Log:Array Consortium: A Day Out With Captain Gann
Having been prodded enough about what he does on his own smuggling rounds, Adhar takes Zuhj and Tamrae with him to show them what he does all day when he's not captaining the Business or otherwise chasing the almighty credit. Hilarity ensues.
And so Adhar brought you along on a job.
The Captain does a lot of this sort of thing, usually alone - or, on occasion, with a member of the ship's security unit, who never talks about what they're up to. On occasion, though, they show up not in their usual coveralls, but in beautifully-wrought battle armor, to match Adhar's own style. Other times it's gowns or suits, whatever fits the gender or prefernce of the two. This time around, it's definitely suits, with Adhar bringing you all aboard wearing finery of your choosing, with Adhar himself electing to wear a dark blue suit with a shimmering gold sash from shoulder to waist, fixed with a pin that is in the shape of the Consortium's logo. Ahdar's hair is styled and quite fetching, and his eye prosthesis replaced with a golden apparatus which is smaller, sleeker, and heavily engraved. Additional lenses are set in, though far smaller. All in all, he looks like some kind of executive than he does some kind of smuggler, which is of course the point - the four of you are heading to Calla Caron, an orbital pleasure station over the vast, remote gas giant of Madan Four. What are we getting? He won't say, mostly because that's the job, apparently. Not until it's picked up and in transit.
Currently Adhar sits in the living area of the Voidwing, fairly snug but very comfortable and luxurious, reading from a datapad while the ship's retractable table is down and full of snacks and drinks for all. Business while in hyperspace, mind you. Of course, you have all been allowed to choose whatever clothes and fancy that you'd like.
Tamrae has been busying herself double-checking the maintenance for the Voidwing, because that's pretty much what she does. And she's been a bit busy to actually work on things herself for a while, so she likes doublechecking the work. That said, she's been pretty much done with that, and ambles up into the lounge area, waving to Adhar as she makes a beeline for the food the moment she sees it, plopping down and digging in as she snags somethign to drink and munch on. "Hi boss!"
"It's going well, thank you, Zuhj," says Adhar, looking up as the lot of you assemble. The ship is only just underway, though the pilot is handling the course. "And thank you for saying so." He puts the pad down. "So I appreciate your all coming with us. I thought I'd ask for some help on this job, which I know seems unusual since I do so much work on my own or with my co-pilot."
Tamrae frowns. "...do I really gotta wear th' fancy dress?" she says, squirming. "It's..weird...." Says the girl who has never really worn one before. Just shipsuits and overalls.
Bar'duur finds a place to settle, in a seat or whatever. He nods to Zuhj too and smiles a bit toward Tamrae. "Dresses in general or just specific ones?" He asks in a casual tone.
"No problem," Zuhj replies casually to Adhar as he sets himself up with a drink and has a decent sized sip before finding a place to sit down. "I was wonderin' about you askin' for us to accompany ya', but I figure ya' have a good reason." He looks over at Tamrae, "Ya' don't wanna dress up? I think it's fun. I never get to wear anythin' fancier than a jumpsuit." Then his attention swings over to Bar'duur, nodding at the man politely, "You been doin' alright?"
"Everyone dresses up," Adhar says, his words gentle but brooking no argument. "It's part of the cover, so to speak. We're going to do business with fancy folk, we have to be fancy ourselves." He looks between the lot of you and smiles. "So," he says. "It's a deal. Specifically, a spice deal. Tamrae, I take it that you haven't fooled about with the life support system back there, eh?"
The petite Codru-Ji grumbles, folding both sets of arms. "In general." she notes to Bar, then frowns at Zuhj. "I don't know how to do fancy stuff..." she says, a bit plaintively, but retreats back to the crew area to actually put on her dress. Because of course what people will think of her matters! Majorly! She could be totally uncool!
