This is my bar now (The Red Devil Cartel)

[RC 212]

Nar Shaada, The Red Draft​

​

​

The place was alive with the smell of spice and alchohol. Had she still been a drifter Hala might have indulged, except she wasn't here to indulge. No she was here to take this place over and use it as her base of operations for Nar Shadda.

Today was the first day of her little Swoop Gangs plans.

Hala had put out an add for folks to join them on the Holonet. The signal was to come in a black vest, and to nod her way when they entered. The payoff? Credits and lot's more if they stayed on.

After a brief stint in the Outer Rim Coalition she'd come back to her old stomping grounds. Clad in nothing except her brown spacers clothes and black vest she walked through the door and sized up the room. There was bar dead center, with tables and booths arranged in a semicircle.

Towards the back there was heavy door, flanked by two fellas in black power armor with big ol repeaters. She herself was running with her two sidekicks a Wookie named Shal'Bacca and her Rodian pal Drexal. From her hips dangled two Magnetic Acceleration Psitols.

Drexal had chosen to go with a disruptor, and Shal...well.

He liked swinging a huge War Hammer around and crushing skulls.

They were nothing fancy to look at, but the sheer size of the Wookie turned folks eyes in their direction. Hala tucked her hands into her belt and lead her two friends to the corner. Kicking out a seat she plopped down and drew one mag pistol, placing it flat on the table.

Drexal and Shal took their own seats, ordering a round of whiskeys.

"You guys ready for this?" She asked.

"Rwoooooor!"

"I'm ready, where’s the backup though?" Drexal asked.

"They know the place, the time and the signal. If they show up cool. If not....well I got the guy on the left."

"And the door?"

Hala hefted a shaped charge and grinned, flashing it to the Rodian.

"I got the master key for that buddy."

 

[Kitty]

"Howww the heck do you keep track of all that alchohl. Like there are sooooo many and sooooo many different combination names. There are prolly more drinks den dere.......than ships in the universe." Said a young Felecatian to the bartender who was kind of ignoring her at this point and she didn't seem to care he wasn't responding to her. She was pretty looking but nobody was sitting with her. Her fur was matted from neglect and her left shoulder strap had slipped off her left shoulder her shirt threatening to fall partially and leave her more indecent than she already was. You wouldn't guess she was a Felecatian and not because of her clear drunken condition. She more closely resembled a Cathar. Only a single mostly finished beer sat next to her on the bar. It would be hard to believe that was all it took to bring her to this condition but she was an extreme light weight when it came to alcohol.

Kitty was here simply because she didn't know what to do with herself. The fight with her master and Ryn hadn't gone very well. Kitty hadn't heard from Ryn for a long time and like wise she couldn't bring herself to make first contact with him. She wasn't going to fall in the same depressed state he rescued her from before. The sith weren't what they once were and even the assassins were all doing their own thing at this point.

Kitty's ear pivoted to catch someone placing a gun on a table. It wasn't unusual in a place like this but the assassin was always aware of her surroundings, a curse of her hyper senses and a result of her upbringing. What held her attention was the rough group around the gun and especially the shaped charge that was so blatantly exposed.

Rising from her seat she began heading towards the table the trio were making their exchange at. Even in this condition art of the small was so automatic for her, her force presence was non existent. Now that her small figure was standing the two lightsabers at her hips were more visible. It wasn't too uncommon for people to bring in fake sabers to try and give themselves status and the fact Kitty was carrying two made it seem like she was over compensating for those who suspected as much. "You guys...you shouldn't...you....you shouldn't be flashing us with your goodies...your weapons. I'm trying to relax here. People are....we're trying to relax here and we can't do that with you showing off your stupid fancy gear."

[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim had been sitting in the corner waiting for his drink. The group here is far too rowdy for Jim's taste but their homebrewed lum. To die for, The waitress came back nervously.

"I am SO sorry sir," The waitress came back saying. "What did you order again?"

"Look doll," Jim said calmly. "Lum on the rocks, shaken not stirred."

"Right away sir, sorry for the delay." Jim didn't mind, he was about to get a drink and a show.

A young feline woman stood up towards the particularly rowdy group, one of the members had just layed a blaster pistol on their table. she seemed to be furious at the group. Not only was she drunk but was she flashing two sabers? Jim thought about it and deducted that Jedi don't get drunk, Right? It'd mess up their mystical powers and such. That's what he thought anyway. So Jim assumed those sabers were fake. If Jim was a betting man, he'd take the rowdy group, over the small drunken seemingly delusional woman. His train of thought was interrupted by the apologetic waitress.

"Sorry sir. Here's your..."

