Heroes Without Glory (Open)

[Dovan Grey]

The King and Queen Cantina
Nar Shaddaa

Years had passed since Dovan Grey had been on the Smuggler's Moon. He was a child when he had last stepped foot on the surface on Nar Shaddaa. He had come here alongside his parents, who were freighter pilots and had transported a group of Duros to the planet. Dovan was confined into the ship during their stay, but he had snuck out to see many of the spectacles of the planet. The image that burned into his mind of that trip was a man with a strange blue helmet over his head talking quietly to a devaronian. He remembered it because it was the first time he had ever seen a devaronian, but even at a young age he knew the man with the helmet was a bounty hunter and he had never been in the presence of one. It was strange to see it now through the eyes of a grown man. Even more so because he had become a man who fit into the planet quite well.

He had been feeling restless trapped on the planet of Sullust. He had yet to find himself fully integrated into the New Jedi Order and even wondered if he ever would. He had been able to show off his ability as a fighter and that he had some capacity to control the Force, but he still felt like an unknown in their ranks and his ability as a pilot was only hearsay so far, especially given the state of his ship when he arrived to Sullust. He didn't know what to do with his time there. The monotony of meditating and waiting for action was what lead him his exile from the Wraiths of the Redfall. Maybe being a Force user wasn't for him. He tried to shake that idea out of his head. He had been working incredibly hard to join the New Jedi Order and wouldn't give up now. But he had to escape the planet to clear his head.

Dovan had jumped into his ship and started to head towards Nar Shaddaa. He even took the Hydian Way route right into One Sith territory when it was completely unneeded. He was getting reckless, something he thought would make it even harder to make him succeed as a Jedi. He was able to get out of One Sith space without detection and head towards Techno Union space to the Smuggler's Moon. He wondered if this was the type of planet most Jedi would go to for escape. He doubted it. He even thought that maybe he wanted to visit this place before he became an actual Jedi because the only other time he might be able to make it here would be on a mission. For now, he was simply another person blending into the crowds of the planet.

His eyes adjusted to the red lighting of the King and Queen Cantina rather quickly, as he looked around at the vast diversity of patrons each keeping to themselves or confined to a small group. He didn't seem to stand out any more than anyone else at the bar. He had left his lightsaber on board his ship. He felt strange leaving it behind since it was the first time he was without since he had gotten it a few weeks before, but he thought that he didn't want to drawn unwanted attention. He simply wanted to get off the planet of Sullust for a bit. He wasn't much of a drinker, something he supposed was instilled by his father. His father's family had struggled with abuse problems, so his father seemed to steer clear and his fear seemed to be passed down to Dovan. He did indulge himself in some cigarras though. He had not lit a cigarra in awhile, seemingly embarrassed by the habit in the confines of the Jedi Temple. However, away from the prying eyes of the Jedi and the confine of space, he let the smoke move through his body as he took a seat at the bar, wondering if his path in the galaxy would start to become more clear.

 

[Clarisse Silver]

Clarisse shook her head as her astromech BB-33 beeped from it's station on her ship, the Song Bird. It's long metallic wings folded and extending, flapping through space. She only prayed that she held enough fuel to get her to the nearest place to land, she was dangerously low, and in Techno Union Space. She shouted back at her droid that wouldn't give up on informing her about her fuel being extremely low, "Babe! I understand my fuel is low! Stop reminding me!" She had come to start calling him that, they'd spent enough time together and they did practically everything together as well, she noticed that he hated being called BB-33, so Babe was decided. The small blue and white BB-Series droid beeped in response to her yelling, as if it was yelling back. She didn't have enough fuel to engage light speed and make it out of Techno Union space, so instead she was forced to dock on the smugglers moon Nar Shaddaa.

She lowered herself onto the moon slowly and carefully, making sure the wings of her craft were folded in nicely before she opened the cockpit and jumped out onto the landing platform. She watched Babe lower herself through the bottom of the ship, and roll out of the little space she was in, until she was right next to Clarisse. She sighed, "Alright Babe, we need to find a way to get fuel without someone robbing us..." She may have just been paranoid, but her time in the Jedi Order taught her that people on planets like this shouldn't be trusted, and she believed that much. In fact she watched as someone pick pocketed someone else wallet but she decided not to do anything about it, this was their culture and she shouldn't interfere.

