Having spent the last little while either moping in exhausted despair or stalking the corridors in a caffeine-fuelled fury, Shard is more than ready to leave the ship.  In fact, she has her gear ready and is standing at the airlock, tightly gripping a handhold, when the crewmen appear.

It's with effort that she keeps herself from snapping at them to hurry.

Instead, the older woman turns to her com-link.  ~ Thank you, Captain - that's good advice, and I'll certainly have it in the front of my head.  If my team will assemble at the airlock, post haste? ~

It comes out deceptively quiet, a poofy velvet covering over the razorblade of her tension.  Not fair to take her stress and lack of alcohol out on the captain, Shard reasons.

Or her teammates, she supposes after a beat.

While he managed to keep himself from showing many visual signs of it...and none of them blatant...Rhijans was well beyond ready to leave the ship when the landing cycle was announced.  It was one thing for him to choose to sit and wait, when he felt that's what the situation demanded...it was another thing to have no other choice left open to him, due to someone else's demands.

So he was only a couple of steps behind Shard when it came time to disembark.  "Hope the trip back isn't as boring," he muttered, barely audible to anyone within a couple of meters of him.

Juragga was thrilled to be getting out of that cage.  "GRAAAUUUUR," he commented loudly, the Wookiee equivalent of 'Thank the Force'.

Haarmon started in mid-snore and sat straight up in surprise, crying out "I'm awake!" He stopped a moment. Blinked a couple of times. Realized he had quite a bit of drool on his chin. His eyes darted to Shard as he blushed bright, bright red and turned away and wiped it off.

"Wuzzat?" he said, his voice still thick with sleep. "We here?"

"He agrees," Shard mumbles in answer to Rhijans, jerking a thumb in Juragga's direction, "and probably not.  Likely it'll be panicked flight punctuated with a turbolaser barrage."

She shoots a quick look at Haarmon, noting the mouthwipe but not the drool.  "We're up, Haarmon.  Landing soon.  Let's all look sharp and see if we can't at least get to the meeting without an issue." Easy to say, but between the noise, the vibration, and the lack of ethanol lubrication, her head is pounding.

The first thing that happens when the cargo lock opens is a wave of sound rolls in from outside.  Voices.  A lot of voices.  The ramp drops, and reveals at least a hundred people outside, of nearly as many assorted races, and all of them are waving limbs to attract attention and shouting in their various languages.

A line of bored looking armed guards, again of various races, seems to be all that's keeping them away from the ship.

"Oh... how unpleasant.  Is it any wonder that I loathe organics?" You-Why says, with a perfectly rendered sigh, "They are all trying to sell us various things, mainly substances which would be illegal on most civilised planets."


There is a shift in the positions of the guards, and a hooded figure is striding towards the ship.  As it approaches, it lowers the hood to reveal that it's a Gran, it's three eyes swivelling on their stalks as it regards the strangers.  It yells something, which You-Why dutifully translates, "This is Cobac Sneel.  He says he is able to provide us with anything we need."

"UHHHhhhhhRRuuuh," Juragga warns. Remember not to take the first transport.

Haarmon nodded in agreement.

"Rags says this guy's a chump. Well he heavily implied it anyway. And I think he paid off the guards or something. I say we tell him to take a hike."

And by 'we' he meant Juragga and/or Rhijans.

Rhijans looked at the Gran.  "Thanks, we're looking for someone specific and it isn't you."  He let one hand rest near the butt of his blaster...not overtly threatening but leaving little doubt that he could turn to that as an option...and looked over and around the Gran as though searching for someone else.  The gesture also hopefully sent the message that Sneel was in the way...

Translating Rhijan's reply, the protocol droid actually seems a bit happier.  Which could be true - he's doing something he was constructed for, and there are those persistent rumours that droids are programmed to get pleasure from doing their job.

More unintelligible sounds from the Gran, and then, "He says that he understands perfectly if we are not here to see him, but adds that he can offer transport to Oomba's palace at a lower price than anybody else, if that is what we wish."

More movement from the cordon, and the guards allow two more people through, a Humanoid female with ornate facial tattoos, and a male Twi'lek with greenish skin.

The Gran seems to grow agitated as the pair make their way across the intervening space, "This disgusting creature uses a lot of profanity when he is excited, but I think he is saying that both of the newcomers will cheat us, no matter what we ask them for."

"He also says that you will not be able to get death sticks anywhere else for a better price than he offers.  Oh...  Oh, dear.  He says that he might as well cut off one of his own eyes, but he is prepared to do sell at such a low price because he likes the look of us.  Even if it means selling his mate and offspring to Oomba, because he will not be able to feed them."

Rhijans looked at the Gran, his expression hardening, and make a gesture of dismissal.  Without looking away, he angled his face slightly to UY-3PO.  "I'm sure those two will tell us the same thing about him, and give us similar sob stories about how much they'll suffer for making us a hot deal.  We're not interested, so move on and stop making a spectacle of yourself."  His hand settled more securely on the grip of his blaster, to punctuate the sentiment.