"Yes, yes, for your troubles, doll." Jim said rushing the waitress to go, he gave her an overgenerous tip due to his rudeness. and continued to watch the argument unfold. The drunken lady started angrily slurring at the group.

"You guys...you shouldn't...you....you shouldn't be flashing us with your goodies...your weapons. I'm trying to relax here. People are....we're trying to relax here and we can't do that with you showing off your stupid fancy gear."

Jim chuckled to himself, and then he took a sip of his lum. He unholstered his blaster, that poor, drunken lady wasn't getting hurt on his watch, even if she was instigating it.

[member="Kitty"]
[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[xAcheron]

Taking a look at the credit chit's in his pocket Marcus could not help but sigh at the pitiful funds he had acquired over the past few months. Having abandoned the Galactic Alliance for the life of a mercenary he imagined it would be easy to turn a profit, the young outlaw had been dead wrong. In fact, it had been more profitable to stay on as a contracted soldier than to jump from employer to employer. Low rank bounties, pampered body guarding, and cheap racketeering was all he had been hired on for so far and it was as profitable as it was exciting. Never the less he enjoyed living life the way he decided, even if it did mean skipping out on a meal here and there.

"This next job better pay something worth my time, or I'll have to take out a loan from the Hutt's just to make it...Damn it." The man cursed, digging his hands back into his pockets as he made his way down one of the pleasant streets in Nar Shadaa's armpit. Not to say the street was much worse than the other ninety percent of the planet....Nar Shadaa just had a lot of armpits.

He found himself standing in front of a Cantina, The Red Draft, with a black vest slung over his shoulders. From what he heard about his new employer she was something of a rapid expansionist and had her mind set on starting a swoop gang in the lower levels of Nar Shadaa. A smirk came over Marcus' face as he considered the dozens of swoop gangs that fought for territory on the planet. "Fast bikes, fine women, and good pay? Hell this may actually turn into something worth while." He chuckled, pulling the vest on and heading inside of the cantina.

Marcus didn't make any attempt at finding his employer, instead he headed straight for the bar, the smell of alcohol distracting him. Taking a seat at the bar the human whistled to the bar droid, trying to gain it's attention. "Hey, some service?" He questioned, bringing the droid rolling over to the man.

Tossing one of the last credit chit's he had on the bar top Marcus turned his head to scan the room as he placed his order. "Bourbon, chilled." After collecting the credit piece the droid placed a clean glass in front of Marcus, searching under the bar for the proper drink. As he watched his drink being poured he could not help but exhale in a sense of relief. "Great, now I'm only waiting on one thing."

@Kitty @Hala Jast

 

[Luther Lewis]

Zai was beaming. His last sale went extremely well, and he'd lined his pockets with more money than he'd ever gotten before. It was hard to imagine, considering he was so down this morning, but the last of the salvaged droid parts from Gail's workshop had gone along way. He was so pleased with himself he'd even bought himself a fine-looking black vest. He admired himself in a cracked mirror aboard his ship. He fancied himself a dashing rogue, the hero of the story, a formidable fighter.

It was getting late, but Zai was pumped full of energy. He wanted to go out and do something, spend his new-found money. He bit his lip. That was a risky idea, walking around Nar Shaddaa with a lot of money. People seemed to smell it on you. Zai reluctantly hid the majority of the money in his hidden stash, next to a photo of his parents and a spare toothbrush. However he saved himself enough to have a few drinks at the nearest watering hole. Once again keen, he sprinted past the protocol droid saying "GR-8 mind the ship!" and leap out the door.

Zai walked into the cantina, smoothing down his already rumpled black vest. He smiled and nodded to himself, this seemed like the perfect, quiet place to celebrate. He looked around the cantina. A woman in brown spacer's clothes and a black vest was sitting at a table in the corner, flanked by a Rodian and a Wookie. She was looking at him strangely like she was taking note of something he done, or was doing. She was making him nervous (though not as neverous as the wookie made him) so he looked around the rest of the cantina.

An unusally handsome man was sitting one of the other corners of the cantina ('why are people obsessed with corner tables?' he thought) talking to a waitress. A feline woman (a Cathar maybe?) was tottering around, clearly drunk. She was talking to the woman in brown, but Zai couldn't hear what was exchanged between them. Zai eyes widened. She was carrying two lightsabers! That means she's a Jedi or maybe Sith, Zai didn't understand the difference. All it meant was that she was dangerous. The handsome man rose from his seat and started strolling towards the group.

