Nar Shaddaa City Shuffle [IC]

[Amberfire]

"They're with me, darling," said the glittering, gauzy Hutt to the doorman. The doorman, a short Mon Calamari with a very stiff cravat, didn't so much as blink as Priscilla's entourage stepped into the dome, where thousands of voices lifted in a cacophony.

The entourage didn't stay an entourage for long. "I'm afraid I can't stay," Priscilla told the three colourful Twi'leks and one red-headed human. This wasn't news to them, of course. Priscilla had some Very Important Hutt Business to work on, and would in fact be leaving Nar Shaddaa in three hours. Fortunately, it was just long enough for her to escort in the band of thieves to Nar Shaddaa's biggest and most lavish tradeshow event: a near-festival showing off the legal fronts of the richest business people in Huttspace. Naturally, that meant the place was full of Hutts. Not to mention live music and dancing, products of every size and variety (including a luxury spacecruiser), and, to the Twi'leks' general distaste, slaves.

The lobby of the tradeshow was a vast golden space with fancy golden tiles and gold pillars twisting up to hold the seven levels open-air above them. The core of the dome was open from lobby floor to ceiling: a vast bizarre sculpture in Huttese style writhed upwards. Everywhere were stalls and stages.

On the first level alone there was a bewildering array of things to look at. A stout, well-dressed Ortolan presided over hundreds of elegant bottles of perfumes and pheromones. Several Devaronian females of the furred variety, and one sulky-looking male, stood at a large stall surrounded by a number of droids with elegant inscripted chassis—some were even jewel-studded. A rather short—in every direction—Hutt presided over a selection of statuary, none of which was larger than an astromech droid. From the way he brandished a datapad at a Twi'lek male's face, one needed special authorization even to consider purchasing his wares.

To the left of the Hutt was a stack of cages, each holding small ferocious beasts. These were tended by two Gamorreans, a Nikto, and a Trandoshan. None held open weaponry, as that would be illegal in the tradeshow.

A cluster of Weequays presided over a low table with a variety of strange objects on it. From the signs, this was a silent auction. There were several around, according to the signs: this would be the one with the cheapest goods.

Opposite the entrance was a stage where musicians—Ortolan, Bith and human—played, a soothing, generic sort of music common to such tradeshows. Slaves, in a variety of genders and species, danced in a roped-off area by the stage. Slavers and another Hutt watched over them. They would be for sale here too.

To the right, stairs curved up to the next level.

"Well, here we are," Aeruna said to her companions. She was currently green with yellowish splotches on her bare arms—though she was, in her wrapped spangly dress, among one of the more covered up Twi'leks in the room. "What do you think we should do first?"

[GAThraawn]

What do you think we should do first?

Why, we spend lots of money, of course. Miles flashed a confident grin as he stepped into the swirling crowd, a cocky swagger in his step as though he owned the whole arena already. His eyes darted to the stand of Hutt statuary, and a well dressed Givin walking away from it after having placed some kind of bid.

Miles I swear if you're planning on trying to bring home any more of those atrocious Corellian paintings it's coming entirely out of your share. Aeruna was already having to quicken his pace to keep up with the animated Miles, who was bounding unsteadily through the crowd, ricocheting off passers-by in his apparent enthusiasm.

Well not our money, obviously! He held up a proprietary datapad that hadn't been in his possession a moment ago. and those are considered perfectly respectable works of art by beings who have taste...The way these high-end auctions worked, each datapad was personalized and connected to a line of credit when the first bid was made. That way when the auction was complete, the winner could immediately be charged without having the option of defaulting. Who wants some fine Hutt statuary for our apartment? Spruce up that nook with the cactus?

The stubby Hutt waved a datapad at Miles as he came to a halt next to his stall. Would you care to connect an account and make some bids, sir? Exclusive art from some of the finest sculptors this sector has to offer. Miles waved his datapad away amicably, waggling the one he now held in his hands.

Oh, no need, I've already got everything set up here; and I absolutely would like some exclusive art from the finest sculptors this sector has to offer! How about 20,000 for that pointy one there? He swiftly moved the conversation forward, and boldly offered to bid twice what he imagined it was worth. This was all about making good first impressions, after all.

I'm sorry, you said everything was already set up? I don't believe I've seen you before, today. The Hutt peered closely at the datapad, which met his scrutiny by being embossed with the same logo as the one he held in his fingers, and the small stack behind him on the desk. Having belonged to the Givin who had previously bid with it moments ago, it would certainly hold up to any concerns about it being forged. Not that that would matter if he insisted that he hadn't given it to Miles.

You don't? Miles met his gaze with a look of indignation. For a moment they stared at each other, Miles' carefully crafted expression of hurt reflected in the Hutt's suspicious, bulging eyes.

This wasn't working.

No, I don't suppose you would, would you. It was your assistant I dealt with; a droid, I think? Who knows, I never bother paying much attention to the help. Hardly seems worth my time. He flashed a hopeful smile.

I don't have any droids. What are you talking about? You can't mean Vazeera, she's about as far from a droid as you can get, and she isn't my assistant, she's...