Well, all right then.  Rhijans has a ton more experience with this sort of element than she does; Shard elects to take a step back and not stick her nose in.  "'Heavily implied'?" she queries Haarmon with a cocked eyebrow, but can't help laughing anyway.

Stress, maybe.  Desperation from lack of lubrication?  Haarmon being a funny guy?

Probably all three, she decides.

"My guess is it's going to be tricky to find someone dependable here," she mutters to the other two, "who won't sell us to slavers or deliver us into the hands of a street gang."

Of course, just having Juragga along will change some minds about that kind of plotting.

Haarmon smiles at Shard's laughter. He adopted a mock-serious, sagacious expression. "Wookie is a delicate, subtle language. Lots of nuance. Gotta pay attention. Am I right, Rags?"

He was also watching Rhijans and the Gran do their thing. He tried to be ready in case the badness started going down.

Ready to do what, he wasn't sure.

The Gran's shoulders slump, as You-Why translates Rhijan's words.  Then the approaching locals get closer.  The woman is the more direct, stating quite plainly and loudly, "Ignore Cobac Sneel, his prices low because inferior goods.  You want somethings, I gots it.  I don't gots it, then you not really wants it.  Best prices I for all best goods."  She shoves the Gran aside, sending the creature staggering and sprawling on the ferrocrete landing pad.

The Twi'lec is a little more circumspect, stopping just outside her reach he bows to Rhijans, and smiles before bowing his head, "Chuto nava glees."  Then he lifts his head, still smiling, before laying a hand in the centre of his own chest, "Nar dut chygo daruffa gwa."

"Sir,he says the female lies, and that he is the only one you should trust."

The droid's translation brings an angry exclamation from the woman, who pulls a vibroknife from inside her sleeve.  "I not lies.  Him lies."

Rhijans looked at the woman coldly.  "I don't know.  From what I'm seeing right now, there's at least two things you don't have that I need.  A little respect is one of them.  Shove off, before I have the Wookiee give you a dental cleaning with your own lizard-sticker."  Again, his hand hovered close to the blaster...and his stance shifted slightly.  Those accustomed to combat or fighting in general might recognize the stance as being ready to move...either withdraw if it was needed, or press the attack if the situation called for it.

I hope to hell Karja knew what she was talking about when she said take the third one...

"Oh, for...."

Disgruntled, Shard shifts around the trio, one hand slipping into her robe.  If things explode into violence....well, they shouldn't.  If they did every single time people in this group accused each other of lying, there'd be less of them.  Considerably.  Or more scarring, at the least.

Positioning herself between the Gran and his assailant - but angled so she can keep an eye on the woman - she holds out her free hand to give assistance.  "You all right?"  Hopefully her tone will make the point.

With a little assistance from Shard, the Gran gets up.  He starts to dust himself down, then stops as he notices a cut on one hand (not the one that had accepted Shard's offer.    He starts on a series of low grunts and groans, which could mean anything, but sound unhappy for the most part. 

You-Why is happy to translate, at least the gist of the alien's words, if not the actual content, "He says that he will have swift and terrible vengeance for her attack upon his person."

The Twi'lek bows deep, from the waist this time, "Ahah!  You speaks Basic.  Good-good much!  I self has little Basic.  Named I Jik Heshnos.  Much has I to sell.  Qual-ity best, price best much."  This little speech is accompanied by an almost continuous flow of hand gesture and head bowing.

"Offers I supplies, drink-ing spirits, rent trans-port, buy weapon.  All much today.  You wait for two day, can sell trans-port.  More weapon then too too.  Beshawa wepo gishadi nepoo shar nal chyobo derad."

"He has more stock coming late tomorrow, if we can wait."

The female trader, meanwhile is standing watching Shard, head cocked to one side, as if she is sizing her up...

Rhijans watched the situation between the woman, the Gran, and Shard out of the corner of one eye while the Twi'lek gave him what Rhijans assumed was a standardized line of patter about goods and services available.

For a moment, he looked a little torn.  "Excuse me, just one moment..." he said to the Twi'lek, before stepping to the side, approaching but not stopping within reach of either the woman or the Gran.

"Hey, if you've got matters of honor, go settle them somewhere else.  We're done with you both...go deal with your social matters in front of someone else's ship."  Not only was his hand on his blaster as he spoke, but he lifted the blaster just enough to show that it was sitting loosely in the holster--ready to draw and, presumably, fire.

Shard was next to the Gran...so he focused his attention on the woman.  The hard edge on his expression left absolutely no doubt that he would, indeed, hit--or, more likely in this case, shoot--a woman.  Chivalry had very limited application in his world.

