Amos Bel
Smuggler
Farout Station
Hangar A-33
"I'm tellin ya, Jim, there's something wrong in the Nebula. Saw something weird out there." Amos was leaning against the Gonk droid as Jim hooked up the fuel hose to the Orchid.
Farout Station, creatively named by someone some thousand centuries ago was a place he frequented. It was a limp-along sort of gas-station, the sort of place that you stopped by, and didn't really come to. There were eight hangers, two taverns, three hotels, and more than a few storage places. Farout wasn't exactly impressive, but it made do for getting fuel and getting a decent enough bite to eat.
Amos liked it here.
Shame the place was about to be attacked by Pirates.
"Amos, I'm really sick of these conspiracies you come in here with." The man said with a slight frown, shifting as he finally locked the hose into place and motioned for this pal to follow. The smuggler quickly trailing along. He liked Jim, he was an agreeable sort of fellow, but didn't track for no nonsense like Purrgil jumping around in the Nebula. Didn't like no tall tales. "You spout this shit even before you start drinkin'.
A wicked grin spread over the smugglers face. "It's half the fun of these trips, Jim. Telling stories about what I saw. Almost see-"
"Like bullshit." The fuel-man finished for him with a grin, giving Amos a gentle shove off before he motioned towards the other ship that had just landed in the hangar. It was a fighter, seemed like an old ugly. Fueling it up would be easy enough, but it meant that Jim would have to tend to another customer. Better to go entertain himself while the Orchid got fueled up. "I'm headed to the the Bantha, send me a text when The Orchid's ready."
Jim offered him a wave as Amos cut towards the exit of the Hangar and headed towards the 'Pale Bantha', Farout's slightly more respectable Cantina. Meaning the tables at least weren't sticky. 'Least not usually.
Hangar A-33
"I'm tellin ya, Jim, there's something wrong in the Nebula. Saw something weird out there." Amos was leaning against the Gonk droid as Jim hooked up the fuel hose to the Orchid.
Farout Station, creatively named by someone some thousand centuries ago was a place he frequented. It was a limp-along sort of gas-station, the sort of place that you stopped by, and didn't really come to. There were eight hangers, two taverns, three hotels, and more than a few storage places. Farout wasn't exactly impressive, but it made do for getting fuel and getting a decent enough bite to eat.
Amos liked it here.
Shame the place was about to be attacked by Pirates.
"Amos, I'm really sick of these conspiracies you come in here with." The man said with a slight frown, shifting as he finally locked the hose into place and motioned for this pal to follow. The smuggler quickly trailing along. He liked Jim, he was an agreeable sort of fellow, but didn't track for no nonsense like Purrgil jumping around in the Nebula. Didn't like no tall tales. "You spout this shit even before you start drinkin'.
A wicked grin spread over the smugglers face. "It's half the fun of these trips, Jim. Telling stories about what I saw. Almost see-"
"Like bullshit." The fuel-man finished for him with a grin, giving Amos a gentle shove off before he motioned towards the other ship that had just landed in the hangar. It was a fighter, seemed like an old ugly. Fueling it up would be easy enough, but it meant that Jim would have to tend to another customer. Better to go entertain himself while the Orchid got fueled up. "I'm headed to the the Bantha, send me a text when The Orchid's ready."
Jim offered him a wave as Amos cut towards the exit of the Hangar and headed towards the 'Pale Bantha', Farout's slightly more respectable Cantina. Meaning the tables at least weren't sticky. 'Least not usually.
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