Public An Unexpected Delay (Character Intro)

[Starlin Rand]

Setting: A spaceport on Naboo.

~~~​

The small holdout blaster had felt awkward in Droxine's hands from the moment her uncle gave it to her. She had never used a gun before, nor did she have any desire to, but Uncle Zabka insisted that she needed to have some protection, just in case.

It was tucked away amid the folds of her clothing now, hidden from sight, but it weighed heavily against her body. She couldn't escape the awareness of its presence, the sensation of cold durasteel biting into her skin through the layers of fabric.

She was seated on a bench, her eyes scanning the crowds of travelers for any sign of her uncle. He was supposed to meet her there at the appointed time, but he was already five minutes late. She left her spot to compare her personal chrono with the spaceport's public clock, and found that it was accurate. Dismayed, she hurried back to the bench and sat with her legs crossed, her foot twitching anxiously.

Perhaps something had gone wrong, an accident or some trouble. She hated to consider these possibilities, but it was necessary to prepare for the worst. Uncle Zabka, once a rowdy spacer, was said to have long since left his youthful wild days behind him. She doubted he would be so irresponsible as to get involved in something shady or dangerous now, but she couldn't help dwelling upon his insistence that she take the blaster, "for her own protection". What did she have to fear here, in the middle of a crowded spaceport?

Spoiler: OOC

This thread is open to all characters. You can have your character be the cause of Zabka's absence (provided you don't kill him) or interact with Droxine. Whatever you can imagine, go for it.

 

[Hamish McNair]

The Spaceport​

The credit chips clinked in the pouch. It was masterfully sewn and decorated in vibrant threads. Ham reckoned it may have been worth as much as the reward it held for finding and returning the boy alive. Wouldn't that be something. Truth be told, he wasn't really fussed about the reward -- saving the boy's life was more important -- but he had expenses. Every little helped.

He undid the thread tying it together with a gloved hand and wondered for a moment if it felt as premium as it looked. Probably. He fished out a credit chip and held it up to his helmet's visor.

Payday was always a good day.

Ham's eyes focused behind the chip as a figure caught his eye. A woman, feth, a gorgeous woman, looking quite distressed. A quizzical look befell his face as the man pocketed the chip and stashed the pouch in a satchel. He had a knack for finding people in trouble.

Call it a kind heart.

"Ma'am," he began as he neared the woman. "You miss your ride or somethin'?" His voice crackled through the vocoder yet held some semblance of warmth.

Droxine Rand​

 

[Starlin Rand]

Droxine looked up as the masked man approached. She dipped her head and smiled thinly. "I'm waiting for someone," she replied. "He's just a little bit late."

She didn't want to seem rude, especially to a stranger who was merely trying to be kind, but there was little this man could do to help her. Better that he minded his own business and let her take the disappointment - and potential cause for concern - in stride.

Hamish McNair

 

[Hamish McNair]

"Uh huh," grunted the man. He wasn't convinved.

Nobody was this nervous over someone being a little late. Concern turned to suspicion as Hamish gave the woman a steady look-over. He should let things be, he knew that. People like being left alone. Hell, Ham understood that. But there was something going on here, he could feel it. There was a certain kind of fear in the air.

His years and experience as a lawman on the Rim drove Ham to inquire more.

"Who's this someone?"

Droxine Rand ​

 

[Starlin Rand]

The stranger wasn't giving up so easily. Droxine pursed her lips, but kept her tone light.

"My uncle," she replied. "We agreed to meet here. He's... well, more traveled than I am." She broke eye contact briefly, brushing imaginary dirt from her skirt. "We're going on a trip together. Or we were. I haven't been able to reach him, and I don't know where he is."

Hamish McNair

 

[Eloise Deceaux]

Droxine Rand
Hamish McNair

Comet’s Tail, a bar near the Naboo Spaceport​

Zabka seemed like a nice enough guy. It had been quite awhile since Eloise had a drinking companion and his stories of wild adventures, close calls, and a twi’lek who had lost her kitten were as humorous as they were thrilling. The older man raised a wavering finger as he gestured at the barkeep for another round.

An hour or two ago the pale woman had been vomiting up two weeks worth of fine dining from the hyperspace voyage on whichever luxury liner she had smuggled herself on. When Zabka stumbled upon her to check on how she was feeling it was he that informed her she was on Naboo. It was a matter of luck that she had her Sith mask and lightsaber nestled away in the viridian sack strapped across her shoulder. Probably would’ve made a bad first impression.

“So after the droid threatened to vent the oxygen from your ship you managed to convince it that you were a droid and it was an organic being? How did you manage that?” The next round of Naboo ale had arrived right as she finished her question.

She was certain the kind old man had said something about only having time for one drink. Places to go, people to see… but Eloise wasn’t about to remind him. He was buying the drinks and providing free entertainment.

 

[BO-8]

Naboo Space Port

-- Well.... This was a new feeling.

-- Two Royal Security Droid were holding the small PIT-Droid off the ground and "escorting" him off the premise. All he did was get into a scuffle with a RX Droid about the tin can hovering over his foot. He could not feel pain, but it was still rude and demanded an apology from the Pilot Droid. Of course however, the droid did not understand the need to apologies to a PIT-Droid. So BO-8 proceeded to call the RX-Droid a racist.

-- One thing led to another and now the Pilot Droid was in a puddle of its own Hydraulics Fluid and he was being restrained by the two very gentle security Droid.

-- "Come on officer," Stated BO-8 as he was being literally carried out of the space port, "A gentleman asked that I get a message to his niece, and plus the dumb racist started it, he even called me an idiot," He somewhat made up that last part, what it really said was it was unable to comprehend the need to apologies to a labor droid commonly used in dangerous environment. It may have been then that he broke off the Pilots Droids arm.... but it still started it. "Please officer, the organic Zabka something told me to come here and look for a younger organic human, green eyes, brown hair and would look like a cowering Kybucks about to bolt." He looked into the depths of his mind to remember the nieces name. "Droxine, Droxine something, like her uncle, I always thought it was a strange name but Organics, right."

-- His attempt to joke and relate to the security droids did not help, they continued to haul him through the space port as if he was extra luggage.

-- "Fine, never liked it here anyways." He started to pout as best he could being that he was a one eyed droid about the size of a small child.

Droxine Rand
Hamish McNair