A bar on Tatooine. So cliche

[RC 212]

[member="Stoic"]

Location: Dead mans chest cantina

It had been quite some time since Vassara had graced the desert sand with her presence. Much had happened since the first time she recruited her usual suspects into the Fleet. Though most of them came from here, she hated Tatooine.

Still she was always on the lookout for an odd job. To trade a little lead for credits and maybe meet some new contacts in the underworld. She sat at the bar, without Silas, her travelling companion today. As she drank she remembered the days and recounted the battles. Fighting Pirates from Kathlan station, learning from Karen Roberts how to be a Jedi. Being marked by a witch at Tortuga.

These were all elements that made her...and hopefully would not break her.

As she drank her seasoned spacers eyes scanned the room. She picked up cues on instinct, using the force in the most natural way. Upon resting eyes she could read a man or woman. Judging by their posture, their dress, the way they talked. The who was who game was a fun game for her.....

 

[Stoic]

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

Days on Tatooine was like days on a farm. The two suns that heated down on every single creature was horrible at times. What Stoic always enjoyed doing on Tatooine was drinking. Not that he was a heavy drinker or even a drinker but they had decent drinks. Stoic, fortunately, just got done with a job. It was an odd one this time - he had to transport an item safely to the destination. It was well worth the profit of seventeen thousand credits to him, but he was curious about the package.

Stoic was very irritated by the end of the mission so he went into a nearby cantina to shake off the irritation by drinking. Again, he wasn't a drinker so this was a once a week type thing. Kicking the door wide open, he was given shady looks from many different people. It was probably the white light saber on his belt along with his heavy blaster pistols and armor. It was usual in public areas like this but he didn't trust anyone or anything. Maybe if you knew his life, you'd understand. Stoic kept walking no matter what looks were given, intimidation and no few emotions is why he stood there that day.

When he got to the bar, he tossed fifteen credits across the counter and gave the bartender and look."Surprise me." he said in his deep voice turning around to face the direction of the door.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Stoic"]

Not many foks stormed in, asked for a drink and then faced the door. Only two types of folks actually would face a door, due to the psychological need to feel like they had an exit. Warriors, and criminals. Vassaras eyes had landed on Stoic the moment he had set foot in the cantina and she could feel his force signature.

He was in a state of agitation, waves of anger were rolling off of him, permeating the room. A huge grin lit up the woman’s face as she approached. This kid was spacer for sure. He looked like he had had a rough travel and she was ready to help him unwind. She was no stranger to seat of your pants stress and near death adventures.

"Ey you!"

She said, sliding up next ot him. She was clad in a black jacket andtrousers with red trim. On her back a shotgun in a bantha leather sheathe. On her hips three pistols of varying design. But underneath her jacket laid her lightsaber. She kept it hidden from view as some foks in the outer rim were not highly appreciative of force users.

"You might want to hide that saber a bit more. Names Raxis...Vassara Raxis."

She extended her hand, wild blue eyes gazing into his. If he quieted his mind he might feel the power of the force emanating both light and a sight tinge of dark coming from her. While Vassara clung to the light, and the Ideals of a propper Jedi, she was not always the saint.

 

[Stoic]

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

Stoic was about to yawn when a voice called out at him. He immediately looked in the direction of it to see a lady a little older than him right beside him. Already not in the mood, he moved over a few inches. Even though he wasn't in the mood, he still would keep his distance with strangers. "Its not really wise doing that ya know." he would say grabbing his blaster and showing it to her. "And don't worry, the saber doesn't do the talking." he would say putting it back in its holster.

Vassara Raxis. A name he'd never heard before. Nevertheless, he greeted her while waiting for his drink. "Uhh, hey. I'm.... Gustav." Stoic said lying. Revealing his name would/could cause a lot of problems. After all, he is a freelancer.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Stoic"]

"Ha ha ha, don't lie to me kiddo, the force betrays you. As well as your body language."

He was cautious. This was good, a cautious man stayed alive much longer than reckless sort. Thou Vassara had to admit, despite trying to cling to the Jedi code she found herself a great deal reckless. Even earning the name Suicidal Vassara among the crew. Still the young man reeked of the force and she sensed potential. Karen Roberts, a woman whom she had approached in complete strangeness had adopted her as prospective learner. Could she do the same?

