The Hyperion (Open, Freeform RP)

((This is a totally freeform, open-ended RP available to all members of E.P.O.C.H regardless of rank and also any visiting dignitaries from any Guilds. This is a no-pressure RP where everyone is encouraged to post at their own pace, a place for characters to get to know each other before the launch to TOR. It is a four-storey building and all are now available. You can visit the ground floor (bars and stage), the 1st floor (balcony), the 2nd floor (Pazaak Casino) and even the Penthouse Suite....with permission of The Mysterious Falleen - Enjoy!))


The Hyperion is a new and more upper-class establishment than most Cantinas, found in the heart of Coruscant during the time of the ATC Restoration period. Secretly run and funded by Agents of The E.P.O.C.H. it welcomes all customers with only two rules:

1. Civility is key. Violence will be met with deadly reprisal.
2. Political-free zone. Empire and Republic, Jedi and Sith. All are welcome and have rights of elyzium within the walls.

Floorplan:

((I'm afraid you will have to use your imagination a little and assume all the furnishings are "Star-warseque Sci-fi"))


The Staff:
There are 25 members of permanent staff at The Hyperion, (as well as 15 Serving Droids) which is open 7 days in every week. Listed here are those staff: ((Bio's to follow))

Owner: "The Mysterious Falleen" (Known only to E.P.O.C.H.)

The owner of the club is believed to be Carl Marclonus (see below) to everyone outside of The Agents of The E.P.O.C.H. and their closest allies/associates. Almost everyone is unaware "The Man With The Plan" has The Hyperion as just one of many buisness pursuits upon the Core World of Coruscant.

Club Manager:
A man with a checkered past, most people were surprised to see the young Carl Marclonus "opening" The Hyperion, many believed he had no head for business and the company would fold within days. Since that time he has proven his skills in the boardroom to match those of his gunslinging.


Carl Marclonus, a Human
PERSONALITY: Quick, quiet, reserved and watchful. Carl used to be a smart-cracking street urchin who had a head for (illegal) business before he was found and tutored by The Falleen. Where he used to be impulsive and fiery, now he is collected and cautious, though he does possess a slight sadistic streak he tries to keep in check.

Head Barkeep:
With her empathic abilities and pheremone-manipulated persuation skills, Tiana is invaluble as the shrewd head of the bar who takes no crap off anyone, but is a general friendly and approachable woman.


Tiana, a Zeltron
PERSONALITY: Friendly and approachable yet shrewd and worldly, Tiana has seen it all. Though she doesn't suffer fools gladly she has a soft spot for the underdog and those whole wear their hearts on their sleeve.

Barstaff:
The six barstaff man the three bars, each on a day-on, day-off rota system.


Xim Chan, a Draethos
PERSONALITY: Quiet and polite almost to a fault, Xim is a favourite among the more 'select' clientele of the Bar due to his diplomatic and gracious ways.


Christine Lunelle, a Human
PERSONALITY: Friendly, bubbly and a little gossipy, 'Chris' is a firm favourite around the club and is highly approachable. Due to her ability to give a good impression almost all the time, she works the front-of-house and provides a friendly face to regulars and new patrons alike.


Adrian Veila, a Human
PERSONALITY: An ex-soldier attempting to adjust to civilian life after an injury meant he had to leave the Republic Army, Adrian is a very perceptive individual, always on the lookout for trouble. He is highly respectful of Zhorin and his men, and the feeling is mutual.


Lank, a Phindian
PERSONALITY: Constantly optimistic and upbeat, this Phindian's name is unknown but is nicknamed "Lank" due to his long arms. An extrovert, he loves keeping people happy even if the other bar-staff treat him like 'comedy relief' at times.


Trins Klusto, a Bothan
PERSONALITY: A consumate professional, everything Trins does is 'by the book'. He's been in the barkeeping business longer than anyone in the club, but turned down the position of head barman stating "he prefers the lack of paperwork." A font of local information, Trins can be relied on to know everything going on around the Hyperion. He even suspects there is more to Zhorin than he can prove.


Palu Stris, a Sullustan - Played by Redwatch
PERSONALITY: (For Red to fill, PM me on this one please sir!)
Head of Security:

Deadly, calm, quiet and serious, Zhorin is an imposing figure around The Hyperion and it seems odd to watch his security team (all of which are larger and more imposing than him) walk on egg-shells around him. Only The Mysterious Fallen and Carl are aware of his true identity as a Clawdite.


Zhorin, a Clawdite (Disguised as a Human)
PERSONALITY: Calm, cold and unfathomlty careful, Zhorin is a strategist at heart who never goes into any situation unprepared. Having spent most of his life on the run he is exceedingly cautious but confident in his abilities. He does nothing without express purpose and has at least three contingency plans for any given situation. He hates surprises, yet is drawn to them.

Security Team:
The Hyperion Security Team are tough, well trained individuals who know how to handle just about every violent situation (even lightsabers) and are responsible for the protection of all patrons within the establishment. Like the bar-staff, only have the team are on at any one time as they work on a rota-shift basis.


Hamal, a Barbel
PERSONALITY: Agressive, arrogant, strong and horribly resiliant, Hamal is also not the smartest tool in the box but makes up for it with the ability to follow orders, control his temper and keep a civil tonue in his head. He likes nothing more than pounding people who break the rules into a pulp and is the one out of the security force most likely to react with lethal response.


Gristak, a Feeorin
PERSONALITY: Gristak is quiet, quick and deadly. Despite his size he is a very dextrous Feeorin and trained in many forms of martial arts including some anti-force user techniques. An ex-assassin, only Zhorin knows why he now works as Hyperion Security.


Svent Zadane, a Cathar
PERSONALITY: A natural predator but with a distinct code of honour, Svent is the best of the security team at diffusing situations partly due to his reputation for being fair but also from his actions. On more than one occassion however people has misunderstood this for him being too soft, and for this reason his name is well known in many hospitals around The Hyperion.


Morastus, a Noghri
PERSONALITY: An ex-soldier, Noghri is known for his loyalty to Zhorin and is rumoured to have served with him before. His speciality lies in his execptional perceptions skills and hand-to-hand close-quarters fighting which leads him to most often be put on security detail at front-of-house.

The Band "The Super Novas":
Not quite as famous as they thought they would be by now, "The Super Novas" are an exceptional band with a unique elctro-blues style that is very popular in The Hyperion, whom the band perform for half the days in each week.


Cale Cata, a Ryn


Vidown, a Snivvian


Kuar, a Bith


Pax, an Ortolan

The Dancers:
Unusually for most women in the dancing scene in cantinas and other drinking establishments, none of the Dancers at The Hyperion are slaves or otherwise forced to dance against their will. Each is a paid professional and under the watchful protection of the Security Team.


Otara Demona, a Firrerreo


Zione, a Falleen


Asori Ka, an Arkanian Offshoot


“Ruby”, a Twi'lek


Lucia Reese, a Human


Nu-ada Nooram, a Rodian


Keylara Lasena, a Human


Nai'chi, a Twi'lek

Obviously not every single member of staff listed above a present all-week round, but each and every one of them can be found in The Hyperion at some point over a 7-day period.


