Roka Zale sat bolt upright in his private bunk aboard [i]The Steadfast[/i], his personal ship currently docked securely to [i]The Swift Fortune[/i]. The Captain's request rang through his ship's comms, and Roka groaned as he shook his head. Seemed the closer they got to Alderaan, the worse his head felt. He shot a knowing glance at one of the hidden compartments in his room, within easy reach. He could take one now, dull that pain and watch the ship drop out of hyperspace in an even more beautiful fashion than normal... But Vikargo would probably find out, and Roka didn't want to risk this job, especially before it had even begun. Job like this could last months easy. Steady pay, decent work, nearly legal even. Roka needed that, or else he'd start to fall behind on his payments.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bunk, Roka staggered to his feet, tightening his belt and slipping on his vest before tying the laces of his heavy boots up. Best to go see what Cap wants now. Navigating the narrow corridors of the YT-2000 freighter with ease, Roka opened the airlock leading into the larger ship. Coughing slightly at the recycled air of half a dozen living creatures, Roka shoved his hands into his pockets, surprising himself when he felt a small glass tube buried at the bottom of one. Pulling it out as he rounded a corner, Roka smiled to himself as he saw the viscous purplish liquid inside; a full Death Stick. Rolling it in his fingers, Roka tucked it into his palm, resolving to take care of his business after this meeting.

Arriving at the door to the common room, Roka paused for a moment to take stock of what he'd be walking into. Thanks to his Balosar heritage, he could feel the swells of emotion behind the door signifying the people inside. There was the brooding, seething dark spot that signified their dear employer Areem Vikargo, some small undercurrent of satisfaction coming from him as well. Retreating through another hallway was the telltale signature of a beacon of innocence, hope, and a healthy dose of fear. Probably the kid who'd stowed away. Decent enough, aside from the whole stowaway thing. Roka had planned on seeing how well a shot the kid was before this job was done, he could use a decent gunner.

Pushing the door open, Roka grimaced at the sound of the metal creaking against its track. He'd need to do something about that headache soon, it was like a hangover getting steadily worse. He pasted on a big smile for his benefactor though, and greeted Vikargo as warmly as usual; and as usual the Captain paid him little mind. Roka took a seat nearby, but not too close; finding a seat at the Dajeerak board and sinking into the once-plush seat, reaching over and beginning to tap his Death Stick rhythmically on the holo-projector surface of the game board as he waited for the rest of the crew.