Zai was getting more and more nervous by the minute, he didn't like the look of this. He hesitated for a moment, then headed towards the bar. He took a seat next to next to a grizzled mercenary. The bartender gave him a raised eyebrow, but Zai said nothing instead turning to examine the person sitting next to him. His heart sank, the man was wearing a black vest. Clearly there had been some kind of sale where everyone had gotten one cheap and Zai had been cheated again. His vest had cost him what seemed like a small fortune and the vest was already unraveling at the seams.

His bubbly feeling now completely gone, Zai sighed and got comfy on his stool. Hopefully tonight would be a quiet night.

[member="Hala Jast"]
[member="Kitty"]
[member="Jim Pehico"]
[member="Marcus Collier"]

 

[B'kik]

B'kik saw a nice ad for a decent paying mission.
Of course he wasn't ashuna to wear a black vest but he was ashuna to be holding one acting like a vest peekayman because once this mission is over he is ashuna to pukay the vest for double the price.
As soon as he walked in the bar he saw the rowdy group who were wearing black vest.
B'kik gave them a nod and was waving his black vest.
B'kim decided to head towards the ko guys who were sitting next to each other and both of them had black vest.
"Ikee guess the ayafa gogowa wants us to split up"
Once he got to the mercenary and what seemed like a very nervous kid
"Probably his first job"
B'kik said under his breath
B'kik ordered some jawa juice from the bartender then looked at the ko blokes
"So whats the plan. How are we taking this bar"

[member="Marcus Collier"]
[member="Zai Avery"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Kitty"] @B'kik [member="Zai Avery"] [member="Marcus Collier"][member="Jim Pehico"]

There was a lot of activity and she'd intended for her display to cause it. It was good to shake things up once in a while. She glanced left, taking in the scene of two folks at the bar with vests, and then the Jawa who came to greet them. The cat woman was talking something about not flashing fancy gear. Hala grunted, kicking out a seat with her black boot.

Shalbacca growled, going for his warhammer but she held a fingerless gloved hand to the air, palm up.

"No Shal, we're good here. Cat woman, have a seat."

The party was about to begin.

"I can see you have some nice lightsaber there eh? How do you feel about putting them to good use. I got creds, I can pay."

To the Jawa she simply smiled, and then snapped her pistol up and sideways towards the backroom door. Two shots rang out as magnetically accelerated slugs ripped from the barrel and into one of the guards by the door. He tumbled down with a smoking hole in his breast plate. The second one whirled, raised his repeater and began to open fire.

Just as Hala stood, and with Shal'bacca her Wookie friend tipped the table. She dropped, pulling the cat lady with her behind it.

​

"If your wearing a black vest and you want to be rich, now's the time! This bar is ours, so let's take what's ours!" Hala roared.​

There was no planning to this. This bar however belonged to a Hutt Slaver name Roshan. Roshan would have guys down here any second to check out the disturbance.

Blaster bolts continued to splinter wood and blast planks of the table out. Hala reached her pistol around as the back door busted open and more guards came bursting out. Typical. They had two Mandalorian Bounty Hunter types with them two, each running to take a corner of the room and get a killzone going.

"Shal! Cut em off!" She roared, snapping another two slugs towards the group, scoring a hit on the Juggernauts shoulder. He stumbled she dipped her head back and Drexal jumped from behind cover, chasing down one Mando, whilst Shal sprinted with his war hammer and swung for the second one.

A thousand pounds of wookie and steel coming at ya! Yikes!

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim always had hated slavers. as blaster fire erupted around him, he walked calmly to the bar and grabbed him a bottle of lum and poored it in his flask. The bartender who was busy trying to defend the bar from the invaders, noticed Jim trying to get a free drink and tried to shoot Jim. However the bartender missed and hit the bottle of lum he was pouring. Jim slowly stopped pouring the lum that hadn't spilled out by the blaster bolt.

"That was your one karkin' mistake, stranger." Jim said. throwing the glass at the bartender and shooting the bartender twice in the chest with his S-5. This caused Jim to become a target for the people who were defending the bar. Jim did a diving front roll behind the table with the 3 people who had originally started this mess.

"Look doll, under this 'new management'," Jim said in between shots. He looked towards the young woman seemingly in charge of the hostile takeover. "would you provide me with free lum whenever I come in? You can forget the credits all together." Jim said with his signature smirk.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Jim Pehico"]

Hala fired off another trio of shots and slammed the release with her back pressed against the table. Nearby the sound of Shal'bacca growling and cracking bone and meaty flesh cut through the din of staccato fire.

The magazine fell to the ground and she rammed a fresh one in, magnetic servos whining in a high pitch as the railgun charged again.

"Consider yourself hired stranger!" She shouted.