Yes, yes, there you go, that must be it. Sounds about right. Really, I don't mean to be rude, but what is it you're here to do, sell statuary or listen to my life's story? Now, time is money, and we're both very busy and very wealthy beings, so here's what I propose: we both acknowledge we weren't paying the blindest bit of attention when I was here earlier, you let me up my bid to 25,000 and I walk out of here right now with a statue for my cactus nook from one of the finest sculptors this sector has to offer. Alternatively, I can go and find some other merchants who actually want to take my money. What do you say? Miles held out his hand to shake.

Skullduggery to lift datapad vs. R PPP BBB: 3 Success, 4 Advantage
Charm the Hutt vs. R PP BB: 0 (suffer 1 strain)
Deception the Hutt vs. R PP BB: 1 Failure, 4 Advantage
Negotiation the Hutt vs R PP BB: 1 Success, 2 Threat (suffer 1 strain)

[Luklan]

"Does everything here have an aurodium finish? It would almost be worth more to take the building rather than anything in it," the youngest Twi'lek murmured, barely loud enough for his companions to hear him. Contrary to Ziveri's words, he'd opted for a very neutral expression, even when he glanced over the slaves, as if nothing here was of any particular value to him. Where Aeruna was green, the normally-yellow Twi'lek had opted for deep blue. The stripes of his lekku remained, though darkened considerably to be almost black instead. His usual vest, pants and boots were left behind in favour of a robe of lavender purple, trimmed with gold-coloured thread. It was open enough to show off his chest, a reasonable thing for a Twi'lek. Frankly, he thought he looked riduculous... But he also looked like he had money, which was the important part.

"What do you think we should do first?"

"Why, we spend lots of money, of course." Before either sibling had even considered it, Miles already had a plan, apparently, and had begun striding off to enact it in some way, shape or form. With nothing better to do, really, Ziv tagged along just far enough to observe without being connected to the human, and to pose a very important question.

"Whose money?" The question asked a lot more than it appeared to, for the four of them at least. We don't have any money, so what's your plan? were the main points. Anyone nearby might be inclined to believe the discussion was about which of the four were spending first.

"Well not our money, obviously!" With that said, Miles had already set about attempting to double-deal the Hutt sculptor. While wielding somebody else's datapad.

Miles had explained to Ziveri how the auctions would work, and the Twi'lek watched the exchange for a few moments, before moving back to the other two.

"So how do they transfer the credits to the seller's accounts? Because if Dia could circumvent that... It's a lot of money for us, potentially," The younger brother frowned momentarily. "Potentially a lot of risk, too, since we'd be cheating a lot of people out of big credits... But that was the plan from the start."

[Amberfire]

"You can always trust Miles to just run ahead before his mind's worked out a real plan," Aeruna remarked to the Twi'lek siblings, shrugging. Her gaze swept over the crowded room, though she kept watch over Miles through the corner of his eye. As far as she was concerned, Miles was always one short con away from needing assistance by way of Aeruna's holdout blaster.

"But to answer your question—some of these sellers are holding silent auctions, like Miles' Hutt and those Weequays over there. In that case, you need a datapad—extremely rare to come by, obviously," Aeruna added with a light joking tone, "and you set up your account information with the seller. That way you can place bids at the sellers' stalls, and then wander around or come back if you please. At the end of the day, if they've won the bid, the credits are automatically deducted from your account, and you'll get a notification. Just swing by and pick up your item. Good way to ensure sellers get their money first."

Aeruna looked back towards Miles, and shook her head. "You can bid here, but you can't just transfer money out of the account without the sellers' security code. Dia can hack this, maybe, but she'll need a bunch of supplies. Possibly some years of learning. That's a tricksy sort of heist... that's a whole other professional area, straight up bank account robbing. If it were easier, well, Miles and I wouldn't have been running long games like we have. We'd just do that."

Aeruna flicked her lekku to strongly emphasize her last point, adding an additional meaning of 'warning'. "High security on bank accounts too." She grinned. "That's why it's nice when we can just get a mark to hand over the money willingly."

***

The Hutt looked down his barely-there nose at Miles, which was impressive considering Miles was quite a bit taller than he was. The method involved a certain amount of leaning back. He did not shake Miles' hand. Hutts did not shake hands with lesser species.

"Very well," drawled the Hutt. "Place your bid." Then he heaved his bulk around to deal with a newcomer: a red Nikto wearing a magenta shoulder-cape. It was a pretty blatant dismissal.

[rsong69]

Dia slipped into the grand room with the rest, keeping an eye on her younger brother (a habit she couldn't manage to break, even when they'd spent years apart) while taking in bits and pieces of the conversations surrounding her. She was the least noticable of the three Twi'leks, wearing an elegant dress that nearly matched her skin tone, and that suited her just fine. She'd been going around with Aeruna and Miles for a while now, and she still couldn't quite get used to wandering amongst the rich as though they belonged. She much preferred her beat-up, nondescript clothing to this get-up, but ... ah, well. Anyone else would likely interpret her slight discomfort and quiet as disdain, and that was perfect.

She carefully avoided looking in the direction of the slaves, and her attention was caught instead by one of the tables presided over by the Weequays. Her lekku twitched slightly in interest. Perhaps she could browse, just for a moment ...

At that instant, though, she overheard her name and tuned back in to the conversation between Ziv and Aeruna, just in time to hear Aeruna's response.

"I'm good, but I'm not that good, little brother." There was the slightest hint of affection in her words, and she looked about the room, pretending to scope out where she'd spend her imaginary credits. "Yet," she murmured.