Public The Bounty, The Cantina and The Clouds

[Fitz Jarro]

Fitz walked down the ramp of his old, rusty ship and stepped down onto the elevated landing platform. He slowly looked around. The scenery of The City In The Clouds was covered in a thick fog, muddying up the view, hiding countless beautiful presidiums, fountains and buildings, the tallest of which peaked their heads out of the opaque, milky curtain as if to proudly announce their presence to people landing here. It was a foggy morning for in the capital of Bespin. 'Yup... A perfect hiding place.' Fitz thought as he took out a cigarette, lighting it up with a match, which he promptly tossed down onto the ground and extinguished with his boot. 'And my target is out there somewhere... A needle in a bleedin' haystack.' He allowed himself to take in the scenery for a second, the ash from his cigarette entering and exiting his lungs up until he stopped. He tossed the still lit stump left from the cigarette to join the match on the ground, before stomping it out the same way. 'Better get going, I'm not paid by the hour.' He muttered under his breath, putting his right hand on his blaster in its holster, a slight smirk creeping onto his face, before he walked down the stairs from the ramp. The search was on.

***
​

'Oh where is that stupid rhodian!' Fitz nearly shouted, kicking the curb, eliciting a few weird looks from the passers by. He has been searching for his rhodian target, Chifo Neem, for the past hour and a half. He held a few curse words from exiting his mouth and put his hands on his hips, as he looked around, hoping to spot the mark. Instead, what he spotted was a small building, white as all the others around it. What differentiated the building was the writing over the entrance, proudly proclaiming 'The Cantina In The Clouds'. Fitz felt his stomach rumble in a reminder of the fact he hasn't eaten since he left his home planet. He stood there, looking at the building, trying to figure out if he has enough money for a meal, or should he put it towards fuel. As he stood there, he saw him. A rhodian fitting the description of his target walking into the building. His luck had finally turned. Fitz quickly followed. As the door opened before him, he was met with an assortment of people of multiple species, all enjoying their food. His eyes quickly glanced around the room, spotting his target sitting at a table alone in the far corner of the bar. He quickly ordered a meal and sat down at a table nearby Chifo. He smiled as he started digging in, only to hear someone clear their throat right in front of him. In his haste and efforts to not be seen by the target, he forgot to check if the table he sat down by was unoccupied.
Fitz slowly looked up from his plate and put on his friendliest smile.
'Bollocks...'

 

[Tryk Zhot]

​

Chifo Neem.

Tryk had been tracking him for two days. He'd made inquiries about the man's habits. Bribed transit officials to reveal the man's movements. And now he'd found a table near the Rhodian, at a restaurant that was purported to be one of his regular haunts in the area.

All was going according to plan.

Until a human sat at his table.

Tryk was used to being overlooked- literally- by taller species. He either stood out or was completely invisible, depending on the environs and the individual.

Today, it seemed invisibility was his lot.

The Jawa cleared his throat, which came out in a deep, modulated sound on account of his Vocoder mask.

"Not Bollocks. This Tryk table. You not Tryk."

That seemed plain enough.

Just in case it wasn't, Tryk drew his Ion pistol and leveled it at the man, under the tabletop.

Then a thought occurred to him. Maybe this wasn't a chance encounter, but something influenced by proximal interests.

"You hunter? This one mine."


Fitz Jarro

 

[Chessashai Umianai]

Location: The Cantina in the Clouds, booth with Chifo Neem
⋆ Purse - Credits, small holoprojector, comlink
​

Chessa had only accepted the invitation because of the two hour sunsets on Bespin, it was a pretty sight and after all, she was rather bored. The only complaint she had was how ridiculous the cantina name was, 'The Cantina in the Clouds', she couldn't even help but to roll her eyes upon seeing the building in person. "It's not even the best cantina in town..." Chessa muttered under her breath as she entered. The singer noticed the differences in the crowd, some were high class but most were the typical middle class of Cloud City. The cantina itself wasn't as comparable to the ones in Coruscants upper levels but it certainly was a breath of fresh air from her new office in Nar Shaddaa. Her office was rather small and most of the clubs and cantinas in the smugglers moon felt like stuffy bombs of neon and grime.