Bar'duur hms gruffly. "I never used to wear anything fancy, first time I wore a suit was the first job I got after I left Iridonia." He tugs on his suit a little. "You get used to it." He tells Zuhj. "They dont feel comfortable unless you have them made for you, even droid tailors are better than just buying one." He glances over to Tamrae. "Goes for dresses too."
"I'll help you," Adhar says, giving Tamrae a patient smile. "I've a few gowns selected that would look nice on you, and I can do your hair, and your makeup." He can do her what, and her what? Well, on the other hand, he's gone from his usual grump to a rather fashionable bastard himself. Did he do that too? "So go up to the refresher, open the locker next to it, and pick the...black women's suit, I think, with the silver embroidery. I'll be up in a minute." That said, he gets to his feet. "Gentlemen? We'll be at Calla Caron in a few hours and I need to make her fancy. When we're done I'll explain everything."
And so he does, assuming Tamrae doesn't give him any trouble, go up with her and have her change - taking time to make sure the fit is right, not being creepy but brisk and professional in a way that speaks of great practice in doing this sort of thing. Soon enough, after a successful but ultimately (in Adhar's judgment) false start, he goes to town and does a magnificent job of it. Our Liza Doolittle, so to speak, is made to shine, her hair done up in a simple but very elegant updo strung with a platinum chain-of-charms, sharp-looking boots, and studs of baby Krayt pearl. Gunmetal eye shadow, that sort of thing. He fits the jacket so she can wear her pistol underneath. Adhar leads her out back into the common area, then, and explains the job.
The job is to smuggle a hundred and fifty kilos of Gree spice, which is one of the stronger, far less addictive euphoric narcotics out there, to Calla Caron, where he will arrange the sale with a man named Nodor Natis, a broker to the wealthy and powerful. Calla Caron is his territory, and he has a poor view of smugglers he doesn't personally trut, in general; this will be the first business interaction with him, but Adhar is quite familiar with him in general. "A grumpy old bastard who cheats at cards," Adhar describes him, but that's where we're going. You lot are to be his backup, with Bar'duur as his spokesman, Zuhj as muscle, and Tamrae as a little of everything but mostly tech support - she'll be tending to the droid in which the drugs are to be packed, a friendly little R2 astromech named BN-E3, or Benny.
Soon the ship is dropping out of hyperspace, and the first of the challenges come about - the pilot calls for Bar'duur to come up and speak to customs, who are already challenging the ship as it comes in. Cara Calla is near the borders of the Corporate Sector, after all, and while they're all rich and powerful up there the CSA occasionally gets nosy even if it's not specifically on their side of the border. It's a big, angry-looking refit of a Marauder-class corvette that's awaiting the Voidwing outside.
Tamrae is a bit embarrassed to have her BOSS doign her hair and makeup, but she's pretty hopeless and desperate so she puts up with it, abet with a blush the whole time as she's worked on after she gets the dress on.
The dress itself resembles a short Kyuzo kimono, made of a strange shimmery blue and black cloth that like fine silk. The colors shift slowly in an ever changing pattern, the blue color like a cloud flowing slowly over the black like a nebula in space, with little silver dots like stars floating within the patterns, making it look like she's wearing a little bit of space itself. The collar is trimmed in black lace in a short V that exposes her throat, before the line of lacy fabric follows the lapel at at angle over where the dress outlines her chest snugly, running down to her right hip, where it disappears under a wound obi-like belt of the same black silk-looking fabric, with threads of silver running through it. Visible at her neck is a thin choker of blue fabric edged with black lace, a little silver crystal starburst centered at her throat. The upper and lower sets of sleeves are wide, in a anging style that falls in a graceful arc, widening as it reaches the black lace cuff. Below her belt, the dress fluffs out in a layered look, the blue fabric the topmost layer, then below and under that a smooth short black silk skirt edged in silver, and finally, black ruffles trimmed in lace as the bottom layer that fall to about mid-thigh. She wears thigh-high stockings, smooth black silk with shimmering tiny crystals dotting the fabric that leave little silvery threads trailing behind them like comets. Over her feet she wears odd calf-high boots, a similar blue to her dress, but open at the front all the way down to her toes. Instead, a series of thin buckled black straps run over her shin, down her ankle and over the top of her foot, with a thick three-inch heel at the back giving a few more inches to her height.
