((If you can find it, I was listening to Emery/Lyddon "White Rapids" while writing this. Track 11 on the Boondock Saints soundtrack if you're looking))

As the boarding ramp retracted, Brad Olan turned around. The "Expedience" wasn't exactly very aptly named, but it did its job. One could only expect so much from publicly available transportation, even of the interstellar variety. He had to compliment them on their finer quarters. While the vessel wouldn't qualify as a yacht by any stretch of anyone's most spice-addled imagination, it had a respectable set of first class cabins. Unlike other transports whose idea of 'luxury' was cold water and a faux leather chair.

As the vessel kicked on its repulsors and pulled away from the arrivals platform, he turned and looked at the metal and transparisteel... thing that was Nar Shaddaa. The smuggler's moon was one of the most perfect examples of what happens when the Hutts gain absolute control over a planet. Ben Kenobi would later say that 'you would never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy' when talking about Mos Eisley on Tatooine. Ben Kenobi apparently hadn't been here. This was the kind of place where dressing as extravagantly as he was accustomed would get him, shot, mugged, or both. Fortunes were made, lives were lost, the place was a death trap for the naive and in many cases a spacer's first trip here was their last.

Nar Shaddaa wasn't all bad, though. In the grand capitalist nature of the Hutts that ran it, the place was a merchant's paradise. Anything and everything was available for a price. One street he walked down, he witnessed a rodian leading a fantastically attractive and barely clothed bothan female. If one was adept in Huttese, the trade language of the moon, (which Brad was fluent) it was plain to see that if one was interested in having some 'pleasurable company' for a time, he was making a quite reasonable offer. Almost too reasonable. The bothan was probably a professional thief or, even worse, an assassin. Not a bad setup they had going, but not the best. The Rodian handed him a holocard with his business information on it and promised him the time of his life. Brad thanked him and declined politely before pocketing the card. He would add it to his collection.

After about an hour of making his way around, he stopped in front of his destination. Lucky Shots, a casino quite firmly under the influence of the the Hutts. The Hutts had a sort of standing arrangement. He would cut them in on a portion of his winnings and they wouldn't toss him into one of the massive duracrete canyons that made up Nar Shadda's structure, never to be seen again. It was simple profit. Money paid directly later never showed up in records, meaning they never had to account for it to the authorities and had plenty of reason to work their slaves... er.... employees harder. Increasing profit margins and all.

The next few hours were a blur. In a galaxy far, far away, a long time in the future, there would a holovid with this quote in it: "Why do you think the same five guys make it to the final table of the World Series of Poker EVERY YEAR? What, are they the luckiest guys in Las Vegas?" While Brad would never know where 'Las Vegas' was, he would definitely understand the sentiment. There was a reason that every time he went into one of these places in the past few years that he came out ahead. Sometimes by a little, sometimes by a lot. This time would be no different. This was like a 9 to 5 job for him now. It was how he made his way.

Fourteen hours later, he had won and lost more than many ever saw in a year. The rollercoaster that was the working of a professional gambler, with its steadily increasing return had run its course. The sun was coming up and it was time to close down for the night. Ok, so it wasn't the sun that inspired him. It was the Cyber'd out human in the suit coming up behind him and 'strongly suggesting' one of their luxury suites for the evening. That's house-speak for "you're taking all our money, stop it". Made sense, he had come in with 1,500 credits. Not enough to gain any serious high roller attention, but at the same time enough to make the trip worth his while. And this trip had been very much worth it.

As he cashed out, he found that he had a call waiting for him at the teller. Brad sighed and took it. Apparently Burda was more than a little pleased at his success. So pleased, in fact, that he was going to grant permission to gift a full 33% of the winnings to celebrate the victory. This was as opposed to the normal, less sizable but no less considerable percentage that was normally agreed on. Brad of course humbly thanked the Hutt for this courtesy and proceeded to make arrangements.

He had the funds transferred to his accounts(yes, accounts plural) and made his way off the floor to his suite. Most people would have gone ballistic over a 13% increase in the required percentage, but not Brad. Not in this business. 13% lost was better than 100% lost. You did not screw with the Hutts on the Hutt's Moon. That was simply a given. Besides, 67% of the amount he had won was still more than enough. As he got to his room, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a holocard. Perhaps he would see what some of the less "discounted" services would run him. It was indeed time to celebrate.

**Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep**

I don’t want to wake up. You can’t make me.

**Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep**

Ok, maybe you can.

**Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep** **Beep**

Brad Olan shifted over a bit and sat up, reaching over towards the nightstand where he had set his comlink. Placing it in his ear, he answered with a very groggy “hEllO?” As the person on the other end spoke to him, he nodded. “Yes, I know. I was kinda curious why they would send me home after that. Not like I made twenty thousand credits in the night. Right. Right. Ok. Nice doing business with you.” As the communication ended, he flicked onto standby and tossed it across the room, onto a not so neat little pile of his stuff.

Laying back down, the green-skinned lovely that was sleeping so peacefully next to him shifted again, returning to using him as her pillow. It was only fair. Being Twi’lek, she had been very tolerant of his using her head-tails as pillows of his own. So long as he was very gentle with them. He ran a hand up and down her side while he thought of the day’s events(even though technically "day" was a misnomer since it was always dark here) Apparently Burda, his Hutt sponsor had spoken to the proprietor of Lucky Shots and explained that the amount that he had left with wasn’t all that sizable at all in comparison to some of the high rollers, or even the mid-range gamblers. It hadn’t taken much to convince them to let Brad come back and put on another show for the other marks.

Brad looked over to his right and what he saw confused him for a moment. Yet another humanoid female, this one had a dark red skin tone, and more importantly, horns, A togruta. This was disturbing. Not because togrutas aren’t attractive or anything, she was beautiful, but because togrutas have razor sharp teeth and are known carnivores. Brad checked to make sure he wasn’t missing any important pieces. He wasn’t. He was pretty sure he would have known if he was, but it never hurt to check.

Anyway, where was he? Oh yes. It was always good to put on a nice little show for the tourists, even in Nar Shaddaa. Not everyone who frequented a casino was a professional. If they were, the casino wouldn’t be making any money. Instead, they relied on the few actual pros that came in there to put on a nice little show of winning and much tenacity in the face of losing to inspire the ‘casuals’ to spend more of their money. ‘After all,’ the desired mentality goes, ‘those people are winning, soon it will be my turn’.

Brad stood up, every muscle in his body twitching as if it he had just fought a rancor. He walked over to one of the tables and picked up a little slip of plastic. Apparently the Rodian had left a receipt. He looked around for a few moments. Something was missing. He walked around, taking a mental inventory of what was in the room. Nope, not in here… Ah well, no worries. He made his way towards the refresher and opened the door, a wall of steam greeting him as he opened the door. Just inside, in the midst an apparently very hot shower was a human woman. She looked over at him, tossed him an award-winning smile and a ‘hi!’ He nodded. Ok, everyone was accounted for. He had time for a shower before he went to grind out more time on the tables. He looked over the shower’s current occupant. Yes. He definitely had time.

A wise man once said: "Never demonstrate your favorite card trick in the middle of a casino". That man probably died in obscurity very wealthy, having dodged many an angry bouncing. Given his reception at the door, one would think that the he men and women at the front desk doubted his awareness of this great law as they made him remove his jacket. He was fortunate to have been wearing a short-sleeved shirt out this time around otherwise he wasn't sure if they would have let him play. He imagined that it was not some desire to see his less than exceptional physique that drove them to do this. They were looking for cards, transmitters, something. They would be disappointed. It did not matter to him either way whether he had sleeves or not. He did not cheat. He was just good. A little bit lucky, but good for the most part.

As he sat down at the table, a different table this time, he glanced around at the individuals seated nearby. One of which, a youthful human that just screamed tourist. His eyes didn't fall on the human for very long as they were soon drawn away by the lovely bothan standing beside him. The same one, in fact, that he had met the less than twenty four hours previous. She smiled at him, her nostrils flaring. Apparently she could still smell the women on him. Never underestimate an alien's sense of smell. He nodded at her, and glanced at her human mark, who was oblivious to the whole exchange. He would leave him some money. Enough to make sure his date had enough to make it worth her time.