Facilities:

* Comfortable seating for 300 patrons
* Live music 4 nights a week
* Dancing girls 4 nights a week
* Full resturant facilities
* 3 bars
* 20 hour opening liscence

Floor Plan:


3D View:



Facilities:

* Additional seating for another 160 patrons
* Open-plan balcony area overlooking dancefloor
* 3 additional public bars, 1 additional private bar
* The Darkroom: For photosensitive species
* 2 large seprate-gender restrooms
* A conference room
* 2 private suites for hire

2nd Floor - Pazzak Casino

Floor Plan



Facilities:

* Patron Safety lockers (Storage)
* 4 more bars
* 17 dedicated Pazzak Tables
* A Pazzak Tournament, included with "Pazzak Championship Table"

Floor Plan



Facilities Include:

* Private Access
* Full on-suite facilities
* Stunning view of Coruscant skyline
* Pool facilities
* Secure Holo-feed
* Personal state-of-the-art Shield Generators cover the entire floor.

(Note that all prices are by the GLASS. For the price of a bottle, get glass price x5)

Alcoholic

*A*

Abrax (Aquamarine Cognac) (8c)
Alderaan Ruge (6c)
Alderaan Wine (8c)
Ale (2c)
Andoan Wine (heavy, 'woody' wine) (4c)
Angerian Fishak Surprise (4c)
Antakarian Fire Dancer (potent) (5c)
Ardees Beer (3c)
Arkanian sweet milk (type of mead) (1c)


*B*


Bantha-blood fizz (purified bantha blood) (8c)
Bespin Port (very expensive) 100c per glass!
Bitter (2c)
Black Ale (Mandalorian) (2c)
Blossom Wine (Wine from Naboo) (12c)
Blue Dwarf (4c)
Bothan grain wine (5c)
Brandy (4c)


*C*

Calamari Xinphar (lightly alocoholic, pink coloured) (3c)
Cassandran Choholl (very expensive & exclusive) (110c per glass!)
Cassandran Brandy (more 'common' version, only 5c)
Chimbak wine (thick red wine from Alderaan) (10c)
Corellian Merlot (8c)
Corellian Reserve (golden coloured) (8c)
Corellian whiskey (woody, spicey flavour) (4c)
Cortyg brandy (purified version only sold to Wookies) (4c)
Coruscant Cooler (light wine and fruit mix) (4c)
Coruscant Red Wine (The "House" Red) (5c)
Crème D'Infame (posh wine) (50c)


*D*

Daranu (Spicy, nutty wine with pleasant taste and powerful aftershock 30mins later) (5c)
Darkoma (strong, rich wine) (10c)
Desert bloom (2c)
Deuterium-pyro (potent cocktail) (4c)
Dorian Quill (aquired taste, fermented 12 years) (15c)
Dornean brandy (high-quality liquor) (20c)
Dressellian beer (Cheap, tastes good, smells awful) (5c)
Durindfire (popular glowing cocktail) (5c)


*E*

Elshandruu Pica Thundercloud (imported from Nar Shaddaa) (12c)
Emerald wine (a light wine, goes well with food) (6c)


*F*

Fizzbrew (cheap, popular carbonated beer) (1c)
Flameout (stong alcoholic drink that 'burns' the throat, contains small amounts of Spice) (5c)


*G*

Gamorrean beer (very cheap) (1/2c)
Glastroan wine (mid-strength wine) (8c)
Gold wine (expensive, vintage wine from Hepes) (25c)
Grakkyn (very strong liquor favoured by wookies, imported from kashyyyk) (5c)
Green Galaxy (Green cocktail with swirling lights in it due to harmless chemical reactions) (5c)
Green champagne (self explanitory, favourite among Falleen) (10c)
Gruvian Tovash (med-strength alcohol that creates a blue smoke when mixed with Ryll) (10c)


*H*

Halmad Prime (popular wine from Halmad) (8c)


*I*

Ithorian Mist (a type of whiskey) (4c)


*J*

Juma Juice (4c)


*L*

L'lahsh (A coctail from Alderaan) (8c)
Lum (cheap, lightly-alcoholic drink) (1c)


*M*

Mad Mrelf (mid-priced VERY potent liquor) (12c)
Meir wine (from Sullust) (8c)
Meltdown (stronger version of "Reactor Core") (12c)
Membrosia (Gold Coloured) (5c)


*N*

Namana liquor (addictive, causes slight euphoria) (4c)
Necr'ygor Omic wine (expensive but well sort after) (25c)
Nectarwine (lightly fermented wine) (4c)


*O*

Old Janx Spirit (strong, distilled liquor) (8c)
Ondaran willek juice (strong but pleasant) (5c)
Osskorn Stout (cheap, popular foamy ale) (1c)
Ottegan mead (cheap, popular among smugglers) (1c)


*P*

Purple wine (10c)


*R*

Reactor Core (cheaper, unrefined version of Meltdown. Could cause mild hallucinations.) (6c)
Renan Irongut (4c)
Rodian wine (mild wine) (8c)
Ruby wine (light wine, goes well with food - especially fish) (5c)
Ryll beer (rather self-explanitory, contains Ryll spice) (8c)
Rylothan yurp (potent drink from Ryloth) (12c)


*S*

Sarlacc kicker (cheap, popular drink.) (2c)
Skannbult Likker (Strong, volitile and expensive due to rarity) (18c)
Snillik (thick, not paticularly pleasant beer drank by those who like to stay sober!) (4c)
Somnaskol Red (strong, expensive liquor; sold only in flasks (about 4 glasses worth) (60c)
Starshine Surprise (very intoxicating beverages, not sold to humans) (5c)
Sullustan gin (2c)


*T*

Tihaar (fruit alcohol) (Mandalorian) (3c)
T'ssolok (Twi'lek liqour) (3c)
Tarul wine (A prestige wine from Naboo) (20c)
Thikkiian brandy (A Wookie brandy) (5c)
Tihaar (Strong, clear Mandalorian alcoholic beverage that looked like syrup) (4c)


*V*

Vasarian brandy (a strong drink made from fermented fruits) (3c)
Veronian berry wine (strong, expensive wine) (20c)


*W*

Wookiee-wango (an alcoholic drink made with Sullustan gin. It was stirred, not shaken) (4c)


*Z*

Zeltron spiced wine (Tastes excellent, but also well know for its odd smell) (10c)

Non-Alcoholic


*A*

Anoat Malted (sweet, rich beverage)(1/2c)
Ardess (non-alcoholic version) (2c)


*B*

Boaboo juice (Imported from Sullust, made from fungus) (3c)
Blue Milk (2c)


*C*

Caf (Coffee) (1c)
Chav (an accompanyment to the food "Glowblue Noodles") (2c)
Chi'ffa (hot beverage, comparable to tea) (1c)
Colt 45 (hot stimulant drink, a little like coffee) (2c)


*D*

Daro root beer (non-alcoholic, golden in colour) (2c)
Dentarian Ripple (stong-smelling drink) (4c)


*E*

Espcaf (stonger version of Caf, as in Espresso Caffine) (3c)


*F*

Fizzade (popular Coruscant drink, carbonated) (2c)
Fizzwater (iced version of Fizzade) (2c)


*H*

Hot Chocolate (2c)
Hoth Chocolate (Hoth chocolate was a variant of hot chocolate containing Tauntaun milk) (8c)


*J*

Jaar (a type of sweetened milk) (4c)


*K*

Kanali Wafers (fruit drink) (4c)
Kothtri (Bothan spiced fruit drink) (5c)


*R*

Reythan berry juice (fragrant, amber-coloured juice) (5c)
Rush (highly charge carbonated beverage) (3c)


*S*

Stimcaf (essentially the same as Espcaf but with a different taste) (3c)


*V*

Veronian berry juice (non-alcoholic and considerably cheaper version of Veronian berry wine)

(4c)

It was hour 21 of Katunda and The Hyperion had already been open a couple of hours. People had patiently queued outside the large four-storey neon-lit building in the very heart of Galactic City, its mix of eerie glow and shadows a glamorous but slightly sinister throwback to golden years when Coruscant was at its prime, before much of the city-world had been bombarded by Sith warships.

