"...and then I said to him: you drag that fat lard of a Hutt here if he has a problem with my methods!"<br/><br/>The table cracked up, complimenting the Cathar smuggler of his brave, straightforward words. Sitting in one of the seediest, most dangerous cantina in Coruscant where every hour or so a bar fight or a conflict of some sort would erupt, the table consisted of eight customers who worked mostly as smugglers or mercenaries. The place was so protective of its whereabouts and clientele that it carried no name and it was absolutely right in doing so. One glance aound the bar proved that every customer seemed to have that certain agressive, angry look about them, often coupled with hunched shoulders and suspicious stares thrown here and there.<br/><br/>Between a Chiss man and a Zeltron woman sat Meena, holding on to a hookah pipe that was hooked on a large water and herb tank that stood at the center of their table. The place was so dim and smoky that it was difficult to make out the faces of those who didn't sit at the same table with you, an aspect that was much appreciated by the mostly criminal clientele. Meena was drinking a large beer while listening the boasting of their Cathar friend who had recently fallen into the disfavor of the Hutts. As if that was anything to be proud about.<br/><br/>"I haven't seen you since they sent you in Kessel, Hayes." An Iktotchi man commented from the opposite side of the table, growing bored of the Cathar's voice. Meena looked over to him through the smoke she blew out and tilted her head. "Did you miss me?"<br/><br/>"Of course. Like the healthy miss being sick." He grinned, revealing a row of ugly teeth. Meena sneered and shook her head. "But tell me", he continued, "how was Kessel? And most importantly, how the hell did you get out?"<br/><br/>She took a long swig from her beer, considering her answer. How had Kessel been, indeed? Much of it was a blur actually. "Not much." She commented with a smirk. "The stories are true, I guess. Can't say I remember much. And they released me because I was too much for them to handle."<br/><br/>"Lies!" The Iktotchi bellowed with a large grin, slamming his fist against the table. "Let me guess, you bribed them, didn't you?"<br/><br/>"Keep guessing. I rather like the suspense." Meena chuckled and placed the pipe back between her lips. She then turned her attention to the Cathar who finally shut himself up to finish his beer. "I must say, you really are an idiot for angering the Hutts."<br/><br/>"Thank you!" The Cathar responded. "It is my specialty. But I'm not a complete fool. There are many I would never dare to anger in this Galaxy. That fat lard though... Ha."<br/><br/>"Aye! That I can agree with." The Zeltron woman announced, earning all male attention in an instant. "A good friend of mine who does not have the priviledge to be sitting in this wonderful, cosy place tonight with us recently got into a bid of a predicament with..." She leaned closer, nearly whispering. "...Collarroka!"<br/><br/>The table seemed to fall silent for a split second. Meena removed the pipe from her lips and smiled slightly. She had met the said trader two times during her life. The first time she had been only a teenager, working with a crew of a smugglers. Collarroka himself had contacted the crew, obviously, since his whereabouts were quite often a bit of a mystery. She had never seen his face and only remembered a figure draped in cloaks. She also recalled feeling his eyes on her, observing, analysing. Almost ten years later, Meena had crossed paths with him once more and had conned a man who had, rumour had it, been very close to Collarroka. Instead of punishing her for tricking his friend, he had commented on how Meena had growed up since their last meeting and that he 'took pride in her' and other younglings who integrated the criminal world of the Galaxy.<br/><br/>And then she had been sent to Kessel and hadn't met him or spoken to him since.<br/><br/>The subject was soon changed. Talking about hot shots of the criminal world was a bit dangerous in places like cantinas where anyone could eavesdrop on them. Those sitting around the same table often had secrets and other dirty laundry they preferred to keep to themselves, plotting against their own friends. Criminals didn't know friendship. Should the opportunity arise, anyone sitting at the table would most likely plant a blaster bolt into the back of her head without much remorse or consideration.<br/><br/>Several hours later, most of the table was absolutely drunk and the conversation had considerably lowered in terms of quality. Meena was feeling the buzz too as she stumbled over to the bar, leaning against it to clear her mind. One more drink, she promised herself for the tenth time that night. Just one more and she would return to her ship, one way or another. Right?<br/><br/>Right!<br/><br/>"Hey! Can I get some service please!?" She yelled over the other customers. "I want a whiskey. Hurry up, I'm thirsty!"