Public Pit-Stop: Mos Eisley Cantina, Tatooine

[Niobe Pearce]

AMNESTY VOYAGE​

Outfit: x
Tag: Alyosha Zratis | Arcadian | Rocketman | Samia Haast | Open

​

There has been a change of plan. One of our confidants informed us that Darkstar Velco has increased their bounties on us, thus it is becoming increasingly unsafe for us to roam around the Braxant Run and the Oricho Sector for the time being. We rearranged our rendezvous point with our contact to Tatooine, and after a long flight, we finally made it to the desert planet. I noticed Rocketman's tapping feet. He is already bothered by the combination of the heat, having to keep his mask on, and the numerous patrons staring at us. Whether they are ogling me, or looking curiously at him doesn't matter. He is anxious of all the attention.
​

"Two yagbitters, one with straw!"​

We grabbed our order and moved to some empty seats. Loud chatters fill the entire cantina. I have a hunch that today is a particularly busy day. It's the end of the week, people are betting large sums, the band are playing their finest brass instruments. Some of the conversation I understand, I heard mentions of water, duel, and podrace. Others are either too fast, or it's in a completely alien language. Truth be told, this is the perfect planet to look for and save some lost souls. I mean, look at this craphole. Bandits, warlords, slavery, you name it. We only have to take extra precaution not to ruffle the wrong feathers, that's all. It's just a shame that we have to cancel our plan of slowly making our way to Seswenna, instead of going almost directly. It's only a temporary detour, however. Once the heat has dropped and we have filled our ranks of crew, the galaxy is open for exploration.

The longer we wait, the more eyes are looking at our way. One thing is certain regardless of where we are in the galaxy. Guns and booze are really bad combinations. Back at home, we at least understand the social norms and cues enough to avoid problems. Here, however, I haven't spent enough time in the ghetto university to know what to do. Hopefully, it doesn't take long until Arcadian is here, he is exactly experienced and equipped to help us navigate this kind of situation.​

​

 

[Samia Haast]

Niobe Pearce Rocketman Arcadian
Alyosha Zratis

Things were heating up for Samia under the brutal twin suns of Tatooine.

Her crime spree was swiftly coming to an end. She had hubris to thank for that. Disabling the slaver's security droids at the Emporium & Repair Shop had gotten too easy. She forgot about good 'ol flesh and blood. Slavers were happy to pay a pretty penny, coughing up the credits for expensive Trandoshan mercenaries. As soon as that happened, her days were numbered. Hard to hide from infrared vision in the crisp desert nights.

The indigo haired troublemaker was barely able to escape, slithering away from a Trandoshan's clawed grip, but not before body cameras caught her face. A bounty would be soon to follow, with her easily recognizable mug plastered everywhere.

Luckily, she was able to make off with the merchandise. She had stashed the power cell before finding her way to the Mos Eisley Cantina. Seemed as good a place as any to lay low. When things cooled down, she could snatch up her prize and get a one way ticket off this scrapheap.

Samia "borrowed" a broad-rimmed cap off a drunken humanoid and tucked her wind-swept blue hair inside. She let a small tuft of hair fall to the side of her face, concealing the tattoo on her cheek.

She sat at a corner table, ordered an ice cold blue milk, and contemplated her next steps.

Where would she go? What would she do?

She was a rebel without a cause and now looking for one.

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Arcadian
GEAR: In Bio

GOD AND A GUN​

It was good to be back.

And that was saying something after he had to single-handedly try and fight the sudden influx of crime on the planet. But after his and some other Karjr's reception on Kestri with the collapse of the Enclave's might, he had decided to return to Tatooine - the planet he had so long been responsible for.

The only difference now, was that he was twenty years older than when he started his responsibility on the planet and he wasn't back to try again. He had come back to settle on the Bantha ranch outside of town and keep an eye on the peace at most.

So now, he just sat at a corner table, nursing a whiskey and just relaxing while the cantina was bustling. There was no reason for him to do otherwise for now. So he just watched everyone. He knew most faces by now. He knew the troublemakers. And those that are mostly harmless except for a random scam here and there. But there were faces that he didn't know as well.

It was especially those faces the old Mandalorian watched.

Watched and waited to see what would unfold.

 

[Arcadian]

:// ... LOCATION > TATOOINE...
:// ... SOUNDTRACK > GREEN JEWELS ...

Arcadian hated his helmet. Always had.