The club itself wasn't exclusive or discriminative against clientèle but only those with large cred-sticks could hope to last the night out here, such was the price of The Hyperion. Towering high above the smog of Lower Coruscant it perched upon an area set back from a landing pad designed for airspeeders and smaller spacecraft. The pathway up to the club was large and elaborate, with searchlights on either side scouring the sky and acting as markers for incoming ships. In the desolation of the bombardment the newly-rebuilt club emanated a certain sense of hope.

The large rotating front doors were flanked on either side by a large and imposing doorman, taken from particularly ruthless stock who tonight were represented by regular faces: Hamal, a rather jovial and outspoken Barbel and his opposite, the quiet and calm Noghri, Morastus. Both found their jobs rewarding, especially when the opportunity to 'take out the trash' – as Hamal liked to put it – arose. They especially enjoyed reminding people that weapons of any kind – even lightsabers – had to be surrendered before entering the club.

Inside one found themselves in the rather grand entrance hall complete with its own bar and opulent seating area. The walls were adorned with a dark crimson colour that looked almost purple under the ultraviolet lighting that, along with the moonlight from outside made up the majority of the halls main light-source. The floor was made entirely from marble imported from Mygeeto and shone subtly under the luminescence. Large oak-effect double doors dominated the room that led into the division hall, but a door to the left past the bar led to the kitchens and at the other end of the hall the right-hand door led off to 'The Lounge', an area reserved for comfort and relaxed conversation (as well as private dances and more intimate meetings) away from the loud music of the main stage area. This area was already crowded and the bar was ten people deep, even this early in the evening. Behind the bar stood the charming and friendly Christine Lunelle, a dark-haired Coruscant-born Human woman who met regulars and first-timers with the same inviting smile and knowing wink.

The division hall itself served as the main way up to the higher levels of the Club via two black spiral staircases which were currently off-limits to the patrons due to the areas still being renovated. Less crowded than the entrance hall or the main stage area, there were nevertheless people milling around and chatting in the division hall, engaged in small-talk on large comfortable sofas that added to the relaxed atmosphere despite the fact the music from the main stage area could be heard more clearly here. A purple carpet mirrored the lighting effect of the entrance hall and the walls were dark and windowless but gentle ambient lighting in the corners gave the division hall a more relaxed feel before the opulence of the main hall.

As one continued through the division hall and into the main stage area their senses were bombarded by light and sound, an overwhelming and loud club atmosphere that left first-time visitors reeling. A mass of neon and bright lights, it could take time for a persons sight to adjust before seeing the layout of the largest room in the building. Consisting mainly of a colour palette of blues, purples and black the area itself was massive covering over seventy-five feet by a little over two hundred, partitioned into three specific areas: a main hall that contained the two large bars, the stage and the majority of the seating, and two large side rooms that contained the remains of the tabled areas, all of which offering seating for one-hundred and thirty people in this hall alone.

Although it was too early in the evening for the exotic dancing girls to be up on the main stage, the club's resident band, 'The Super Novas' were already in full swing on the magician's stage, entertaining the patrons with their unique blend of electro-jazz and upbeat dancing tunes. A large balcony from the floor above overlooked the main hall, with more neon lighting along the railings and offering additional seating and another two bars. Although closed to the public, the balcony was not entirely deserted. Anyone taking the time to look up would see the figures of the club owner, a human with long dark hair who went by the name of Carl Marclonus and his head of security Zhorin, whose golden cybernetic eyes glinted in the shadows of the balcony.

To say the main hall was packed would be to be putting great understatement on things and although there was room to move among the throng, one did not have to look in any direction for long without someone crossing their path, and species of all kinds could be found among the crowd.
Service droids darted back and forth collecting glasses and bringing food and larger drink orders to seated patrons as the two large bars were completely surrounded by bodies, all jostling among themselves and trying to get served.
At one bar was Adrian Veila, a dark-skinned human from Corellia and ex-soldier who found more joy in giving everyone a good night than he ever did ending the life of an enemy, and the appropriately named 'Lank', a long-limbed Phindian who was attempt at reaching across the bar with his long dexterous arms and also mixed a mean coctail.
Past the main stage was the opposite bar, tonight manned by Trins Klusto, a friendly and experienced Bothan bartender and Tiana, a stunning and charismatic Zeltron woman who's blue hair almost glowed under the U.V. Lights. She was the Head Barkeep and was standing in for one of her newer bar staff, a Sullustan named Palu Stris who was running late.

As the music played and people danced, drank and gambled; The Hyperion settled in for another busy and profitable night...

((Please start your post in the form of an introduction of your character, you're welcome to be just arriving or to have been here since the club opened 2 hours ago - have fun guys!))

As the middle-aged smuggler walks up to his his second favourite bar on Coruscant (not enough Twi'leks for his taste) he turns up his collar again and tries to hide his face from the exuberant lighting. He halts a moment quickly holding a hand in front of his mouth trying to sniff his breath:
“Probably best to pop in a mint Morts, not everyone likes the smell of stale Brogy stew.”
He glances at the 2 austere doormen: “Blast! Hamal, that mean son of a barve ... Just keep walking Mort, relax.”

Mort Obin does his best to stride in confidently ... he stumbles on the second step letting out a little gasp.

“Mumbles! Is that you you cheap old cantina rat?” a deep voice booms. “I thought Tiana had you banned after ... the incident.” The Barabel smirks at the blushing smuggler.

“Yes, well, uhm that was all just a misunderstanding Hamal ...” his voice trails of mumbling something about Zeltrons and 'the time of the month'.

“Yeah yeah, whatever Mumbles, just make sure you pay up before we throw you out again.”

The Noghri on the other side of the door clears his throat nodding his head in the direction of the street, but the little smuggler is too involved in his own ramblings to notice:
“Of course, of course my reptilian friend, by the way is Nai'Chi in tonight? 'Cause I got something ...”

A rotund figure flanked by 2 exceptionally sensuous Twi'leks walks up behind Mort and with unveiled irritation:
“Would you be so kind as to annoy some lesser citizens of our fair Republic little dwarfnut, we would like to enjoy our evening inside.”