The individual that had commissioned her to sing was a Rodian, he called himself Chim, which the mirialan had reason to believe was not in fact, his name. He offered a fair price, and it didn't seem ridiculously shady, so she did not mind at all.

Chessas eyes lit up as she saw her patron sitting alone, she smiled and approached him. As she sat down to talk to him, Chessa noticed a few faces turn to look at her briefly. It's nice to know some people have a good music taste in this city, she thought to herself.


Fitz Jarro Tryk Zhot

 

[Fitz Jarro]

Fritz looked up from his plate to see a jawa sitting at the other end of the table. He smiled as his interlocutor misunderstood his comment, opening his mouth to correct him of his intentions, maybe even talk it out and laugh about it. His plans changed the second he heard the little jawa unholstering a weapon and pointing it at him. He slowly raised his hands above his bowl of gruel-adjacent brown food, the cheapest meal they had, to show Tryk he has no weapons in his hands. His lips curled into a smile akin to that of a businessman. Because that's what he intended to do: Talk business.

"Ah, a fellow professional, I see. Tryk. A very nice name." He began, slowly lowering his hands towards the table and grabbing the cutlery and stuffing it back into the food. "Well, you see, I've also been trying to get ahold of our... mutual friend for a while. I got this far and I don't intend to lose the money spent getting here. You see, I'm working on a bit of a tight budget..." He raised a spoon to his mouth and swallowed the small portion, while his right hand, making use of the fact Tryk would have to keep his eyes on the cutlery to look out for an eventual attack, lowered it below the table and pulled out his blaster, aiming it at the small Jawa. He swallowed the food as he looked at the Jawa with a smile. He used a piece of cloth from a pocket in his vest to clean his moustache before continuing with a slight smirk. "How about we strike a deal, yeah? How about we help each other? Because we'd both hate getting the attention of our friend here, and if you shoot, I shoot, a big mess, yeah? We go halfsies on the bounty and we both get to live to enjoy the money, sound fair, lil' man?" Fitz smiled.

Tryk Zhot

 

[Tryk Zhot]

The Cantina in the Clouds​

It wasn't the eating that cost Tryk his advantage. Not the movement of spoon, or the sloshing of a bowl of... whatever that man was eating.

No... it was the woman.

She had no fur. And she was too tall. So she shouldn't have been anything to look at.

But beauty could sometimes transcend species' programmed biological preferences. Some creatures were so stunningly attractive that they could light your imagination aflame without appealing to the primitive urging of one's endocrine system. That was the sort of woman this was... and she'd sat right down next to their target.

By the time Tryk pulled his gleaming yellow gaze back to his competitor, he'd fallen into a Mandalorian Standoff.

Fair?

No, it wasn't fair.

But Tryk had learned long ago not to argue with reality.

"Fine," came a deep, modulated tone that seemed inappropriate for such a small creature.

"But Tryk not little. Tryk big for Jawa."

That was perhaps like saying you were hot for an ice-cube.

Slowly, making sure the human did the same, Tryk re-holstered his weapon.

"You name?" Tryk asked, then followed with, "You guild?"

If the man was a guild bounty hunter, there might be some recourse if he betrayed Tryk.

Then the Jawa nodded to the Rhodian's table, "Girl sit with mark. Girl too nice for low-end loser. Maybe Chifo more important than thought."

In fact, Tryk knew precious little about Chifo after his two days of investigation.

His eyes scanned the rest of the cantina, and certain faces leapt out at him.

Other Rhodians.

Primarily in the staff.

"Tryk got bad feeling about this."



Fitz Jarro
Chessashai Umianai

 

[Chessashai Umianai]

Location:
The Cantina in the Clouds, booth with Chifo Neem

⋆ Purse -
Credits, small holoprojector, comlink​

Chessa proceeded to make small talk with the rodian, he seemed quite uneasy and impatient. She even offered to take a walk outside before her performance and he declined without hesitation. The poor singer felt defeated, was she doing something wrong? A part of Chessa wanted to call him out for being rude but she decided it would be best to stay silent. The time for her performance was nearing, it was clear as more individuals entered the cantina. Chessa wondered if this Chim guy had some sort of organization considering how the newcomers were all... Rodians. It was even more strange as some of the high class customers eating their meals became visibly uncomfortable by their presence, Chessa didn't blame them though, they didn't quite look like good news.