She walked down the streets of Nar Shadda, keeping her hand firmly placed around the hilt of her lightsaber to make sure it stayed there. Babe followed behind her, beeping occasionally to signify his continued presence, and in a way it was comforting. The fact that she'd seen no one who looked like they'd be willing to help her, kind of had a negative impact on her though. She made her way through the streets, spotting a few fights, a few muggers, but turning the blind eye, for fear of hurting someone obviously. She'd seen many cantinas but she didn't pay them much attention, they all looked the same, and that meant they all looked unappealing. She continued on, Babe catching up to roll beside her instead of behind her. She looked up at a building, a sign showcasing the name, lights and music coming from behind the door, and she could smell the smoke and alcohol from here, but never the less it looked like the least crappy one she'd seen so far. She nodded to Babe who beeped reluctantly in response, then went through the door hoping for the best.

She was right about the smoke and alcohol, she could smell it rather clearly in the air. She walked across the room with Babe hot at her heels towards the bar, taking a seat at the bar stool and knocking on the table for the bartender. "Could I get your whole bottle of spiced Rum please?" She asked. The bartender looked at her for a hot second, "Aren't you too young? Let me see I.D." Clarisse was flabbergasted. Of course he was right, she was too young, but there was so many things she found wrong with this interaction in itself. "First of all, this whole moon is solely based off being criminal and breaking the law, every one here is thieves, heck I saw four people get robbed on my way here! Now you mean to tell me that you can't get a girl a drink?" She hadn't realized how literally upset this made her, none of it made any sense. The expression on the bartender's face only grew impatient and angry, "You show me your I.D or you get kicked out of here with only one arm little girl." Clarisse was taken aback, her mouth open in shock at the way she was being spoken to. It wasn't like she was stuck up or anything, it was just the circumstances that made her this way. She couldn't grasp for the life of her, how it made any sense that a bar on the moon based off a criminal underworld, could be demanding identification for under aged drinking, like that was something they didn't accept here, like that was truly against the law.

She sighed, she'd really hoped it wouldn't have came to this, she waved her hand in front of the bartenders face, "You will give me the bottle of Rum, I will pay for it, and you will turn around and serve other customers, and you will never ask me for I.D again..." She waved her hand in front of his face again, pushing the energy she could muster through her palms. He slowly repeated the things she said, and turned around to fetch her bottle, she placed her respective credits on the table and waited for his return.

[member="Dovan Grey"]

 

[Eliza Steele]

This was just another port of call and another cantina respite for the captain of the Corellian Dawn. The petite smuggler had just finished up a run bringing in a nice shipment of spice for one of the Hutt crimelords. While her wookiee co-pilot turned over the ship for their next "legit" payload with their quirky LE series repair droid, the spirited Corellisi decided to get a drink and check out the latest gossip going around the Smugglers' Moon about the chaotic galaxy they now lived in. So far things had been pretty quiet on that front, but the night was still young.

Sitting at the bar, the dark-eyed brunette fininshed off her Twistler thinking a fine Corellian whiskey and a Sweet Theed would be better. Steele flagged down the bartender and ordered a bottle and a single glass to be brought over while she rummaged inside her vest to find a cigar that was her father's preferred brand, then clipped the ends and lit it up. Gods these were good. It as a bad habit of hers, but it sure helped to calm the frayed nerves at the end of the day.

The man who sat down on the stool next to her was smoking one too so at least they wouldn't bother each other. Dark chocolate eyes looked him over and a lopsided smile was sent his way as the Corellian spacer raised her glass of amber liquid to him; the lit cigar between her fingers as Eliza did.

"Cheers, mate," she offered, then took a nice sip of the whiskey, savoring the rich flavor in her mouth before relishing in the familiar and comforting burn as it went down to her stomach. Steele wasn't there to get drunk, just take the edge off and pass the time mostly. Though as before, the night was young.

"Did she just…. Well that's bold," Eliza commented out loud, having noticed the blue chick doing a casual wave of her hand thingy she'd seen used before by a Force user to get their way.

