Private Sands of Justice

[Vren Rook]

MOS EISLEY | TATOOINE
TAG: Ranna Sejast
GEAR: In Bio

DESERT COURAGE​

Home.

He needed to escape back home for a little while. Just to breathe. He had been drowning in overwhelming situations lately. The War wasn't going to wait for him. He needed to take the moment while he had it. And Kestri's snow and ice didn't help his mood.

With Siv Dragr out in the Galaxy, he could only leave Guild matters to the next best thing - Siv's son, Sahan Dragr - for the few days he would be off-world. He was the only one who knew Vren would be gone. The veteran just needed to not be Guildmaster for a brief moment.

So he fled to his actual home on Tatooine.

"Goergie!" Vren cried happily after he hopped down from Nag into the yard of his ranch homestead. He knelt down, holding open his arms as a Massiff bounded excitedly towards him, a repurposed Cernr Droid following him.
://: It is good to see you, Master Rook. ://: the droid said as he got close.
"Likewise, Hector. Everything fine here?" Vren asked as he rumpled Georgie's face.
://: I suggest you go see for yourself in town, Sir. ://: Hector answered as solemnly as a droid could.
Vren sighed. "All right. I'll be back a bit later then." he said, getting to his feet. "Be a good boy, Georgie." he told the Massiff before jumping back into Nag. "You heard him, Girl." he told the basilisk.
://: It never ends here, doesn't it? ://: she asked rhetorically before flying off toward Mos Eisley.

The Cantina was almost quiet compared to the usual. There were a lot of tables empty. Vren approached the bar with a frown.
"What's going on, Bost?" he asked the barman.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Things changed since you left. Syndicate moved in. Running almost everything. Even starting up the slave trade again." the Bothan barman said, light returning to his eyes when he greeted Vren.
"Great. Where's the Chief?" he asked about the leader of the syndicate.
"Square, busy overseeing the rounding up of citizens for trading."
Vren sighed. He just couldn't escape keeping the law alive.
"Wish me luck." he said.
"I'll have a bottle of Galidraani Whiskey waiting for you." Bost said.

The square was bustling with onlookers and what could only be a bunch of syndicate thugs were acting as a barrier between the people and the stage upon which stood a couple of people and a large Devaronian. This operation was bigger than he thought. He was good, but not that good. Not alone. If he involved Nag, then half the town would be flattened. She wasn't exactly small and didn't have small guns either.

He needed an ally.

 

[Ranna Sejast]

Vren Rook
Gear in Bio

Tatooine was a place that every mercenary visited at least once in their career. Everybody always said as much and usually had a story or two making Ranna think it'd be an interesting place to check out, maybe pick up another tale of her own. What nobody ever said was that Tatooine was the low point of their career.

She'd barely left the space port before witnessing a stabbing. Some people even had the decency to cry out. Most seemed too defeated already to even really react. For her part Ranna gave serious consideration to just turning around and leaving, but hey, spaceports were often in the bad parts of town. Instead she went back to Sin's Tangent, strapped on her blast vest and a second pistol, covered them with a light cloak that'd hopefully keep the sun off, and as an after thought grabbed her rifle. Finally she added her medkit to the back of her belt. She was here, might as well see it through, maybe cover fuel and hanger fees. And if she got a job, no point in coming back for her full kit later.

She didn't want people thinking she was looking for a fight, but sometimes you had to be to avoid one. Or at least be ready when the inevitable one started if you didn't want to roll over and give everything up, and she preferred keeping her dignity. And her creds.

A few hours later and she'd learned a few things. There wasn't a job board like most places, in this town all that mattered was who you knew and who knew you. Most of her offers had been debasing at best, a few that stank of traps, and one that would see the Hutt Cartel slapping a huge bounty on her head even if she survived.

Mulling things over, she made her way to a cantina she'd passed earlier. Inside was much more pleasant, the air almost passed for cool and the sudden absence of wind made her realize how loud it'd actually been outside. At the bar she ordered a Moogan and something to eat before taking a seat at one of the many open tables. Since she had her pick, she chose one with a good view of the place and a wall at her back where she leaned up her rifle.

"Thanks," she told the barkeep when he brought her order. He nodded and replied "Brost," before making his way back behind the bar. The spacer eventually decided something was up, the food was decent and the alcoholic tea even better, no way this place should be this empty even for early dinner. Actually the whole town seemed messed up somehow. Over her dinner she decided she'd stick around a bit, if her plaits didn't mark her as an outsider, her clothes certainly did. Maybe after a few drinks the bartender would be more willing to talk with her if it stayed this slow.

 

[Vren Rook]

MOS EISLEY | TATOOINE
TAG: Ranna Sejast
GEAR: In Bio

DESERT COURAGE​

Vren made his way back to the cantina.

"You find him?" asked Brost as the Karjr approached the bar.
"I did." said Vren, leaning on the bar. "Place is crawling with his lackeys."
"Can't you use Nag?" the Bothan inquired.
"Nah. She'd have to flatten the place to get to them all. There'll be craters wherever those lasers hit." he said as he looked around the bar. "I'll need more conventional backup for this." His eyes lingered on a woman in a corner for a moment, creasing his brow. Her face was new.

"You going to contact the Enclave?" asked Brost.
"Maybe." said Vren before looking back at the Bothan. "That one of the Devaronian's enforcers?" he asked quietly then, motioning with his eyes toward the newcomer.
"Haven't seen her before. Just came in. So I don't think so. Probably a merc or bounty hunter of some kind looking for a job." said Brost, shaking his head slightly.
Vren's eyes flicked to the rifle propped up against the wall. "Think she can handle that?" he asked, looking back at Bost.
"Only one way to find out, partner."
The Karjr scowled at the Bothan before turning and walking over to the woman.

"You know how to use that thing properly?" he asked, standing across the table from her, motioning at the rifle. Even though he wasn't wearing a helmet, it would have been clear what he was.

She could be a good an ally as any if she was capable.

 

[Ranna Sejast]

The dinner plate sat empty save for the juices left smeared about it and Ranna was just contemplating the last of her moogan tea when an armored figure strode in. The shift in attention was immediate and Ranna shifted her weight in her seat to match, getting ready to draw if need be. Still, it didn't seem like the few patrons who'd chosen to shelter in the cantina were afraid of this man. Not that he looked reputable in any sense of the word and Ranna was forced to wonder if he'd murdered his armor's last occupant. This was Tatooine after all. Amazing hair though.

The man made his way over to Brost as she watched without looking directly at them, just following with her eyes. The bartender seemed at ease with him as they quietly talked, looked in her direction, went back to talking. She couldn't hear what they were saying but she was pretty sure it was about her. Quietly her right hand slipped under the table while her left scooped up her dink for another draw.

The two seemed to finish their conversation and now the armored figure made his way to stand across the table from her. "You know how to use that thing properly?"
She resisted the urge to look towards the rifle leaning against the wall and away from him. "How do you think I paid for this meal?" She looked back up at him, expression mild yet unafraid, glass slowly being spun back and forth in her hand. The last of her tea chasing its own dregs in the bottom of it. No challenge for him to make a thing of it. Just waiting.
Vren Rook