Bar'duur reaches for the communications. "This is the Voidwing, we're here to meet with Calla." He communicates, but he calls to the back to let the others know they've arrived..
Well, we know that Adhar can be fashionable as eff when he wants to be, which makes one wonder why he usually isn't - or that is what people might say, given how much crap he usually gets about his fashion sense. Nevertheless, you are all quite well-dressed, and whatever Bar'duur says up in the cockpit gets the lot of you through. Within an hour, the ship is in one of Calla Caron's exclusive private landing bays, and the lot of you are heading from its confines to one of the many casinos that populate the station.
Calla Caron was built during the days of the Old Republic, and its decor makes that clear; it has the same elegance and wealthy attributes as places like Canto Bight, all frosted glass and giant greel-wood panels and gilding in bronzium and auramite. The four of you walk along, like a proper entourage, down past guard stations and other places - with no fear, as your weapons are all legal and safetied, as per Adhar's request - into the lower levels of the station, past all the open-plan leisure domes and racetracks and all, toward a smaller, high-roller's den called the Red Kath Hound.
"I hate this place," Adhar says cheerfully as the four of you pile into a private tram car that takes you down through the stations' cylindrical structure toward where the finer casinos await. "I'd like to burn it all, really. These people are all war profiteers and slave-owners. Should have loaded Benny here with thermal detonators, not spice."
Benny, for his part, whistles in dismay.
"Maybe next time...though I'd rather load him with a computer spike an' leave with some of those credits they earned like that." Tamrae points out, walking along beside the little droid, then pats him on his head. "Don't worry little guy, we're not gonna blow ya up."
"We can hope some o' these guys decide t' get outta land an' we can cut 'em down where they stand. Not that I feel like shootin' my way outta here, rather not make an impression on folks unless it's for a real good reason," says Zuhj as he closely studies the party's surroundings, trying to make sure that they're safe as can be and not at all surrounded or anything like that.
"I do a lot of business here," he explains, saying this more to Zuhj than Tamrae - as he's the smuggler here, after all. "They're horrible people here, but they pay obscenely well. Mostly because, as I say, they're all war profiteers and slavers, be it literally or corporate. Lots of work out this way, but you have to have a certain reputation and a certain...finesse." Yes, this is Adhar saying this. Finesse.
Soon the tram glides to a halt, and the lot of you emerge and go down a moving sidewalk to a cluster of casinos in a wing abutting the primary structure. Here, the casinos are small, intimate affairs, little more than very fancy versions of the card parlors you'd run into on pirate stations and Nar Shaddaa; Adhar leads you into the Red Krath, where everything is black leather and old wood and velvet hangings that are - indeed - red. "Look around for a Gran," he says. "Should only have two of his eyestalks. Third one, the middle one, should be gone."
Tamrae is mostly looking around like the rube she is, her eyes a bit wide at the...well, sheer bling and high class nature of the place. She's a bit overwhelmed, sort of hunching in her shoulders a little nervously. But because of that, she also completely misses the guy they're here for, too busy trying to look everywhere at once.
"I don't mind makin' money off folks like this," Zuhj says to Adhar as he continues inspecting the patrons surrounding them. That's when his eyes settle on the being that the group is looking for. Nodding his head in the Gran's direction the Nikto says, "I figure that's guy we're looking for. Me and Tam'll get your back if somethin' starts up in here, but it looks like too classy a joint for that t' happen."