In the next few hours, he had dumped a few small pots on the tourist, causing his eyes to light up with ecstatic glee. He was a winner! He would go home and tell of his fantastic adventure to Nar Shaddaa where he won a small(emphasis on small) fortune at their casinos. Brad just looked at him and shook his head. His bothan compatriot suggested that they leave soon. The chump quickly agreed, gathered his chips and left, marching quickly ahead of his escort. The bothan turned her head towards him and blew him a kiss. She knew the score, just as well as he did. He winked back and turned towards the empty seat. It was quickly filled by a very well-dressed Selonian, his protocol droid, and a very bored looking Trandoshan(most likely a merc bodyguard hired so that this guy could "brave the savage land" or something) at his side. Brad was less interested in the Selonian or his entourage (had it been a barabel or a wookiee he might have had a bit more concerned) and more interested in the literal stack of chips he brought to the table. This was going to be fun.

Several hours later, he left the table, finally. The Selonian had been done in the first two hours. He came proud and regal and left sobbing and broken. The Trandoshan just walked away. Apparently the fool had been paying the bodyguard by the hour and now couldn't afford any more time. Never bet your bodyguard's payday. Ever. Ever ever ever ever ever. He didn't even have a bodyguard and he knew that. Oh well.

Tonight hadn't been as good as last night, but it did the trick. He had made a decent profit and probably could have done much better had he not dumped a few pots on the human and had he stayed longer. However, this was enough for now. He was still tired from earlier and might have lost his edge had he been grinding more out. And, as a plus, he left this time without being told. He collected his winnings, dispersed them accordingly, gathered his jacket and made his way out into the night. For some reason he felt like a walk. Walking around Nar Shaddaa for any particular amount of time was akin to suicide. So, he went across the walkway instead. Much shorter, much safer. And if he wanted to, he could always go back for more.

The dark figure strode confidently through the alley way. A mask covered half his face, like a ninja on the prowl his large hood obscured his malice filled eyes.

"Find the girl!" He shouted as he pointed his finger out down the alley way. "Find her damn you!"

The two weequays that accompanied the masked figure bolted off down the alley way kicking refuse and shadows as they went.

Sweat beaded on her perfect features as she ran as fast as she could. Her breathing was heavy as she darted around a corner plastering her back to the wall. Chest heaving and muscles aching the platinum blond woman took the opportunity look around the duracrete building and back into the dark ally. She wore the face of worry below a brow of fear. Slowly she pressed her glasses back to their place upon her nose.

"There! She's there!" One shouted in basic, pointing to the building she was peeking from.

"Damnit!" Without hesitation she was off again, darting through the a main avenue past several pedestrians and advertisement droids. All that was gone when she zipped through an ally and came out on the next block.

The lights were brighter here but the citizenry was certainly more sparse. Her feet ached and she would have undoubtedly discarded her heels by now had she been in any condition to think clearly.

Desperation gripped her and she sprinted across the open ally way, exposing her location to her three pursuers. The loud 'clack' of her foot ware warned everyone close by that she was either behind them or about to come dangerously close to knocking them down.

"A human, oh thank the stars!" She grabbed a man's arm, almost at random, and used him to slow herself down. Her chest, glistening in sweat threatened to slip out the dangerously low "V" cut outfit. "Look, you gotta help me, please..."

The blaster bolts that began streaking past Brad and the woman on his arm told him that his luck suddenly took a turn for the worse.

The gleaming woman ran over to him as he walked across the short, safe, distance to the other side of the walkway. "A human, oh thank the stars!" He looked the lady over pretty quick. She was dressed like either a high end tourist or a supermodel, either way she was VERY out of place here. Still, the *clack* *clack* *clack* that had preceded her arrival, the sweat all over her body, and the look of simple fear and gratitude on her told him things were about to get really bad really fast.

"Look, you gotta help me, please..."

Boy do I hate being right all the time.

As blaster bolt started streaking past forced him to think quickly. Something he had grown used to. The thinking, not the blaster bolts. "Hey, what the- Come on!"

He grabbed her arm and took off down a side alley. As he ran he couldn't help but feel the stumbling and hear the *clack* *clack* *clack* of the woman behind him. She's wearing blasted heels!!!!! He ducked around a corner, wagering that they had about four seconds before the two weequays and what he could only assume was a bounty hunter of some kind came after them. You're running from a bounty hunter. In Nar F'King Shaddaa. What are you, retarded? He dropped to a crouch, pulling the frightened lady down with him. He looked at her and for just a moment forgot where he was. Looks that way, doesn't it?