"Thanks, You-Why," Shard mutters, her grasp of the language incomplete.  She narrows her eyes at Gran's injury.  While comprehending a few words of the Gran's language - 'sorry' being one of them - Shard sadly can't manage the language itself, in much the same way she's simply not equipped to speak to Juragga in his own language.

But he probably understands the same amount of Basic at the least, so.... "Sorry," the woman states, pointing at the cut on his hand as Rhijans takes issue with the woman's stare. "You need a bandage?"  She mimes wrapping something around his hand.  Keeping the woman in the corner of her eye, the older woman speaks quickly to You-Why. "You-Why, can you explain that I'd be happy to help with this, if he lays off the horrible vengeance thing?  We're visitors, and we'd be happier if this trip didn't start with spilled blood.  Or my friends -" a thumb flick toward Rhijans and Haarmon, accompanied by a glare at the woman "- burning someone down where they stand because we get caught in it."

A small smile follows, more an amused baring of teeth than anything.  It's pretty obvious where her animosity is directed, and it's not at the Gran.  "Or my other friend pulling off someone's arm and beating them with the soggy end."

There's a third option, but Shard doesn't want it widely known.  It wouldn't be the first time she has pit the murder-stick against a vibro-blade; it's never comfortable, but as of yet, the metal weapons always come up short.

Much like their user, a moment later.

None of this will likely be necessary, given Rhijans own watchful gaze, unless the woman throws all common sense to the wind.

Seeing things are tense and confrontational, Juragga draws himself up to his full height and rumbles menacingly.

That usually inclined people to knock it off.

The woman looks as though she might be prepared to fight Shard or Rhijans, or both... until Juragga adds his own views to the conversation, at which point the blade goes away, followed almost immediately by its owner, who soon after becomes involved in a heated discussion with one of the guards, a Barabel, still maintaining a cordon in front of the ship. "She is demanding a refund for some service.  She claims that something she paid for did not materialise.  The Barabel says that is not his fault."

Then You-Why goes back to talking to the Gran, "He says that the injury is not severe, and that if there is no business for him here, then he must try somewhere else."

The Gran checks the ground, to make sure he hasn't dropped anything, then grumbles something to Shard and Rhijans and waits while the protocol droid translates-

"He thanks you both for listening to his business proposal, and for the offer of treatment for his wound."

As soon as the droid stops speaking, the alien inclines his head in a nod, and starts towards the cordon, being careful to aim for a point as far away as possible from his rival.

Which leaves the Twi'lek standing there with a broad smile on his face...

Rhijans watched the would-be combatants walk away, thankful they didn't have to shoot anyone up.  Even in a place like this, blasting someone in front of your own ship was bound to attract attention, and that was something he was very interested in avoiding.

Well...Karja, so help me, if you told us wrong...  He gave a mental sigh of resignation and turned to the Twi'lek.  "You say you can get us anything we need?  I hear there's a consignment of laborers that just came up on the market...we could use them.  Can you make that happen?"  His expression was cool, detached...without a sign of the hard edge that had been present when he'd threatened to shoot the woman if she started trouble on his doorstep.

Haarmon had some real doubts about this 'third skiff's the charm' business. It is always the third skiff? Like, always? Do they do a little dance and decide which one is going to come approach them first and the third one gives the best prices? Or did the skeezier ones just move faster?

But, the other three seemed on board. So who was he to complain?

He kept quiet. But he watched carefully. Just in case it all went south. Or whatever direction was the bad one here...

"Bantha poodoo!" Jik Heshnos mutters.  To his credit, the Twi'lek never loses his smile, though his skin does pale a little, "Talk you about slaves?  Oomba only sell slaves.  No can others.  Is what call mono-poly.  Oomba harsh deal with others if think he they sell slaves.  You want these workers, must speak to Hutt.  Can I for take you see him.  Small fee, only cover expenses, no more."

Then he bows, and spreads his hands, "Much smaller fee can I find you transport.  Tell you where find Oomba.  You go see without I.  This prefer I, but will come if needed.  Takes I less than one hour find transport.  Best transport only.  Fast.  Safe.  Not fail."

"Thanks, Juragga."  Shard lets the Gran go with a small bow, then memorizes the woman's face.  "Something wrong with that one.  Looks ready to fight anyone and everyone." The older woman snorts a laugh. "Except a Wookie.  So she's not completely loonie."

Her eyes narrow at You-Why's notation.  "Thanks, You-Why.  Looks like she bribed the guards to allow her in first so she could get a customer.  Probably how she has to work, given her delicate flower of a personality.  Still, we should keep our eyes open for her in the future."

They need to choose someone to help them, and this Jik Heshnos seems to at least be straightforward...as much as possible in this place.  And giving them a transport, that also seems on the level.  Probably rented from his cousin, but if they're going to see Oomba, and that becomes known, chances are nobody will want to mess with them.

Until it's time for them to LEAVE, of course.