In the cockpit of the Bantha, Rhijans keeps a close watch on the nearer wrecked ships and, more particularly, on the hiding places they provide. 

Jalt stops dead in his tracks.  "There's a security post ahead that never used to be there." he mutters.  A short distance along the hall, a group of men in a motley assortment of armour are clustered around a desk which partly blocks the way, and produces a bottleneck.

The men stop a hooded figure, and seem to be talking to it for a short while, before allowing it to pass...

Rhijans focused on the group, assessing them by the way they moved, trying to determine if they might be a problem...and if they were, whether it was a problem that could be handled with a stern word and a hand on a holstered blaster from the base of the ramp, or whether it might take something more, like powering up the turret and pointing the ship's guns at the group...

Juragga straightened and grinned at Shard's mandate.  "GrrrrrrrrAAAAAAAAAWwwwr," he commented.

About time.

Rising up to his full height, he cast his teal eyes about like spotlights, his posture adopting a distinct promise of menace.

"This isn't good," Shard notes, studying the blockade from the corner of one eye while moving to the side of the thoroughfare. "Jalt, your reading on it?  You know this place better than I - we stand a chance of getting through it, or is it something we should try to avoid?"

OOC - Sorry for the short post, just trying to catch up - thought I had already replied!

Jalt shakes his head.  "This is new.  Dargo has pretty tight security, but there was never a post here before.  I know a few of his people, so we might be all right.  But I don't know why he has extra security, and I don't know what it might mean for us."

Up ahead, a couple of Humans, or near-Humans, pass through the checkpoint...

Rhijans scowled, watching the group approach.  He wasn't ready to go confront them yet, but he made sure the blaster was loose in its holster.  "Colonel...?  Might need you to drop into the bottom turret, just to help shoo away some of the locals..."  He didn't intend to go direct to threats...but it wouldn't hurt to have something that said 'GO AWAY' in unmistakable terms.

"Not much choice, then," Shard states.  "I guess we're going to have to chance it - we need to get your parts, or we're not going anywhere fast." She glances to the others in the group. "Haarmon?  Juragga?  Any ideas, or do we just see what comes up?"

If it's talking, she's confident Haarmon can get them through.  If it's violence, well...Juragga will already be right in their faces.

"GrOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWR," Juragga voted. Let's just bull through.

He sounded almost eager.

"Might be a good time to switch to Plan B." Jalt oppines, with a shrug.  Then, "Interesting.  Nobody coming out is being stopped, only the ones going in."

Rhijans nodded, standing at the back of the cockpit, ready to head for the boarding ramp if they kept approaching.  "If necessary, I'll go out and encourage them to be about their business elsewhere...I'm hoping a civil word or two will be all that's needed, but if not, well...a little fire support goes a long way."

The Rebels approach the checkpoint and, as expected, one of the guards on duty steps forward to block their path, while two more stand behind him, and a little to each side, with blasters very casually pointed almost exactly away from the group.

"What business do you have here?"

Jalt squares up to the man, "That's between me and Dargo."

"Really?  Then it will still be between you and Dargo some time next week."

"Wait!  Wait!  Let's not be hasty.  I'm here to trade for parts for my ship, that's all.  I know Dargo, and figured he'd be most likely to be able to get them.  These are my crew, here to help me carry the stuff if I can get it."

The guard ponders this for a moment, then steps aside.

Jalt leads the way onward, and into Dargo's audience chamber, and stops dead...

There are two Hutts in the room, and they look to be on friendly terms...

"Right...." Rhijans muttered.  He started for the ramp.

"Seems they want to parlay...with a little luck, we actually speak the same language."  He paused, at the top of the ramp, checking that his blaster was deep enough in the holster to not fall as he walked, but loose enough that he could pull it in a hurry.  "Cover me...if this goes ugly, be ready to toast the lot of them."

He walked down the ramp, eyes searching to verify that the group he'd seen approaching was the only group in the area, and walked up to what was the apparent spokesman for the group, without saying anything.  He stopped, about five meters away, and looked at the being analytically, arms loosely held to his sides, ready to move but not conspicuously close to the blaster.

Well, they hadn't needed to bull through...but Shard isn't certainly that wouldn't have been the best choice after all.

Hutts, plural.

Friendly Hutts, plural.

Which means they're probably not from the same clutch, or whatever Hutts call it.  But friendly Hutts, plural, that's probably not a good thing.

I hope that's not Oomba... It's so hard to tell them apart.  "I'm sorry," she says, bowing (and making sure the murder-stick is on a part of her belt hidden by her cloak).  "Perhaps this is not a good time?"  Option two - discarded - was to start by running, but running implies both prey and guilt, and she wants to avoid implanting those ideas if possible.