He glanced down the alley, pulling a light blaster from his jacket. Looking back at her, he said something that would have occurred to her already, had she not been terrified. "Take off your shoes"

Stunned the silvery maned young woman was pulled off in tow by the rather roguishly handsome human. Around a corner they spun just a red blaster bolt pocked the wall a bit too close to Brad's head than he'd have preferred.

"Ow, hey!" The duracrete ground gave little padding to her already sore body, her rescuer noticed the shimmering silver blaster strapped to her thigh as her skirt was tossed up slightly by her impact.

"Take off your shoes."

"Kay, kay... jeez." She began slipping out of her shoes as quickly as possible. "Thank you by the way..."

Several more blaster bolts scarred up the walls... her pursuers were close.

They're shooting at me. No, they're shooting at her. I'm with her. They're shooting at me. What are the odds? Screw the odds, this is karma.

Brad glanced down the alley just after a number of red bolts of death streaked past. Two of them, plus the bounty hunter. Still hadn't shot anything, that one.

"Thank you by the way..."

Brad pulled his head back just as another few bolts shot past.

"Hey no problems, I'm always up for a little chase through the streets. Good for the heart."

Brad checked the power pack on his blaster. Not great, but unless something went horribly wrong, he should have enough to take these guys on.

I'm fighting bounty hunters. For a stranger. What the hell is wrong with me?! Brad leaned out briefly and fired at the masked individual. What the hell am I thinking?

"So, is this how you normally go about meeting new guys?"

This is what Brad did. He talked. Making pleasant conversation for some strange reason kept the fact that he was getting shot at from driving him loony. Well, loonier. Still in the back of his mind he couldn't help but shake some sense of noble rightness of what he was doing. Damsel in distress, and all that. A very attractive damsel in distress on top of that. Probably somebody's girl. Details.

The sound that followed his shot wasn't what he had expected. He had expected mild irritation and maybe a little outrage. He heard a sizzle, an "Aaah!!" and a thud. Brad looked around the corner to see the masked man on the ground holding a wound. He had hit him square in the chest. That wasn't expected at all. The weequays were more than a little perturbed by this change of events and their confusion effectively rendered them stunned for the few seconds that Brad needed to think. You just shot a bounty hunter. Talk about a lucky shot, he just dropped, too. Better deal with his buddies before they get their courage back.

The next few seconds were almost too easy. The weequays still hadn't recovered their sense of direction by the time he was firing at them again. Strike the sheperd, and the sheep will scatter. That is, unless those sheep are being shot at, in which case the sheep will fall.

Brad picked up the lady's shoes and handed them back to her before walking over to the bodies and starting to sift through their things. There had to be something on them that would explain this. Since the lady didn't exactly seem to be coherent at the moment, this was his next best thing. Most people would be over shaking the lady going "are you ok? Can you speak? What's your name?" Not him. He could see just by looking that this was one of those times that it would be best just to leave her be, at least for now. Besides, his asking her name would cause her to ask his name. Something he wasn't particularly interested in giving, unless there was something in it for him. No, he had just shot and killed a bounty hunter and two little cronies. He would be the one asking the questions. After getting all their stuff together, he made his way over to the shellshocked woman and waited for her to come around.

The blaster fire on all sides of her brought a b-movie horror shriek to her once or twice as she threw her arms up covering her face like it would make any difference if a bolt hit her.

As Brad approached she still sat on the ground looking flustered. She pressed her glasses higher up to rest on the bridge of her nose. She clutched a rather large book tight against her chest and looked up at Brad a slight smile quivered to the corner of her mouth. "Um, th-thank you."

She stood up, her shoes in one hand and the book in the other. "I really appreciate the help.".

The screams were straight up irritating but he kept in mind that it was his idea to shoot back. By the time the blasters and screaming stopped, he was pretty sure he was part deaf.

"I really appreciate the help.".

"Any time, any time. Like I said, good for the heart. So is this a standard 'meet new people' method? If it is I could offer some pointers"

The sweat-soaked young woman blushed slightly at Brad's attempts at humor. Good with a blaster, and mildly charming. Not bad.

She did her best to recompose herself, straightening her skirt and making sure she was 'falling out' anywhere. Of all the nights to get shot at and have to run a marathon it was Evana's luck that is would be the one where she was wearing less than a cantina dancer.

"No, no," she giggles slightly. "Usually I lock myself away in a tower guarded by a rancor and wait. You were let off easy."