He hated that his feeble lungs couldn’t tolerate even the most pristine of breathing conditions. Hated seeing the world through the tinted glass visor. Being vilified for the ominous demeanor that a masked visage brought to an otherwise decent man.

But on Tatooine, battered by sand and dust, scorched by the twin suns… Cade was glad to be an Ubese.

Mos Eisley wasn’t a high mark on his list. A wise man once called this place a hive of scum and villainy, and Arcadian was inclined to believe him. The shady backdrop was nearly comical when compared to the otherwise altruistic bunch he was set to meet. This wasn’t like other jobs. Cade wasn’t sure what to expect.

But a call left unanswered is just Credits left sitting on the table. And if there’s one thing Arcadian hates more than his helmet, it’s not getting paid.

The door to the local cantina slid open with a hiss that was just barely audible over the dust storm stirring in the spaceport outside. As if on cue, a large number of eyes were cast at the helmed Ubese who stepped inside the bar. Only a handful seemed truly interested. Arcadian ignored them all indiscriminately. He was here for one person: Niobe Pearce.

Whether she was here already or on her way, he wasn’t sure. He stepped to the bartender and croaked out a raspy, “Afternoon. Need rum. Corellian, if you have it.”

Tags: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Vren Rook | OPEN​

 

[Niobe Pearce]

AMNESTY VOYAGE​

Outfit: x
Tag: Alyosha Zratis | Arcadian | Rocketman | Samia Haast | Vren Rook | Open

​

Time passes, minutes turning into hours, and the only constant is the scorching heat of the desert and the performances put on by the swing-band.The turnover of people coming in and out, sometimes involuntarily, makes it hard to notice everyone. Bantha herders off the clock, podracers drinking their sorrow away, mercs betting the bank two seconds after receiving payments. They are all just that, low-level scums, blue-collar workers, or d-list celebrities. Cogs in the machine. It's hard to distinguish individuals when they were stripped of all their individualities. Yet, some faces are far more interesting than the others.

An indigo-haired young lady, most likely human, who is magically sporting a broad-rimmed cap, after coming in without one. There is something about the way she walks and moves. This one wasn't born for this life. She doesn't walk this world, she is out of her element. I am pretty sure I have seen her somewhere, the bounty board perhaps. Rich kid running away from her dad, price on her head, alive, waiting for a gentle bounty hunter to deliver her safely to daddy's golden cage? I know it all too well. It never happened to me, my dad was surprisingly decent for a mogul. It happens far too often around me, though. Including Kastor's little brother who I've never met. I wonder if this cantina is the best place for her to lay low, this place reeks scums and mercs.

Speaking of mercenaries, our contact isn't here yet, that's it unless he catfished us. There's a pleb sitting at the bar, with a cheap contraband blaster, ragged armor, and dirty clothes, staring at me for the last five minutes. At this point, I don't know which one is worse, if he is actually our hired-gun, or if he is just some creep who will be all over me if Rocketman is not a six-three juggernaut packing a DT-57. I decided not to give him another ounce of my attention. Not when a much more amusing figure sits on the other side of the cantina, at a corner table, all on his own. A tall, somewhat charming figure that made me double-check the bounty board when he walked in. His armor is Mandalorian, exactly the kind of people Kastor would hire to do the dirty jobs. He looks a bit old, at least older than me, an experienced Mando. Luckily, there's no bounty on us on this planet, at least not yet. A part of me prays that he is also not here for the indigo-haired girl. He hasn't made his move, so that's hopefully not it.

I was just stealing glances at the Mando when yet another figure entered the cantina. A man with a mask, a huge one at that. Not the biggest guy in the room, yet looking at the guns he is packing, he might as well be. That's definitely our guy. I tried to meet his eyes beneath the tinted visor, yet he just walked through to the bar.
​

"There he is, took him long enough. Keep an eye on the indigo hair and the Mando, eh? And my drink."​

I can hear the small sigh escaping from his mask and I can't hold the small grin forming on my face. He always wants to handle all this on his own, but he can be too awkward sometimes, especially with new people. His stubbornness reminds me of Kastor sometimes, but at least he is not a control freak. It just annoys him admitting that things can be out of his control sometimes. I walked to the bar, ignoring the pleb's creepy smile, and took my seat besides Arcadian while forwarding the job details to his holo.
​

"Niobe Pearce, pleasure meeting you."

 

[Samia Haast]

She hadn't figured out how to escape her situation, yet. The details were a little fuzzy. She was a wing-it type of gal. Plans were for the suits — money makers with big dreams and loose morals. Just like her father and his lackeys.

