Juviest Vood's page

Hi all!

I know I've been rather quiet lately, which is in relation with what's been happening with me for the last week or so. Life's been generally bad, and I'm currently getting some major flak, related to Britain's current state of affairs (as a foreigner there), and I'll have to take at least a week or two to get my head around things.

I fully plan to continue the game, and I'm sorry I only now let you know, but up to today, I thought I'd be able to get things done, which is no longer the case.

Sorry about all that, and hopefully, see you soon! We'll get this road on the show once again soon!

Juviest pulls up his flask, and shrugs. "Hope you don't need me to get anything off of a tall shelf, Thrask.", he jests, standing up from his bed.

"You need something?", he asks, looking at the Trandoshan's hidey spot. "I'm hoping it's not with my skills as interior decorator, that is."

Still here, too. Obviously.

If we don't have anything better to do, I suggest we start some ruckus? We can try and search for a trainer for our two force users, start some fights with the empire, crash a star destroyer, help the Rebel Alliance?

I'm sure LT has plenty of enemies' names in a list somewhere, waiting for names to be carved out with a vibroknife?

I suggest we try and find a Jedi trainer for those two first, though. There's always enough trouble around those, and credits and trouble go hand in hand.

GM, where would we start looking?

"Hah! Robbin' a museum. That's on ma bucket list!", chuckles Juviest. "Tell ya what, though, kids.", he says, holding out his massively oversized blaster. "I know a thing or two 'bout those mechanical things you two mentioned. I'd even be willin' to put that into a blaster, see how it handles the power.", he chuckles.

"Jus... Not now.", he says, leaning on Aristi. "Hey, kid... D'ya mind helpin' me to my bunk? No need to tuck me in...", he says, as his bandage starts bleeding again.

Eyeballing Aristi, Juviest chuckles. "Shouldn't ya be pilotin' a ship? If y'are, take the bottle! Hah! You fly sober, they can track your movements.", he says to the Bothan, patting him on the back, hopefully joking. The smell of whiskey always permeates the man, so it's hard to tell.

Juviest shuffles heavily towards the group. "Well... So if someone's sent signal to Djeb...", he says, raising a hand in the air. "And it was someone that had Jedi connections..." He shrugs. "Them people had that thing... what was it... altruism! That's right. So maybe they just wanted to give ya both a crystal... And how didn't I get one, 'Neira?", he asks, exhaling cigar smoke.

0s, 1a on Mechanics to know lightsabers don't have schematics "I've never seen one, truth be told. Sch'matic, I mean."

Hearing the word that sharpens every bounty hunter's ear, Juviest raises from the couch, and inhales deeply as his wounds complain.

"Where w'ld you two get lights'ber crystals from?", he asked dismissingly, as he poured himself another drink from the already half-empty bottle. His head slowly made the connection during an uncomfortable pause, as the Sullustan slowly stood up in a semblance of balance, then pointed a finger at Aneira and Djebelle, shaking.

"Wait... Is... is you two Jedi?", he asked in a confused tone. "Like... choking people and stuff?", he muttered, picking up the glass with the forced carefulness of a drunk. "That's... great, I guess.", he concludes, half-falling down back on the couch. His eyes stare at them, remaining open with visible difficulty. Damn Jedi. Always sneaking up on people., he thought. Weird., he concludes, staring blankly at the distance.

Oh, I gathered about the pool. If it doesn't change soon, I'm looking forward to start an argument of my own. Great roleplaying there, as usual, you two!

Juviest, the social butterly he is, decided to draw attention to himself, though.

Juviest lies down on the couch, carefully, trying not to disturb his new bandages. He reaches up on the table, pulling out another bottle. "Ducking, huh.", he chuckled, staring at the bottle. He puts his blasters on the table, then pours himself a drink.

And that's why I avoid working with teams. Someone's always going to start preaching..., he thinks, sniffing the alcohol. "You two harpies going to go at it much longer?", he asks, grunting unhappily. "Because if you are, I'm off to get picked in the cockpit. More of a curative atmosphere." He takes off his hat, putting it on his face. "We're all here, still kicking, and mostly wounded. We can do the... what'd your imps call it, LT, debrief tomorrow. If you're planning to start killing each other, do it quietly!" He stands up to finish his glass and start his second one. That's why I'm such a good friend with you, Admiral., he mentally says to the bottle. You're a great listener.

Thought I should help with the situation, whether by defusing it, or adding fuel to the fire. You pick.