She asked him if there was a specific song he'd want her to perform, in Rodese, he replied, "Give it your best," and slid her a purse that would of seemed like an act of wooing but was rather a form of payment. "Of course darlin' ," Credits were the best way to shut her up and comply, business she called it.

The singer leaned in her seat, watching the cantina and it's customers- and a certain someone caught her eye. As realization hit her, a chuckle escaped from her, was that a jawa? Here?

Fitz Jarro Tryk Zhot

 

[Fitz Jarro]

Fitz noticed the woman walking by, quickly glancing towards her as she passed by, but not long enough to lose his focus from the confrontation with the jawa. He smiled as the jawa conceded, but didn't holster his pistol. 'Name's Fitz, no guild, pleasure to meet ya, big man.' He said in a lower voice, making sure the words reached only the small alien sitting across the table from him.

He holstered his weapon at the same time as Tryk, before nodding at his comment regarding the woman. 'Yup... This place doesn't exactly look like a five star locale...' He nodded, as the small alien started looking around. Fitz quickly followed his new companion's example, taking a quick look around the building.

His smile got taken over with a slight frown of wariness, as he noticed the bar slowly shifting from a varied clientelle to rhodians taking up a majority of the joint. He tried to eavesdrop on the conversation happening at the table behind him, between the tall mirialan beauty and the shorter, green rhodian, who now seemed more important than just a run of the mill bounty. All he could hear was small talk, unimportant to him. He started wondering what was the woman's relation to Neem. She seemed to be just a singer, but if she's talking to Neem, that means this joint is his, which means... This could be a gang hideout, with Neem as it's leader, or at least an important officer.

'Bollocks, what did I get into now...?' Rang through Fitz's mind as he heard the jawa from across the table. 'Tryk got bad feeling about this.' To which he looked back at the fellow bounty hunter. 'Right there with ya, big man...'


Tryk Zhot Chessashai Umianai

 

[Tryk Zhot]

Tryk noted the exchange of something between their mark and the young woman.

A gift?

She was probably a non-combatant.

Most of the clientele probably only cared about themselves.

But the Rodians....

"Bounty Legal. Not worry about Cops," Tryk said, "but we do this here, maybe trouble. We not do this here, maybe lose him.

Also, maybe Tryk not trust you after leave here.

Maybe you cross Tryk. Try take bounty yourself."

This Fitz wasn't a guild member. He might not follow any rules.

The beautiful young woman briefly made eye contact with Tryk. It gave him a little thrill to be noticed., but he immediately chastised himself for it. Being noticed was bad. And no way a girl like that gave one scintilla of sand about a Jawa, except as a curiosity.

He returned his attention to Fitz, "What you want do?"



Chessashai Umianai
Fitz Jarro

 

[Chessashai Umianai]

A few more moments of awkward silence passed, the Rodian tapped on the purse laying on the table. Confused, Chessa took it and opened the clasp, revealing a smooth container of giggledust. The singer immediately closed the purse and looked up at the rodian with mixed emotions. This fella was full of red flags, the whole lot of it was a red flag. The rodian tilted his head to look at the booth near them, the singer knew what her job was now.

She could now understand she was a distraction in some sort of plan, and she did not want to be a liability to this shady guy. By now, mostly everyone was done with eating and were moving on to just drinks. The orange light of the sunset was gleaming through the tall windows and entrance, it gave the whole cantina a warm glow.

Grabbing her new purse, she stood up to walk over to the table the rodian looked at. "Hey darlin's, I don't think I've seen the either of ya before? Looking for an autograph?" she smiled at the human and the jawa, hoping to distract them as the rodian got up from his original seat and walked into the cantinas crowd. Showtime was only minutes away by now.

Tryk Zhot Fitz Jarro

 

[Fitz Jarro]

Fitz' brain was working overtime, trying to come up with the best plan of action. At least he wasn't alone in this situation. He was about to open his mouth to clue his bounty hunter friend in, before he heard footsteps approach their booth. He looked up from his thoughts and he saw the mirialan woman from earlier smiling over the duo of unlikely partners, offering an autograph.