Samia collected her thoughts and glanced around the bustling cantina. Like a hawk bat, she scrutinized the entrance. Patrons of all shapes, sizes, and colors came and went. She was sipping her blue milk, now slightly sour and lukewarm, when a strangely masked creature entered. She deduced the mask was for breathing and shuddered at what feeble-lunged monstrosity must be hidden within. Whatever it was, it looked armed and dangerous.

Her eyes followed it to the bar. Another strange creature approached him. But strange in the way this one clearly didn't belong. She was beautiful. Tall, slender, with cascading blonde hair — she was either royalty or a model or both. Either way, what was she doing here? This place was for those washing up on the sandy shores of mediocrity.

Samia took the last swig of her blue milk and walked towards the bar. If they didn't belong here, maybe this was her way out of this mess. Time to eavesdrop. Inconspicuously.

As she sauntered over, something suddenly stirred to her right. Movement from the shadows. Something gigantic, rapidly approaching, and... green?

Chit — a Trandoshan, smirking and armed to the teeth.

Niobe Pearce Arcadian Vren Rook

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Arcadian
GEAR: In Bio

REVELATOR​

Nothing much happened.

Two patrons looked like they didn't belong in this place. An indigo-haired girl looked like she belonged, but spooked. But they all seemed placid enough. Aside from the white-haired woman shooting him glances. He was used to it. The regulars had gotten used to a Mandalorian amongst them. But newcomers were always wary. He didn't blame them. The Mando'ade were still a dangerous people, even if they were scattered.

But then an Ubese walked in and everything changed.

The Ubese himself didn't raise flags with Vren. He was used to the dangerous aliens. He knew another Ubese very well. One that had made his full mark within the Enclave. Vulcan Krayt . Another stalwart Mandalorian. One that the grizzled Karjr wished was here in the cantina. But as the masked alien moved toward the bar, the other strangers starting moving too. Though the white-haired woman's tall companion remained seated, she sauntered over to the Ubese.

She wasn't the only one.

But the moment the indigo girl moved, Vren set down his glass and pulled his helmet closer. Not because of her, but because of the lizard. Vren knew trouble when he saw it. The hardened Mando'ad moved like lightening. By the time the Trandoshan had reached the girl, Vren was behind him, helmet on, and pressed a blaster in his back.
"I'd step back from the lady if I were you, partner." came from his vocabulator. Not a raised voice. But the quietness of it made it clear that the Karjr meant business.

The lizard hissed at him as he glanced back.
"Mando." he then said.
"You'd move along if you wish to live, friend." It was a simple, almost friendly sentence, but loaded. This wasn't Vren's first rodeo and it wouldn't his last. He still had his trigger finger.
The Trando glanced at the girl. "Later, sssssweatheart." Then he walked out of the cantina.

Vren holstered his blaster.
"Ma'am." he said, dipping his helmeted head and lifting his hand as if tipping an imaginary hat.

Then he walked back to his corner table and sat down again.

 

[Arcadian]

:// ... LOCATION > TATOOINE...
:// ... SOUNDTRACK > GREEN JEWELS ...

“Pleasure is mine,” Cade said, glancing to his holopad as it filled with data.

He sensed already that it would be quite an interesting assignment. But the details were lacking in the initial invitation. Were it not for damnable curiosity and a current shortage of Credits, Arcadian might have just passed this job over.

But that’s never the case, it seems.

“I am Arcadian,” he supplied, the tangerine helm on his head tilting with a respectful nod.

Niobe was much more… regal than those who contracted his work. Certainly more so than all the bodies that filled the cantina.

Especially more than the crew she seemed to be garnering. He glanced to her, eyes studying her through tinted glass.

“Where do we begin?” he rasped, forcing Galactic Basic through his inhuman vocal chords.

Tags: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Vren Rook | OPEN​

 

[Niobe Pearce]

AMNESTY VOYAGE​

Outfit: x
Tag: Alyosha Zratis | Arcadian | Rocketman | Samia Haast | Vren Rook | Open

“Where do we begin?” he rasped, forcing Galactic Basic through his inhuman vocal chords.

