"111th floor," Grev muttered to the computer as he entered the shifter. He had only been on the Astoria for a few days now, but its novelty was already beginning to wear thin. The place advertised itself as a luxury station, but in reality it was just riddled with depression and greed. There was a floor dedicated solely to gambling, and just 51 levels below that you could find yourself in an alcoholic heaven; which, coincidentally, was where Grev happened to be heading.

He wasn't interested in drinking, though. He wasn't interested in socializing either. The only reason he would even be caught dead in this 'paradise' was that business had lured him here. Business that might potentially be very profitable to him. Money was his drug, and coincidentally drugs would be the market for his income. It was a nice little cycle. His eyes roamed the confinement of the booth as the doors shut behind him. The computer did its trick, and within seconds the doors would spring open again.

The bar district; fully oufitted with a nice atmosphere of infidelity, half-truths, and tacky club music. He grinned to himself, taking in a nice whiff of the fresh air that reeked with a nice mixture of big-ticket cologne, exotic spices, and booze. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he slowly began down the stretch that housed the many establishments, each decorated with their own synthetic facade of neon lights and 'unique' patrons. There were usually only three types who frequented such places: the suits looking to drink away the fact that they led a plebeian existence, the coquettes looking to suck their rent money out of the suits, and people like Grev.

People like that were the smugglers, peddlers, mercenaries, and yard birds looking for work. Places like this were the offices for people like that. It was a bulletin board for every two-bit scoundrel that couldn't make it in a legit profession, or just didn't have the patience for one. Grev just happened to be job searching, and luckily for him he had lined up an interview. Unfortunately he forgot his suit and tie.

He retrieved a wrinkled piece of notebook paper from his pocket and read the scribbled handwriting: "The Red Escape - 20:00". Looking down at his watch the time was 20:00, and sure enough a few yards away a vivid glow read "The Red Escape" on a sign in bright, crimson letters. He neared the door, carefully perusing the club goers gathered outside. It was another chic lounge, attempting to bring in the young 'swank' crowd, which for no better word could only be described as pretentious.

It wasn't exactly his idea of a night out, but he wasn't here for entertainment.

After passing the outside screening he slipped inside, his ears immediately adjusting to the loud thumping of a heavy bassline, drums, and keyboard melodies. He waded through the seemingly overcrowded mass of people, finding an empty booth that lined the decorated wall. The room was dark, only lit by a dim glow of rubescent light. An alien girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen in standard human years, approached the table.

"Need somethin' to drink?" she smiled.

"I'm good." He opted to wait for his associate; his late associate.

The server scurried off and Grev pulled a pack of cigarettes from the inner-pocket of his coat. He didn't consider himself a heavy smoker, but if he was going to spend a considerable amount of time in this place he needed a slight buzz. His head tilted back against the booth, his eyes staring directly at the ceiling.

He'd now wait to be found.

"Hasn't anybody ever told you that smoking's bad for your health ?"

Long, ebony strands of hair cascaded over the top edge of the partition separating Grev's booth from the one directly behind his and spilled onto either side of his face as a hand swiftly reached down, snatching the cigarette away from between his fingers before it could be returned to his mouth. "You should be ashamed of yourself," the girl continued, still leaning precariously across the thin frame of the booth while waggling the supposedly lethal device above his eyes, a look of sheer and utter disappointment -- tinged with motherly concern -- plastered across her features. One eyebrow quirked upwards ever so slightly as her attention then shifted away rapidly from the man and onto the cigarette itself, and, without so much as a second thought, she slipped the unlighted end between her lips and pulled a slow, abnormally long drag from it … then proceeded to choke.

"Bleargh, this stuff tastes disgusting !" she spat out, wrinkling her nose and aiming the now finished stick forcefully at Grev's face (well, using whatever small amount of strength as is possible to exert onto such an object, anyway). Her face contorted into an angry scowl, much akin to the kind of expression a young child might make right before initiating a raging temper tantrum, and the corners of her lips tightened to form a pout. "You really must be poverty-stricken if you have to resort to that kind of crap nowadays," she muttered, the sense of irritation in her voice far from subtle. Pulling herself back onto her side of the panel, she grasped onto the rim with both hands and, with a single quick motion, swung her legs across the top to land snugly next to Grev on the red leather seats.

Brushing aside her hair, the brunette turned to glare fixatedly at the man responsible for causing her so much misery (the horrible aftertaste still lingered inside her mouth), her hazel irises appearing to flicker darkly with intense hatred -- and then, in the very next second, they lit up gleefully, as Taja let out a joyous squeal and flung herself on top of the now rather disgruntled man. "I missed you !" she exclaimed cheerfully, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a painfully awkward hug.