[member="Dovan Grey"] [member="Clarisse Silver"]

 

[Dovan Grey]

Dovan's eyes had remained fixed on one of the many holoterminals located through the cantina. A news report detailing a series of murders in the Ilum system, seeming the work of an anti-government group. He wasn't the most up to date with galactic news, nor did he have any interest to be. He had more pressing and personal goals to focus on before he looked towards the galaxy. He simply had not found any source of entertainment or adventure within the Smuggler's Moon yet. He wasn't even sure if he wanted that. He was pulled between simply wanting rest from the constant task of pretending to be something he wasn't sure that he was within the halls of the New Jedi Order or if he had come here to find the adventure he thought he would have already found with the Jedi. Thrill seeking was probably not the best cause within the Jedi, but it was one that he could not deny he had.

His attention was only taken from the terminal when a woman with dark brown hair next to him drew it. She was looking him over, which he returned. She lifted up her drink and cheers to him. Without a drink to reply with, he simply nodded his head and gave a small smile. His eyes remained on her for a moment, it was something he had developed from his time traveling the stars he supposed. As his parents picked up new clients all the time, he became transfixed on learning everything about them that he could in the small amount of time. So, his intense gaze often lingered a few seconds longer than most would like. It could seem to have nearly any intention behind it, but to him it was a sense of inquisitiveness.

The woman then claimed something about a Chiss down the bar a bit. Dovan didn't see what had happened, nor did he really care to. He had come here perhaps to find adventure, but he wasn't sure if he wanted trouble.

[member="Clarisse Silver"] | [member="Eliza Steele"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

Unbeknownst to [member="Dovan Grey"], there actually were Jedi that had decided to take refuge on the smuggler's moon. The Jedi Enclave on the planet was a myth to many, and a reality to only few. The One Sith and Techno Union were on what could be called good terms, and so it was no surprise that Jedi and force users had it rough on the city planet. When did they not? This was a place run by crime lords and corruption, the only ones who got leeway were usually Sith and Techno Union officials. That was only because most people were afraid to strike at them, on a planet of their own. Force users nowadays had a bad reputation, those who were foolish enough to flaunt their abilities were usually ganged upon and slaughtered. That was why the Enclave was such a highly regarded place, for it was one of the only safe havens on Nar Shaddaa.

Whilst meditating quietly, Ballen-Ist's eyes would slowly open, revealing the surroundings of his empty Sith chamber. It was a place deep within Nar Shaddaa that he went to focus his dark side energy, a place he found it easy to feel and connect with the massive amounts of force energy upon the planet. Nar Shaddaa was constantly teeming with life, and with life came emotions. Many of them were negative emotions, such as hate, anger, and fear. It was common, for those down on their luck seemed to flock to Nar Shaddaa.

Something was different today, however. Those who possessed the force tended to stay in hiding, not go about on the town to the local cantina. [member="Clarisse Silver"] and Dovan Grey had been noticed by the Pureblood's dark sense, and they had immediately piqued his interest. Not fond of causing unnecessary trouble, the Sith would slowly rise to his feet, exhaling slowly as he turned to exit his private chambers. Ordering his personal shuttle to pick him up, the Knight would walk out along the catwalk, gazing down to the lower levels of the planet from his view upon the confined skyscraper. These individuals were definitely located within the lower levels, though it was hard to tell exactly where.

The Kissai had a considerable amount of control over the force, though he wasn't able to immediately pinpoint the exact locations of his targets. No, he could only feel the pull of their aura, or rather the push. They were lightsiders, and so the Sith could only assume one thing. They were Jedi, making their way to the Enclave. Perhaps now would be his chance to obliterate the elusive haven, and prove that he was better than them. A part of Ballen-Ist knew that this was unlikely, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. The Knight planned to simple scout the area, and ask any questions if need be. Standing to his feet within the shuttle, the black clothed figure of Ballen-Ist would approach the boarding ramp, slowly fitting his body with the armoured accessories that went with his outfit.

A chest plate, shoulder guards, and bracers. The Pureblood's entire body was cloaked within darkness, save for his red skinned face that was barely visible beneath his hood. Pulling down the clothe that draped over his head, Ballen-Ist would run his hand through his hair, slicking it backwards before slowly fitting his metallic helmet on. The visor was thinly stretched across the helmet's width, and provided the man with enough eyesight. All he cared about was not drawing any attention, which his species seemed bad at. The shuttle's boarding ramp would fold open, revealing the Undercity streets not too far below.