Juviest spits out blood as he's on board, leaning on the wall. His midsection is torn through, the viscera under it showing, as he rummaged through his pockets to take his flask, raising it to everyone else first. "Thanks, LT. Owe you one.", he says, before taking a long drink. He finishes the flask, then wipes his mouth. "What? Dulls the pain. If you want some, I keep it under the sink."

"Well, Thrask, if you're going back, then you've got a pilot.", Juviest replies as Djebelle rushes in with the stim-kits. "As for the mission, we outta ask Djeb here. We finished, kid?", he asks, wincing as the medicine kicks in. "Now, if you excuse me, I gotta sit down. My knees are planning a rebelion of their own...", he says, slowly dragging himself towards the rec area, leaning on the wall for coverage.

Djeb.

Are we going to have a Sith-uation here?

I'll show myself the airlock.

I'd be toast if I took one of them. He took two..., thinks Juviest, as he grits his teeth, aiming and lowering the blaster at the beast's forehead. "Force take you!", he spits out, the blaster bolt sending the creature into another howl of pain.

4S, 4A, 16 damage using 3 for crit, one for a boost to the next person. Maneuvre to aim, too.
Crit+30: 1d100 + 30 ⇒ (38) + 30 = 68

All things considered, Djeb, I believe I might've pissed it off slightly more than you have. ^^

Right. So I've upped the difficulty last time arbitrarily, because Thrask was in the way. Then, I read the book, and I wrongly didn't find anything about shooting in Melee. Now, I re-re-read it, and I found the passage, where I've done it correct the first time. So, here it is, the added difficulty die, so the second hit doesn't happen, numbers wise. Barrage of blaster bolts can still happen. Sorry!

"Ho, boy.", is all Juviest can mutter as he sees Thrask take the massive blow. Enough about Corellian bantha-herdery., he thinks, as he lays down a barrage of fire from both of his blasters, the smell of tibana gas filling the air around the ship. He taps his comms, putting on a smile. "We're getting to know the natives. Not the friendliest bunch.", he relays over the comms. "Think you should bring your charming personality as soon as possible. I'm stuck with Thrask as Chief Diplomat here."

5S, 1A 17 and 14 damage. Maybe I'll fire just one next time. If there is a next time.

Chuckling, Juviest stares towards the close combat curl of the two fighting humanoids. "Well, well. Say something snarky, so I can tell you apart, Trandoshan!"

Shooting at the big beast. 6S, so no double fire, one hit for 18. I added an extra difficulty die to avoid hitting our friend.

Juviest raises his right pistol towards the monster's head, putting the other behind his back and standing in a duelist's stance. Closing one eye, he lets out a shot, which lands straight into the creature's head.Well, well. Corellians got it half right, it seems.

Wiping his forehead, Juviest chuckles as he sees the big creature, then pats Thrask's shoulder. "Well, well, Trandoshan.", he says, lighting up a cigar. "Does your Scorekeeper let you share?", he chuckles, bringing his blasters up. At the press of a button, the hiss of coolant echoes and steam starts raising from the blasters. Letting out a puff himself, he takes a duelist's stance, drawing a bead on the big monster.

Firing at the big one when he can, 2S, 2A for 13 and 9 damage, one advantage to boost next roll

I loved it too! Great cast, though some of the more famous actors were criminally underused, in my opinion. All in all, that only makes me wish for a movie with an Imperial protagonist(s).

Juviest takes a long breather, as he grins towards the last unharmed beast. "Don't bring claws to a blaster fight, kid.", he says with a grin, as he unloads both blasters into its hide.

1s, 5a, using the LT upgrade.
talk about a roll... 2 hits, 12 and 9 damage, and a crit from the advantages.

Two shots blast into the thing's chest, as Juviest raises his blasters, smoke coming out of the barrels. "I say we pack a few, if we can! Don't s'pose we can grab one alive, do you? Might fetch a good price.", he offers.

Juviest winces as the claws pass through his armour. Despite the injury being merely a flesh wound, a couple of strands of sweat appear on his forehead.
I'll assume I can pick up the pistol with a maneuvre? If not, Add a black die to the roll, and I'll use 2 maneuvres to get it, instead of one to pick it up and one to aim.

5S, 3A
Two hits for 14 and 17
Strain 10/12, using 2 of the advantages to give LT a blue die.