"Suns below, would you be surprised." Adhar's mutter is mostly to himself, and his grime expression bursts into a smile as he approaches the table of a large, ancient Gran, his goaty head indeed lost its central stalk - or perhaps never grown one - and is backed by a pair of very large, dour-looking Herglics adorned with as much scar tissue and bionic replacement parts under their suits as Adhar may be one day. "I greet the auspicious fellow all know as Nodor Natis," he announces pleasantly, one hand tucked into his sash as he steps into view of the Gand and executes a graceful dancer's bow. "It is excellent to make your acquaintence."
The Gran's ancient remaining stalks crane up at Adhar, then the two of you behind him. "Well, you've got manners, at least," the goaty fellow says. "Who are you, and who are these people you've brought along? There aren't supposed to be droids here."
Tamrae hangs back, sort of a bit behind Zuhj to be honest. But really, this is Adhar's thing, the whole...talking thing. And relating to people! She'll just...be back here. Yus. by the droid.
"This is my security man," Adhar says, gesturing to Zuhj, "And my technician. Who's looking, as you see, after this droid. This is Benny. Say hello, Benny."
The droid beeps faintly, unsure.
"My name is Adhar Gann, sir. Green Wattin sent me."
The Gran looks between the two others. "I don't like Codru-ji," he says bitterly. "Too many arms. She has to go."
Tamrae blinks a bit. "What? What's wrong with my..." She cuts off as she glances at Adhar. "...right, I'll just...go...over there. Or something." she says with a frown, then wanders over to look over some of the nearby 10 credit machines. Shiny!
"Stay there," Adhar commands Tamrae, a bit of iron seeping into his tone. He returns his gaze to the Gran, pursing his lips. "If my crew offends you, Nodor Natis, I am sorry to hear it - but they are my crew, and they will not leave. After all, without Tamrae here, there is no possibility of a deal."
"And why is that," the Gran replies, snout forming a frown.
"Because she's looking after the delivery device," Adhar says, giving him a sudden, bright grin. "And we need those four lovely arms to do the unloading, you see?"
"Ah." The Gran eyes her a second time, then nods. "Then she can stay."
"Brilliant!" Adhar gestures to the table. "Then let's get down to business. May I sit?"
Tamrae freezes, a bit like a varg caught in high beams as she looks between the Gran and Adhar, then slowly drifts back to the droid, patting the top of its head lightly. She looks a little unsure of what to do now, but she figures standing by the droid is probably okay for now.
Yeah, ol' Zuhj is a useful crewman today. He stands near Adhar, silently studying the Gran and his cohorts. When the guy declares his distaste for Codru-ji the Nikto would frown, if his lips could turn that way. But then things are going back on track and he's got nothing to worry about right this second. That's much better.
And so the two begin to carve out an agreement.
As Adhar said, Nodor Natis /is/ a miserable old bastard, one who seems to go out of his way to try and undercut Adhar at every point to buy up that big old wad of space drugs - but Adhar, without so much as raising his voice or reaching for a gun, manages to deftly counter the man's skinflint ways with his own, raising the price time and time again. Finally, it turns into a card game, and Adhar ends up playing Sabaac with the man, doing rounds back and forth, losing badly just for show, losing a few thousand credits to the old goaty bastard. But ultimately, this appears to be just the ceremonial end to things, because once they play another last hand, Nodor Natis waves a broad, knobby hand.
"Enough, enough. You've convinced me, Captain. Eight hundred fifty thousand - but not a credit more, and only because I've gotten some of my own back playing with you!"
"Of course," Adhar says with a nod, smiling despite himself. "You are most gracious, Nodor Natis. Obviously this is why you are such a wanted buyer."
"I'm a wanted buyer because I can sell to people with far more money than sense," the Gand says with a grunt. "I'll double that money inside of a month. Very well, Gann, if you've done trying to impress me, then you can take that droid of yours - what's its name?"
"His name is Benny."
"Yes, that Benny contraption over to my personal hangar, and leave it with the guards. Don't stop to dawdle around, now, get it over there."
"Of course, Nodor Natis," Adhar says as he gets to his feet, bowing pleasantly. "It was excellent doing business with you." He turns, then, and gestures for the three of you to follow him once more.