Stepping forth and dropping from the height, a steady stream of telekinesis was all that was required as the Knight eased himself into a dark alleyway. No doubt some people had seen, but they were either too drunk or high to truly comprehend what had happened. Emerging from the darkness, Ballen-Ist would hold his flowing cloak close to his body as he entered 'The King and Queen Cantina.' It was a shoddy establishment, but what had the Pureblood expected? Stepping to the side as to not get in the way of patrons entering and exiting, Ballen-Ist would fall silent, his glowing golden eyes scanning over the crowds, specifically the two he had sensed out. Even so, he waited patiently. There was a certain polite but deceiving demeanour the Sith carried about him, and while he could act outrageous when enraged, he preferred to keep a low profile.
[member="Eliza Steele"]

 

[Disciple]

Nar Shaddaa was such a lovely world, in so many ways. Everyone was just another face here, unless you were a Hutt. Then you had people bowing and kissing your metaphorical boots in deference to the power and presumptive prestige you carried within your admittedly gelatinous girth. No one looked twice at the odd sentient out around here. Such was the nature of a world where the only law was 'don't cross the Hutts.'

If it could make a profit, it could be found here.

If it was illegal elsewhere, you could get away with it here - for a price, perhaps, but you could still get away with it.

Which is why the figure in the white shawl and bronzium plated cybernetic right arm attracted no attention. Even less attention getting was the pristine Westar-43 mazer pistol he kept hidden beneath his cloak. The mask? Sure, that drew some attention his way, but the dead eyed stare of his luminous red gaze often quelled any curiosity. The male looked fine, until you got close.

Then he was a bit more... odd. There was a hitch to his step. The shawl bulged in the wrong places as though he were disfigured. An aura of unease permeated the air around him, which, incidentally, was how he came to maintain a solid three meter clearance of empty space around himself. Passing [member="Dovan Grey"] and [member="Eliza Steele"], he shuffles along at a steady but awkward pace.

It was not unfair to say he moved like a puppet put to it's own motion. Catching ear of [member="Clarisse Silver"]'s words, he paused long enough to speak to her in their native language - Cheunh. The guttural language erupted without qualm from the tip of a tongue sharp enough to split steel. <No one checks ID on the Smuggler's Moon. He may just have you pegged...> And on that enigmatic note, the figure kept moving to a corner, space opening up around him without conscious thought from any who had previously been in his path.

This was a wholly natural reaction, like a forest quieting when a beast is on the prowl.

 

[Eliza Steele]

Steele felt the dark-haired man's lingering gaze upon her after she had toasted him. The petite smuggler was used to it, and didn't mind the ogling as long as they didn't drool all over her, but this seemed different. Like maybe [member="Dovan Grey"] was looking into her soul. Well if the stranger was, he'd find she was complicated to say the least and stubborn beyond most. The spirited Corellisi had proven that right time and time again.

The brunette motioned to the bartender to bring another glass, then she poured some of her whiskey from the bottle in front of her into it and slid the drink over to the fella. "Can't just have a smoke without a drink to pair with it, or at least the illusion of it," Eliza smiled, then transferred the smoking Sweet Theed to her petite left hand and offered her right for a friendly handshake.

"Steele, Eliza Steele."

[member="Drana'stair'eno"] [member="Ballen-Ist"] [member="Clarisse Silver"]

 

[Clarisse Silver]

[member="Drana'stair'eno"] [member="Eliza Steele"] [member="Ballen-Ist"] [member="Dovan Grey"]

There was definitely something satisfying about hearing her native tongue somewhere so far away from it's origin, but the words themselves left nothing but worry in Clarisse's gut. She had payed no real attention to the possible consequences of her actions, she just really wanted a bottle, and she got it. She attempted to wave it off, glancing over her shoulder at the person who spoke to her, lumbering over to a far corner of the cantina. She turned back to her bottle, staring down at the liquid. She sensed something coming, it was something dark, but she couldn't see it clearly. Judging from the practical announcement the brunette woman had made, she had noticed her manipulating the bartender, but she would understand if she told her she wanted a drink right? She found herself wonder who she'd talk to first, and Babe rolled back and forth at her feet, as if she was nervous from the glares she received. Her mind kept turning back to the dark presence she was feeling, but as she remembered, she was here to find someone to get her fuel without mugging her, that was all.