He tumbles on the ground, scrambling to grab his blaster, as he gives a nudge to the beast, unloading the blaster in its throat. Pushing the corpse aside, he takes aim at the one on top of Kara, a massive wound appearing on its torso. "Natives are getting restless!", he chuckles as he shuffles slightly to the left, still remaining on the ground. "Though I got to say, we've got them outgunned!", he barely manages to outshout the blaster cannon.

I shot two of them last round, but if the two blaster bolts hit and it's still standing, we might have a problem!

Juviest harumphs. "That so? Why don't you drop that rifle and just try and hurt their feelings?", he replies with a grin, firing a blast at the closest beast.

3S, 2A. 1 Adv for Paired, 1 for a blue die for LT.
2 hits, for 14 and 11.

He sees the first creature he shot still limping, and fires off a final shot into its shambling body. "On your right, LT!", he snaps, as a creature starts sprinting towards them.

"I prefer aged, LT.", Juviest replies with a sly grin, opening fire on the incoming beasts.
2S, 1A, taking Aim as a maneuvre.
2 hits, 13 and 10 damage before soak, Adv activates other pistol. If

Two blaster shots dart in the distance, the smell of ionised air leaving the barrels. A shot lands straight in the neck of a beast, and another one lands on the leg. "Pudu!", Juviest exclaims, as he sees the swarm emerge, using the barrel to prompt his hat up. "There's going to be someone in the endangered species database, so let's make sure it's them, rather than us!" The old Sullustan is seemingly enjoying the situation way too much.

Damnit, I thought I'd left a post in here not two days ago!

Juviest grumbles, chomping his cigar. "Well, I ain't offering them. Way too expensive. Can lend you one, though.", he smirks, letting out a puff. "'m I the only one thinking those things are probably smarter than half our crew? Myself included, 'course.", he comments. "Whoever gets more, buys the rounds in the next watering hole. Sounds fair, LT?" He pulls out his oversized blasters, twirling them around and aiming them at the beasts. "Hm. Reckon those things fetch a good price? Aristi, what's your estimate? And once you're done with that, tell everyone to get the hell here.", the old bounty hunter asks casually.

Juviest lights up his cigar. "Well, I ain't never heard a scream of joyous rapture. They're more like, cries, if you know what I mean." He unclasped his holsters' safety. "You take left, I take right?", he suggests, letting out a cloud of smoke, then offering his flask.

Well, I described him staying in place. But if everyone's leaving, he'd follow the screams with Thrask.

Hm.

I think that only Aneira and Djeb went on to somewhere. OOC, that'd mean the Force-Sensitives, but I'm not sure that me or Thrask are going anywhere. Juviest is about as perceptive as a mole, so he wouldn't have noticed Aneira leave. Besides, I'd never stop a character, unless I've talked to the player beforehand to make sure it's fine.

Seriously decent post, LT. I mean it.

I suggest we stand here for now, or go after Aneira, as she didn't let us know anything. If we can find her. Thoughts?

Juviest listens to the story attentively, offering his flask. He lights up his cigar as the scream sounds, calmly patting his duster backwards. "Helluva story, LT, I mean it." He says, looking around the planet, fingers moving cautiously. "Force, you might've even convinced me there's a person under all that soldier. Had me fooled a couple of times." He talks slowly, trying to look all around for danger. As Aneira starts leaving, he raises a brow. "Now, you think that's wise? Whatever we're facing, we're outgunning. Hadn't felt like the only one in my head since we landed, and I doubt Admiral Handell's Aged Corellian's going to silence the voices, and he's had a couple of admirable attempts already." He turns around, trying to cover other fields of view. "I say we stick to each other. Back me up here, someone."

Juviest points out towards the bone pile. "Well, that's a bit disturbing. Reckon that qualifies enough for us to go inside?", he asks, lighting up his cigar calmly. "I'd rather be in a firefight than here right now.", he remarks on the eerie mood. "Hopefully that's not prophetic. Universe isn't exactly keen on making my wishes come true." He bites the cigar, exhaling a cloud of fumes. "Anyone feel like telling an interesting story, now's the time. Even if it's about their people's ancient history. Folks always wanna talk about this one."

I, as a player, am absolutely for all of us exploring an ancient ruined temple. Juviest is unwilling to go inside, but he wouldn't want to abandon Djebelle inside, and wouldn't really shoot her. So instead he's resort to using his abysmal persuasion skills to try and convince her to leave now, but will follow if she insists. Just going off of the fact that I've got a bad feeling about this.

Ah, thanks.