"Hasn't anybody ever told you that smoking's bad for your health ?"

That same, familiar voice brushed against Grev's ears, but before he could even respond his cancerous delight was plucked out of his own hands and fed into the mouth of his new company. He didn't make much effort to react, but simply kept his head arched back, staring up at Taja with an unresponsive smirk carved on his face.

"I could probably think of a few things that are worse for my health," he spoke dryly, "Could you be one of them?"

His quips were cut short by her distasteful heaving, as she flung the butt into his face before loudly expressing her vexation. He really couldn't help but to be amused. As she continued to berate him he could only fight the temptation to light up another cigarette, but instead he simply stared at her, his eyes occasionally drifting off to spy the odd customer here or there. She finally finished, but not before plopping her feet adjacent to his lap.

"You kind of have this charm to you when you're angry," he spoke up again, but not before pulling another cigarette from the pack, "I'm sure you don't mind --"

Before he could finish she'd dropped down into the seat and vised him with a tight hug, as if they hadn't attracted enough attention already. His cigarette dropped lazily out of his mouth as she shrieked in his ear.

"I missed you !"

"I'm sure," he picked up the cigarette, hesitating to light it just yet.

"Mmph," she murmured lowly, her words muffled and incoherent as she pressed her face closely against Grev's upper arm; his only reaction, however, was to retrieve yet another cigarette, done partly in order to just irk her further. Once it had become glaringly evident that the man wasn't going to respond in any other manner, Taja lifted her chin and propped it against his shoulder, then lifted her head to stare up at him with large eyes -- and still, nothing. His gaze was always directed elsewhere as he casually surveyed their surroundings, pausing now and then to scrutinize any particularly 'colorful' characters entering the establishment but not once turning to focus on Taja instead.

She pulled herself away, her features sullen in contrast with Grev's look of utter impassiveness. "I didn't realize it would be such a pain for you to catch up with your own wife every once in a while. Especially now, after it's been so long," she muttered, her voice dry and laced thickly with resentment. Taja was quite visibly offended by his callous approach and the indifferent way in which he was treating her now, and so she slowly moved away, unwinding her fingers from behind his neck and drawing her knees together to sit lopsidedly with her feet raised up onto the seat. The corners of her mouth tugged downwards miserably and, as she spoke now, her words were hushed and barely above the volume of a whisper. "So what have you been up to all this time ?" she asked, defeated. "Been working much ?"

The sadness however, like her indignation, was quick to dissipate; before her sentence had even finished, Taja's eyes had already begun scanning over the empty surface of the table. Disappointed at Grev's lack of initiative, she again knotted her face into a scowl and mumbled, "I'm thirsty. Go buy me stuff."

Jeseth took down his eighth shot. Things were starting to get a little fun, now. Yeah, this is the feeling... Alcohol flowed through his veins, and he forgot everything - except that he was called here by a woman. He couldn't remember her name anymore... in fact, upon considering it further, he was no longer sure if it was a woman. I've really gotta kick this habit, Jeseth thought to himself as he picked up another drink, someday. He hadn't done any serious work in a long time - he had spent the last seven years on Kessel... the best part was coming out, and find that he had no ship and no money.

The man beside him stood up, his elbow swinging around and knocking the drink out of Jeseth's hand and all over his lap. What the... Jeseth looked down, then back up. The guy had walked off, and Jeseth couldn't remember what he looked like. Sighing, he rested his head in his hands. His jaw length hair dropped down and covered his face. The room was spinning. What the hell do they put in these drinks, anyway?

"I think you're done..." someone said from behind the bar.

"No, I'll tell you when I'm done. Now get me another drink." The room was getting intolerably bright, and so loud... What the hell did he come here for?

"Is this the part where I'm overwrought with guilt?" He discarded the cigarette, his grin slowly wilting away as she pulled back and shrivelled into the booth. Reclining his head back, Grev rested his neck on the cushioned red leather of the booth once again, exhaling in an overstated sigh before lowering his head to Taja's level. As hollow as his stare seemed, there was a bit of sincerity that accompanied it.

"Besides, we can do plenty 'catching up' later." He smirked coyly, pushing himself up from the booth and branching his arms out to stretch. Peak hours must have creeped up, because the place seemed twice as full as it had been when he had entered. Before he could utter another sentence Taja's mood swing caught him off-guard.

"I'm thirsty. Go buy me stuff."

"Just like I remembered you." Grev muttered before trudging off towards the bar. He wasn't exactly sure what she wanted, but something colorful would suffice. His eyes glanced towards Cloak for a minute, only to pass him off as a drunk before moving to the bartender.

