[center][color=808B96][h2][b]M o k r a   T e m   &   D e l   Q u i n’ j o r r a[/b][/h2]Nar Shaddaa [b]-[/b] Refugee Sector
[i]The Refuge[/i] Cantina[/color][/center]
A catchy [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWO5Ai_a80M]tune played[/url] from the speakers in the semi-dark room. A musky odor filled their nostrils. Mo’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. He could hear just enough. A low rumble of conversations was audible, but not too much. The instructions they received was to meet at table 17 in this gin joint known as [i]The Refugee[/i]. Mokra Tem advised a bit of caution, “let’s just not stroll into a shit show and get our PJs all wet, Del.” Mokra was worried that whoever this person was giving them a job was really out to kill them. “How about we just sit here at a comfortable distance and watch everyone wander in. That way we know who is giving out the job and get an eyeful of our crewmates?”

“Mo,” Del said cheerfully, patting the Kel Dorian on the shoulder, “I think you’ve been running with me too long. You’re starting to sound like me.” The human had a wry grin on his face, which partnered with his scuff, his outfit and overall attitude really made him seem like old fashioned space [i]scum.[/i] The kind of scum that you didn’t mind having your back in a scrap, at least. “It’s a smart plan, but if the job’s legit, we have to make contact. So, we’ll do the old bait maneuver. [i]If[/i] we’re walking into an all new shitshow here, i’ll be the one to spring it.” Del flicked a small device between his fingers. Too small to be a thermal detonator, he had a small flash bomb ready to go on his person. “You take a good vantage point behind the rest of them at the table. If you could use that fancy disappearin’ act, it’d be grand. But, we’ll probably have to improvise like always.” He winked at his alien partner. “Look on the bright side: if anyone gets shot, it’ll probably be me this time.” 

“I’ll try,” Mokra responded. He wasn’t too confident about his disappearing act. Maybe it would work this time. Maybe if he thought he was invisible, he would actually be invisible? “Let me try it now; right here.” Mokra looked at the floor, while focusing. He thought of himself going invisible. He tried real hard. His body shook intensely as he tried to will himself to go invisible. His left arm wavered in and out of view. It looked as though it might work, but then after a full two minutes of trying, his arm was still just as visible as the rest of him. “Nope. Can’t do it, Del.” I’ll just walk behind them and stand there watching. Who cares if they can see me?”

“Don’t just [i]stand[/i] behind them like you’re a hungry graul. Blend in with the crowd, hold a drink in your hand or something. Look inconspicuous; at least as much as you can.”

“Yea, that will work. I’ll do that then,” Mokra responded. “Now? Go now?” 

“Not just yet,” Del muttered, spying the Nautolan walking towards the table with the Zabrak. At least they hadn’t been noticed yet, [i]hopefully[/i] anyways. Del’s face scrunched as he eyed the doctor approaching the Zabrak. “I think I’ve seen this guy before…” he muttered, placing his index finger on his chin. The man gently tapped it three times. “Wait, I know it!” The human turned to Mokra. “He’s a bleeding heart doctor, helping refugees in the worst parts of town. What the hell is a guy like that meeting with a bunch of scumbags like the Exchange?” 

“Only one way to find out,” Mo responded. The two watched the conversation. They couldn’t hear what was being said. Eventually, the Zabrak and his entourage departed, leaving the Nautolan doctor alone at table 17. “Well, this seems to be my cue.” Mokra gave the disappearing act one more try. He focused on the cloak, trying to remember what happened to him when he broke the vase a few decades earlier at home. It took about ninety seconds and the Kel Dorian disappeared from view. “Del, did it work?”

“You crazy bastard, it worked!” Del exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “Time for me to play nice and meet the good doctor. You just get comfy and be ready to strike if things go south quick.” Del stood up from his seat and gave a knowing wink towards where he [i]thought[/i] Mokra was. “I can always trust you to watch my back. Now, let’s see if we’re walking into a job, or a trap.” Del casually stood up and walked over to the doctor’s table. “So,” the human smuggler began, standing at a chair across from the Nautolan, “what the hell’s got a doctor getting wrapped up in…” the human paused for a moment, running exactly [i]what[/i] they’d all been dragged into, “whatever this is?” 

Mo silently moved behind the Nautolan doctor to listen to the conversation between him and Del Qin’jorra. He stood more than three feet away so as to not bump into him or do anything to let him know he was there. He also kept on eye on what was going on in the room so that nothing would surprise him or the group as it formed at table 17.

[hr][right][i][sub]Collaboration between Gunther and [@DruSM157][/sub][/i][/right]