Juviest frowns. "We know, LT. That's why I said, nobody said anything. Could've been you thinking out loud." He grunts. "Like you said, Trandoshan, we either all go in, or none of us do. Djeb, you sure you don't want the mystery to remain a mystery?", Juviest says quietly, putting a careful hand on his blasters. Real tempted to knock her out and just carry her back. Though I gotta live with her after that, and that's going to be real unpleasant.

Juviest shrugs. Any hits on that Knowledge(Lore), GM

"Don't think nobody said anything, LT.", Juviest replies. "Djeb, I've got a bad feeling about this.", he says, reaching for his flask. "And I was really eager to come just about two minutes ago."

Juviest raises his hands in theatrical surrender as Djebelle snaps at him. "Alright, alright. Don't need to get that snappy about some fossil's ignorance. Far's I knew, everyone doing those weird things with the Force was a Jedi. Young folk always tossing labels left and right.", he chuckles. "On a serious note, though, sorry for my lack of knowledge on the matter.", he replies gravelly, before showing a tobacco-stained grin. "And don't have to worry about me turning you in and never working again. It's more of a hobby, especially without my license.", he chuckles.

He opens his coat, twirling his oversized blaster pistols (or undersized blaster rifles), then holsters them back in. "Well, let's go hunt ourselves a mystery. Might even get to tell the story one day.", he says, putting the flask on his belt, running a finger on the brim of his hat and setting off into the pilot's cabin to put in the final landing coordinates.

Juviest puts in the coordinates for approach towards the ravine, then joins the other in the kitchen. He sits on a chair, relaxing his legs on the table, then pours himself a surprisingly virgin mug of java juice. Noticing Djebelle's new pistol, he grunts approvingly. "Well that's something. So I guess old friends are out of the question, huh?", he chuckles, pulling out a cigar knife. "I can set a plot for just outside the building, whatever it is. Doubt they got anti-ship defenses, but I don't think anyone who lives here likes visitors that much."

He nods at Djebelle. "Well, talkers are aplenty...", before scratching his stubble. "Wait... You one of them... Jedi folk?", he asks incredulously. "Why the heck am I the last one to learn?", he chuckles, shaking his head. "Ah, heck. If I stay on the ship, I'll be driving myself up the walls for missing out on some mystery."
Juviest has the empathy of a somewhat anti-social rancor, so unless you've told him specifically that you're a Force user or he'd heard it somewhere, he wouldn't have a clue.

He takes a long look at the building on screen. "Well, that's looking somewhat familiar... Unless I'm wrong.", he chuckles, before joining the others ready to leave.
Knowledge(Lore) on the building style and whatnot.

Juviest smirks at Aneira. "Thought you'd never ask. C'mon, Aristi, might need some help with the small letters...", he says, jumping off of the seat as fast as his creaking joints would allow.

2S

After a short while and a plethora of Huttese, Juviest comes out of the pilot's cabin, sitting down in the kitchen. "Damn. Reckon we can turn on the heater in this rustbucket? Or I should just remove some of the reactor shielding. That'll get us real warm.", he chuckles, lighting up a cigar and pouring himself a mug of Java juice. "So, what are you expecting to find there, kiddo?", he asks Djebelle with a smile. "Old friends? Old enemies?", he inquires, putting his boots on the table.

Personally, I'd like to go on a Jedi hunt... I mean help Djebelle! Sabotaging the Empire is fine, too, and undoubtedly we'll pick up some weapons when we come to blows.

Juviest shrugs. "Well, it might be, kid. Good plan. Never had a mind for deception, myself. Well, it turns out we're heading to Bespin. Might check with that Starwind character, too. Since I'm going to be going into the big leagues again, it wouldn't hurt to get some extra gear.", he pats his blasters. "Seen those jet-boots?", he asks Kara, picturing her as the most knowledgeable one on weapons and personal equipment.

Juviest harumphs. "Superstitious bantha fodder, if you ask me. I bet Alliance command talks about him all the time, and he hasn't wiped them out yet.", he grunts. "Never picked up a Jedi contract, myself, since I don't take 'em in dead, and they don't want them any other way. You weren't around in the Clone wars, but I was." He pulls out his canteen, taking a long sip. "Heard of the battle of Geonosis, haven't you? The best of the Jedi, killed by droids, of all things. And after the Empire outlawed the Order? Half the Guild went after Jedi. Highest bounties were over three million credits."