She turned the bottle back and took a gulp, her first one. The sensation the alcohol made was warm and familiar, maybe something a Priestess shouldn't be familiar to, but she didn't care. She put the bottle back down and exhaled. She stood up, stretching out and gesturing for Babe to follow her, then made her way over to the corner where [member="Drana'stair'eno"] was. <So you understand my tongue?> Her arms were crossed in front of her, waiting for a reply. Babe rolled in circles around her, making panicked beeping noises. "Babe stop," She ushered him by tapping his side with her foot, then turned back to the man.

This dark feeling that she had, it wasn't going away. Something was different about this, very different. This experience felt so strong, it was like it was the very essence of darkness it's self, and she'd already came in contact with that. What ever it was...WHOever it was... She would have to deal with it, she only hoped that she'd have help. Trying to push the feeling from herself, she turned once more back to the man and searched him for a response. <I don't find many people who speak it, I find you quite impressive...>

 

[Disciple]

[member="Clarisse Silver"] got her response when the masked Chiss lifted his head. Like any cantina, this one had alarmingly poor lighting, and it served only to accentuate the sharp lines and crisp edges of the mask the 'Sith' had dawned. Red eyes blinked from behind a facade of porcelain, leaving no doubt as to the figure's species. He was Chiss, just as her. They were the only one's who could speak the language properly while having those particular eyes.

Leaning forward from where he was sitting, head tilting and causing the shadows to shift, he appeared to look through her rather than at her. A finger lifted, pointing towards the doorway. "The show is about to begin, dear." There was a smile behind his sonorous double-voice, the under layer an apparent echo from within the covering of his face. "Nothing impressive has occurred yet, but the audience - the truly patient audience - knows that it's the silence between thunder and lightning that tells the proximity of the storm yet to break.

And my dear, you'll find that the thunder and lightning are within the same heartbeat."

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Clarisse Silver]

[member="Drana'stair'eno"] [member="Ballen-Ist"]

Her eyes shot open wide, shock plastered prominently on her face. She lowered her voice significantly, "You can... You can feel it too?" She could feel nerves grip her, but as an... Ex-Jedi, she knew to control it. There was definitely something, someone, approaching. She would deal with him, now that he was closer she could make out more, even though she was no longer Jedi, Sith were something dangerous to the galaxy, and she would have to get rid of him. Even if she was just a healer.

She gulped down the lump in her throat, and refused to turn around. "How close is he? Can I rely on you?" She hoped to the force that the answer to the second question was a yes, and not a death threat, as the following was expected from people in this area. The presence was strong, stronger than most things she'd felt before. She couldn't let this get to her, she had faced worse and lived, this was nothing she hadn't dealt with, but she still found herself worrying. She was strong, she knew, but she wasn't train to take the lives of others, mentally, emotionally, or physically. She was a Healer not a fighter, and above that she was no Jedi. She was her own person, free from the limitations set by the Jedi or the Sith. She glanced back towards the man she was speaking to, searching his face for expression, but supposing they would be hidden by his mask.

"Whatever happens, remember my name fellow Chiss, Clarisse Silver."

 

[Dovan Grey]

Dovan looked at the glass Eliza handed him. He could smell the whiskey moving through the air towards his nose as he looked back her again. His suspicious nature would have stopped him from taking the drink, but he had already seen her take a drink herself. He thought that there wasn't anything wrong with a drink with her, not at all. Letting smoke move out of his mouth, he took a sip of the whiskey. He felt the warmth moving down his body as he set the glass back on the bar.

"Dovan Grey." He said, taking her hand. He didn't see any point in hiding his real name. Once he moved back onto his stool and took another sip, he looked down the bar keeping his eyes moving around to see what all was around him. "Corellian, right?" He said, before looking back at Eliza. "Travelled around a lot and good at picking up accents. My father was Corellian, though I've only stepped on it once."