Jalt shakes his head, "Not Oomba, no.  No scars.  But that doesn't mean it isn't working for Oomba."

The Hutts glance at the newcomers, and one of them actually appears to recognise Jalt.  Then the other one drags him back into their own conversation...  "Da sa porko nopa yoka che Jabba.  Hees niboba murishani koose noleeya Solo.  Chuba stuka, hees wamma chuba porkman, chuba settah."

The one who recognised Jalt, presumably Dargo, starts to laugh... a low, rumbling sound...

Rhijans nodded at the question, and listened to the offer.  "Not the captain.  I'm just keeping it safe while the captain talks to Dargo.  Ask him when he comes back."  He stopped short of asking why they needed to charter a flight...he was pretty sure that was a major breach of what little protocol existed in the world of back-water smugglers.

He did have one question that might be helpful.  "You have something besides Imperial credits?  We can take them...but our captain might prefer some other form of payment."  It was the one question he could think of that might suss out just how Imperial they were, without advertising the crew's decidedly anti-Imperial sentiments.

Haarmon had been following along quietly, watching everything, trying not to look too scared. He found his hand dipping to the butt of his pistol again and again at every noise or sudden movement. He had almost broken himself of that habit but this was all pretty scary.

"Looks like he's real happy to see you," Haarmon muttered, sourly. "Looks like this is going to go easy after all."

He started eyeing exits.

Just in case.

Jalt frowns and gestures to Haarmon to wait while he listens to the conversation, "Near as I can make out, somebody called Solo has done something to upset somebody called Jabba, probably a Hutt, and bounty hunters have been contracted to find him.  It's nothing to do with us.  We just have to wait our turn while the Hutts deal with their own business."

"We should be good.  Hmmm... some of Dargo's people are taking an interest in us."

He's right, at various points around the room, eyes have turned towards the Rebel team, and there seems to be a certain amount of whispering going on...

Haarmon squinted his eyes and leaned in to his compatriots. "I can't follow his syntax. Does he have Imperial credits or does he want Imperial credits? And do we even have any?"

Shard restrains herself from slapping Haarmon's hand away from his pistol; she understands his feelings, all-too-well.  And sympathizes.  Enormously.  "Wouldn't want to be Solo," she murmurs, glad it's less about Jalt and more about whomever this person happens to be.  "Aaaaand...you're right.  We're being watched.  Maybe it's because we're new, maybe it's because...well, someone knows something and word is getting around."

Like, the fact that they have a ship.

"I'm not sure," she whispers in reply to Haarmon.  "I'm not familiar with this language...."  But she does peer at one of the staring personalities.

Find the balance.

Reach out.

Connect.

This message was deleted by the player at 21:50, Fri 27 Apr 2018.

"Chuba nopa koochoo.  Jabba porko lorda.  Soong mo gootu da hees do pateesa."

Dargo grumbles, "Mi stuka da!  Dobrah nopa maja!"

Jalt smiles, "The other Hutt is trying to explain that this Jabba is powerful, and it would be good if he owed Dargo something.  Dargo apparently doesn't like having simple stuff like that explained to him."

Rhijans' face tightened, and he asked, "Is there someone here we should be concerned about seeing us talk to you?"  His voice took on any icy tone.  "We've got a droid aboard who doesn't react well to strangers...we can talk out here, but if we should be aware of someone looking for you, it could impact the asking price for your ride."  His eyes flicked quickly, scanning the wreckage yard/spaceport for anyone that might be watching their discussion, before settling again on the individual in front of him.

Juragga just drew himself up to his full height and folded his arms across his shaggy chest, glowering menacingly.

"Good call, Juragga."  Indirectly intimidating without pushing anyone specific; just the sort of thing to keep people from approaching too close.  Shard stares around the room, looking somewhat unfocused.  Gradually her sidelong gaze settles upon one man - a human, from the look - for a moment longer than the others, then slides away.  Slowly, she breathes out, and her gaze sharpens.

"I'm fairly sure, now, that word is out that there's a new ship," she quietly murmurs.  "One fellow over there knows you, Jalt, and is considering setting up something for a delivery off this world.  I'm betting it's something similar with most, if not all of the others; we're either new faces, or they know you and are looking to get some use out of that."

She elbows the smuggler in the side, but lightly.  "Hey.  You're famous."

On the platform, the Hutts continue their conversation...

Jalt grins at Shard, "I bet I'm not as famous as Solo will be if this Jabba finds him.  By the sound of it, he'll be used as an example."

"A very messy example."

Across the room, the man whose mind Shard had probed stands and starts towards the group.  He's wearing a poncho, which he throws back over his shoulder to reveal the heavy blaster at his right hip.  His hand stays well clear of the weapon though...

Two Ubese follow him across the room...