He turns to Djebelle, shaking his head. "I'm not here to tell you that the Force is some hocus-pocus religion. It's got power, and I've seen it for myself. But that power's got nothing on credits." He harumphs again. "Anyway, we're just wagging tongues right now. It's not like they'd send the best for us. Say we grab that wampa and go to Bespin. Nice watering holes, at least."

Juviest is quite possibly arguing for argument's sake. Though bounty hunters are renowned for bringing in Jedi, so he might be a bit biased. Also, politics chat!

Juviest chuckles. "Sure it had a few of them. One even became Emperor.", he says with a sad smile. "Though specieist segregation and nepotism are growing with every day. Just a matter of time 'til they come for our rights and weapons.", he adds spitefully, gripping his blasters, incidentally just as illegal now as they were during Republic times. "Though points of view are built by information. Free speech lets people build their own. Censoring investigations lets the Imps tilt the people's point in the direction it wants." He chuckles. "Or it tries to. Propaganda's about as reliable a weapon as a lightsaber. You just might hit yourself with it."

I'm into it. Feel like a history discussion with someone who (wrongfully) believes he's lived through it all?

I read the Sullustans' usual and historical view as 'We don't care who's fighting, as long as we can sell ships and weapons to both sides!' While our resident grumpy grandpa doesn't share most of Sullust's non-aggressive views, he still grew up around that.

Djebelle cocks a knowing eyebrow in reply. "Information is power, Old-timer; no - better than that... it's currency. Not that I trade with the Imperium much, these days." she adds hastily.

It has the advantage of being true: they're stingy, and they have the bad habit of altering deals as they go along. Plus, as her Force powers became more apparent to her, the Outer Rim suddenly seemed like a really good place to be.

Juviest chuckles. I like the kid. Has way more spine than that bony thing on her back.

"Heh. They're not that big on trading, are they now." Mentioning trade seems to be a touchy subject on the old Sullustan, as he pats around his pocket for a cigar half. "Trade's how the Force-damn galaxy works the way it does. Used to be, back in the Republic, the harder you worked, the better you were off. Now, it's too much pan-handling to those in power. Don't really know if it's the same to you humans, but restrictions to trade, speech, travel... It's almost as bad as restricting breathing to our culture. That's why most of our folk join the Alliance."

Juviest raises a brow at Djebelle. "You know where all the Imperial bigwigs live, kid?", he quips, smiling. "Information's a hell of a weapon."

He shrugs at Durame's suggestions. "Not that big on roasts, myself. Give me indigestion.", he mentions, completely oblivious to the interaction between the two girls. He scratches his stubble. "Not that big on no pay, but I've lived with worse. If we go and get him, nobody's going to stop us stuffing our pockets. And I haven't been to Bespin in, what, thirty odd-years." He sighs, eyes going blank as Juviest goes down memory lane, accompanied by the occasional smirk.

Juviest looks greedily at the steaming cup, before surrendering and drawing a flask from his coat. "Top you up, LT?", he suggests after taking a long sip, coughing.

"I've got a decade or three of experience looking for people. And of getting them back alive.", he says, nodding at the ladies. "She's right, we're availavle, if you're hiring." He takes another sip. "Just as long as I get out of this blinding iceball."

Juviest nods at the quartermaster, then reaches in his pocket, handing over a bottle. "It's just the one. Keep it nice and safe.", he says, before leaning in, conspiratively. "You know, you're sure to got some power and extra nutritional food in this place. Store some away, and you can make some 'shine pretty easily."

He leans back, taking off the cap of his canteen and taking a long sip. He takes out a datapad from his pocket, and hands it over to the quartermaster. "Pft. Hell of a place. Now, here's the manifest, gimme a signature here, here, here, full name and digi-print here. If you're worried about security, don't be.", he says in a bored voice, implying that he's done that before. "We'll pop by later to get some things for the old rustbucket, but now we're needing to meet your boss. Pleasure."

Taking a glance at the console, Juviest harumphs. "Not that I'm a downer like that," he says, taking a long sip. "But if it comes to that, unless they're top aces, we can take them down and run away. But don't tell them I said that. Fighter pilots can't handle anyone questioning their skill. Or the size of some parts.", he grins, putting a hand behind his head and keeping one on the controls.

He puts his hand on the console, then says in a business tone. "How do you do. We're carrying some heavy haul. Relaying the list to you know.", he says, sending the cargo manifest their way. "You got something warm to drink in this blinding fridge of a planet?", he asks, before hanging up. I wonder if it pisses LT I never say 'Copy', or 'Over'. It probably does.