"Uh... something bright. Something strong. Anything."

Eve enjoyed the fact that there were too many floors to this station, yet none of the floors were remotely alike. It was like a whole caged world. She quickly glanced at her black nails before sighing, running her hand through her dirty blonde hair. She had already felt Taja and Grev's presence, but was more eager to meet their future colleague: Jeseth Cloak. Eve wore a black pair of leather pants, with matching knee-high stilletos, with a blood red laced top. She covered herself in a black coat with a white fur collar. The weather was getting cold.

When she stepped into the place, she immediately saw that Grev was away at the bar and Taja was sitting by herself. She must've ordered him around again, Eve thought. With a smirk, she snuck around behind Grev's back and met up with her associate. A grin grew on her glossy lips as she approached Taja, who was sitting, and leaned down to press her lips against the black-haired woman's for a soft lovely kiss. "Hey, you." She then whispered as she pulled back. "I'll be right back." She quickly added, winking, before heading towards where Grev and Jeseth were.

"Hey Grev." She greeted him normally, before lowering her voice. "Can I have a cigarette ?" She knew Taja wouldn't be very prompt to kiss her again after this and that made her laugh inside. From the corner of her honey-colored eyes, she watched Jeseth make a mess of himself. She began to question her instincts, as to whether or not, he would really be valuable to Severe.

Taja had been perfectly aware of the fact that her accomplice was within the immediate vicinity of the bar and was approaching fast -- and this provided her with all the more reason to send her beloved husband off in a hurry to do her bidding. As Eve slipped behind Grev, unnoticed, the Sith grinned broadly and tilted her face upwards to meet and return the kiss, thus causing quite a number of heads to turn and stare wide-eyed from the surrounding tables and booths; The Red Escape, although far from being the most exclusive bar on this level, was not often witness to such open displays of affection, especially when it concerned a woman who until a minute ago had been clinging onto her husband. Nevertheless, Eve made almost no effort to hide the kiss; the feel of her lips was feathery and light, and although it lasted a mere few seconds, the blonde was skillful at ensuring that even a touch as brief as this could still lead to the most sinfully wicked results.

The Sith flicked her tongue quickly over her mouth. "I'll be right back," Eve had said, but after a moment's contemplation, she decided that wasn't quite soon enough and so she hopped off the red leather seats to go off in pursuit of the fair-haired Vixen instead. When she had reached the counter, Taja laced her arms around Eve's slender waist from behind, pulling her body back towards her and holding her closely while casting Grev an icy sideways glance. She also knew the second man, who sat right next to them in a state of alcoholically-induced, blissful ignorance at the same time as appearing painfully distraught, to be Jeseth Cloak, the newest potential Severe member … and she was hardly impressed.

"Geez, Eve, you don't pick 'em like you used to," Taja muttered softly into the woman's ear. Just then, Jeseth's hand jerked forward involuntarily, causing the contents of the newly replenished shot glass to once again spill all over his lap and clothes.

"My, that was rather clumsy," she exclaimed, her lips curling into a smile.

Jeseth glanced at Taja, giving her a resentful look. Across the room, he caught sight of the man who had spilled his drink earlier. He was making some frustrated hand gestures at one of the waitresses. The girl turned to walk away, and the guy latched onto her wrist violently and pulled her back. Over the music no one heard the sound of the waitress' drink tray as it crashed to the floor. Jeseth smirked at Taja, and in a completely unpredictable manner, reached into his coat and pulled out a hand-blaster.

It didn't look like Jeseth had even taken the time to aim when the piercing sound of a bolt being fired filled the room and broke everyone's rythem. The man across the room released the waitress' hand as he fell to the floor, smoking trailing from chest. Standing between Jeseth and his target - there must have have been nearly seventy people... most of them moving.

"He never said he was sorry for spilling my drink." Jeseth turned back at Taja and holstered his blaster. The fact that nearly the nearly every patron in the cantina had turned to look at him didn't seem to bother him as he sighed and pushed away what was left of his drink.

"Oh." Eve gasped under her breath after the show.

Right as the blaster was shot, her hand squeezed Taja's, who was resting on her stomach. Her instincts were definitely right; Jeseth was quite something. She looked over her shoulder at her partner then over at Grev. It was time to get down to business. Looking over to the patron, she nodded and smirked. He was still shocked at the sight of a dead man in the middle of the bar, but nodded back to her, gulping. She turned to Taja and put her arm around the woman's shoulders, though her gaze went back to Grev.

"Grev, do me a favor. Take him with us ?" She was planning to go to the exclusive VIP room in the back.