Cenn Kothari
ComMandolorian
Smoke clouded the ceiling of this seedy bar of Coruscant, it left the whole room with a foul taste, infiltrating even the sweetest of drinks. But a place like this was good for business. Hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses set the tone. Soft, calming, music flooded from circular speakers evenly spaced around, muffling the conversations of many, added privacy.
Sitting at an empty table rested a fatigued Mandalorian, which nursed a glass of cheap wine, swirling it about idly. Clothed in worn combat fatigues with an Alliance rifle resting across his lap, Cenn waited patiently. Anyone that was anyone knew the ex-pathfinder was looking for a capable pilot, though for what remains unclear. The few that have approached have turned down his offer, taking their procured drinks elsewhere.
[member="Alexander Kalden"]
Sitting at an empty table rested a fatigued Mandalorian, which nursed a glass of cheap wine, swirling it about idly. Clothed in worn combat fatigues with an Alliance rifle resting across his lap, Cenn waited patiently. Anyone that was anyone knew the ex-pathfinder was looking for a capable pilot, though for what remains unclear. The few that have approached have turned down his offer, taking their procured drinks elsewhere.
[member="Alexander Kalden"]