For all intents and purposes, Mandalore was a wreck.
The entire planet had seen so many wars, it's ecosystem had completely collapsed on multiple occasions throughout it's history. More recently, a terrible seismic event had nearly destroyed the planet. It's people were constantly at war, battling each other for supremacy, to see who would be the next top dog. They broadcasted themselves as honorable warriors, but their tactics encouraged barbarism more often than not.
Even without all that, Minna would have been a little nervous.
The Death's Respite was little more than a glorified dung-heap of a bar. Nearly everyone here was human, with a few odd aliens scattered here and there. Amidst the cheap alcohol and the laughing and the general buffoonishment of drunken workers, one patron tried her hardest not to be noticed.
Minna propped herself against a column by the entrance of the establishment, seemingly casual. Heavy leather padding adorned her compact frame, her long hair tied back with bright jade beads. More hidden was the communicator on her ear, the twin blaster pistols at her sides, and the mess of vibroknives concealed on her person.
Underneath the calm facade, the Fish was a little terrified. She tried to relax her muscles, but they still felt like coiled springs, ready to propel her into action. She constantly swiped a forearm across her brow, smudging away beads of sweat. No matter her breathing exercises she tried, her nerves were getting to her.
"Confidence," she mumbled to herself, injecting the word with a holy reverence. "I'm the one they should be afraid of."
Saying it out loud didn't help much.
This was her first solo hunt since... ever. Her father had said it was time, that she was more than ready to take on the underworld. He was putting a lot of faith in her. She only hoped she could leave with Faith.
That is; Faith Taylir, spice racketeer, smuggler, slave trader.
The Fish had gotten a tip that one of her men fished this bar for clients. No better way to find her than to pose as a potential client. Hence the waiting. And the watching.
And the butterflies in her stomach.
- [member="Loreena Arenais"] -