Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A New Day, A New Team (open)

Two weeks earlier, Nar Shaddaa

"About time you showed up," the large Twi'lek chided the group as they entered the back room of Tonka's Watering Hole. "We thought you weren't coming."

"We made it," Captain Videl replied, "just like we said we would. We hit some trouble outside of Kuat. But that's not your business, Radix. I want to talk to the boss."

"What kind of trouble?" Tonka asked from behind the desk before the Twi'lek had time to reply. Smoke billowed around him as he exhaled, a death stick burning in between his fingers.

Videl took a seat across from Tonka and lit his own death stick. His two comrades stood by the door, exchanging uneasy glances with Radix and his goons. "Imperial trouble." Tonka tried to remain calm, but the expression on his face showed he was far from happy. "Don't worry, they didn't follow me. But I had to jettison the load."

"You what?!" Tonka no longer tried to hide his anger. "You jettisoned my cargo?!"

"Look, boss, that was our only move."

"Well, this is my only move." Everyone in the room knew what that meant. Within a second, Tonka, Radix, Videl, and all of those not worth naming were on their feet with blasters in hand, pointed at whoever was closest. "Drop your weapon and tell your men to do the same, Captain."

"Hell no!" Videl knew what was coming. "Men, keep those blasters up and ready! Now, Tonka, we're gonna back out of here real slow like, and we'll all forget this ever happened."

"No, you're going to stay right there!"

"Come on, Tonka, think this through. You don't want to kill your best crew."

About that time, Star opened the door to the backroom, startling one of the mercenaries. He turned and fired, but Star ducked just in time. Then all hell broke loose. Within thirty seconds, every man in the room was dead or mortally wounded, save one. He climbed to his feet and looked around at the mess. "Holy Yoda..."

Present day, Mos Eisley

"One more," Star ordered, finishing off his drink and sliding the glass to the bartender. He lit a death stick and took a hit, letting the warm smoke fill his lungs before exhaling. God, did he hate Tatooine. Hot, dry, bright...and deadly. But he had to lay low for a while until things settled down on Nar Shaddaa. He could also use a job, since the crew he'd been with for the past year as well as their boss were now all six feet under. Things sure could change in a hurry.
 
The doctor, who possessed a multi-personality disorder, slowly headed into the bar, joyfull grin on his face. He noticed [member="Pal Star"], sitting at the bar, heading over. "Sorry to bother you, kind sir. I would just like to ask for permission to take a seat?" He asked, hands behind his back in a respectable position. He started coughing, quickly covering his mouth. "I must apoligize", He said.

[member="Pal Star"]
 
"It's yours, amigo." Asking permission? In Mos Eisley? Where was all the scum? Where was all the villainy? Star laughed a bit at his own unspoken joke. He took a glance over at the man as he coughed. The guy looked normal enough. "Just keep the coughin' over there," Star said, eyeing to the patron's other side before taking another hit.

The bartender finally slid another brew his way. Was this three? Four? Three. It was late in the evening by now, so it didn't matter. He put his death stick out and took a drink to wash away the dryness.

[member="Dr. Wulf Cybar"]
 
He slowly took a seat, grabbing his ribs. "I'm getting too old for this, too old", He said, nodding several times. "You see, I'm a doctor, I came to Tattoine to study disease, this is most likely the best place to do so. So, what brings you here on this warm day?" He asked, ignoring the bartender. "It is a rather difficult task to complete, but I've been working as a doctor for about...thirty-nine years? I no longer know, I assisted my father as a child...he passed away some time ago, I still have no knowledge of what ever happend to him", He said, pity in his voice.

[member="Pal Star"]
 
stardust walked inside the most famous and infamous bar on tatoonie as she sat at a table across fromm [member="Pal Star"] and [member="Dr. Wulf Cybar"] ordering her favorite a correlian ale , she took a drink and examined the room
 
[member="Dr. Wulf Cybar"] [member="stardust"]

"That's nice," Pal replied, not really paying attention. What a sharer, this guy. He sipped on his drink, thinking further about his current predicament. He hadn't heard anything from his contacts on Nar Shaddaa, but that wasn't definitive. Maybe there was nothing to hear; maybe he hadn't been connected with Tonka's death. But the Hutts were smart. Certainly they knew he was on Videl's crew? Maybe his contacts had sold him out by now. It was impossible to know for sure. He'd seen a couple of bounty hunters he recognized in Mos Eisley, and he was still alive and unshackled, so that was certainly a good sign.

Pal realized the good doctor was still chatting away next to him, and he considered the question. What am I doing here? "I came for a drink," he replied simply. "This seemed as good a place as any." I could also use some work, he wanted to say. Admitting his profession wasn't very risky in a city full of others just like him, but he wanted to be careful right now.
 

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