He looked the woman overm trying to assess if she was a threat. Her form fitting black dress, while pleasant to the eye, could be hiding a thigh holster with a small blaster. After a quick lookover, which he was desperately trying to mask as him checking the woman out, he smiled politely. 'Scuse me miss, I don't believe I caught your name.' Fitz looked up at the woman's face, her white tattoo and black eyes vying for the attention of anyone who'd look at her face. He'd be lying if he said she wasn't beautiful, but he chased any thoughts of the nature away, trying to keep his focus on the assignment at hand.

'I assume you're the star of the cantina tonight. And if not, then you should be miss.' He sent the woman a wink, hoping to keep her attention on him to give Tryk an opportunity to sneak out, or keep an eye on the target. 'You see, we're here in regards to a business venture regarding mister Neem, who I couldn't help but notice you've conversed with.' He looked up, keeping up the casual tone. 'Is there any chance you could introduce us?'


Tryk Zhot Chessashai Umianai

 

[Tryk Zhot]

Tryk was surprised when the beautiful young woman approached their table.

But he was not so self-deluded as to believe he'd caught her eye in any way beneficial to him.

She offered an autograph. Tryk's new partner struck up a dialogue.

But Tryk's gaze shifted from the alluring woman to the target of today's escapade. Chifo was getting away!

"Mbokne Ancok!" the vocoder mask gratefully declined to translate the slur, "she's Chaff!"

Chaff- a distribution of shiny metal foil designed to create a radar signature to confuse incoming missiles. They'd been made, and this beauty was the countermeasure!

Tryk bolted to his feet- sort of. He pushed off of his chair and fell a short distance to the floor. The little guy's feet didn't quite touch the ground when he was sitting on a normal-sized chair.

Then he charged into the crowd, trying to ensure their target didn't slip away.

It was only as he found himself in the middle of pressed bodies that Tryk realized the crowd was liberally sprinkled with Rodians.

Armed Rodians, with blasters tucked into their belts.

Too many Rodians to be a coincidence.

A Rodian-centric crime family? Possibly. This whole cantina might be theirs, actually. Cantinas were frequent fronts and even headquarters for criminal gangsters.

Had they just tracked a gangster mark to his criminal lair, and found themselves in his trap, rather than about to spring one of their own?



Fitz Jarro
Chessashai Umianai

 

[Chessashai Umianai]

She was clearly annoyed at the young man, too much darn starin', she placed a hand on her hip, "It's Chessa Bossa, such a shame you don't recognize me," the singer said, her gaze lingering on him for a moment. Blaster holsters weren't exactly out of place, but this guy- and the jawa seemed like trouble.

The little jazz ensemble began to play a tune, background noise for now. Her gaze diverted to the jawa who seemed to have said something without a translation, she rolled her eyes as the jawa got away. However, it wasn't exactly her problem, "I think you have the wrong guy darlin', his name is Chim and a sweetheart," Chessa replied, looking directly into the mans eyes with a hint of seriousness. At this point she had finally realized who the Rodian was, Chifo Neem... she felt ridiculous for not recognizing the bounty sooner. To be fair, it wasn't like she paid much attention to the smaller bounties.

At this point she wished she had brought a blaster of sorts, all she had was a small vibrobalde tucked on her upper arm, hidden beneath her white dress shawl cover. Chessa walked away from the man at the table and made her way to the jazz ensemble, as soon as they saw her they began a different tune, perfect for her.

The funny thing about it all was that it made her feel sort of nostalgic, it reminded her of her teen years when she would run off to different villages to sing in cantinas and then fights and duels would break out. The difference between then and now was that this wasn't just any sort of small town thing, it was something that could go terribly wrong. Fun. Hopefully she could get through her song without blasters going crazy...

"Sometimes when I
Wanna run away and hide
When there's no one on my side
And all my pride had disappeared...


Fitz Jarro Tryk Zhot

 

[Fitz Jarro]

Fitz kept up his polite smile, even as the woman left. With the distraction over, he glanced towards Tryk, only to discover he was no longer by the table. The man's forehead wrinkled slightly, as he turned around towards the booth where the target talked with Chessa, only to notice he was nowhere to be found as well. 'Oh for the love of...'