Soon enough, you're on the tram again.
Tamrae mmms. "So...th' hangar is in th' same spaceport we came in on, right? So it's kinda close? No major trips across th' planet or somethin'?" she says hopefully. This is probably partly due to the skeevy Devaronian who started hitting on her during the third hand of sabbaac and wouldn't take no for an answer until she was about ready to go for one of her vibrodaggers.
"Station," Adhar says with a chuckle, nodding at Tamrae. "Station. But yes, nobody cares around here - it's as absolutely lawless as a shadowport, just for people with the right amount of money. This, you'll see, is part of why I dress like I do and fly what I fly." He grins a bit at that, then nods at Zuhj. "Well, you were very useful, even though you didn't have to do anything. You're obviously skilled, and you cut a good figure. Plus your race is known for being tough as nails, at least that's the stereotype." He shrugs. "DIdn't think he'd be nasty to Tamrae, though. I'm worry about that, T."
The Codru-Ji shrugs. "I'm used ta it. It's a lot worse on Nar Shaddaa, dependin' what district yer in." she admits, her lower hands absently smoothing her skirt as her upper clasp behind her as they walk. "Just usually they're not so obvious about it when it isn't when ya wander inta th' wrong area or stuff."
"Rich folks are just as likely t' be scumbags are poor folks," Zuhj confirms with a nod as he finds something to lean against inside the tram, looking around pretty much constantly as they travel. "Thanks, boss. I figured ya' brought me because Niktos are known for bein' real good muscle." Then he shrugs his shoulders, "I don't see how anyone would wanna be mean to her, but I ain't no expert on people." To Tamrae herself he says, "Lots of scumbags out there gonna judge ya' before they know ya'. Just remember that it's their loss if they ain't willin' t' deal straight wit' someone just cuz' they look like a human or whatever."
"Should've taken another eyestalk," Adhar mutters. "'Too many arms,' my sac." This lovely thing said, the richly-dressed smuggler leans back in his heavily padded seat and looks at Benny for a moment as the tram car goes back through the station's cylindrical middle. Outside, it's like traveling through a rolled-up map, lit from the inside, all manner of land and manors and palatial grounds stretching on all round the central tram track. It's very strange in its way.
"So, Tamrae," Adhar says after a few moments. "You gotta get Benny here open without hurting him, and get the spice out. You think you can do that without damaging our little friend, here? Because he's a friend of a friend, and I'd /really/ rather not him be in any pain." At this, Benny whistles agreement.
"Well," Adhar says to Zuhj's comment, "I brought you mainly so you can see how these kinds of deals go down, but it never hurts to use people's suppositions against them."
The tram rushes on.
"Um, pretty sure? I mean, as long as it isn't literally built into a component or somethin' that I gotta break open." Tamrae says, glancing at the droid thoughfully. "I don't work on droids much, but it can't be that hard, right?"
"It's good t' know how things work. I appreciate ya' bringing me in on this," Zuhj says to Adhar with a nod of his head, sounding appreciative. Then he goes back to relaxing and watching out for stuff, letting the other two talk about droids and whatnot. That's not exactly something he's too familiar with.
"That's...encouraging," Adhar says, eyeing Tamrae faintly - for his part, Benny makes a noise that sounds very much in alarm.
"She's kidding," Adhar says to him. Adhar knows she's not, obviously, but the droid stays quiet.
After some time, the four of you emerge once more in the area of the docking bays; Adhar, knowing the way, leads you through the gorgeous halls toward a hangar on its own isloted track - which is what money gets you in a place like this, your own personal hangar. As you approach the door, however, Benny begins to hang back, whistling furiously.
Tamrae pauses, looking back at the little droid, her lower hands resting on her hips. "What? What is it?" She looks to the others. "Do either of you have any idea what's got him freaked out?"
