D4EE - Exchanging Pleasantries

[Hatoful GM]

Last night, Vala would have received a letter (electronically, of course).

Detective Roke,

I cordially invite you do dine with me at Deep Sea Delicacies tomorrow evening. I believe we have much to discuss.

If you do not have any appropriate attire, please visit the tailor in Amaralite Lane first, and give them my name.

Best regards,
Rogan Terrik

The ball, as various people who played or observed games with balls, was in her court...

--------------------------

If Vala does visit the tailor, she receives a set of slightly fancy clothing. They look slightly fancier, but are mechanically equivalent to Heavy Clothing or Performer's Clothing, player's choice.

[Vala Roke]

It was a kind offer of Rogan Terrik to offer Vala fancy attire, which was enough to make Vala debate it. Of course, there was the mental acrobatics involved that she was making someone with criminal ties potentially spend their money on her behalf and making less of it. Or maybe they were on the same side of the conflict considering that Mandalorians made themselves the bigger threat. Or maybe the fact that Rogan was helping the town and the mayor by supplying weapons, therefore an ally.

Plus, Vala didn't have anything too fancy for fancy dining.

Ultimately, she would make her choice and saunter in dressed in...one of her utilitarian jumpsuits that were good for keeping warm around here with a thrown-on short burgundy jacket for some small style points, walking with her hands in her pockets. "I'm here to see Rogan Terrik," she would announce herself casually.

[Hatoful GM]

The waiter served all sorts; he didn't comment on Vala's appearance. He lead her past the main part of the restaurant to the private areas, sliding aside a door.

Within was a familiar face.



"Ah, Detective Roke. How good of you to join me this evening." Rogan Terrik greeted her, his voice deep and his smile slightly cool." He eyed her outfit with disfavor. "I see you declined to accept my offer. A pity."

The private was fairly spacious, lit by a chandelier, bright, but casting fractal shadows beneath. Rogan sat at the table, an unfamiliar man behind him. The other man was lean, with rough features and calloused hands.

Rogan gestured to the seat across from him. "Please. Join me."

[Vala Roke]

"Pleased to meet you in person, Mister Terrik," she said as she flashed a momentary wry smile in his direction. "Well, I figured that you were probably like everyone else right now, pitching in on the local war effort. Taking from you didn't exactly seem all that fair considering that you were giving to the community. What's one fancy dress when there's someone out there who could use a medkit or an energy clip? But hey, I appreciate you being so generous."

Vala would casually stroll over to the appointed seat and dropped down to take a seat with her hand still in her pockets, perhaps looking like someone was being seated down for detention rather than an officer of the law. Seeing as her host was so fancy and criminal, she figured that it would only be right to have an opposing image wherever possible.

"I figured that we would be seeing each other soon eventually, especially when I started checking up on you. Word travels pretty quickly around here, I guess. I just didn't think you'd want to see me personally like this." She smirked with a shrug of her shoulder.

[Hatoful GM]

Sitting with what he was pretty sure was grace, poise, and roguish nobility (ehhh...), Rogan pressed his hand to his forehead as Vala slouched casually into the chair. She was absolutely ruining this for him.

"Of course." He said, smiling. "I always like to meet my associates. And in a way, are we not associates, Detective? Very much involved in each others' business." He chuckled.

A waiter came in carrying a bottle of wine. Rogan looked at it a few moments, and waved it away. Vala would catch the eye roll from the waiter as he left the room.

Rogan turned his attention back to Vala. "But I was thinking, perhaps we should be associates of a different sort. More agreeable associates. Or, barring that... disassociates. Where we each attend to our own business." He looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

[Vala Roke]

"Hah," Vala couldn't help but snicker at that thought. "I suppose we might be in a way, in more ways than one, even before we found ourselves in the middle of a Mandalorian crusade. I kind of figured that you'd have a way to make a clean escape if you wanted to, while I'm stuck in this world. That said, I guess it shouldn't be surprising that you found a way to make money even at a time like this."

She gave a momentary glance to the departing waiter with the wine. Well, may as well, something so fancy might have been wasted on her.

"Okay," she said on a skeptical note at first before straightening in her chair, humouring this proposal. "What's your angle over here?"

[Hatoful GM]

"Precisely." Rogan said, smirking. "I see we understand each other." He glanced at her outfit. "At least, somewhat."

A waiter brought in another bottle. Rogan considered it. Then he considered it some more. He smelled the cork. He took a sip. He gargled a tiny bit. Finally, he nodded. The waiter poured glasses for both him and Vala; once more, only she saw him rolling his eyes.

"It's simple." Rogan said. "Obroa-skai needs weapons. As it happens, I am in possession of a sizeable number of them. I make them available to Obroa-skai, and yes, my prices are high, but I should be allowed to make a living wage, no?"

He chuckled, sipping the white wine. "And then, once this unfortunate situation is over, we can begin our chase again. If you wish. Or perhaps not." He shrugged. "That's up to you."

[Vala Roke]

"I'm comfortable," she explained herself regarding her outfit, not thinking it was going to be the centre of attention. That said, she did realize that she did dress like this to make a statement so the attention was probably warranted. She could do without the eye-rolling from the waiter.

