Sergeant Valkren Calderon pushed the doors of the Cantina open, leaving the emptiness of the Nar Shadaa night-life behind. The soldier was sporting a black and blue Republic service jacket that was completely unbuttoned, a black tanktop visible underneath. As for his pants; black fatigues. Valk' didn't look like the usual combat-ready marine. He looked to be distressed, like something was weighing him down with each step he took in those black combat boots. The Sergeant just stood in front of the door way for a solid minute, not making a movement. His icy blue hues were the only things that moved as they scanned the room. After a minute of glancing here and there..He'd make eye contact with [member="Sar'Talani'Vek"], but didn't make much of it.
He'd remove his black blue service cap from his head with his left hand, rubbing his free hand through his hair as he'd move toward the bar itself. He'd take one of the closest open seats for himself, setting the cap onto the counter in front of him. He'd look to the bartender, lifting a finger in the air before speaking out. "Corellian Whiskey, please." He'd wait for his glass to come around. He had been waiting for the cool beverage to touch his lips once again, finally. The marine was young, mid to late twenties. At the doorway it seemed to be that he was around six feet at height, maximum. Basically, just another grunt..That's all he was. The glass reached the palm of his hand, which ended up meeting his lips.
Delicious