"Naw, I don't speak droid," Zuhj replies to Tamrae as he watches Benny make a lot of noise. His eyes go towards the door, though, "Might not be a good thing it's freakin out like this. Could mean there's trouble up ahead." The Nikto pauses to take another look around, making sure to check to see if anybody's moving to approach the little group. This could potentially be a situation, after all.
Watching the droid more closely Zuhj starts to shake his head, "There's somethin' wrong with 'im." He doesn't make any moves to approach the droid, though, keeping his distance at the moment, "Can't tell what it is, but the little guy is in distress." Then he addresses the droid itself, "What's wrong? Ya' need somethin' there?"
"I don't...I don't understand much in the way of Binary," Adhar says, frowning at the machine, who he then attempts to sweet-talk. "Calm down, Benny," he says, squatting down a bit and holding out his hand toward the little droid. "It's fine, buddy, nobody's going to /aaaagh!/"
Adhar jerks his hand back, as Benny's welder arms snaps out and puts a quarter-sized plasma burn on the back of his hand. Suching in a breath, he shakes his head, biting back curses. "Dammit, Tamrae," he says between clenched teeth, "See if you can't figure out what's wrong with him!"
Tamrae's ears have perked forward slightly, her nostrils flaring as she wrinkles her nose a moment later. "Ah...whoa, that's...not supposed to be happenin'..." She tilts her head, trying to calm the droid. "Hey buddy, pop yerr periscope for a moment to see if we can vent this stuff...I think.....wait, no, that wouldn't be part of th' components in th' head." she says, sniffing the air. "Um, somethin' burnin' in his head....it's some sorta chemical?" She glances at Adhar. "....boss, where exactly did ya put th' stuff?"
This is the point where Zuhj knows he's not going to be useful. With a malfunctioning droid he's going to let the mechanic do her thing, especially if it's now trying to weld people that handle it. Actually, on that thought, "Be careful, Tamrae. Maybe ask him to open up all his flaps and doors and whatnot? See if ya' can see inside him that way?"
"The spice is in the bottom quarter," Adhar says, wary, and then biting back his pain speaks again. "Benny? Benny, buddy, plase calm down, all right? Can you us...show us what's happening on your display, all right? Please?"
This time his words seem to have purchase, if barely, and though Benny doesn't move, the little display screen on his body lights up with a swarm of Aurabesh.
BURNING UP INSIDE...TOO HOT...NOT RIGHT...
With a quick motion, Tamraw crouches down, then runs her fingers over the outer chassis of Benny, feeling for heat, then looks for a panel nearby she can pop open if so to relieve some of the heat...or put it out. "Hold on buddy, I'm lookin' now....I don't suppose ya can point yer extinguisher at yerself if i get it open?"
Yep, time to try to act as nonchalant as possible amidst all this rich stuff while the droid possibly melts itself. That's what Zuhj is thinking as things seem to be going from bad to worse. He spends more time watching their surroundings than watching the unfortunate droid, making sure they hopefully aren't drawing too much attention to themselves just yet.
As Tamrae scrambles to attempt to open Benny's casing, the metal is too hot for her to get a proper purchase on - Benny, for his part, is starting to make a wailing noise, and the screen on his chest begins to crackle as it reads TOO HOT TOO HOT HELP PLEASE TOO HOT and smoke begins to curl out of him for real.
"Suns below," Adhar hisses, getting down on is knees next to try and help get Benny's case open, but with his existing burn his hands aren't any good, either; if anything he makes it worse, burning his fingertips as he tries to prise open a panel. Hissing, he keeps at it though - after all, it's just pain, right....
"....frell it." Tamrae says finally, slapping away Adhar's hand, then reaches down to under her skirt and produces...one of her vibrodaggers. Where she had that hidden exactly is a mystery. She flicks it up, putting the tip carefully to the hot area, then tries to cut a small circle to release some of the heat at least to see what the heck is going on.