He quickly looked around the cantina, the rodian customers slowly pushing out the others, before catching a glimpse of a small figure clad in a dark red cloak shoving and maneuvering his its way through the crowd. Tryk. The young bounty hunter resisted the urge to cuss himself out for losing sight of the bounty and followed the cloak, bumping into a few of the clients, exchanging awkward apologies along the way. At least the music was nice. 'Maybe I shouldn't have refused the autograph...' He thought to himself.

Tryk had followed the rodian to the door labeled 'Staff only', which Chifo Neem went through without hesitation. Fitz got there a few moments later, his vest now stained slightly with an orange drink of one of the patrons he bumped into. He looked towards the jawa, one hand hovering nearby his blaster, before pointing with his head towards the door. 'I doubt he doesn't have any security in there... How do you want to do this, big man?'

Tryk Zhot Chessashai Umianai

 

[Tryk Zhot]

Tryk looked over his houlder at the many people in the club, listening to one of the most beautiful voices he had ever experienced. He wished that circumstances were different, and he could listen in peace. The melody was somewhat haunting, evoking a time when he had been alone and afraid...

No time for that now.

Many of the people in this club were Rodians. It might be specist, but Tryk had suspicions about a Rodian crime family being at work here.

"Security Outside room, too, Tryk think," he noted aloud, then reached for his multi-tool.

"Tryk unlock door. Fitz watch back. Then we go in. Tryk go High, you go Low."

It was a simple plan, and probably one that didn't make sense to the human.

Tryk began to remove the cover plate of the door's electronic keypad- an old security mechanism that was easy to bypass. If you didn't know the code, you could still bypass the pad, shunt current to the door servos, and make the door open as though a proper code had been entered.

If you couldn't untie a knot, just cut it open.

But as Tryk worked, one of the nearby Rodians took note of the illicit entry and drew a weapon.

"You! What are you doing?!"

Another Rodian looked at the beautiful singer, "It's the ones after Chif! I think she's working with them, I saw them talking," He began to draw a blaster of his own.

Apparently, Chifo Neem hadn't managed to explain much to his compatriots before his flight to the back room. They were just reacting to anything that seemed remotely odd or out of place.

A third Rodian grabbed an innocent patron who was just trying to enjoy his meal, "This one came in just before they did! I bet they're together. What did Chif do, anyway?"

"Take them out back," a fourth Rodian said, apparently the senior of the others present, "we'll sort it out there. if they resist, shoot 'em and throw 'em off the edge."

They weren't referring to the back-room offices where Chifo was, but rather to the rear exit of the building. Behind the cantina, a balcony overlooked the endless drop below the Cloud City. It was a frequent disposal site for unwanted characters.

​

Fitz Jarro
Chessashai Umianai

 

[Dia Secura]

Tagging: Fitz Jarro Chessashai Umianai Tryk Zhot

A third Rodian grabbed an innocent patron who was just trying to enjoy his meal, "This one came in just before they did! I bet they're together. What did Chif do, anyway?"

The innocent patron was no he at all, and she certainly wasn't all that innocent, except in regards to the current happenings. Up to this moment, Dia Secura had simply been trying to enjoy the first real meal she'd eaten in a long time. It wasn't great food by any means, but it was hot and it didn't come from a box. That had been good enough for the Twi'lek.

As the Rodian's long fingers grasped her shoulders, an undignified yelp left her cyan lips. That sound of surprise devolved into desperate coughing as a half-chewed bite of food got lodged in her throat.

"Take them out back," a fourth Rodian said, apparently the senior of the others present, "we'll sort it out there. if they resist, shoot 'em and throw 'em off the edge."

With a harsh hack, the half-eaten food spilled from her lips, and the Twi'lek shook her head hard enough to whip her lekku around. "Wait, wait-- this is-- I don't know these guys, I swear!"

 

[Chessashai Umianai]

The Mirialan singer was barely about to finish her song until she was rudely cut off by sudden commotion, the music awkwardly stopped as Chessa was forced off stage by a rodian pointing his blaster at her. Some individuals in the crowd hollered to keep the music going, and so it did, just without a singer. Despite being held at gunpoint, Chessa couldn't help but to roll her eyes at the idiocy of the entire situation that she could have avoided if simply her patron had mentioned her in whatever he was planning.