A little confused Mort turns around, his mouth actually falling open slightly on seeing the two companions, he tries to rearrange his spiffy new Potolli fur coat (which cost him almost the entire profits of his last spice-run) and then he recognizes the man the two Twi'leks are leaning into:
“Senator Onal Tok! Excuse me, I didn't mean to in any way prohibit a man of such great import...”

The full figured statesmen brushes past the stammering smuggler, Mort can't quite catch what he's saying but judging by the Twi'lek's giggling it must have been very amusing.
He quickly follows the senator (but mainly his company).
Neither doorman even bothers to search Mort knowing that although the old man used to be known as a pretty fast draw he is so near-sighted he couldn't hit a Bantha if he was sitting on it.

Still blushing he pushes through the richly engraved front doors slipping his left hand inside his pocket: “Tonight's the night, oh yeah. They won't forget the name Mort Obin anytime soon, no sir!”

Soasles was already in the bar as the Senator walked past, accompanied by the best companionship money could buy....well aesthetically anyway, they were making noise's similar to a squib of rats hardly the finest noise in the galaxy.
And following right on their Lekku was a odd looking man, dressed in a finery you could tell wasn't his usual attire, it reminded her of a wookie slave she'd seen all dressed up like a human, completely ridicules.

The Nautolan stretched back in her seat as they walked by, her blue skin shimmering in the light and the gawking face of the furry man reflected in her large black eyes. As she was facing the entrance they had already passed her and were heading to the bar, she shook her head to loosen up her 15 tendrils that had become trapped and stroked one gently.

The Senator strode up to the barman in a way only “a man of the people” could, "I want everything on my tab tonight, inform the staff I don't want to be distracted! That’s what these fine young ladies are for" he stroked his hands over their Lekku and the rats giggled again.

As the senator handed over his credit tab to be scanned the Holo-tablet she held popped up a new window, the credit tab details scrolled onto her screen and prompted her for an amount, she stroked her tendril again, “My Senator how generous you are..” she smirked

Turning hopefully the last corner, Sol began to make out the signs and logo's that decorated his vision. Slowly through the dazzling range of lights, he released a sigh of relief as the word 'Hyperion' filled his retina. It was a rare treat to be given leave from the order and what better way to spend an evening than in a club with as big a reputation as this. Though as always Sol never seemed to ever truly be away from the whirlwind that was the life of a Jedi, places such as this were more often than not the best sources of information. Especially a club as well known as this he thought to himself.

Gracefully Sol began to make his final trek towards the famous club, saving his Jedi robes for a more official occasion he had decided that smart evening ware would be better suited to this occasion. A Jedi in full uniform was usually enough to cause a few un-wanted looks his way, coupled with the fact Sol was a proud Togruta usually helped to cause a stir, something that was not planned for an occasion such as tonight. Approaching the doors Sol was unsuprised to see two of toughest looking bouncers the galaxy had to offer standing between himself and his destination. A quick 'one-two' from the guards apparently had given them as much information as any security check could ever hope to achieve as a Barbel proceeded to enter into conversation with a loud grunt, with a streched out hand he began to speak. You ... Jedi? Slightly taken aback Sol quickly turned his head to inspect the crowd massing behind him, sensing no immediate danger from his responce Sol turned back to reply to the doormen I'm on leave for a few days The words felt odd as Sol spoke, the notion of leave had always seemed to him a very militant act, however last time Sol had checked the Jedi weren't counting themselves as anything of the kind. Still he thought I suppose things are changing Grunting again, this time with noticably more aggresion that previously, the Barbel extended his hand once more If your a Jedi then you will have a lightsaber Sensing where the conversation was heading Sol chose to remain quiet and subtely handed the guard his saber over . It was almost comical how much a Jedi felt lossed without his saber, a chance to escape the senseless violence that appeared to be rageing across the galaxy should have been welcomed with open arms, however strangely Sol felt quietly put-out

Finaly with a fleeting glance the two guards stepped aside and allowed Sol to proceed into the club, hopefully the following evening would be worth the temporal loss of his weapon. However if word of mouth was anthing to go by he was in for a very informative night. Making his way towards an empty seat Sol was suddenly stuck by the grandure and magificant that surrounded him, the temples of the Jedi were awe inspring and magnificant but it was clear this place was intended to thrill. Thankfully Sol reached his destination and was able to rest his legs that were slowly begining to ache from the previous afternoons exercise. During his days travel Sol had heard word that other Jedi were aparently visiting the famed Hyperion tonight, weather this was true or not, one thing was certain, Sol was in for a night to remember. If nothing else, usefull information was sure to be in the air.

"I'll have the same again Trins. By the way where's Xim tonight? Doesn't he usually work this shift?"

The bothan began pouring the drink. He made sure to fill the glass something he only did for his regulars.

"No idea. They've been messing around with our timetable again to save credits or something. Everyone keeps turning up at the wrong time!" Trins chuckled to himself "Want me to add this to your tab?"

Trins finished pouring the drink and skillfully spun the bottle before returning it to its usual spot.

"Yeah sure. Get one for yourself as well."

Godjera lifted his drink and drank like he had been stranded in the deserts of Tatooine. He downed it one attempt.

"That's strong stuff..." Godjera winced as he looked at the glass to see if he had left any "Keep 'em coming." Godjera tapped the bar beside where he kept his drink

"I better not have to carry you to your ship again Bantha Boy."

Only one person referred to Godjera by that name. While Godjera had been lucky enough to have a good upbringing, he struggled to look any better than scruffy. Tonight he had put on a new attire purchased from a tailor in Coruscant. Already it looked like old overalls. A smile appeared on Godjera's face.

"Little Miss! And how are you tonight?"

"Behaving yourself tonight Captain?"

The two friends talked as if they had known each other for years. In reality they had known each other since not long after that fateful night in the Swollen Shaak. Godjera being a man who liked to take advantage of anything and everything he could had already cost the Mysterious Falleen several thousand credits in free entertainment. Tiana had yet to work a shift without encountering the "Scruffy man from Talus". She was impressed by Godjera's incredible ability to consume alcohol. It was almost as good as a Zeltron.

"What d'ya mean? I always behave myself?"

Godjera, Trins and Tiana laughed.

"To be fair I have to behave myself tonight. Meeting someone. What time is it anyway?"

Godjera looked around for a clock. On the balcony he spotted Carl and raised his to glass. The young man managed a quick smile and salute before the head of security Zhorin brought something else in the club to his attention.

"It's still early..." said Trins "You better pace yourself!"

"I thought I was. This is the fastest pace I have set for a while. Get another couple of drinks buddy."

Tiana interupted.

"Get him one, Trins. If he passes out again I'm blaming you!"

The taxi carrying Harlon Rand sped down towards The Hyperion, Harlon grinned through the window as the taxi made to land. He ran his fingers through his short dark hair as he thought about the possible profits from the meeting tonight, he wanted to make a good impression, hell, he had even bothered to shave.

He flicked a credit chip to the Toydarian driver before leaving and making for the main entrance. He was greeted by the usual grim demeanour of Gristak, one of The Hyperion's security staff.

"Working the door tonight, Gristak, eh?" Harlon asked with a smile, the Feeorin only glared back in response causing Harlon's smile to become wider.