"You are pretty wise. I like that. Come let us drink and talk."

Vassara motioned to a booth far in the corner, with a nice view of the door. After all she did pay attention to the habits of her observed individuals.

 

[Stoic]

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

Stoic was confused by the comment. "I'm not lying." he stated as he would follow her slowly to take precautions. "Ive already ordered." he said grabbing his cup of what seemed to be wine as they walked.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Stoic"]

Vassara led them to the booth and then sat down, placing her own drink a cup of amber liquor on the tabletop. She folded her hands and leaned in, inspecting him. He would probably feel her prying eyes, but more so the force reaching out to envelop him, and discern what kind of individual he really was. She could sense individualism. A strong desire to go it alone. But in the midst of that desire to help others.

The stench of the darkside seemed not permeate his signature so she smiled and nodded.

"Tell me about yourself kid. What brings a young rogue Jedi out this way?"

 

[Stoic]

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

Stoic didn't drink while they walked due to his precautions so he was trying to hurry and sit down. Once he did, he took a big sip to try and take away the irritation. "First off, I'm not a rogue Jedi, I know nothing of that label." he stated with an intimidating look. He hated force user groups, he didn't think he was classified as a force user for just using the force a little bit. Not that he hated the force, the force helped him a lot of times. But due to him concealing it so good, no one has ever really confirmed that he can use it. If you looked at him, yeah, you saw a saber but you didn't see a force signature, even if you were the best master out there. However, if things went bad in a particular situation such as Stoic being disabled, his mind just might control the situation.

"I had a job to do here, needed to get something off my chest." he explained sipping some of the wine carefully. Stoic set the glass down on the table and pulled one of his blasters out of its holster under the table and set it on it's side on his right leg. He kept his hand on the trigger just in case. Fortunately, it was hidden and probably wouldn't be noticed.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Stoic"]

Vassara nodded, taking another sip of her whiskey and swirling the amber liquid around the cup. Jobs, jobs were good. So far he seemed to be pretty reasonable. Of course her eyes watched him as his arm shifted slightly and she leaned over, peering under the table. When she came back up she smiled, and took her own Void Ripper Revolver out and laid it flat on the table.

"Since we feel the need to draw guns, I'll just leave mine right here, where you can see it."

She couldn't blame him. Vassara had pulled her shotgun our of caution and shoved it into plenty of folks faces before.

"So what kind of job we talking? And what's on your chest? I got time. Might even be able to lend a hand if you want it."

 

[Stoic]

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

Stoic kept his finger on the trigger still. He didn't know her secrets and sure didn't want to find them out. "I didn't draw my weapon. Think of it as resting it on my leg." he said calmly picking up the drink and gulping the rest down. Stoic was hiding the irritation as it grew stronger but the woman seemed to know everything, almost like she could sense things.

"That's none of your business. I don't share information about my career unless I have to. I'm sure you understand." he explained checking his blaster. It wasn't his more deadly blaster. It actually had a stun setting and looked like an actual pistol rather than his other in his other holster. The other one was longer as well needing two hands when the situation called for it. Stoic realized the stun setting was on, and switch it to the regular setting. It was the irritation causing him to act differently. He didn't usually get this annoyed but figuring him out really ticked him off. It reminded him of when he was interrogated by Jedi and sometimes sith. He got away without a scratch but it was scary no matter how tough you are.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Stoic"]

He seemed to be getting more and more angry. Vassara for the life of her couldn't figure out why and hadn't the time for this. She had to look for leads and her time being cut short as things with the Fleet were changing, always.

"Alright then, suit yourself. I'm curious to know why you're so closed off."

She thought about pressing the issue more. The kid had something to say for sure but was also holding back. With a sigh she rose, scooping up her blaster and tossing a credit chip on the table as a tip for the barkeep.

"Guess I'll get going then, enjoy yourself."

She turned, and began to walk away....

 

[Stoic]

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

The irritation seemed to stay straight, like on a graph. Stoic thought of an image to cool him down. A girl, a little younger than him. It cooled him off for some reason. "My work isn't something I share with strangers. Or anyone actually." he stated watching her grab her weapon. He kept his hand on the trigger of his blaster in case she meant bad news.

"That's probably for the best." he let out as she walked away. Freelancers, mercenaries, whatever you call him, he doesn't share his information with anyone but the person he's paid to give it to.