Still blushing and now several inches shorter Evana gave her rescuer the once-over. "I'm Evana, by the way, and you are?"

"No, no," she giggles slightly. "Usually I lock myself away in a tower guarded by a rancor and wait. You were let off easy."

"Oh a rancor. Well I can see why you would want to try something new. The whole flesh eating monster thing tends to be a little off putting."

Still blushing and now several inches shorter Evana gave her rescuer the once-over. "I'm Evana, by the way, and you are?"

"Eh, nobody important. Here, you're going to get really cold as soon as the adrenaline stops pumping" Brad took his jacket off and draped it around her. "So who were those guys? Bounty hunters?"

"Thank you," she said softly as he placed the jacket around her. "Something like that, they've been hounding me since Abrion Sector."

She moved her shoulders a bit so the jacket fell more comfortably over her shoulders. The adrenaline was wearing off, and just as Brad predicted a chill set through her. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to walk with me back to my room, would you?"

"Don't suppose you'd be willing to walk with me back to my room, would you?"

Brad reached out and took her free hand.

"I would be happy to. And on our way back you can tell me what a beautiful young woman like yourself did to get someone to chase you this far. A heartbreaker, perhaps?"

Evana blushed. "No, I wish. I'm," she sighed and shrugged. "Just a girl who's too nosy for her own good."

She led Brad through the streets for several minutes. The two walked on, slightly paranoid as the speeders and starships soared overhead in a congested gridlock of aerial traffic.


"About three months ago I was on Bothawui helping the Bothans and Republic soldiers there after a Sith bombardment." She shuddered a bit as the memory returned to her mind. "I-it was terrible."

The attractive woman hugged her book and her heels high to her chest, obscuring the view much to Brad's dismay. She wiped a bit of moisture from her eyes and continued. "Anyway, one of the soldiers there, he gave me something, something he said had to get back to the Republic at all costs."

It wasn't long before they found themselves in the residential district of the Corellian Sector. "Since he gave it to me, I've been hounded by one assault after another. I've slipped from world to world, place to place hoping to shake them but they're everywhere."

They stood outside Evana's rented room a few moments later. "Frankly," she remembered that she didn't know her rescuer's name. "I'm scared, I'm out of money and out of hope. I don't even know why I bothered running tonight." Her tears flowed a bit more freely this time as the pressures of her own situation seemed to suddenly come to the surface and she couldn't keep it in any longer.

Ah crap, she's crying. Why do they always have to start crying? Well to be fair, given the circumstances, he really couldn't say he was surprised. Here was this lady, obviously far out of her element, being shot at by people after her for something that wasn't even hers. Don't get involved Part of him wondered what it was that she had that was worth all the trouble. The other part wondered how she would like to get out of that dress.

As she started to let go, his voice was very soft and soothing as he reached out and pulled her into a soft hug, rubbing her back gently as he did so.

"Hey, hey now, don't say that. You'll be fine, trust me. Nobody's going to hurt you."
I can't back that up.

"You're safe now"
Relatively.

"It'll be ok, I've got you now."
I'd like to thank the Academy.

The embrace he offered was hardly rejected. She had been on the run for too long and feeling another close to her was a certainly a welcomed sensation. She reveled in it scared that his touch be gone far to quickly and it would be far too long before she would feel it again.

For several moment she held him there in the hallway before leaning away from him, still not letting go. "You've done so much for me tonight, and I don't even know your name. Thank you."

Her hands slid down his chest as she stepped away. He could tell she was genuine and sincere as she spoke to the Mysterious Stranger. A girlish smile curved across her perfect features as she handed him his jacket and stiffled what looked like a bit of laughter.

"Thanks again." She said as she offered up the coat that now carried a heavy feminine scent.

"You're welcome, Miss Evana" He took the jacket from her and started to put it back on, a look of amusement on his face. "What are you thinking about that makes you giggle like that?"

The hall filled with the sound of servos opening the door to Evana's room behind her. Within Brad could see she traveled lightly, it was practically empty save for a purple R4 unit that suddenly seemed 'awake' and took notice of the two outside with a few beeps and boops in binary, a neatly made bed and a dim reading light illuminating what it could.