Juviest shakes his head. "How many groups big enough to buy cargo could there be in this place? Just tell them. We ain't got no codes, and I'm not in the mood for spy games.", he relays over the comms, flying as casual as possible.

He takes a long sip of his steaming cup, the smell of the liquor inside almost too much. "And ease on the turbolasers. Doubt we can even warm up the snow before they shoot us down."

Juviest reaches to look for the coordinates on the map. "G!#!+!n map consoles... Why'd they go and change the old navcomputers... Bloody model was only a few centuries old. That means reliable.", he mumbles to himself as he fiddles with the buttons.

"Right. Everyone get their warm pink socks and fluffy hats on.", he says, looking at the patched space suit next to him. "If you're feeling like it, there's a bottle of Admiral Xan'ti under one of the chairs. Put some fire in your bellies. I'll pick one up of whatever they're having here, probably fermented tauntaun piss or whatever." He grunts once again, throwing the shaders on the screen and frowning, more cranky than usual. I'll go blind by seventy-five if this keeps on. Should remember to check for lens prescription next time I see a doctor. Or I'll just drink the money away.

Juviest puts his hat down and scratches his scalp. "Alright, kid, see if you can find me some place to land. Or get that place's coordinates. Either works.", he says to Aristi, lifting up his cup of (mostly) java juice. "Don't like the cold. Or the snow. Hell on the eyes for us, and I'm not getting any younger...", he rambles on. "And I don't think we negotiated danger pay."

"Sure.", retorts Juviest, walking in the cargo hold with a cup in his hand. "Can't hurt to do some training. Training's almost as good as experience, after all.", he says, lighting up a cigar. "Though if you kids are using stunners, I'd need to borrow one of yours. Mine are made for bigger fish.", he grins. "Like you, Trandoshan."

Sorry guys, I'm currently moving house, and I'll be posting sporadically while stuff gets sorted. I'll do my best to get in touch as soon as I can.

Juviest harumphs, with a tone of disappointment in his voice. "Well, enjoy the food, kids. If you feel like sharing, I'll be in the cargo bay, fiddling with this old sack of bolts.", he says, patting the droid, which whistles and whirrs in an insulted manner. "Nah, not apologising for that. Tell you what though, I'll give you an oil bath.", he says, giving a gentle nudge to the droid with his foot.

He harumphs once more when Aristi reminds him of Hoth. "You know, I bet the guy who named that place had a reaaal sense of humour. Or no knowledge of Basic. A nerf-herder, anyway...", he shares, making his way towards the Nav-Computer. "Right. Unless anyone forgot to pick up groceries, we're leaving in 30 standard minutes. Don't know how long's that in military minutes, LT, so help yourself.", he chuckles, putting his legs on the console. Should probably get a new captain's chair. This one smells, too..

The piloting roll's here. 4S, 2 A

Juviest chuckles at Kara's question. "I'd usually say the bar, but we just went. I picked up a couple of bottles, and a nice big sack of java juice, so whenever you give me the go, I'll get this rust bucket flying.", he replies, sitting on the ship's ramp, lighting up a cigar.

"Great going, kids. All of you working together, you just might sell a pair of boots to a Hutt.", he chuckles. "I'd check what Shmo sent for poison, first, though.", he says, lifting his flask with a smile.

Juviest brightens up as Djebelle gets her hand on the negotiation. "And I've got my own bills.", he takes a sip from his drink. "Medical ones.", he gestures. "If you ask me, we're just arguing the numbers just now. We're not looking to scam you, and you shouldn't look into scamming us." He stands up from the table, nodding at Aristi and Djebelle. "Gotta go stretch. You limp up quickly when you're lucky enough to be my age.", he says, opening his coat, which accidentally shows his blasters.

As he moves towards the door, he taps his ear. "Kid, I'd be careful if I were you. Don't push it, the man probably has a reputation to keep. I'd advise to agree on anything at 20 or below, otherwise we might get into a lot more trouble when we come back here next time.", he whispers quickly, turning around quickly to make another glance around the room.

Juviest takes the cigar and starts cutting the edge. "Kid's right, there. What you're getting with us is security, too. Whatever it is you're shipping, be it now or later. And I'd be the first to tell you, we're just having a bit of a trade disagreement. Money's money, loyalty's loyalty.", he relays, lighting the cut cigar up.

If he's not buying it, he's biting it. Simple.