[member="Clarisse Silver"] | [member="Drana'stair'eno"] | [member="Eliza Steele"] | @Ballen-Ist

 

[Disciple]

[member="Clarisse Silver"]

There was a grin plastered beneath the enigmatic smile of his mask, and the Chiss simply blinked. The trick with the Force was that it was rarely spot on. It worked through vaguities, like the sense that told you that someone, somewhere close by, was watching you. You didn't have to see them, you simply knew they were there. It wasn't until they were right in your face that you knew for sure what was going on. It was, he mused, not unlike a horror holo.

You knew you were being chased, but it wasn't until you stopped to look behind you that you realized what you were running from...? Well, it was already ahead of you. His index finger straightened, coming up to his lips. "Shh, the curtain rises." His voice was just oh-so-amused.

"The actors have taken their places. Do have a seat, Miss Silver, and prepare for the show."

Her questions went unanswered, as they were unimportant.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Eliza Steele]

What was the hesitation? Just drink it already… geez. This Grey dude was a strange fella. Maybe she was loosing her touch.

"Yep, born and raised," Eliza answered [member="Dovan Grey"] like the proud Corellisi she was. "The last time I stepped on her, well was a week before she got broke. Frakking Sith. I'm aching to take a trip back just haven't had the time as of yet. Hopefully soon… Been too busy staying alive and making a living in this here chaotic galaxy we have nowadays, ya know."

The petite smuggler took a drag on her cigar, then followed it up with another nice sip of whisky. That's when her dark gaze caught some movement off to the side. It was the blue chick again talking to another. They looked like they were nervous or planning something, then it hit her… There was a cloaked individual in the corner whom seemed to be watching them all.

"I have a bad feeling about this," she mumbled to herself, then downed the last of the amber liquid in her glass as Steele's right hand lowered slowly under the bar top to rest where one of her two R-20 scatterblasters was holstered off her shapely right hip; Eliza's left hand resting on the counter next to the empty glass still holding her cigar like everything was cool.

"So what brings you to the moon?"

[member="Clarisse Silver"] [member="Drana'stair'eno"] @Ballen-Ist

 

[Ballen-Ist]

For a few minutes, Ballen-Ist remained silent, simply observing the small groups and crowds that went up to the cantina bar counter. There were many different types of people, though most of them had the same rugged look. Only a few stood out, for they didn't truly belong. Pivoting on his heel, the tall cloaked Sith would begin to make his way along the cantina wall, not giving those that were around a second thought as he passed. They wouldn't try anything, whereas if faced by any lesser intruder they would.

That was the thing that disgusted the Knight about the cretin that filled the bar scene on a day to day basis. Nothing but lowlifes, without purpose. Well, Ballen-Ist walked with purpose, for he had his own grudges and goals to accomplish. He could care less about petty shows of manliness, but would resort to such if faced with it. No one had tried such yet, and only time would tell as he approached [member="Dovan Grey"]. He sat at the bar with a woman, [member="Eliza Steele"], who didn't seem to be force sensitive.

Frakking Sith, eh? She probably had no idea as to the whereabouts of the hidden Enclave, and thus was useless. This man however, might have the answers Ballen-Ist sought, and so he continued to make his way towards him quietly. Coming to a halt right beside the man, the Sith Knight would slowly turn his gaze towards [member="Clarisse Silver"] and [member="Drana'stair'eno"], smiling to them beneath his mask. They seemed to be expecting something, especially the female.

From beneath the Knight's cloak, his arm would lift and outstretch towards Dovan, placing a palm firmly on the man's shoulder. This was just to get his attention, hopefully causing him to turn around. The Sith wasn't exactly looking for trouble, but he knew that everything he did made it seem like so. That was the best part. "Hm," Ballen-Ist's distorted query would sound out from beneath the mask, before continuing in a mocking tone, "Jedi?"

 

[Clarisse Silver]

"I will not sit, it is not my duty..." She managed, ignoring the ever growing darkness of the presence nearby. Gritting her teeth, she turned around slowly. The glare from behind the mask shot through her like a knife, like it was trying to drive the light from her, but that would be impossible, and this Sith was in for a treat. Using her own abilities she called out to him through the force, what is your purpose, she put more confidence in it than she thought she could. With courage more than she knew she had she battled his gaze, shooting daggers right back. This was her duty as a Priestess, not just as a former Jedi.

