Texam was tired of always receiving dirty looks. Anyone who saw her on Onderon held some sort of grudge against her. It wasn't that the glares hurt her feelings or anything, they were just getting extremely annoying. With her helmet off, she met each glare with her own, which was much icier than the rest. She sat down at the bar of a cantina in this tiny town she was passing through. The prejudicial tensions were definitely running high here. She asked for a simple drink, but the bar tender simply glared at her. "We don't serve your kind here," He said coldly. Texam clenched her jaw. She reached over the bar and pulled him toward her until she was close enough to his face to smell his breath. "Unless you want your blood to paint the wall, feir'fek, you'll get me a frakking drink!" She hissed through her teeth. She lightly shoved him back to his place behind the bar. He stood stunned for a moment, but got her an ale all the same. He passed it to her with a look of disgust. She didn't drink it because she suspected he spit in it. She could feel more glares around her. She could hear the muffled conversations of the patrons as they looked at her with malice. Texam didn't like it here. She felt angry, and alone.