Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Drinks with a drill sergeant

Mrrew stumbled down the ramp of his ship, in to the dark landing lot on Nar Shadaa near where he was supposed to meet this 'trainer'. "Stay with the ship, Bob" The Togorian glanced at the EMBU droid that stood in the ramp enterance of the starship, before walking on through the dark lot, handing a credit chip to the valet droid as he went. It was only a short walk through the crowded lower levels of the smuggler's moon before he got to his destination. But, having never been on a planet like this, Mrrew of course got lost almost instantly. Odd new scents and sounds came from every corner of the city-moon, and the massive buildings were so high you couldn't even see the stars. How the kriff was he supposed to find a cantina in a place like this? Eventually, Mrrew pulled aside a short red-skinned zeltron man, wearing a trench coat.

"Where's the Golden Slug cantina?" The Zeltron's eyes widened at the massive feline-esque alien before him, and stumbled backwards. "D- Don't hurt me! Here, you can have it!" The alien pulled out a small black packet, and flung it at the Togorian, before turning around, and running in the oppisite direction. Mrrew frowned, and picked up the packet, sniffing it, before dropping it in his pocket. Lucky for him, after another few minutes walk, he found a bright yellow neon sign with a picture of a Hutt smoking a Hookah pipe. In flashing letters next to the picture the words "The Golden Slug" were displayed. "About fething time..."

The Togorian glanced around for a moment, before ducking through the doorway, and stepping into the seedy, smokey atmosphere and loud music of the cantina. He got all sorts of weird glances from the various humans and aliens in the bar, of course. How many 8'2 bipedal white tigers do you usually see on Nar Shadaa? He was sure the mandalorian would find him. He moved to one of the back seats of the cantina, ignoring strange looks from the various attendants, and lowered his large frame into a chair, watching the crowd for any sign of the person he was waiting for. He didn't even know what this guy looked like- or for that matter, even what he was. Could be a Hutt with a wig, for all he knew. The Togorian leaned forwards, drumming his clawed fingers against the table, and gazing through the virtual cloud of Hookah pipe fumes.

[OOC: Sorry for the delay,[member="Dred Malachore"] , had to do something irl.]
 

Dred Malachore

Ne Shab'rud'ni - Don't mess with me
Dred stepped off of his ship in a small hangar, little did he know he was supposed to pay. A man came running up to him, blaster pistol drawn. "Hey, you can't land here! This is a private hangar" the man said. It was a bad idea to pull a gun on Dred. Before the man knew what was happening, his arm was broken. "You can send the hospital bill to Mandalore" Dred said as he walked off.

He tapped on his datapad a few times, searching global positioning systems for the cantina he was supposed to go to. The golden slug. After plenty of walking, he was there. What a wretched hive of scum and villainy. He stepped in, fully clad in beskar'gam. People stepped out of his way as he walked straight at the giant tiger in the corner. He was the only one who came close to the description. He made sure to keep his right hand on his brotherguard pistol, sitting down. "One glass of ne'tra gal" he said to the waiter

[OOC: It's all good]
[member="Mrrew"]
 
Mrrew looked up at the armored sentient before him as he sat, staring closely at the T-shaped visor. Well, this was the mandalorian then. Do they really all wear armor? I thought that was just a rumor. The Togorian shook his head before speaking. "You're [member="Dred Malachore"], then? About time you came." Mrrew stared at the waiter came to deliver Dred's liqour. Once the robotic barkeeper left, the tiger-esque alien turned his attention back on the mandalorian before him. "Since you showed up, I assume you accepted our offer?" Mrrew glanced around the various sentients in the cantina's crowd, making sure no one was listening in, before dropping his voice to a low whisper. "The rebel alliance needs training. Most of us are just militia with blasters. Half of them couldn't hit a Goryll slug, let alone a Sith." The togorian studied Dred carefully, wishing he could see the warriors expression behind his helmet, and wondering how he's going to take a drink with it on.
 