He swaggered through the main entrance bypassing the long que to get in Its good to have friends in high places he thought smugly, he knew some people could que for a long time and get to the door only to be turned away. The place was bustling as usual. He decided to head for the bar to get a Juma Juice before he met with Selko to discuss business.

He made his way through the building, his the dancers catching his attention and his eyes lingered on one of the Twi'leks too long as he walked into a waiter causing the tray he was carrying to crash onto the ground. The other guests didn't seem to notice or just didn't care.

"Sorry" he muttered.

"You could help my clean this up, it is your fault, y'know?" the waiter said trying to conceal his frustration.

Instead he reached into his pocket and threw a couple of Credit chips, the waiter seemed content with the money and set about clearing the mess. Harlon moved on, glancing back one more time at the dancers before he went. As he approached the bar he saw Christine Lunelle, probably his favourite, employee at The Hyperion. Harlon was a self-confessed womaniser and Lunelle was one of the few women who had always rejected his advances.

"Chrissie!" he said with a wide grin.

"Hello, Harl" Christine said without much enthusiasm.

"I'll have a Juma Juice on the house, gorgeous"

"No Harl, your tab has gotten too big. Tiana wants cash up front until you clear it"

Harlon's grin fell away and he muttered something under his breath. He took some credits out of his jacket and placed them on the bar. Christine took the credits and before Harlon could speak again, she had moved onto another customer. One of these bloody days...

He downed his drink and decided it was time to meet the Rodian. This night's gotten off to a bad start, hopefully it won't get any worse he thought to himself.

Vivaa sipped her glass of Cassandran Choholl. It didn't taste quite as she expected. It was more bitter with a warm feeling to it than the sweet taste she was expecting. Quite nice though and it was expensive and that was the main thing. Tonight she was treating herself. She didn't often drink alcohol, as it didn't really have much of an effect on her. But she didn't like to risk anything that could dull her reactions and instincts. The Hyperion was safe though, no one should have any weapons about them, and she was more than capable of handling herself in melee. So tonight she was going to let her hair down and have herself a very rare drink of alcohol. She was celebrating after all.

Vivaa had managed to seat herself at the bar in the Entrance to the club. Although the bar was very busy, it was quieter towards the kitchen end of the bar. She sat on a tall bar stool, with her long legs crossed. She was wearing red, her favorite colour. It matched her striking red eyes and hair, which was tied on top of her head and fell over her bare back. She was a Zabrak and she had a set of six small horns on top of her head, typical of a female Zabrak. She also had red facial tattoos. She wore a skin tight red outfit, no sleeves anf the back was open down to the small of her back. Long thigh high, skin tight red boots finished off the outfit. She wore a communication and personal organizer bracelet on her left arm. She fiddled with this, turning it over on her wrist. Checking it now and again to make sure she had missed no calls.

She sat sideways to the bar, watching the patrons of the club coming and going. A few faces she recognised, most she didn't. She went to take another sip of her drink and surprisingly found herself finishing it. 'Hmm, that does taste quite nice' she thought to herself. Vivaa looked down the bar and quickly got the attention of Christine, who was working the bar tonight. Vivaa raised her head and smiled. Christine walked over to Vivaa and holding a hand up to the other customers

"Be with you all in a sec." Picking up Vivaa's empty glass, she said "What can I get you Vivaa? Another Cassandran Choholl?"

"I think I will, thank you Christine dear."

Christine placed a clean glass on the bar and filled it. "So whats the occasion Vivaa? It's not like you to be drinking anything alcoholic"

Vivaa smiled at Christine and then took another sip of her drink. "I'm celebrating, thought I'd treat myself to a night out and a drink."

"Come on then, spill, whats the celebration?"

"Well lets just say I've reached a point in my career that I've been waiting for for a long time". Vivaa smiled at Christine and raised her glass and then slugged the drink back in one."Better keep them drinks coming Christine dear".

Christine shook her head in confusion and placed another glass on the table, filling it with the same liquid. "Vivaa, your just too secretive for your own good" She winked, turned around and rushed off to tend to the waiting crowd.

Turning aside from the bar again Vivaa looked out across the club. It was starting to get busy. She recognised a few more faces coming through the entrance. 'I'll finish this little drink and then head into the main part of the club' she thought to herself. 'See what sort fun we can have tonight' she smiled wickedly to herself and flicked her long red hair catching some and then twirling it with her fingers.

The Sith entered The Hyperion, this was the first time he would enter it, and probably the last, the Sith hid his lightsaber and used the force to avoid its detection, he then put up his dark hood over his face so the only thing you could see was his yellow eyes, shining like stars.

Good day he nodded to the guards as he entered the entrance hall, now lets get some drinks, the Sth walked over to the bar and stared viciously at Lank, the Phindian Barmen.

Id like Juma Juice please he said, breaking the disturbing silence, the sith then sat down relaxing drinking his juice, oh sorry he said to Lank, i almost forgot, here's ya credits, the Phindian took the credits nerviously, tttthankk yyou Mr um, call me Joren the Sith replied.

Joren took down his hood and revealed his face, it was battleworn scarred face with black hair, as soon as he did he started to look around the bar, and as he did he saw a collection of different people such as bounty hunters, smugglers, patrons, he also saw a number of difference species, then one person caught his eye especially, it was a Jedi.

As the minutes faded on no 'reinforcements' from the order had seemed to pass through the doors of the famed nightclub, then again he thought One Jedi is proberbly enough too keep security on their toes and looking around it was clear that the Hyperion was definatly not short of muscle. If the two bouncers outside couldn't handle a situation he shuddered at the thought of who the backup would be.

Suddenly with that thought, a tug of the force motioned Sol to turn his attention back to the new mass of guests that had just flooded into the room, as a whole the group seemed steriotypicaly harmless. Well dressed, pretencious, but harmless. However through the vale of strong perfumes and exspensive garments Sol noticed the outline of someone rather different. A man sat at a near bye table, dressed in a notably dark robe. Clearly this was not a person to give any care to others impressions. Moving slowly in the chair Sol noticed the fantest glimmer of two vivid yellow eyes, contrasting heavily against the opaque garment that doorned the rest of his body.

To his own stupidity, Sol had clearly attracted the attention of his new intest as a oppresive blanket fell upon him draining Sol of his previous merryment. Tapping into his own resolve Sol shrugged off the feeling and focused his vision directly towards the visitor. There's only a certain group of people that have that sort of influence His thoughts jumbled arond his head as he hastily attempted to asess the newely developing situation. Suddenly a fortunate realisation fell into Sol's head This isn't the place for a fight, and he knows it Fueled by the confidence the new logic had imparted onto him, Sol raised his glass to the stranger as a sign of wary recognition. I Knew this night wouldn't be dull

Despite the loud music and almost glaring lights of the main hall, all but those new to The Hyperion seemed to have little or no trouble communicating with one another, finding booths or gathering around tables if they wished to indulge in private or intimate conversation.
The vast majority didn't however, seeming to enjoy the party atmosphere either by lingering at bars or trying to impress others with their dancing, flirting or conversation; generally having a good time.