"The guy with the golden mask right there is Rocketman. You can call him Capt. Mission is simple. Those I glanced at his holo are volatile systems full of cartels, corporations, petty warlords, and Alliance skirmishers. We come in, preferably in peace, blend in, identify the people who need refuge, help them relocate, recruit the promising ones. In case things go south, you are our insurance policy."​

Before I finished the explanation, some noises crept up in the background, getting closer and closer every second. It sounds like a brewing trouble, out-of-control drunk scum clawing to keep their fragile ego intact, or worse. I took a glance to see if the creep was still on his seat. He is, eyes no longer glued on my backside, instead looking at the source of the noises anxiously.​

"I'd step back from the lady if I were you, partner." came from his vocabulator. Not a raised voice. But the quietness of it made it clear that the Karjr meant business.

I turned to the source of the voice. The indigo hair (Samia Haast) is standing there, behind her a giant Trandoshan, and behind him the Mando ( Vren Rook ), with his blaster pressed on the Trandoshan's back. Chit, this can get ugly. I glanced at our table, Rocketman is still sitting down, but his hand is hovering on his DT-57.​

The lizard hissed at him as he glanced back.
"Mando." he then said.
"You'd move along if you wish to live, friend." It was a simple, almost friendly sentence, but loaded. This wasn't Vren's first rodeo and it wouldn't his last. He still had his trigger finger.
The Trando glanced at the girl. "Later, sssssweatheart." Then he walked out of the cantina.

My eyes linger from the Mando, giving him acknowledgement, then to Rocketman, making him aware of my disapproval, then to Arcadian , trying to measure his emotion beneath the mask, and finally stop at the indigo hair. The Trandoshan is at best a mid-tier merc, not anywhere on the level of Arcadian nor the Mando. Not to mention, Trandoshans are vicious savages. That wasn't a daddy extraction job, nor does it have anything to do with her wealth. Indigo must have pissed a local crime-lord or the types somehow, which means that she must have been out there for a while. This might as well be our first rescue.​

"This is not the place if you want to lay low, girl. Tell me, what is a girl like you doing in this filthy place? Is that Mando working for you?"

 

[Samia Haast]

"Later, sssssweatheart," the Trandoshan hissed, his lizard tongue wiggling for a little too long afterwards. It creeped her the hell out. At least he was going away, proverbial tail tucked between his legs. She mockingly pouted and waved goodbye to him.

Samia was safe for now, but her reprieve was temporary.

The man with the helmet nodded and walked away. Her knight in shining weathered armour. Maybe people in helmets weren't so bad. She was grateful.

It didn't take long after for panic to set in. Her very convincing cover was blown and all she needed to do was step outside the cantina and she was done for. But indigo haired ladies didn't face consequences. Not this one, atleast.

"This is not the place if you want to lay low, girl. Tell me, what is a girl like you doing in this filthy place? Is that Mando working for you?"

She was beautiful. Even more so up close.

Samia's head swam. She wasn't sure if it was from the woman or good 'ol evolutionary molded adrenaline, but she had to keep her wits. She still didn't know who to trust. The mando was her best bet for now.

"Slavers tend to take offense when you take their stuff without asking. Crybabies. Yeah, the mando works for me," she said shakily. "Or with me, or whatever." Best to play it safe.

Samia moved quickly to the table Vren Rook was seated at. She strategically placed herself where she could still watch Niobe Pearce and Arcadian . She couldn't be sure what they wanted and the mando already saved her one time, why not again? The indigo haired girl hoped they would follow, she needed the help if they were offering. She had back up if they weren't.

"Thanks, that was badass," she said to the mando. "Buy you a drink?"

She didn't actually have any credits. Spent the last of 'em on a Jawa plushy. It was too cute propped up in the spaceport's souvenier shop window to say no. Resistance was futile. But she had a valuable commodity stashed outside the cantina (the power cell, not the plushy... unless he was into that sort of thing). She could pay him back for the drink — and for saving her.

Niobe Pearce | Arcadian | Vren Rook

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Arcadian
GEAR: In Bio

REVELATOR​

Back in the shadows.

Observing the bar as he, once again, removed his helmet. Resting an ankle on his knee, he leaned back in his chair, picking his whiskey back up. The regulars knew not to mess with his drink. He wasn't a bad-natured, angry man, but they knew he had the nose of a bloodhound when it came to wrongdoers.

He had just taken a sip of the whiskey when the indigo-haired girl took a seat at his table. Sitting the tumbler back on the table, he sat up a bit straighter.
"You need something, little miss?" he asked her, keeping the others at the bar in his peripheral. Something was at play.

"Thanks, that was badass,. Buy you a drink?"

