[color=FFD700][b][center][h3]The Bitter End Docking Bay[/h3][/center][/b][/color]

Bel throws herself into the worn faux leather seats of the modest round table, its circular seating lining the ship's walls. It's a rather cozy area, located just behind the cockpit. Leaning back slightly, the cheap and already torn leather whines in protest as Bel rests a booted foot up against the table and takes a sip of the bitter, unsweetened, and freshly brewed cup of caf. The last time the smuggler had visited the Bitter End, she'd chosen a stronger type of beverage. Needless to say, the business trip had turned into the leisure kind rather quickly. 

"Anytime now," Bel muses out loud. Her foot bounces to an unnamed tune in her head as she quietly sips at the dark liquid in the metal cup.

"B." The familiar, slightly distorted picture of her sister appears from the holoprojector sitting in the middle of the table. "Are you on-site?"

Bel promptly rolls her blue eyes at the formal terms used. "Yes, Captain, my ass is firmly planted [i]on-site[/i]." She gives her sister some sort of half-assed salute that never fails to make Sam grit her teeth together.

"Right. Reports confirm that the target is present at the cantina. Find him, question him about the artifact. We [i]need[/i] to find out who it was auctioned off to. What are you drinking? That better not be—"

Bel lifts her hand up, cutting off her sister's seemingly non-ending cascade of words. "Hold your tauntauns. One issue at a time, girl, [i]please[/i]." Bel shakes her head lightly, taking another sip of caf. "Sheesh."

"I'd really appreciate it if you could take this, or anything, seriously."

"I know the job, we've been over the specs." Bel plants both of her feet on the ground as she leans forward and rests her forearms atop the table littered with caf stains and various nicks and scratches. "You did your recon, now let me do [i]my[/i] job. A little trust goes a long way, sis."

"It's not that I don't trust you."

Bel chuckles. "But..." She replies under her breath. Somehow, Bel knows Sam heard her. The evidence lies in the way her sister's brow furrows and her jaw clenches.

"But, the last time you were here you forgot all about the client and burned bribe money on damn holo hookers!"

"Holo hookers? They're people too you know. Where's your sense of female empowerment?"

Sam looks like she's ready to plant her fist squarely into Bel's jaw. The smuggler feels rather blessed to be light years away from her sister right this second.

Bel leans back into her seat once more, folding her arms across her chest. "I doubt little Cal has info on the buyer. The artifact is most likely in another galaxy by now, but—and this is one [i]very[/i] important 'but', Captain—" Bel pauses to drink, grinning into her cup as she hears her sister practically fuming on the holo. "Someone in that rotten cantina has to know something. And I'll pry out that information out of their cold, dead hands if I gotta."

"Wonderful. professional as always." The sarcasm doesn't escape her. 

Bel watches as her sister glances warily at her surroundings. They've been sneaking behind the Empire's back for years without getting caught, but there's always that chance that it can happen. The reality of their scheme hangs heavy above their heads, like a sharp guillotine blade. Some days, Bel can almost hear the rope struggling to keep the blade suspended above. Or, perhaps, it could very well be her overactive imagination. But, they're careful, meticulous in ways that make Bel roll her eyes. 

They have to be.

"I'm being sent off base. Won't be able to have a comlink with you."

"S'fine," Bel shrugs. "It would get scrambled the second I step foot in that den of horrors." 

"Be careful."

"Always."

Sam didn't believe it. 

Hell, Bel didn't either.

Bel leaves her ship—aptly named the Horizon—confidence, and self-assuredness in her step as she feels the weight of her favorite blaster pressed against her side. She takes the familiar route that leads to an elevator. The stench. Bel could smell it even before the elevator comes to a screeching stop on the cantina's floor. Before the doors open and she's greeted with the scummiest toothy smiles in the galaxy, memories rush back to her and in that instant, she remembers why she had gotten positively shit-faced the last time she visited this place.

Bel takes a deep breath and the sounds and smells assault her senses the moment the elevator doors open. "I really hate this place."