Operation Flirt!
If Vala's talents lay anywhere in particular, they lay in her seasoned ability to sniff out the seedy underbelly of a place. Before her time on Earth at the SGC medieval taverns just like this one, scattered across the galaxy, had been her life. Shady arms deals done under tables, intel exchanged at a price, secrets slipped over a tankard of ale or an inflated ego, even just plain old gossip could all be found right here, if you knew the right person to ask.
The ne'er do wells, the mercenaries, and more importantly the resistance, congregated at places like this. Stacy was so vastly populated, Vala was absolutely positive that they weren't all willing to fight someone else's war. She'd seen the recruitment drives already broadcast across the communications channel, all the new arrivals that were willing to sign up without so much as needing a shred of evidence before they were metaphorically saluting and pledging their naive and blind allegiance to the cause. If she wasn't so willing to risk her life for a war she knew very little about, then there were bound to be others.
The Drunken Dragon seemed, at first glance, the ideal place to start. Vala wanted to know how to buck the system, how to get hold of contraband, who to give a wide berth to, everything that the hierarchy didn't tell you. That was how you found out how a place really ticked. She might not have anything to barter with, but that could easily be fixed. She didn't have a reputation as one of the best thieves in the galaxy for nothing, and she always had her feminine wiles to fall back on. And even if she did say so herself, her feminine wiles were an incredibly attractive proposition.
Flagon of ale in hand Vala looked around for an empty table, surveying the faces of those already huddled tightly in conversation with a smile warm enough to appear alluring, whilst still not trying to appear overconfident. 'Time to lay on the charm, I guess,' she told herself.
The ne'er do wells, the mercenaries, and more importantly the resistance, congregated at places like this. Stacy was so vastly populated, Vala was absolutely positive that they weren't all willing to fight someone else's war. She'd seen the recruitment drives already broadcast across the communications channel, all the new arrivals that were willing to sign up without so much as needing a shred of evidence before they were metaphorically saluting and pledging their naive and blind allegiance to the cause. If she wasn't so willing to risk her life for a war she knew very little about, then there were bound to be others.
The Drunken Dragon seemed, at first glance, the ideal place to start. Vala wanted to know how to buck the system, how to get hold of contraband, who to give a wide berth to, everything that the hierarchy didn't tell you. That was how you found out how a place really ticked. She might not have anything to barter with, but that could easily be fixed. She didn't have a reputation as one of the best thieves in the galaxy for nothing, and she always had her feminine wiles to fall back on. And even if she did say so herself, her feminine wiles were an incredibly attractive proposition.
Flagon of ale in hand Vala looked around for an empty table, surveying the faces of those already huddled tightly in conversation with a smile warm enough to appear alluring, whilst still not trying to appear overconfident. 'Time to lay on the charm, I guess,' she told herself.