Her smile was the brightest thing this hall had seen in years. "It's nothing, just laughing at my luck. I finally meet a guy who seems halfway decent and it's while I'm being shot at by the Force only knows what and to top it off he won't even tell me his name."

She leaned into him and raised up, kissing the Mysterious Stranger gently on his lips. It was a sincere kiss of gratitude for the man who most likely saved her life tonight, well earned on his part and well deserved.

She stepped back, letting the moment of the kiss linger in the air, wondering if he was ever going to get the silly look of surprise off his face. "See ya roun' 'Stranger'."

The door slid shut between them with a 'shhh' sound and Brad was left gazing at the blast door of her room.

As the door slid shut, Brad's brain was busy trying to make sure it had all the facts straight... Here was this lady with a body to kill for, literally, who had just run into him out of nowhere, literally, and now seemed to have taken a bit of a liking to him. That last part was fairly obvious. He had two choices now. Well, three but he was pretty sure kicking the door in and having his way with her would not go over too well. He had already used the majority of his luck up tonight, he wasn't going to tempt fate anymore at the moment. The first option was to walk away and forget. The second, which had much more delightful possibilities, was to play the hand he had been dealt.

When he got back to his room, he opened a voice communication channels and contacted one of his associates. One didn't survive long without a network of some kind.
"Hey, it's me. If you could do me a favor, I would like you to find out about someone. Evana something or other. Here's the address." He rattled off the address of her very sparsely decorated living space. "Thanks. And no, before you ask, this isn't one of those 'she's the one' type requests. Remember the redhead from Toprawa a few cycles back? Yeah, same deal. Anyways, let me know what you can find out, ok? Later"

Brad went over to his bed and lay down. After tonight he needed some rest. This had been a long 24 hours. And tomorrow he got to get up and do it all over again. And if he ran into another beautiful lady then too, he certainly wouldn't complain.

Brad walked out of Lucky Shots more than a little irritated. He had struck out and hard. The fact that he was as good as he was is the only thing that had kept him from being completely destitute walking out. Instead he only walked out with about 90% of what he had walked in with, as opposed to the standard 200 – 300% that he normally did. Ah well, just went to show that everyone had a string of crap luck every once in a while. Even him. He would do better next time.

He hadn’t heard from Burda, in a while. At least 72 hours. Something was up, he knew it. Just didn’t know what. He would find out soon enough, though. He always did. That said, all in all it had been a pretty sorry “day” and it wasn’t looking like it was going to pick up any time soon. Making his way into his room, he took his boots off and lay on the bed for a moment, simply drifting in his own mind. What’s next?

**** Beep **** Beep **** Beep **** Beep **** Beep **** Beep ****

Dammit.

**** Beep **** Beep **** Beep **** Beep **** Beep **** Beep ****

Brad clicked on his comlink and didn’t say anything. His allies had grown accustomed to this, and Burda actually liked it. The Hutt actually believed that he was doing it so as not to speak until spoken to. Not the case at all, but if that’s what it wanted to think, more power to it.

“Hey, I got the information on that girl you requested”
“Girl? What girl?”
“The beauty that you saved from the bounty hunters, you damned hooker”
“Oh, right! That one… what’s up, what do you have?”
“I’m uploading her file to you now”
“Thanks again”
“Don’t mention it. Seriously.”
“Ok”
“And I’m going to sleep”
“Night”

Four hours and a short nap later, Brad was reading the file that his contact had sent him. Lady's name was Evana Nivix. He knew that name from his past. Not that he had known her before, he just new the name. The Nivix family was from Coruscant. A family of engineers, businessmen, and generally fabulously wealthy individuals. A family of fabulously wealthy individuals that it would be wonderful to have in your debt. If only she wasn't the black sheep of the family. Oh well, she was still good looking.

Maybe sometime down the road once this ball got rolling and couldn't be everywhere at once she would be willing (and able) to serve as a very talented mouthpiece for him. No Innuendo there at all. It would happen in time.

Speaking of pretty little dolls, word was that Ms. Tilly was bringing in a new assortment of "merchandise" for the viewing and purchasing pleasure of the Pirate Moon's inhabitants in the next few days. He hadn't ever seen fit to actually purchase anything (or anyone) from her menagerie but that didn't ever stop him from going. He had a pretty good idea of what went for how much after as much time as he had spent 'window shopping'. He set a mental appointment in his future to drop by the block when she arrived.

~End... For Now~