Barrett Haskins
Smuggler Extraordinaire
The open floor of The Valiant Vagabond was in a word: lackluster. From the rows and rows of slot machines from across the galaxy, their bright lights now shone to the same crowd as yesterday, probably the day before, and most likely the day before that. ‘Old and dangerous’ to some, The Valiant Vagabond was the shining beacon of entertainment on Bespin for Barrett, he came every time he touched down on planet. There seemed to be a few new faces, a fact appreciated by Barrett, scattered about the room, enjoying the slots, sitting at the bar Barrett, others mingling over their food in the dining area. Bespin had a thing against selling alcohol and food together so the dining area was glassed off and technically a different business. It was okay though; this wasn’t the first time Barrett had gone a few days without eating.
The rogue was sitting comfortably behind a half filled cup of Corellian Whiskey and a smoldering cigarette; their smoking laws weren’t as strict as their dietary ones it seemed. Haskin’s emerald eyes scanned the room from each person to the next. It had been a few hours since he dropped his cargo off on the docks and he was antsy for a new job already so he figured he’d get a feel for the bar and casino hoping to eventually scope out a person who could use his perfectly timed offer for help at a reasonable fee, until then he’d sip away at his whiskey. Each sip the smuggler drew of the fiery liquor started tasting more and more like a new start: Barrett was on top this time and he was sure he couldn’t fall back down again.
He was sitting on a nice sum of credits from his last job: the smuggler had found himself tangled up with the Hutts, running their spice for them for a bit of money. This job on Bespin was a special one from the Hutts, they gave him a very large shipment of spice and had him deliver it to a Twi’lek drug lord on Bespin. The deal had gone over smoothly, Barrett deciding not to ask the heavily guarded drug lord any questions. The nice stack of credits had been shrinking however, his cut always seemed like it was too low after he actually saw how much he got. He had enough to last till his next job however. Barrett couldn’t see a better way to end his trip on Bespin than with another job off world, the Hutts could wait for their sum of credits. As long as Barrett was going to pay them they would be fine, the smuggler had an itch for adventure today…
The rogue was sitting comfortably behind a half filled cup of Corellian Whiskey and a smoldering cigarette; their smoking laws weren’t as strict as their dietary ones it seemed. Haskin’s emerald eyes scanned the room from each person to the next. It had been a few hours since he dropped his cargo off on the docks and he was antsy for a new job already so he figured he’d get a feel for the bar and casino hoping to eventually scope out a person who could use his perfectly timed offer for help at a reasonable fee, until then he’d sip away at his whiskey. Each sip the smuggler drew of the fiery liquor started tasting more and more like a new start: Barrett was on top this time and he was sure he couldn’t fall back down again.
He was sitting on a nice sum of credits from his last job: the smuggler had found himself tangled up with the Hutts, running their spice for them for a bit of money. This job on Bespin was a special one from the Hutts, they gave him a very large shipment of spice and had him deliver it to a Twi’lek drug lord on Bespin. The deal had gone over smoothly, Barrett deciding not to ask the heavily guarded drug lord any questions. The nice stack of credits had been shrinking however, his cut always seemed like it was too low after he actually saw how much he got. He had enough to last till his next job however. Barrett couldn’t see a better way to end his trip on Bespin than with another job off world, the Hutts could wait for their sum of credits. As long as Barrett was going to pay them they would be fine, the smuggler had an itch for adventure today…