duty."  He stopped for a moment as if unsure how to proceed, which was unusual for the commander.

"There's to be a meeting.  Several of the largest companies in our industry are getting together.  They're talking about banding together on a permanent basis.  Can you imagine it?  All the various companies coming together to challenge our major competitior together.  It's something we've dreamed of for decades."

"Anyway, a transport will be picking the two of us up this afternoon.  This means you'll have the rest of the fortnight to enjoy yourselves without us around.  The hotel expenses are already covered and the ship is waiting for you when you're done.  I hereby instruct you to enjoy yourselves.  There may be a lot of work for us when we return.  We'll meet back at home base in two weeks time."

"There are two things I need you all to do however.  Firstly, Vyn tells me that there were three promising candidates at the party last night.  Investigate them.  If you think they'd make worthy members of the team, bring them back to base when you leave for a formal interview.  Secondly, we need you to deal with a Twi'lek fixer who was meant to be getting us supplies.  Vyn reports he's been trying to ferret out information on our group.  Ensure he's not a security risk, purchase supplies from him if they're of good quality.  Take care of him if he's a threat."

"Questions?"

A9 lets out a whistle.  It sounds slightly awed.

"Er, I have a question," Cor speaks through her astromech servitor, "the potential conglomeration you speak of - is this a theoretically galaxy-wide enterprise or a primary localised one?"

Arin grinned at the thought of 100,000 credits. A small donation from each and every one of them and they'd be able to buy new fighters or upgrade the older ones. Either way, it'd be worth it. But there were more important matters at hand. The actual leadership of the group was effectively heading out and thus, there was one question that kept emerging past all the other thoughts. "If you two are leaving us here, who is going to be in charge while you are away", the ex-Imperial officer asked. It wasn't a question implying he should be in charge of the remaining Talons, but more a question to figure out, how they were going to run thingsuntil the reunion with the command. To a soldier, the chain of command was important.