Even a random bystander got pulled up into the mess, "I've never met any of these idiots-" she stopped her sentence as she felt the cool touch of a blaster into her back, "Ugh! Alright alright..." Chessa muttered, feeling defeated. She gave the Twi'lek an apologetic look, Chessa had an idea of what she had to do to get herself out of the situation. Credits were freedom, or, in cases such as this, information. True or false, it didn't matter.

As soon as the Rodian escorted them to the rear exit Chessa spoke up once again, whispering to the Rodian that had escorted her, "Did Chim tell you of the plan?" she said in a much sweeter tone. The singer figured if she could talk about Chifo in an endearing way it could perhaps pass her off as someone close to him, it was simply the art of desperate gaslighting at its finest. The Rodian looked at her with caution, he wasn't the typical dummy that Chessa could have hoped for but he still listened to her whispers. "The twi'lek is with them! Not me... Grot pleno ka avaro, oh heh, Chifo, spulta?" she was extremely lucky for remembering a Rodese line she had heard of from a drama series. The Rodian turned to look at the other girl, he was actually considering what Chessa said.

Spoiler

Grot pleno ka [Chifo] spulta?- Or would you like to explain to [name] personally?
Avaro- Male Rodian name/nickname, means charming

Fitz Jarro Tryk Zhot Dia Secura

 

[Fitz Jarro]

Suddenly, Fitz had found his hands held behind his back by a large rodian with one hand, a blaster pointed at his back. 'No, no, no, no! Of course Jawa got caught...' He thought as he instinctively twisted his neck slightly over his shoulder. He smiled slightly and spoke 'Hey, hey no need for the roughhousing! I remember where the door is, I can just... Walk out on my own, yeah? I was just here on a business venture!' He winked at the rodian, his interlocutor's black eyes betraying no sudden change of heart other than a new hint of mild annoyence within.

Fitz sighed, as he noticed the overzealous handling of the situation by the guards. They somehow thought the singer from before and a random twi'lek bystander were co-conspirators with them, so arguing he doesn't know Tryk wouldn't work. For now, he just kept up a smile and kept up the smile, hoping it would convince either the people being hauled with him to be shot, or at least beaten severely, or the guards that he was just calm and had nothing to hide. In reality, his brain was working on full power, as the man tried to come up with an escape plan... And that's when it happened. The perfect moment.

Once they crossed the door leading out back, it sliding close behind them silently, the noises of the commotion in the cantina went silent. 'Soundproof door... Easy to hide what's going on in the back. Either very lucky or unlucky for us.' As they walked, he also noticed the massive rodian holding him had a limp, probably of an old injury. Inside his head, a plan hatched. He just needed an opportunity to execute it. A spark to light the fire. And that's when the opportunity came in the form of a beautiful mirialan singer, striking up a conversation with one of the guards escorting them in rodese. He never learned the language, so he had no idea what it was she said, but whatever it was, it caught the attention of all the guards. They slightly turned their heads to her, and then to each other, as if pondering what to do with the man, jawa, mirialan and twi'lek. Fitz took a deep breath. What he was about to do was risky, some may even call it stupid or reckless. But hey... That's the fun way to live.

Fitz quickly kicked the rodian holding him in the leg which was injured, causing him to yelp in surprise and pain as he fell on his knee. The bounty hunter's now free fingers quickly found his blaster, deftly unholstering it and shooting the kneeling security guard, the blaster bolt going clean through his head. Fitz smiled, as he knew the countless bodyguards in the cantina didn't hear the struggle because of the soundproof walls and doors. He sought to aim another shot at one of the other guards before his first victim's warm body even hit the ground, aiming to not harm any prisoners. He pulled the trigger, aiming not so much with his sight, but more with his instinct, and pulled the trigger.


Tryk Zhot Chessashai Umianai Dia Secura

 

[Tryk Zhot]

"Fitz Watch Back."

It had seemed a simple enough instruction, but somehow the human had botched it. Rodians poured out of the woodwork. Soon they were both being rounded up- along with a random stranger from the cantina and that gorgeous, duplicitous lady who had been used to distract them while the mark got away.