She gave another glance at her surroundings, not touching her glass quite yet. "Yeah, you're really struggling to keep the lights on and your ship fuelled around here. But hey, I'm not going to blame you if you want to splurge once in a while. Surely, I caught you only at a special time. But as your offer, that's more or less a given. I'm not going to miss the bigger picture around here and want you to stop doing what you do. The mayor needs your weapons, everyone here does. Not that I can do much to stop you when you're not on Corellia."

After brushing some hair from her forehead, she gave Rogan a direct business-like gaze. "That said, my issue is what you're trying to do here long-term. Also, mightily fortuitous for you to be selling weapons here when the Mandalorians landed. I thought you were only in the strip and ship business. Dealing in weapons is a new thing. You didn't just have these things handing around and you're looking to dump them here? This sounds like a new business venture."

[Hatoful GM]

"Ah, detective..." Rogan smirked, raising one finger. "Where I received the weapons is my business. So long as I provide what the planet needs, what does it matter where they came from? As for the long term, well, perhaps circumstances will have changed by then.

He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass, making it catch the chandelier light. "So. Let us agree to set these things aside until after this siege is over. No more talk of weapons, smuggling, kids, or anything else that is my business. In exchange, I will continue to be a good friend to both this planet and you. In fact, visit the tailor after this, even if we never have dinner again. What do I care!"

Rogan grinned at her, his teeth almost too white. "Do we have a deal?" He raised his glass.

[Vala Roke]

"Trading in weapons of war and skimming a few million credits worth of parts from the Corellian Engineering Corporation are leagues apart, Rogan," she brought up with an air of annoyance. Now that she had much room to be a naysayer in the present circumstance, but perhaps a reminder that she was still working for the law and not getting chummy. Weapons dealing was also a more serious offense.

Vala raise a brow at something, not looking amused in the slightest. "Wait, what's this about kids now?"

[Hatoful GM]

Rogan waved a hand. "Very well. If you insist, we can have that discussion after this situation is resolved." He didn't seem especially concerned.

When Vala got serious, so did the other two. Rogen paused a moment. The man hovering behind him narrowed his eyes. His stance shifted a little, one foot forward, angling towards her, a gunfighting stance.

Rogan spoke. "This terrible war, so many are orphaned by it. That is what I meant." He took a sip of wine. "Perhaps it is time for dinner. I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering for both of us." He reached over, pressing the button on the table provided by the restaurant.

[Vala Roke]

When Rogan's goons felt threatened, Vala casually pulled her hands from her coat pockets and placed them on the arms of the chair. She found it a bit amusing that was the move that set him off and she made no gesture of feeling the same as if she didn't even consider him a threat in the slightest. She had the intention of shooting up the place, she probably wouldn't have sat down in the first place.

"Oh great, I'm really famished right about now," she said in a dry remark. It seemed like she had yet to even touch her glass of wine. "I didn't know that you were running some sort of charity drive when it came to orphans to make a mention of them. Are you in the business of helping them find homes and the like?"

[Hatoful GM]

"It's something I'm looking into." Rogan said briefly. He looked away, frowning.

A few moments later, a waiter wheeled in a cart laden with covered trays. He began displaying them. The main dish, seared swordshark, and numerous side dishes, such as the Obrai-Skai oysters stuffed with forest peas, the seaweed salad, and more.

"Ah! Dinner." Rogan said, rubbing his hands together. "Well! Shall we turn our attention to the food, instead? It's much more pleasant grilled than I am." He chuckled.

[Vala Roke]

Vala scratched the back of her neck as she looked off in thought, trying to be coy about it. "Huh, fancy that. I've recently been involved in an orphan case myself. kind of wish that I was as enterprising and philanthropy...uhm-izing as you were. I don't think I could look as classy as you do in that suit."

She gave a few impressed nods at the offering, letting out an impressed whistle. "That does look really nice. Don't tell me that they also come with pearls too. You don't seem like you would skimp out on the garnish like that."

[Hatoful GM]

"Is that so?" Rogan said, apparently casually, glancing at his bodyguard. "Well, good luck." He fiddled with his utensils for a few moments before looking back at her, clearing his throat, then he smiled. "And if you'd ever like to try it, well, perhaps I can make an opening in my organization."

"I skimp on nothing!" Rogan said, looking smug. "Please, help yourself." He glanced again at the bodyguard, who looked back at him with narrowed eyes. After a moment, Rogan helped himself to a hefty cut of the swordshark.

[Vala Roke]

"Thanks but I'd say the business taking care of brats isn't very me, I've got to say. They're such a handful and annoying. Trust me, I've been one before to know the sort of trouble they could get into," she snorted at that thought. "Kind of makes me wonder what sort of people you have in your organization to handle that. You've never struck me as the parenting sort. It would bug me very much if they're mishandled, however."

Vala would help herself to one oyster, picking one up to shuck it like she was dining on a bar special rather than using any utensils. "Mm, you know how to eat well, I'll give you that."