Being the central hub of activity in the building it was unsurprising that the main hall was beginning to fill with bodies at an almost alarming rate. From the balcony above Zhorin scanned the crowd with the unnerving perception he was famous for, looking for signs of trouble. So far it was a typical Katunda night. The band were in full swing and the punters were in various stages of inebriation, none of which seemed to be turning nasty.

A few of the more adventurous patrons were dancing on the main stage, but that was not really frowned upon so long as they didn't leave any mess when the dancing girls came out later in the evening.
As Senator Onal Tok waddled his way through the hall with his two comely companions in tow, the crowd diligently parted to let them past though more than one set of eyes fell upon the two twi'lek girls causing Tok to grin smugly. As the trio vanished past one of the bars and into the side rooms the whispers subsided and people got back to dancing.

“Great fat slug,” Tiana commented to Godjera, motioning her head toward the Senator as he vanished from sight. Wiping a cloth around the glass she was holding, she tutted in disgust. “....and those girls, have they no shame? No amount of credits in the galaxy would see me on that bulbous arm.”

Godjera finished downing his Mad Mrelf and grinned. “Yeah, true but....”
A stern look from the Zeltron made Godjera decide some sentences were best left unfinished.
He was just about to change the subject entirely when the curvaceous and very welcome form of Asori planted herself on the empty barstool to his right.
She was as stunning as ever, as all the dancing girls at The Hyperion were and miss Ka was a favourite due to her exotic Arkanian looks. Back on Arkania she was what was known as an 'Offshoot', a second-class citizen who did not possess the 'trueblood' species clawed hands or pupiless eyes. Her long white hair reached down a little way below her shoulders and her similarly white eyes shone silver under the lighting of the club. Dressed tonight in a crimson neck-to-toe dress that kept her well covered before her show it nevertheless failed to completely conceal her feminine curves and she got plenty of attention, even from newcomers to the club who had never seen her before. Many of whom were suddenly looking very dejected and downtrodden, turning away and muttering in disgust as she decided to spend her time talking to the rather scruffy looking rogue at the bar.
“Good evening, Godjera,” she said with a smile and a wink. “Buy a girl a drink?”

At the opposite bar Lank stretched his way around, reaching for glasses and spinning bottles to the amusement of the crowd that was gathering, waiting to be served. The Phindian learned long ago that if you were going to keep people waiting, if it couldn't be helped, at least keep them entertained.
His co-worker behind the bar, Adrian, has his attention elsewhere. A perceptive ex-soldier he was very good at sensing bad vibes, something which had kept him alive on many military campaigns and also one of the reasons Zhorin had pushed Carl to employ him, despite his anger-management issues.
His attention was on the exchange of glances going on between the smartly attired Togruta at the bar and the cloaked Human newcomer who had recently sat at a table not far away. Adrian could feel tension between the two and decided to keep an eye on the situation.

As Harlon Rand entered the main hall people seemed to subconsciously move aside to let him pass, as if they could feel his confidence and 'don't-screw-with-me' attitude. He looked about him, scanning the many faces in the crowd and dismissing those not of the Rodian species. The people buzzed about him like an annoyance, like watching a gaggle of idiots.
Selko had to be here somewhere.

As “Mumbles” Obin made his way into the large, loud main hall he had to shield his eyes from the intensely bright light and almost wandered straight into the large frame of a man who had seemed to have stopped just past the threshold of the door and was looking around at the crowd, searching for someone. Despite him managing to avoid a collision and apologising, he found his diplomatic civility utterly ignored and decided the man was either too engrossed or downright rude, neither of which warranted further interaction and so went past him into the main hall.
His mind wandering, he didn't see the woman coming until they slammed into one another painfully and fell unceremoniously to the floor. He hit the hard ground first letting out a slight whimper as the woman fell on top of him, almost winding him. Luckily for him she didn't weigh much and, frankly she was worth being knocked to the floor for. Quite petite but with an exceptional figure, her long dark hair reached the entire length of her back and her lithe limbs and thin waist gave her an almost regal elegance as she moved. As she climbed off Obin with an embarrassed smile he was instantly taken aback by her sincerity.
“Oh I'm so sorry! are you all right?”
It was as he climbed to her feet and aided the young woman back to her own that he recognised her from one of the nights he'd seen the dancing girls.
“I'm Otara,” she said in a polite but slightly coy way. “Do I know you? You seem familiar...”

In the entrance hall of the club Vivaa chatted to Christine between her serving of other customers, enjoying the evening and occasionally having to fend off ill-fated advances by people who, in other instances might end up as a statistic on the evening's HoloNet News. Tonight was a time for celebration though, tonight they were simply brushed aside.
She wasn't the only attractive female to be turning heads in the entrance hall to the club however, her striking red eyes fell upon the relaxed and reclining blue-skinned form of Soasles who was smiling and twirling her tendrils about using her long and dexterous fingers. Large black eyes followed the people as they came and went, a silent summing up of their potential going through her mind. It was unusual to see a Nautolan woman alone and unaccompanied in a place like this, and Vivaa couldn't help but wonder if their intentions for being here were not a thousand miles apart...

"Trins keep 'em comin'. And for Asori?"

Godjera glanced to the newcomer, prompting her to choose.

"Uh, I'll have a Cassandran Choholl."

"She'll have a L'lahsh!" said Godjera interupting quickly, "Nice try!"

"You're so cheap! Why won't you treat me to something nice? I'm sure any of these other guys would?"

"Yeah, but those other guys will also want something in return! So when you gonna leave this place and come travelling the galaxy on the Crimson Star?"

Godjera smiled and took another gulp of his drink. The smell of intoxicants was oozing from him and his thick hair was starting to look greasy from the repetitive grooming attempts of his alcohol soaked hands.

"Who are the three goofballs in the corner?" he said, noticing three admirers staring at Asori.

Asori turned around scanning the club for watching eyes "Who?"

Godjera nodding towards the the group "The Neimoidian, the Twi'lek and the guy with the beard." Godjera chuckled "It sounds like a joke!"

"I don't know them"

The group turned away as Asori watched them, obviously not wanting to draw attention.

"Well they obviously know you. They have been watching you since you walked into the place. You should keep an eye on 'em. Want me to go have a word? Trins another Mad Mrelf!"

Making a due entrance to the Hyperion, Ras'sa Kando made his way through the main doors to the entrance hall. Quite a crowd had succumbed to the nightlife and had already gathered in various areas.

Groups were mumbling, bickering. Everything you could expect for a good nights entertainment.

Making his way over to the bar near the main stage, Ras'sa walked in quite an unshaken and unearthed fasion, confidant yet casual. The Iridonian enjoyed a good drink every now and then.

"Tender!" Ras'sa spoke up "Grab me a Zeltron spiced wine" he continued

"Sure thing boss" replied the bartender.

As he received his drink, Ra'sa peered around at the teeming life. He had to be on his best behaviour tonight as his temperment was usually angry and stubborn yet sometimes concering. Best not get into trouble.

Still eyeing the crowd he noticed a female Firrerreo amongst the crowd, he had noticed her around before. True he liked her but not to his tastes.

"Ras'sa!!" a voice arose above the level noise of the Hyperion "Over here!"

Ra'sa peered around trying to locate the voice. Bingo.