Tamrae gets a service hatch open, revealing a flaming box fixed under the rotating dome housing of the droid's cyberbrain. It's obviously not standard, both from its function and its design. Whatever it is, it shouldn't be in there.
Even as Tamrae gets the droid's body open, Benny manages to articulate his extinguisher around to gush a mess of cold vapor into his body, chilling the device as well as most of his internals; the device goes dormant, at least for the moment, giving Tamrae a moment to try and remove it. Meanwhile, Benny lets out a sigh of relief.
But as this is going on, the noise has attracted the attention of those on the other side of the hangar door - several large aliens in heavy battle armor emerge from the Gran spice dealer's private bay, pointing equally large guns in your collective direction and barking challenge. Oh! Good.
The mechanic's problem is simple...she doesn't have any tools. A vibrodagger, while technically a tool, is not a tool intended for fixing a droid, but for putting holes in things and people. Still, she tries, as Tamrae sets the edge of the blade and tries to carefully pry the box loose...which causes it to skid off and slice through a wire. Luckily she didn't have vibro function on or it might have done more damage.
However, she's a bit irritated now. "Right. Hold still." she says, flicking the blade on. This time, she lines up the cut, then cut the box free in a deft, slow slide, letting the blade saw through what's security in so she can pull it free and toss it on the floor. "There!"
Zuhj's words move the guards not at all, and they train the guns on the three of you - even Adhar attempts to calm them. "We're here for your employer," says Adhar, gesturing to the droid. "This droid is malfunctioning, but he has the goods that your employer has agreed to buy from me. My name is Adha--"
Just then, the unit that Tamrae managed to dislodge lurchest to life once more, and this time in full working order; the thermal charge emits a loud boom and spews flames out of all four sides of its roughly square body, halfway melting a hole in the deck and whats left of its casing falling a few inches into the subflooring. None of this convinces the guards one bit, and both of them charge their carbines. Something's got to give, and quickly.
Tamrae takes cover behind Benny as the charge goes off, burning a hole in the deck. "Yeeeeeeeah, I think safe ta say that's not standard equipment. Someone planted that on him." she says with a frown as she eyes the thugs. "Look, we got th' stuff, just let us hand it off ta ya and we can get outta here?"
"Look fellas," Zuhj says to the menacing aliens, still keeping his hands where they can be easily seen. "Someone who doesn't like your boss obviously heard about this deal goin' down and sabotaged our droid. We lucked out at the last second findin' that..." He nods his head towards the new hole in the floor. "And yankin' it out. Now, you think your boss would like it if you hemmed us up after we saved the thing he just spent a bunch o' time negotiatin' for? You really wanna try takin' that chance when you can look in the droid yourself while it's open right now and make sure it's clean?"
It's not enough to get them to lower their guns, but it's enough to get one of them to call in. After a conversation with the boss that seems to last forever - and involves a lot of shouting from the distant end - the guards hang up their guns and help you bring Benny into the hangar bay, where a /huge/ yacht of modern, custom make sits waiting for its old bastard of an owner to come collect it. Lots of big dudes with rifles in here, too. Good thing Zuhj's mouth worked out in the end.
The drugs are offloaded from a rapidly cooling Benny, who has decided that Tamrae is the closest thing to an android's angel that ever existed. Even after the drugs are off and taken aboard, and you're all given the signal to leave, Benny clings close to Tamrae the whole time the lot of you get back on board Voidwing and head back for Nar Shaddaa. She's made a friend, has Tamrae - and well done for that, because if that device had gone off well and truly, the spice wasn't the only thing that would have been lost.
"Well I had wanted you lot to see a job that went off without a hitch," says Adhar as he bandages his hands, apparently good with a medpac in a pinch. "Just goes to show that it never goes /totally/ without problems. But you lot were amazing. Thank you, truly. I'll see to it that you're rewarded when we get back."
And that was a job with Adhar. Sort of like 'take your crew to work' day, except with the constant threat of lethal violence. At least you got to dress up, right?