Introductions

[Rash]

LOCATION: --Nar Shaddaa-- TIME: --N/A--​

GOAL: --Enjoy A Good Ol' Drink--​

TAGS: [member="Anders O'Tor"]​

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Nar Shaddaa. The Smuggler's moon. Whatever one decided to call it the dark and unforgiving one of the two moons of Nal Hutta never failed to make Rand feel like he was home. Declining offers for strong and most likely illegal drugs, avoiding basically any- and everyone in sight to feel even remotely safe, admiring the endless and eye-catching neon lights, topless dancers... the old smuggler couldn't lie to himself, he had and always would have a soft, warm spot for Nar Shaddaa in his otherwise 'cold' hearth.

Ah- Has it always been this close to the spaceport?

The old-timer promptly stopped, taking a look up. Sure enough, he was greeted by a familiar bright pink neon sign. And although it almost blinded Rand and forced him to look away fairly quickly like always, the shining Aurabesh letters were still a treat to his wrinkly eyes. How long ago was his previous visit to the pub again? 2- no, at least 5 years ago.

Hmm... Time flies

Checking his pockets and making sure his trusty blaster was still on him, the smuggler stepped into the unnamed and crooked pub, avoiding eye contact with anyone passing him to prevent getting in trouble before even drinking a bit of Ardees.

After all, It would've been a rookie's grave mistake to differ from old habits in a place like the smuggler's moon...

 

[Anders]

Taking in short, depleted breaths, he felt his legs turning to jelly. Shouldering and pushing over beings meters tall and centimeters short, crowds of civilians yelped and hollered as he pushed them aside, shouting swears as he went. Banking right into a narrow alley, he slowed pace before collapsing in exhaustion, his chest heaving as he caught his breath again.

Regaining his composure, the young man walked briskly out of the alley and into a neon-lit street lined by bars, lewd shops, and brothels. Anders tried to look as unremarkable as possible, though his torn jacket garnered several confused stares. He walked into a nondescript pub, one of the many thousands on the smuggler's moon. Walking over to the counter, he leaned over with crossed arms.

"Spicebrew," he muttered, tossing a credit chip. He looked around him, still on high alert. Thankfully, most of the patrons were far too busy indulging themselves, gambling, laughing, or swooning over sultry half-naked dancers. Moments later, the droid bartender sporting an eccentric bowtie returned with a tall white cup, taking the credit chip before departing.

Anders backed off from the counter, swinging around to look for a seat. Ambling slowly through the crowd, he took a seat in a secluded booth. His leg shook anxiously, looking all around him for the beastly Trandoshans that were pursuing him. They were his friends, actually, were his friends now. They belonged to a small gang operating a slave ring in the lowest levels of the moon. Anders borrowed some money from them to purchase a new cyberespionage device off the black market. He was pretty confident he'd be able to pay it off since he took a contract to kill a Republic agent on the moon trying to sabotage the slave ring. Apparently, of course, Republic agents are considerably trained, and suffice to say Anders was left with a blast wound on his shoulder.

On the smuggler's moon, money was god, and it didn't matter how close you are to someone - they'd turn on you in a heartbeat if it meant getting their money back.

He checked the chrono on his wrist, 0900, about two and a half hours passed. Just when he thought he could leave, two ghastly Trandoshans barged into the pub and sent two blaster shots in the ceiling. The patrons screamed and ducked for cover, as the reptilians began flipping tables and tossing people aside like ragdolls.

"There he is!" snarled the biggest one.

Oh, kriff...

The Trandoshan pulled him up effortlessly and slammed him against the wall.

"Why, you thieving little rat!" He hissed, displaying his frightening serrated teeth.

"Saw, Saw," he said softly, trying to deescalate the situation. "Settle down, and we'll figure this out like gentlemen."

"Gentlemen!" he roared mockingly and hurled him against the wall, pulling out his blaster. "Why don't I just kill you right here like a gentleman?"

[member="Rash"]

 

[Rash]

GOAL: ---Enjoy A Good Ol' Drink---
TAGS: ---[member="Anders O'Tor"]---


Ah... finally resting his eyes on the crooked and poorly lit interior of the pub was like seeing an old friend to the smuggler. It looked exactly the way Rand recalled it, not like a place anyone with good intentions would've stepped their foot in that is. The place wasn't full... luckily, but the man still saw the option of staying in the corner next to the entrance as the best one. After all, if things escalated way too quickly inside the pub for a reason or another, getting out would be the crucial part of surviving unharmed... and perhaps alive as well.

The old-timer leaned against the cracked wall, taking a quick glance over his other shoulder before turning around to face the counter. With a quick motion of his right arm, Rand pulled out a few credits lying in a small pocket somewhere inside his long jacket and threw them in front of the bartender.

"Ay, Give me some Ardees", Rand said to the droid, his moderately raspy voice quiet enough not to be heard by anyone more than a feet away from him.

The bartender that resembled a rusty bucket grabbed the money and left. The smuggler leaned back again, fixing his posture and letting his deep eyes slowly run along the people in the bar while still making sure nobody caught him staring at them. Dancers, pirates, misfits... a young human with a completely torn jacket.

The human... the young boy was clearly anxious and judging by his appearance a rookie who had been given a good lesson. Rand couldn't help but see his younger self and remember the countless times he too had walked inside a bar looking more like a dead body than anything else when he looked at the poor and scared human now lying against the counter. Someone just had to be after him. Perhaps... drug dealers? Gang members?

However, The sweet sound of a polished glass being placed on the counter interrupted Rand's thoughts. It forced the old man to take a glance at the counter again before grabbing his drink, giving the droid a slight nod and a gentle hint of a gentle smile. The smuggler lifted the glass up to his lips, taking in a mouthful of the spicy Ardees that had clearly been spiked a bit judging by the way it burned his sore throat and forced a cough to escape his mouth.

Rand almost choked on his sweet drink when two loud blaster shots echoed around the small pub, causing a second of ominous silence before the room was filled with panic and the frightened screams of drunk outlaws. Rand looked up, the yellow orb-like eyes of a green Trandoshan meeting his. The squamous creature growled menacingly and forcefully pushed the old man against the counter before following his comrades. They were after someone. Someone they wanted dead.

And that someone... was a young human with a torn up jacket.

Rand's wrinkly fingers groped the blaster on his belt and slowly wrapped around it as he corrected his posture. His gut told him to leave, escape, flee, not to differ from familiar habits before anything happened, but something else inside the old smuggler forced him to take out his trusty blaster and make his way closer to the bunch of reptilians, pointing his weapon toward the head of the one holding the boy on the wall. The man didn't want to see a dead rookie. Not when he couldn't get the gruesome image of his younger self in the same situation out of his head.

"You boys have quite a twisted image of a gentleman, you know that?"

 

[Anders]

The Trandoshan craned its ghastly head over to the newcomer with a look of anger and disgust. Saw released Anders, falling onto the ground, and stepped in front of the man.

"You've got some nerve, old man," he growled, groping the blaster in his hand. The other Trandoshan, Enoch, turned to the man as well and placed his clawed hand on his holster.

Anders smirked. With the Trandoshans' attention shifted to the man, he reached in his cargo pants and took out a pistol. Standing up he mustered all his strength and walloped Enoch's head with the butt of his blaster before quickly shooting Saw in his face. With the two attackers down, he turned to Enoch and shot him, considering the fact that the head butt wouldn't be enough to completely knock out an individual of his strength and size. Might as well put him out of his misery.

"Guess, uh, guess I should thank you," he said slightly awkwardly, offering a hand shake. "I'm Anders, by the way."

[member="Rash"]