Dred Malachore

Ne Shab'rud'ni - Don't mess with me
Dred relaxed his right hand some, but still had it on his blaster pistol. You never know when you're walking into a setup. "Yeah, I'm Dred. I expected someone.. Shorter" he said and chuckled. Dred took his helmet off, revealing the battle-scarred face of a veteran mercenary. He clipped it to his belt and then took the glass of ne'tra gal. Taking a sip of the drink, he savored the sweet flavor. He then dropped his voice to a low whisper. "I have accepted your offer to train them. When I'm done with them they'll be able to cap a sith from 2 kliks away, blinfolded." He gave a wink before taking another sip of the beverage.
[member="Mrrew"]
 
Mrrew let a smile stretch across his muzzle-like face, before replying. "Maybe I expected someone taller." The Togorian resumed his nervous state, glancing around the smokey atmosphere of the Golden Slug. After a moment, he returned his focus to the veteran mercenary before him, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm to take you to our headquarters. There, you can train us to... 'cap a sith from two kilks away.'" The Togorian raised his eyes to the crowd once more, obviously paranoid that he'd be overheard. "When can we go?"

[member="Dred Malachore"]
 

Dred Malachore

Ne Shab'rud'ni - Don't mess with me
Dred put his buy'ce back on and stood up, stretching. "Right now, the sooner we go the better. Shall we take your ship or mine?" He studied the togorian closely. If any jedi were members of the rebels, they might be a bit.. troubled when they meet him. With three jetii lightsabers hanging from his belt combined with the fact that he's force dead, Dred wouldn't seem very jedi-friendly. "Let's go before someone figures out something." He started walking towards the door, paranoid that they would be discovered.
[member="Mrrew"]
 
Mrrew pushed his arms off the table to heft himself to his feet, glancing around the groups of people once more before speaking. "Mine." After that, the Togorian moved on out of the Golden Slug, walking with the helmeted mandalorian. The tall feline alien quickly strode ahead, trying to find his way back to the shiplot. Where the feth is it? Eventually, Mrrew found his way to the lot, leading the mandalorian through the gates worked i to high chain-link fences. Exactly where he'd left his new freighter. The EMBU droid Bob stood at the bottom of the lowered ramp, staring at [member="Dred Malachore"] as he got close. "He's the one we're here for." The droid's optical sensors zoomed on the man, before Bob walked in to the freighter followed closely by Mrrew. Once everyone was inside, the ramp slowly closed, and Bob's optical sensors scanned through Dred's clothes. "Trackers, comlinks, and datapads are to be locked up." The Togorian picked a large lead box out of one of the many small storage areas of the ship, and placed it in front of Dred. "R9-F1 already has the hyperdrive waiting. Won't be a long trip."

[[OOC: Sorry for another late reply, life keeps taking over. ]]
 

Dred Malachore

Ne Shab'rud'ni - Don't mess with me
Dred followed the huge tiger, stumbling through the city. Eventually they got to the ship. It seemed to be a freighter, nothing fancy. He stepped aboard and a droid stared him down. When the droid said he couldn't keep his comlinks and datapads, he hesitated. "Okay, but if this is a setup I gut you and sell the droid for spare parts." He took off his helmet and took his left forearm gauntlet off, placing them in the box. He then sighed and looked for a place to sit....
[member="Mrrew"]
 
Bob the EMBU droid gripped his twin energy swords in response to [member="Dred Malachore"]'s threat, but Mrrew waved the droid away, and nodded. "If this was a set-up, you would probably be able to pull a stand-out blaster from between your butt-cheeks, and kill us all before we could re-act. That's the kind of thing Mandalorians do, right?" At least that's how the rumors go. The Togorian spun around, and led Dred towards the small bridge of the ship, where an astrodroid was connected to the main control panels, initiating hyperspace. Mrrew sat in an oversized chair, as red lights blinked on the walls, alerting the inhabitants of the ship that hyperspace was coming. "The headquarters isin't far. For obvious reasons, I won't be giving you information on the coordinates, or planet we're traveling to." As if in response, the blast windows used in case a viewport is damaged slid over the viewports. An astrodroid didn't need to see, to pilot. "We will land directly in the hangar. They should already be assembled there, waiting. Any questions, Mandalorian?" The Tiger-esque alien turned towards Malachore, while Bob the EMBU walked in with a plate of cookies.
 

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