Barrett Haskins
Smuggler Extraordinaire
Nal Hutta
Fire shot through the murky air like a mynock out of chaos, the smell of burning machinery soon followed…something crashed. If anyone had been close enough to see what had happened they would know an escape pod had hurdled down from above, crashing through the planet’s atmosphere and making haste toward its crust. Escape pods weren’t an uncommon thing on a planet inhabited by gangsters; they knocked ships out of the sky all the time. Surviving the crash was probably the easiest part of escaping, given the raiders and mercenaries who would strip everything in the pod for scrap and sell the person inside without even blinking. It was a rough life to live in the criminal underworld, but somehow the capacious Corellian smuggler always found his way back on his feet…eventually.
A pack of cigarettes and a smile was all Barrett needed to stay above water, the rest of the galaxy could drown for all he cared, but as long as he could hide behind a plume of smoke and a dashing set of pearly whites he could cruise along without a hitch. This was, of course, unless he got kidnapped by pirates, who took offense to anything dashing and generally stole any cigarettes or other smokeable things they happened upon. It was suffice to say that getting ejected out of their ship in an escape pod without being strapped in was the nicest thing they did for him. Though the landing was anything but graceful, at least he was off of their ship. It took them long enough to realize he was of no use for what they were looking for, that and his elevated status in the crime syndicate made him a hazardous target to kill.
They kept him long enough to teach him a lesson, long enough to show him he had more to lose than he thought. They beat him and tortured him, but they never got close to ending him, they made him know he was going to live to see another thrashing. Being the pirates they were they constantly asked him questions to get his money, like where he lived on Nar Shaddaa, where his credits were and how to access them, important codes from the Black Suns, all things he wouldn’t tell his allies, least of all his kidnappers. After a certain amount of time it got to the point where the pirate lackeys were simply enjoying it, getting off on watching someone who used to have so much be trapped right under their heel. Barrett's pain and blood was a power trip for the weak willed crew.
All the bruises and scars would heal, they could fade with time, but the knowledge that he was so vulnerable would stick with Barrett longer than any physical scar. He would likely have nightmares about the ordeal for a while, feeling claustrophobic all the time, un-trusting toward the galaxy. Though it wouldn't matter much if he couldn't make it back to where he came from. The pirate scum were nice enough to drop him directly on Nal Hutta, but they didn’t care enough to aim so he was lucky he didn’t land on a building or on one of the fat Hutts that were peppered throughout the planet. The pirates took away his weapons and his ship, likely selling it just as quick as they got it, leaving him defenseless on a planet swimming with criminals. Death by hungry criminals willing to do whatever it took was certainly a death sentence worse than execution by pirates.
The smuggler was wounded and he needed help, but more than that he needed to get away from ground zero, the crash site was the most dangerous place for him to be. Barrett Haskins gathered his strength to make it out of the ship, hobbling his way out of the wreckage, it wouldn’t be long before he would be too weak to walk. He decided it would be safest to rest in one of the sewage pipes and wait until something happened or he was eaten by a Chemilizard, whatever happened it was safer to seek asylum in a dirty pipe than it was to be a sitting duck.
"I really need a karking cigarette." He hummed miserably to himself as he slumped over in his pipe.
Fire shot through the murky air like a mynock out of chaos, the smell of burning machinery soon followed…something crashed. If anyone had been close enough to see what had happened they would know an escape pod had hurdled down from above, crashing through the planet’s atmosphere and making haste toward its crust. Escape pods weren’t an uncommon thing on a planet inhabited by gangsters; they knocked ships out of the sky all the time. Surviving the crash was probably the easiest part of escaping, given the raiders and mercenaries who would strip everything in the pod for scrap and sell the person inside without even blinking. It was a rough life to live in the criminal underworld, but somehow the capacious Corellian smuggler always found his way back on his feet…eventually.
A pack of cigarettes and a smile was all Barrett needed to stay above water, the rest of the galaxy could drown for all he cared, but as long as he could hide behind a plume of smoke and a dashing set of pearly whites he could cruise along without a hitch. This was, of course, unless he got kidnapped by pirates, who took offense to anything dashing and generally stole any cigarettes or other smokeable things they happened upon. It was suffice to say that getting ejected out of their ship in an escape pod without being strapped in was the nicest thing they did for him. Though the landing was anything but graceful, at least he was off of their ship. It took them long enough to realize he was of no use for what they were looking for, that and his elevated status in the crime syndicate made him a hazardous target to kill.
They kept him long enough to teach him a lesson, long enough to show him he had more to lose than he thought. They beat him and tortured him, but they never got close to ending him, they made him know he was going to live to see another thrashing. Being the pirates they were they constantly asked him questions to get his money, like where he lived on Nar Shaddaa, where his credits were and how to access them, important codes from the Black Suns, all things he wouldn’t tell his allies, least of all his kidnappers. After a certain amount of time it got to the point where the pirate lackeys were simply enjoying it, getting off on watching someone who used to have so much be trapped right under their heel. Barrett's pain and blood was a power trip for the weak willed crew.
All the bruises and scars would heal, they could fade with time, but the knowledge that he was so vulnerable would stick with Barrett longer than any physical scar. He would likely have nightmares about the ordeal for a while, feeling claustrophobic all the time, un-trusting toward the galaxy. Though it wouldn't matter much if he couldn't make it back to where he came from. The pirate scum were nice enough to drop him directly on Nal Hutta, but they didn’t care enough to aim so he was lucky he didn’t land on a building or on one of the fat Hutts that were peppered throughout the planet. The pirates took away his weapons and his ship, likely selling it just as quick as they got it, leaving him defenseless on a planet swimming with criminals. Death by hungry criminals willing to do whatever it took was certainly a death sentence worse than execution by pirates.
The smuggler was wounded and he needed help, but more than that he needed to get away from ground zero, the crash site was the most dangerous place for him to be. Barrett Haskins gathered his strength to make it out of the ship, hobbling his way out of the wreckage, it wouldn’t be long before he would be too weak to walk. He decided it would be safest to rest in one of the sewage pipes and wait until something happened or he was eaten by a Chemilizard, whatever happened it was safer to seek asylum in a dirty pipe than it was to be a sitting duck.
"I really need a karking cigarette." He hummed miserably to himself as he slumped over in his pipe.