Vren relaxed somewhat at this. It could still be a play, but at least it didn't seem malicious.
"That won't be necessary, ma'am. But would you like some whiskey? Or something else." he asked before he flagged the barman over. "And it was nothing. I know a bad feller if I see him." he added as his glass was topped up.

He leaned back once more, scanning the bar.
"Why was an Emporium merc looking for you?" he asked her without looking at her. "They don't hound just anybody. Especially not here." His steely, dark eyes turned to her then. "You are safe for now. My basilisk is watching the entrance. But it'd be best if you come clean, miss. I wouldn't be able to keep them off your back otherwise." He was able, for sure. But it depended on her answer. "And who are your associates?" He nodded toward the white-haired woman and the Ubese at the bar.

At least there was never a dull moment on Tatooine.

 

[Arcadian]

:// ... LOCATION > TATOOINE...
:// ... SOUNDTRACK > GREEN JEWELS ...

Cade huffed a chuckle that sounded more like a rough cough, pushed from his inferior lungs.

“Insurance policy?” he echoed. “Expect lots of trouble, do you?”

He glanced back to the scuffle, an altercation of sorts transpiring between a blue-haired human, a Trandoshan, and a Mandalorian. It sounded like the start of a poor joke.

“She brings too much attention. You’re sure she’s the one?”

Tags: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Vren Rook | OPEN​

 

[Niobe Pearce]

AMNESTY VOYAGE​

Outfit: x
Tag: Alyosha Zratis | Arcadian | Rocketman | Samia Haast | Vren Rook | Open

​

Samia's head swam. She wasn't sure if it was from the woman or good 'ol evolutionary molded adrenaline, but she had to keep her wits. She still didn't know who to trust. The mando was her best bet for now.

"Slavers tend to take offense when you take their stuff without asking. Crybabies. Yeah, the mando works for me," she said shakily. "Or with me, or whatever." Best to play it safe.

Samia moved quickly to the table Vren Rook was seated at. She strategically placed herself where she could still watch Niobe Pearce and Arcadian .

I nodded. That's not the most convincing sentences ever spouted, yet I want to see how things play out. That was a scary scenario, the whole lizard fiasco. Maybe it just shooks her to the ground and need a breather beside her alleged associate, yet she should have expected it, stealing from Tatooine slavers.​

​

“Insurance policy?” he echoed. “Expect lots of trouble, do you?”

He glanced back to the scuffle, an altercation of sorts transpiring between a blue-haired human, a Trandoshan, and a Mandalorian. It sounded like the start of a poor joke.

“She brings too much attention. You’re sure she’s the one?”

"She walks the life I walked. I have a good feeling. Troubles tend to stick around either way when you are trying to do the right thing."​

The girl reminded me of someone. No, she reminds me more of an amalgamation of people from my past rather than a single figure. There is this aura of bravado around her, like she is still struggling to fathom life, but charges ahead anyway. An 'act first, figure it out later' youthful energy, seize the opportunities and deal with the consequences. I followed the girl towards the Mandalorian.
​

"You are safe for now. My basilisk is watching the entrance. But it'd be best if you come clean, miss. I wouldn't be able to keep them off your back otherwise." He was able, for sure. But it depended on her answer. "And who are your associates?" He nodded toward the white-haired woman and the Ubese at the bar.

Turns out the Mando doesn't actually works for her. I wouldn't say that I'm surprised. But this is a good thing. Clean slate for everyone. The Mando is definitely an experienced one. More than capable, knows the in-and-out of the Outer Rim. Quite a looker too, as I look closer. Not your typical dashing man, yet the rugged edges are definitely alluring. Might be a nice distraction from the disaster dude who is still very much in love with his dead wife. The girl, all the potential in the world. It's like talking to 20 years old me, naive, innocent, eager, idealistic. Two birds, one stone.​

"I am just as curious as you are, Mando, considering that the young lady has been eavesdropping before she was interrupted by the Trandoshan."
​

I took my attention away from the two and glanced at Rocketman, then Arcadian , trying to gauge their reactions. It was supposed to be just the three of us, at least when we takes off to Seswenna. However, as the men of the old said, 'the more, the merrier'. Perhaps they won't be opposed to the idea, if they just take a closer look at them.​

 

[Quinjord Dash]

The desert didn't agree with Quinjord, the last couple of weeks had him chasing bounties across the dunes and through the vast caves of this forsaken planet, his quarry always vanishing like ghosts. The only credits he'd earned since he'd arrived here was a one-day stint assisting a merchant with their fruit peddling. Today he had decided to escape the heat by bunkering down in the local cantina, sipping away at a drink while he monitored the holonet for any potential work.

