[right][b]Zaheed Kast
Paradise[/b][/right]

"OOM, watch the ship." Kast grunted as he exited his freighter. He had hardly even registered the battle droid replying 'roger roger' before he stepped onto one of the various shuttles ferrying the occupants of the hangar too and from the main entrance to Paradise. It wasn't Kast's first time here, nor would it be the last. As much as Kast preferred to avoid relying on one particular location, the neutrality and safety the Paradise provided was incredibly useful. Kast often came here when he wanted a place to rest without being stabbed or shot in his sleep, or if he wanted to ensure that a particularly suspect party wouldn't try to backstab him- again. No one could bring weapons into Paradise, and if someone tried to beat on him with fists, Kast's skill, and an armored gauntlet would give him all the edge he'd need.

Handing his weapons off to the droids took a while, luckily they provided him with a bin so it wouldn't be mixed up with the weapons of others. Knowing he was set to visit the Paradise, he kept the majority of his equipment on the ship with his battle droid, but he handed off his blaster pistols, rifle, wrist weapons, and blades to the security droids. The droids processed his information and informed him that they would hold his weapon until their return. Once upon a time, the Paradise's extensive droid forces unnerved Kast. Sure, individually the droids weren't intimidating, but the Paradise had an army's worth of droids. Brainless or not, it only took a few well aimed blaster shots to take him down. By this point, Kast was a regular enough customer- and had spent enough time around his own battle droid, that they ceased stirring any emotion within him. From there it was a quick lift to the Mid levels. Moderately affordable and safe, some place that Kast could go without attracting attention. 

[right][b]Paradise
Bar/Nightclub[/b][/right]

With the amount of traffic that the Paradise received, and due to the fact that there was no day and night in space, its bars were always busy and full of people. In spite of its business, it also made bars some of the best places to be discreet without being obvious about it. It was dark- save for the sporadic flashing lights, and no one paid much attention to him, aside from one of the scantily clad twi'lek girls who were there most likely to encourage patrons to spend more money. The twi'lek placed a gentle hand on his chestplate and traced a finger around one of the blaster scars on the armor. Kast casually brushed the twi'lek away before making his way to the bar. 

Taking a seat at the bar, Kast shot a glance at a pair a bit further down. One, a large Ssi-ruu that would have looked out of place if they weren't in Hutt space, the other a particularly pretty togruta woman with dark orange skin and a black dress. An interesting pair the two made, but ultimately not the reason Kast was in Paradise. Pulling his helmet off and setting it on the bar, Kast rubbed at his beard. He should probably get a trim before his next job, it was making the helmet annoying to wear, as well as messing with his suit seals.

Pulling a slender gold bar out of his pocket, he slid it across the bar to the B1 Bartender droid. "Corellian Brandy. Neat." The droid complied and a moment later, a short snifter was produced and filled with a deep golden brown liquor. He picked up the glass in his gauntleted hand and held it for a moment before pressing the glass to his lips and downing the liquor in a single motion. Subtly sweet, but strong enough to fill Kast's stomach with warmth. He examined the empty glass for a moment before returning it to the bar. He pulled out another gold credit bar and toyed with it in his fingers as he watched the nightclub from his seat at the bar.

Twi'lek dancers interacted with the various patrons of the bar- in the mid levels the dregs and bargain-bin high class mingled regularly, all while repurposed B1 droids made their way through the crowds, attempting to serve their customers. It was somewhat amusing that the nemodian headed machines of war had been converted into an army of personal servants, but copious numbers of BX-Commando droids made their role as soldiers relatively unneeded. Paradise was peaceful enough, and with all its patrons unarmed at the gates, the BXs were more than enough to get the point across. 

"Excuse me sir." came the robotic voice of the bartender. "The Durosian in the booth sends his regards." the B1 said as it handed Kast a glass of whiskey. 

Accepting the small glass, Kast nodded at the bartender before taking a glance at the booth the droid mentioned. Sure enough there was a Durosian man in plain clothes sitting at the booth, facing away from him. He took the credit he was playing with in his hand and placed it on the bar.

"Guess I'll pass it along." Kast muttered, he gestured with his head towards the togruta and ssi-ru women, as he passed the credit chip to the droid. "Something nice for the torguta, and her ssi-ru companion." Grabbing his helmet with his now free arm, and resting it in the crook of his arm, he took the whiskey glass and walked over to where the durosian sat in his booth. 

"Volk."

"I see you've made it back alive Zaheed Kast." The durosian said casually as Kast sat down at the booth. "Is it done?"

"Yeah." Kast replied. "One dead Republic Captain, Richard Anderson." he said quietly as pulled a green glass eye out of his pocket and placed it on the booth table. 

"Good, very good." commended Volk, "I see you're still worth the credits you charge." 

The durosian pulled a small briefcase from underneath the table and placed it in front of him, cracking it open slightly to reveal the contents before shutting it again and sliding it over to the Mandalorian mercenary. "120,000, minus my fee. Its all in there so don't be a boor and go checking it. Keep in touch Kast. I might have something else for you later."

"Good seeing you, Volk." Kast remarked curtly as he took the briefcase and placed it under the table between his feet as the Durosian stood to leave. Volk had been a steady source of work for him for much of the past year. Trustworthy- well, trustworthy enough, he didn't make a habit of screwing his clients or hunters over, which was a valuable trait to find in a middleman. Volk's fees were modest, and he managed to find lucrative work. In return Kast was discreet, and didn't ask too many questions. It was about as good as working relationships got.

The exchange concluded Kast's business on Paradise. Maybe he'd stay a bit. He held the whiskey glass in his hands, swirling the contents of the glass as it rocked in his hand.