She could tell that the man he was touching was a Jedi, but she felt if something were to happen the Jedi couldn't stop him, not that she was sure she could either. But it was her duty as a Healer to protect lives, even if it meant taking her own. With a nod of her head she gestured over to the door, silently telling him to exit if his goal was her. She broke the eye contact, then began walking towards the door. Her fingers closed around the hilt of her lightsaber for support, the familiar feeling bringing comfort to her. Aside from that the friendly and concerned beeping of Babe rolling beside her made her will to fight stronger, because she had people to do it for.

She took one last glance in the Sith's direction before she opened the door to the establishment and exited. Babe rolled around her, asking her what was going on, but she dare not answer. She stood with her back against the outside wall, staring with her head up into the sky. She took a deep breath... She would not die this day.

[member="Ballen-Ist"] [member="Eliza Steele"] [member="Drana'stair'eno"] [member="Dovan Grey"]

 

[Nara Basaar]

"it's literally just a rash....you are not going to die" Nara sighed


Nar Shaddaa...now there is a place Nara rarely visits. Nonetheless duty called, and unfortunately this duty involved a Hutt. Nara's adoptive family were well known for helping anyone in need when it came to medical problems which led to them building up many clients. This list of clients was filled with everyone from noble politicians to high ranking agents of the first order and of course this damn Hutt. Over the years the Hutt used Nara's family often and developed a trusting relationship with them so they of course were the first to be contacted when medical problems arise. So here she was, in a private room of an odd cantina tending to an ever dramatic stubborn Hutt. Nara had been called to the Hutt with the belief that he was suffering a 'medical emergency' only to find out he had a small rash which was caused by the bite of some insect. Nara let out a lengthy sigh as continued to look over this Hutt's jelly like arm which was not needed at all, but he would have complained if she did not fuss over him. The Hutt began barking in his own language at her and with him being a Hutt, she had to momentarily hold her breath. Nara finally decided she had had enough and wanted to get out of his room which was filled with his guards and private dancers.


"Okay, just apply this cream twice a day and it will be gone within a few days." Nara said as she left the Hutt's room smiling as his grunts and complaints dimmed the further she got away from him. Nara now entered the main floor of the Cantina.

"sure is busy in here"

Nara made her way through the crowd, her destination being the bar. Nara was not really a drinker of any sorts but she wanted some water so she could handle the bar scene for one night. Normally a Twi'lek would not draw much attention in a place like this, but Nara's bright white medical gown and white lekku cover caught the attention of a few patrons. On her way to the bar Nara could not help but stare at [member="Ballen-Ist"] and then [member="Drana'stair'eno"] , she was always suspicious of cloaked people in public places. Nara shrugged it off and arrived at the bar and sat down when a smiling female bartender came over to her. "The old Hutt giving you trouble huh?" The bartender laughed.

Nara smiled at her. "When is a Hutt not giving anyone trouble? may i just have a glass of water please?" As Nara waited for her drink she gazed around the cantina whilst gently fiddling with the end of her left lekku. This was Nara's first time in a cantina like this and she was actually starting to enjoy the atmosphere of it.



[member="Dovan Grey"] (sorry for just barging in)

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Eliza Steele"]
[member="Dovan Grey"]

Asmus walked with as much grace as he could manage towards the next bar along. He idly rubbed the hot red finger marks along his cheek. It still stung. Oh well, the Nautolan clearly didn’t feel like expanding his horizons tonight. Some people were just so weird about being asked to step outside their comfort zone. Still, the night was young, he was nicely toasted already and Nar Shaddaa was a big place.

It had taken a long time for the crew of the Quintessence to venture back into Techno Union space. Not since they’d been hauled over by a cruiser and worked up. Didn’t bear thinking about tonight. There were drinks to be had, things to do.

Even inebriated as he was he noticed the shadows detach themselves from the darkness in his wake. He turned on his heel and walked a few steps backwards. With one arm he drew back his long, forest green jacket and revealed the blaster cradled in a hand-stitched holster. The shadows receded back into the night. Damn, why hadn’t pretty there been anyone around to see that? That was awesome.

