Private Beskar and Feathers [Hilal Vizsal]

[Tieuvelli Renlas]

Beskar and Feathers

Credit: Star Citizen​

Prologue - The Contract
Planet: Nar Shaddaa
Location: Santon's Bar
Tags: Hilal Vizsla

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Santons was a bar a few blocks from the Mezenti Spaceport on Nar Shaddaa. Tieuvelli visited when she needed help outside traditional lines of work, or when she was passing through the system and had a few extra credits to throw at the pod races. Santons Bar was quite extraordinary, seventeen chairs, seventeen windows, and seventeen pillars etched with the names and legends of his finest customers. Finn Sunrise, Emmett Grim, Meltdown Glenn, and Immortal Wynn to name a few.

Mercenaries Tieuvelli never had the displeasure of meeting, but local legends all the same. It wasn't so much a bar as it was a front for the guilds. Tieuvelli had come here shortly after her knighthood, hoping for answers. Who put the mark on her mother, and more importantly why would anyone take such great interest in a Songwing from Kashyyyk. Did she do something to offend the Hutts?

Of course, she never did get answers. When a local mercenary had enough of her and attacked, Santon was the one who put him in his place. Now she came here for assistance, hiring mercenaries for skills no ordinary Jedi possessed. Today was no different.

"Erimentha," Santon greeted her as talons clicked on his durasteel counter. Santon is a lanky man, with a bald head and a fair but mischievous smile.

"Hello there, Santon. It's been quite the day, and it's not even over yet."

"Nar Shaddaa never sleeps, or did your birdbrain forget that?"

Tiuevelli smirked behind her beak, "All too well. Say, are there any mercenaries looking for work?"

Santon went silent, taking his sweet time cleaning the glass behind those rectangular shades she imagined gears turning. Memories and knowledge flood back to him.

"Well sorta." He said finally, looking back over his shoulder. "Some Mandolorian Vizsla kid outback."

Tieuvelli pupils narrowed, her beak snapping tightly. Santon glared back, unphased by the owl standing on his workstation. "She's Mandolorian. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Crack shots who are the best money can buy." He replied sternly.

"I don't doubt it, but who is the one to get into trouble if she goes and kills herself in a blaze of glory? Why is she outback anyways?"

"An honourable death, they would not blame you. If anything, they'd thank you for giving her that." Santon countered, taking a moment to add, "Came with this weird looking droid, a big one. Probably smashed the place if I let it in but I've said my piece. Take my advice or leave it Jedi."

Tieuvelli turned sideways considering, "Thanks Santon." She trilled finally, leaving the bar to go outback. The rear of the establishment was a viewing platform, meant for patrons to enjoy the races. Santon's old scrapped engine lay on display alongside half a dozen trophies that could be mistaken for scrap of their own.

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Casual Clothing


Hilal sipped on some Jawa Juice as she scrolled through her Holoprojector, there was some news going around Kesti about a group stealing a large amount of Beskar from the mines. The Mandalorian miner put out a bounty for the death or arrest of these assailants with the bags of Beskar they've stolen as payment. Given that Beskar was just as rare as seeing a Sith Lord wielding a Lightsaber blade that wasn't red, Hilal pounced on the contract. Despite her relative inexperience and the fact that she was a small, scrawny girl in the eyes of clients, Hilal was determined to prove her worth. She needed the rest of the Beskar to round out the Outer layers of the final design of her armor.

Through the use of slicing and asking around forums in the underground. Hilal managed to track down the thief's location, Nar Shadaa the home of Smugglers. After hopping on the freighter, Hilal found herself on the planet a hive full of scum and rot. Hilal took another sip of Jawa Juice looking around the Cantina. Santon's Bar was it? It was a favorite hangout of the gang, according to patrons around 2 pm the group would enter the place and start drinking and acting rowdy. That was good, alcohol creates loose lips and hopefully they can spill where they hid that Beskar. She checked her projector specifically looking at the time. 1:40.

"Almost there," Hilal mumbled drinking the more juice.

Tieuvelli Renlas