Radon Krayt
The Dragon of Radama
Laughter and gossip filled the huge lounge bar as the Cloudsinger soared through Bespin's sky like a bird. The huge pleasure yacht was open to any man or woman, regardless of species or standing in society. The only prerequisite that Radon knew of, was having a credit count of at least five digits. It made The Cloudsinger a haven for the rich; a place without law and no such thing as 'shady deals'.
But not all aboard the yacht were blessed with a life's worth of credits. Some among them were in heavy debt, having loaned credits only to spend them on alcohol, escorts and a trip on this beautiful yacht. His target was exactly that; a slippery man going by the name of Kelt Zahn. He was at least a million credits in debt to some very powerful figures. Figures who had the means to hire professionals for their dirty work.
It was the first time he worked alongside the woman who called herself 'The Alor of Clan Krayt'. Well, she had a lot to prove before he would accept her as his Alor. All the kid had going for her, was her heritage. And in his humble opinion, it was experience that made the warrior. Not one's heritage. Despite his initial aversion of the girl, he still decided to give her a chance.
"This is madness..." He commented, staring at the plethora of bottles lined behind the bar. Everything here seemed readily available; spice, deathsticks, alcohol... You name it, the bartender had it. "But it explains the returning customers." The Mandalorian in white remarked, eyes scanning the crowd for their target. "If we don't make haste the deathsticks will do our job for us." His gaze briefly shifted to the other Mandalorian, wondering how she felt about this place. It was in no way different from Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa's underworld, but he knew how unsafe those places could make one feel.
Raya Krayt
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