With both hands on his lapels he rearranged his jacket and headed into the next cantina. King and Queen. Looks dire. Maybe just a drink or two here.

As he started for the bar, he broke into a broad grin at a familiar, shapely sight. Truth be told he’d had a bit of a thing for [member="Eliza Steele"] ever since she’d broken his uncle’s - [member="Kairon Rees"] – jaw. Back then the two crews had maintained a rivalry that oft ended in a pub brawl. She was out of his league mind, hitched with a mando if he recalled correctly.

“Eliza! Nice to see you!” he exclaimed as he approached, rudely interrupting the conversation. His tone and demeanour made it quite clear he was a few drinks down already.

 

[Filius Stellarum]

[member="Nara Basaar"]
Filius Stellarum sat in the most shadowy section of the King and Queen, trying to do his best to not sit back in his chair. His blaster wounds from the skirmish with [member="Neroba the Hutt"] at the Blue Devil Cantina still ached and stabbed knives of pain when ever he touched them to anything. In front of him, on the small circular table, was a glass of tihaar, strong Mandalorian ale. Filius had grown to love the stuff since his flight from the Hutts; it dulled his pain, both internally and externally, though his complex cybernetics helped him to not get drunk.

Taking a long swig from his glass, Filius scanned the cantina. He spotted a young looking Twi'lek dressed in a nurse's outfit. That certainly was strange. Filius put down the glass and looked back down at the table, his hood screening his face. It was strange, but certainly not worth his time.

(OOC: my RP with Neroba is still on-going. The only thing that is certain is my wounds and the fact that I will somehow make it out alive. If anything changes, I will drop this RP.)

 

[Dovan Grey]

Dovan had a strange feeling moving across his spine. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, he just felt like suddenly everything that has happening in the cantina was being drawn towards him and Eliza. He didn't like that. His intention was to avoid attention. One hand still held his cigarra, while the other hung by his side next to his heavy blaster. He started to answer Eliza's question with an answer he had already come up with before he even touched down on the planet.

"I'm a pilot looking fo..." When suddenly he was interrupted. He felt a hand on his shoulder, it felt like it pierced him like a knife. Something within it was hot, like it was burning him. He saw a strange hooded man standing behind him that said something about a Jedi. How in the Nine Hells did anyone know he was a Jedi? He certainly didn't look the part, though he supposed that could be said for many within the Galactic Alliance. And he was still untrained enough to not resonate too much in the Force, especially on a planet like this. Either way, he found himself looking at someone claiming he was a Jedi and less than thrilled about it. His eyes then caught the Chiss woman from earlier. She was nudging him towards the exit. Dovan wasn't quite sure what he just walked into. His mind was racing to find a something to say, though that wasn't quite his skill set.

"Sorry, kid. Wrong guy." He said, hoping it would be enough to get the hooded man away, though he doubted it. He stood up, the other man keeping his gaze fixed on him. That was Asmus stumbled onto the scene yelling and drunk. Hopefully enough of a scene to deter whoever was facing Dovan.

[member="Filius Stellarum"] | [member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Nara Basaar"] | [member="Clarisse Silver"] | [member="Ballen-Ist"] | [member="Eliza Steele"] | [member="Drana'stair'eno"]

 

[Eliza Steele]

Okay, so things were getting interesting real quick. The cloaked figure was now standing behind [member="Dovan Grey"] and the way he spoke "Jedi" came across pretty menacing. Steele's dark chocolate orbs did a quick glance back and caught a glimpse of a pair of yellow eyes and red skin under the over extended rim of [member="Ballen-Ist"]'s hood.

Frak! Can this day get any worse?!

Then of course it did… [member="Asmus Janes"] showed up, drunk as a skunk just like his uncle, [member="Kairon Rees"], whom the petite smuggler had a love-hate relationship with from the spirited Corellisi's days running with [member="Jace Trent"].

"Janes… You looking for a broken jaw too or just passing through?" the dark brunette smirked, trying to keep an eye on the situation beside her. She still had a bad, bad feeling about this.

[member="Filius Stellarum"] [member="Nara Basaar"] [member="Clarisse Silver"] [member="Drana'stair'eno"]