An alert pinged grabbing Quinjord's attention, it seemed that a certain Indigo haired girl had created a stir robbing the nearby Emporium. Recognition flickered in his mind, he had seen her come in! But where was she now? His eyes scanned the cantina, falling upon her at the bar ... with a Trandoshan behind her, he was too late. Disappointment began to build in Quinjord but was quickly dispersed as he watched the Mandalorian intervene on the girl's behalf "Maybe there's still a chance" he muttered to himself.

He watched as she joined the Mandalorian at his table in the corner, soon joined by a striking lady in white. If the three were all well acquainted, there would be no chance of him grabbing the girl now but a gut feeling told him that an opportunity could present itself.

He just has to be ready.

Niobe Pearce Vren Rook Samia Haast

 

[Samia Haast]

It wasn't a phase. This is who she was now. Beyond the reach of her father. Beyond the pretentions and trappings of material wealth. She was a rebel, a spacer, an independent indigo haired girl.

Freedom tasted sweet. Unlike whiskey.

Samia waved off the waiter. Before she could second guess herself, she grabbed the mando's glass of whiskey and took a heavy swig. It splashed in the back of her throat and burned in her empty belly. She regretted it immediately. She stifled a cough and smiled to hide the pain. Her spacer credentials were still in their infancy; she felt like she needed to compensate.

Samia cleared her throat. "Leo Hunt. Scum of the galaxy," she scowled. "The Emporium guy. Slaver. Power couplings, power cells, catalytic ports, nav chips, you name it and he's got it. He steals people's freedom, I steal what gives him his — money. But I finally got caught." She paused to gauge their reactions. "I need a way off this rock."

Samia finally removed the cap from her head. A mop of matted indigo hair tumbled out. If anyone hadn't recognized her yet, they definitely would now. She swept her bangs from her eyes and extended a pale, slender hand, first to the mando and then to the beautiful woman.

"Samia. Or Sam, if you prefer."

Niobe Pearce | Vren Rook | Arcadian | Quinjord Dash ​

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Niobe Pearce | Samia Haast | Arcadian | Quinjord Dash
GEAR: In Bio

REVELATOR​

Before the girl could say anything, another voice spoke after his questions.

"I am just as curious as you are, Mando, considering that the young lady has been eavesdropping before she was interrupted by the Trandoshan."

His dark eyes found the white-haired woman that had followed the girl to his table. This was fast becoming a bit too crowded for his liking. But he remained leaned back in his seat for now, taking a sip of his whiskey before setting down the tumbler again. But then the girl decided she needed some courage juice to answer the questions and took a very brave gulp of the Galidraani Gold. Vren merely lifted an eyebrow.

"Leo Hunt. Scum of the galaxy," she scowled. "The Emporium guy. Slaver. Power couplings, power cells, catalytic ports, nav chips, you name it and he's got it. He steals people's freedom, I steal what gives him his — money. But I finally got caught."

The Karjr nodded in understanding. He knew of Leo. The Emporium had gained traction in the waning days of the Enclave. Vren himself had tried and failed to root out the scum by himself. He was good, but not-taking-on-an-army-without-blowing-up-a-piece-of-the-planet-again kind of good. Tython had been once too many. Nag still had the small dents in her plating that he couldn't get out from that engagement. And Darth Carnifex was still alive, the damn darjetti. But for now, Vren was content with retiring on Tatooine and occasionally help out folk in need like this girl. His bounty-hunting days were very far behind him.

"I need a way off this rock."

Vren glanced at the striking white-haired woman at this utterance.
"You're the out-of-towner, not me, ma'am. I'll leave this one for you." he told her before taking back his whiskey and taking a sip.

The girl introduced herself then as Samia. He dipped his head at her.
"Vren Rook." he offered. He had no reason to hide who he was. The majority on this rock knew already. But he did raise a brow in question to the other woman. She still hadn't offered who she and her associates were.

The experienced Karjr felt eyes on him. Glancing away from those crowded at his table for a moment, his keen brown gaze scanned the cantina. Not too far from them, a man was watching their congregation. Vren's gaze didn't linger, but his head was already going through options. If he was a friend, he would have looked differently. That left either Emporium or bounty hunter. Hunters he didn't mind too much if their business rang true. But if it brought trouble where he had to sleep at night, he very much minded.

Without moving too much, he sat in a better position.

The man would either be amateur or pro.