"Markell you're here and drinking already?" proclaimed Ras'sa

"Yeah I've been here a few hours already" slurred Markell trying to steady his balance. "I just seen you get to the bar, what are you drinking?"

Before Ra'sa could answer a Cathar made his way towards them. He was well built, not the type of speicies to get in a fight with as they were quite resiliant. The Cather pushed his way through, his fur burshing past them both. By the way he walked you could tell he had already had a few.

The lights were dim in the Hyperion making it hard to see the outline of many of the characters there. Only the lines around their faces. The noise seemed to ascend in pitch as the night picked up pace.

"Stupid Cathar" mumbled Ra'sa grasping the air under his voice. The drink had tilted slightly when the Cathar passed spilling the liquid onto his clothes. He couldn't help but wonder wither he should approach and make a complaint or turn a blind eye to the situation. Of course, the night has only begun.

"Forget it Ras'sa" demanded Markell asurringly that they had better things to do with their time and the rest of the evening. "Let's go find some fun, there's none in that Cathar".

Markells eyes lit up as the moved in the direction of hall.

"I wouldn't worry yourself, 'Jera.", Asori said as she leaned her head on his shoulder and studied the glass of L'lahsh placed in front of her by Trins.
"Besides, I need to be on stage in less than an hour. Otara has worked out this new routine she wants us to try."

"You've got a good eye there, Godjera." The Bothan barman said, his large furred maw upturning into a smile.
"It's good to see someone else looking out for Asori, too. It's a dark ol' galaxy."

The Arkanian screwed up her face in defiance to the comment, but it ended up looking more endearing than defensive.
"I can look after myself, thank-you very much!"

"Sure you can," he grinned in response.
"...but you're also way too trusting. Men like Godjera here have been around, they've seen the tricks. They know the signs. You're lucky to have friends like that."

Looking beyond the pair, Trins nodded his head motioning them to follow the direction of his stare.

"Also," he said as they both turned round and watched the three onlookers - who were now trying very hard to go unnoticed - be suddenly joined by stealthy form of Zhorin who, sitting down among them took them utterly by surprise causing the Neimoidian to spill his drink.
"It seems you're not the only perceptive one."

“Sorry, sorry… Pardon me, coming through. Excuse me…"
At the sound of the familiar voice raised above the ambient noise in the club, Tiana looked up from the drink she was pouring. ”Well finally!” she muttered to herself.
Godjera and Asori turned slightly on their stools to look at the ripple of movement sweeping slowly through the mass of stationary bodies near the end of the bar.
”Excuse me, thank you. Sorry, if I could just… Thank you”
A well-dressed Sullustan was awkwardly attempting to squeeze himself between the persons gathered around the busy bar, trying to make his way to the far end service entrance. Whether the man’s slow progress was due to his being too polite or that the throng of moneyed patrons felt him beneath their notice was debatable. Either way, he found himself stuck where he was until a service droid carrying a tray of empties passed by. Without even pausing their conversations those in the droid’s path seemed to step to one side as if by magic. The Sullustan took immediate advantage and followed closely in the droid’s wake.

”Where have you been?” Tiana demanded of Palu as he quickly trotted up to her behind the bar.
”I’m so sorry Tiana” Palu earnestly said rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. ”I was out apartment hunting when I got your message. I thought Xim was supposed to be on shift?”
Tiana hadn’t stopped pouring the last order she had taken and now glanced at the flustered Sullustan. ”He needed the night off. Said he arranged cover and asked that I put your name down. That’ll be thirty-two creds on the nose, my lovely” She smilingly handed the last drink of his order over the bar to the waiting customer.
Palu noted her appraising look and stood a little taller, very proud of his new outfit. Dressed head to toe in black; open collar shirt, snug waistcoat, trousers and shoes (even down to the matt black metal buckle on his black belt), he felt every inch the successful Core-World barman. He certainly looked the part, though right now Tiana’s attitude towards him warned him how tenuous his new position still was.
Great, he thought. Not three weeks into your new job and you’ve got to go and p*** off the new boss.

Palu smiled and said hello to Trins who was making his way past the pair to fetch a bottle of wine out of the cooler. He waited a moment as Tiana finished her last transaction and logged off the till.
”He never said anything to me, that I can remember” Palu said as Tiana stepped aside to allow him to thumb the biometric pad and enter his passcode on the till. Feeling the need to explain himself he continued, ”Maybe because I’m nearly always here anyway on my nights off he thought there wouldn’t be an issue. Or to be honest, I just don’t think he likes me very much. I wasn’t going to say anything because I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ but if he’s setting me up to get the sack, well that’s just not something I’m just going to bend over for.”
In a gesture of irritation the Zeltron brushed her lustrous blue hair away from her forehead with her two forefingers, tucking it behind her ears, and gave him a frank ‘not in front of the customers’ look. Palu misconstrued her stare as an expression of disbelief and abruptly fell silent. Feeling dejected but keeping a friendly smile on his face, he turned to the crowd of patrons at the bar, ready to get stuck in.
”Who’s next please?”

Sen's smiling but nervous face looked over the towering body guards beforehand and despite Sen's height of six feet the two guards made him look like a tiny rat. Well maybe he only felt this way, that atmosphere was unsettling and rather forceful contrary to the peaceful and quite nature of Tython.

"Your weapon." One of the bodyguards grunted pointed at Sen's sword behind his back.

"Right..." Sen said with a rather disappointed expression on his face. He grasped the bandaged hilt lifting the sword from its sheath and placing the blade laying it down on his two hands for the two to see. For a deadly sword to carried by a young man it was an intricate piece of art. The hilt was covered in dirty brown bandages that showcased several imprints and grooves around the hilt giving it a rather unnecessary look but in battle its versatility rivaled that of a lightsaber.

The material of the blade itself was unknown but it gave a similar sheen like any common saber.

"Please be careful, its an antique." Sen said with a hopeful grin handing it to the guard.

Despite Sen's suggestion the guards simply threw it into a pile of other confiscated weapons which look more a dung pile that glisten. The two guards moved back giving way an entrance to follow through but before Sen could walk by one of the guards launched a black substance from his mouth that nearly landed on Sen's gray sandals. Grotesque but nothing to squabble about Sen simply shrugged his shoulders and entered the building.

He entered into and the scene turned from the eerie black darkness to an annoying neon brightness. Sen could not tell if he belonged outside or inside but he should not complain this was one of the few times he was able to leave nature and visit a more suburban side of life. However, it didn't seem like Sen was enjoying himself as he was not yet used to this many people at once. In contrast with all the people around him the many lights complimented Sen's attire. Even though he was from the order, a new initiative to be exact, he kept his normal robe that he worn as a swordman --- simple and white. Most Jedi wore heavy gray or sometimes black clothing but considering Sen's status he didn't need to wear such 'fashionable' attire. The best thing about this right now is that no one here would suspect his affiliation with the order or the Force he simply look like a distant but simple traveler.

Once Sen got accustomed to his surroundings he came to a seat near another robed man that gave out a strange familiar aura as if he knew the person but really didn't. Sen simply shrugged this off and brought his narrow closed eyes to the bar tender.