Shuffled off, out the backdoor.

Through a door that severed them from the inside of the cantina like a headsman's axe.

The winds were strong. A strange odor tainted the air, residue of the valuable gasses to be found on this world. The entire city hovered above a plentitude of riches the likes of which Tryk could only dream of.

Tryk glanced at his fellow prisoners, then looked over the side of the balcony at the eternal fall that surely awaited them.

That's when Fitz made his move.

At least the human was good for something.

Tryk didn't hesitate. A pulse of energy made an audible tone at his feet, and he went flying through the air at one of the nearby Rodians who was distracted by Fitz' resistance. Jawas were neither very big nor very strong, but soaring through the air at thirty-miles-per-hour had its own value. He put his shoulder into one of the Rodian guards, a metallic pauldron cracking his snout.

Then he went tumbling against the wall beside the doorway that had brought them here, bouncing like a ball and rolling to the floor of the balcony. A trail of blaster bolts followed his movements. One of the Rodians was trying to get a bead on the Jawa Jumping Bean.


Fitz Jarro
Chessashai Umianai
Dia Secura

 

[Chessashai Umianai]

Location: Stairs to second level
​

Chessa cursed in her native language as soon as the human started blasting. Obviously, she had no choice but to switch sides to the bounty hunters since she had no muscle at all and she wasn’t planning on dying because of some idiot Rodians. Unfortunately, Chessa Bossa had the role of mistress in distress for today.

She yelped in surprise as she saw the Jawa jump at one of the Rodians, it was rather impressive and unexpected. In quick haste, Chessa got away from the dangerous balcony and went straight for a wall in attempts to avoid getting in between the bounty hunters fighting. The singer desperately wanted to get out of there but she simply knew there was absolutely no way she could even sneak through the crowd in the cantina unnoticed. Perhaps there was another exit amongst the hallways they had gone through earlier?

A Rodian that went for her suddenly dropped dead from blaster bolts. “Ugh… gross,” she said as she stepped away from the corpse. Chessa did like violence but that was only under the circumstances of safely spectating and betting, being amongst the violence was certainly horrible. Getting blood on her dresses and trying to get them cleaned up probably cost much more than a casket. The thought made her shudder…

All the Mirialan had on her was a purse full of spice and a small vibroblade up her sleeve, Chessa felt utterly useless. She looked at the door in contemplation, how hard could it be to find a second exit? Without even looking back at the two bounty hunters, she bolted straight for the door and went into the hallway. It was probably the biggest mistake she had done, she didn’t even know which one of the doors lead back to the main cantina area.

“Dank ferrik…” Chessa muttered under her breath as she headed towards the stairs to the second level. Perhaps it was best to simply try to jump out of a window at this point, but unfortunately she did not know what terrible things awaited her on the second level.


Fitz Jarro Tryk Zhot

 

[Fitz Jarro]

Blaster shots rang out in the room, one after another, some aiming at the running mirialan, some at the jawa bouncing around the room, and some at the human, who was doing his damned best to not get shot. 'Dank farrik!' He exclaimed as he barely dodged out of the way of another blaster bolt, returning fire and hitting the firing rodian with a bolt of his own, leaving the alien to collapse on the floor with a fresh hole in the throat. The fight lasted for a short while, but Fitz was already exhausted. There was no cover to speak of, just an open corridor with two doors and a balcony, forcing the bounty hunter to duck, dive and roll to avoid the laser bolts. For an onlooker, it might have even looked funny, but it certainly was not like that to Fitz. In the corner of his eye, Fitz spotted the mirialan singer making her way towards one of the doors, and then runnning up the stairs.

'Oy! I wouldn't-' He tried shouting, but another shot missing his face by centimetres shut him up and forced him to focus on the combat. 'Just two more goons... Come on...' He thought as he aimed his blaster again, squeezing the trigger.

Chessashai Umianai Tryk Zhot

(I'm sorry for the long break, at first I was waiting for Dia Secura to make their move, and then my university responsibilities caught up to me. Once again, I am so sorry for making you lot wait! The wait will be shorter for my replies from now on, I promise <3)