<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/0Sj9Y4C.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Melva<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Spit Shine Cantina<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Everyone present<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>Wearing armored clothing, blaster worn on hip<br/><strong>Wounds: </strong>16/16<strong>Strain: </strong>12/12<br/><strong>Status: Normal</strong><br/><br/>Melva stepped into The Spit Shine Cantina like most mercenaries do: head held high, dressed in her armor, blaster pistol on her hip, and not particularly impressed by anything.  If you've seen one cantina, you've seen them all, though the decor may always be a surprise.   She fluffed her short brown hair and took a cleansing breath.  The Spit Shine definitely could be worse.<br/><br/>She thought back to the mercenaries in the other cantina, in the better part of town, who said, "a contract hiring at the Spit Shine?  It's not worth the cred to deal with the stink, let alone to get spaced."<br/><br/>Maybe it wasn't worth it, she thought to herself as her 'fellows' commiserated before pounding back shots and telling tall tales.  'Some risk, big reward' usually turned out to be 'bigger risk than expected, smaller reward than expected'.<br/><br/>That said, in her years honing her skills and exploring the galaxy, she had probably seen worse than one contract could pose.  So she did some research through the usual channels.  It looked legitimate, if a bit slapdash.  If they weren't broadcasting details, they either weren't sure there was going to be a profit or...it would be dangerous beyond measure.<br/><br/>The latter possibility was why the lithe human lady sought out the two meter tall Trandoshan at the bar and spoke to him, "did you post the request for crew?"