"Water would be fine for me." Sen said bringing a credit plate from underneath his sleeves.

"Excuse me, I am sorry to bother you sir but you seem familiar." Sen asked tapping the man bringing his attention." Sen asked.

((This is towards you Fox))

The lights almost blinded him as he turned towards his destination. Andariun was unfamiliar to this part of coruscant, it was a place very few of the jedi went. This was different however; this was business. Whilst walking down the road Andariun couldn't help but notice the variety of species among him. For once humans weren't the dominat race and buy the looks of it,there was no dominant species.

As Andariun approached the entrance he checked his clothing once more. He was not wearing his jedi robes, in a place like this jedi weren't often liked by others. Instead Andariun was wearing some simple clothes hoping that he would simply appear as a smuggler. Wearing a completely different set of clothing was one thing but putting up with the uncurable itch they gave him was something completely different.

The two bouncers at the door stopped him as he arrived, "Weapons?" one asked holding out his right arm. Andariun reached down to the holster which held within it a light blaster. He had simply brought it with him to add to his façade, he wasn't even sure if it was in working order. Surrenduring the blaster over to the bouncers Andariun proceeded into the club.

The room was filled with people from all over the galaxy. The force was flowing through every living thing. However there was a dark taint to it. Searching through the force Andariun could feel the source of the darkness, Sith. This was the reason Andariun he not come as a jedi, although violence was not permitted one could nvever be too carefull. Concerned for the saftey of those around him Andariun hid himself from the force, hopefully he had not been detected already.

Moving through the crowd towards the bar Andariun noticed something else in the force, something that was too strong to ingnore. His old friend, Sol Deran and sitting next to him another figure that looked familiar but the name had elluded him. Giving a small nod of acknowledgement towards Sol Andariun headed to where he would meet his contact.

If the night permitted perhaps he could spend a little more time here.

"I really am so very sorry," Otara continued as she looked all about her and somehow managed to address Obin at the same time. She had a nervous energy about her that was both infuriating and charmingly endearing. "You must find me so clumsy," She continued. "I know I would.."

Mumbles tried to reply, but she just continued speaking as if his very attempt interrupt her would be like a point-in-case of his name sake. "Will you let me buy you a drink?" She said cheerfully; interlocking her arm in his and virtually dragging the bewildered smuggler through the crowds before he had a chance to react.
"I need to be on stage soon, but I'd feel better if I could buy you a drink..."

In his younger years Obin would have paid good credits for the chance to be dragged toward a bar by a woman of such natural beauty. While he certainly didn't consider himself completely over the hill, he did find himself wishing that she would just slow the frak down.

As they reached the bar Otara smiled at Asori as the Arkanian saw her coming and waved.
"Hi Asori," she said, letting go of the frankly relieved Obin and wrapping her arms around her fellow dancer. Seeing the smuggler beyond Asori, Otara gave a wide, almost childish grin.
"Godjera, you old scoundrel! Back again so soon?" She winked then, and turned toward the bar before he could answer with one of his polished and practiced one-liners.

She watched and - for the first time Mumbles could recall - waited patiently as the Sullustan barman finished logging into his till and setting himself up for his shift.

"Could you get me a glass of Membrosia please Palu?" Otara said before she turned back to Mumbles.
"What will you have, Mr......?"

As he waited for the scrofulous character chaperoning the dancer to make up his mind, Palu smiled and nodded at his friend. “One Membrosia coming up”
Otara patted the nervous-looking Human on the arm encouragingly and leaned a little over the bar and raised her voice to address the Sullustan who now had his back to her. “Sharp outfit, Palu. You look great!”
Turning back round he placed the drink on the bar. The smile on his face was like the sunrise.
“Thanks, Keylara picked it out”
“She’s got great taste. It really suits you” Asori agreed. “How are the three of you getting along?”
“Oh, he’s a dear!” the Firrerreo answered. “It’s just a shame the apartment is so small or we'd keep him! He won’t even sleep on the couch. He sleeps on the floor in the entrance hall! And he’s always the first one up and tidied away in the morning!”
Palu shrugged and dismissed the raised eyebrows the girl threw at him. “I don’t want to be a bother. They’ve both been so kind.”

It was a week and a day, almost to the hour, he had been working at the Hyperion when Palu had got to chatting with Keylara in the Staff room again. He got on well with all the dancers at the Hyperion, showing a deference and respect not always afforded them from men who knew what they did for a living. There must have been some whispered comments made somewhere because at a gentle probing from Keylara he had cheerily confessed to actually not owning another presentable work outfit (the fact he thought the very cheap-looking and horrendously outdated clothing he’d thus far worn to work as ‘presentable’ spoke volumes) and he was waiting until his first payday to go out and find something similar.
He knew he must have made a good impression on the beautiful girl when she had immediately offered to show him round CoCo Town and help him find a bargain.
It was only the next day when at the club on one of his nights off that Keylara had changed her mind and almost angrily suggested she pick him up and take him shopping the very next morning. He didn’t understand why she shot such thunderous looks at the pair of giggling girlfriends she had been talking to, but he pointed out he didn’t have the credits to go just yet and not to worry about it. She had insisted she would loan him the money and wouldn’t hear any more objections!
And that, indirectly, was how he had come live with Keylara and Otara whom she shared an apartment with. Keylara and he had had such good fun on that day that by the end of it Keylara decreed she would definitely under no circumstances be taking him back to the Warehouse District where she discovered he shared a room in a small hostel. Otara had been taken somewhat aback, not knowing Palu so well at that point, but must have trusted her roommate’s judgement because she hadn’t raised any objections when asked by Keylara if it was okay for Palu to stay.
So he had been living at their place for almost a week now while they helped him look for more permanent accommodation. And he had made every effort not to intrude on their privacy or take advantage of the friendship they offered which was dearly precious to him. He hadn’t realised how lonely he’d felt until there were suddenly people to come home to, but he was resolute not to outstay his welcome and jeopardise these new friendships.
And so his routine had developed; by day he hunted for an apartment of his own to rent or share and then worked alternate nights at the Hyperion, nursing a drink or two there (the drinks were so expensive!) on his nights off. He spent his free evenings at the club not just because he had nowhere else to go and didn’t want to bother Keylara or Otara by hanging around in their home, but also because there were rumours that the Hyperion was frequented by the best guns-for-hire on the city-planet. Palu still dreamed of a life of danger and camaraderie and following that dream had lead him all the way to the galactic core and this very nightclub. One day, soon he hoped, he would make that first introduction that would open the door to a new life.

"Godjera, you old scoundrel! Back again so soon?"

Godjera didn't get a chance to answer.

The club was beginning to fill. The variance of races and accents was impressive. Godjera has travelled across the galaxy, but very few places could draw such a diverse crowd.

He began to think of his time on Tatooine working as a "protection" collector. He hated the idea of screwing innocent people, but it was the only way he could get connected.

"Trins, another!"

Godjera continued to keep an eye on the suspicious characters, even though Zhorin was probably more than a match for all three. But he hoped for something to do. Something exciting. Like a damsel in distress, or a smuggling run for some spice marketeer, or even a mission from the boss. But for now he had to stare at an occasionally empty glass, and an ever decreasing credit balance.