With the pistol at the high ready in one hand she reached her other out to shake his.

"Welcome to the Crimson Devils, I'm Hala!"

 

[Luther Lewis]

"So whats the plan. How are we taking this bar"

This was a strange. A Jawa was talking to him, saying something about plans. He turned towards him. A cold feeling settled in his gut. The Jawa was wearing a black vest. There was no mistaking it now, there was something big going on and Zai was in the middle of it.

Zai head snapped up with a painful click as two blaster shot ran out. One of the guards by the door was sliding down, dead.

"If your wearing a black vest and you want to be rich, now's the time! This bar is ours, so let's take what's ours!"

"Kark" he muttered.

Blaster shots were flying around the room. Zai ducked down behind the bar, crawling a distance along for more cover. He payed little heed to what the Jawa and Mercenary were doing, instead he fumbled for the blaster pistol tucked inside his vest.

It was hard to determine friend from foe, but he figured after that woman's bold statement that folk would be aiming at anyone in a black vest. Zai peeked over the top of the bar to get a better view of the fight.

His jaw dropped. The handsome man from earlier was pouring himself a drink from the bar, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding battle. An Aqualish thug was sneaking up to the man, a wicked-looking knife poised in the air. Without thinking, Zai shot him three times in the chest. He breathed hard and looked back to the bar. The man was staring, disappointed, at a broken bottle. He drew his pistol and shot the bartender several times in the chest and ran off.

The door was exposed, Zai doubted he could make a run for it without receiving at least 5 shots in the back. Looks like he had to help these people finish the firefight. Taking up a better position, he began firing from the bar. Hopefully that would take some of the pressure off those shooting from behind the table.

 

[B'kik]

B'kik threw his black vest on the ground and started gogowa for the exit.
Being a jawa the guards would probably ignore him.
To the average person it would seem like B'kik was escaping but that wasn't the plan.
As he gogowa past some guard he rolled an activated thermal detonator to them.
BOOM
Once B'kik got out of the bar he quickly gogowa ran to a vent that was across the road and went into a shootogawa position.
Using his ion distupter B'kik shootogawa one of the guard in the back and then used the vent as a hiding spot hoping the guards don't see him when he shootagawas

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim shook the woman's hand,

"Madame, you made this lowly scoundrel's day" Jim said emotionally. However suddenly all emotion stopped in Jim's face.

A tear ran down his cheek, It was an alcoholic's greatest dream come true, and the people who were trying to stop his dream, were right in front of him. You see, Jim was never much of a killer, but as for booze, Jim would do nearly anything for a glass of booze. However, the thought of free booze for the rest of his life triggered something in Jim, a man who would typically prefer to talk than to blast his way out of a situation. At that point in time. Jim the typical smart aleck scoundrel had become a blood-frenzied war machine.

Jim was throwing everything he had at these men. thermal detonators, his blasters, even chairs.

 

[Kitty]

Cat women, that sounded like an insult of some sort. Couldn't one just say women or if you had to like feline friend. That was far less open to misunderstanding. Any offense she might have taken to it though was pushed aside at the mention of her lightsabers. She forgot she brought those. It didn't do one a ton of good to hide their force presence if their sabers were in full view. Kitty had this problem for awhile now actually. She wasn't going to wear more clothing to hide them as that would too uncomfortably warm for her. At the very least it hid her powerful dark side presence. She had notice while not suppressed even those who weren't force sensitive could feel it.

"What...no these aren't mine their...I...I got em to...to look tough so no one would mess with me...they aren't real." Kitty said failing pretty badly at sounding convincing. Thankfully in her drunken state it was actually easier to believe her. To boot most jedi knew how to use their power to metabolize alcohol out of their system so it didn't effect them, something Kitty didn't know how to do despite her unusual time spent with jedi.

Before Kitty knew it she was getting pulled behind a tipped table. Her natural reaction time was so swift that even under the influence it was degraded down to what one would consider normal. Complex decision making was a little different though and as she was getting pulled she was too busy thinking if she should grab her lightsabers, use the force, or just good old fashion scratch her. By the time she settled with scratch she had already been moved. Very quickly the whole place turned into a battle field. Kitty faintly recalled the women saying something about paying credits. Kitty didn't need credits but having ones own bar sounded nice. Besides the guy that currently owned it was scum. A slaver she was planning on assassinating....eventually.

Some other fellow dived behind their table asking for free alcohol. Their shelter from the fire was beginning to get a little crowded, course Kitty didn't take up much space. "This is exactly what I was talking about. This is not relaxed...at all." There wasn't much left of the table and soon they'd be taking direct hits. The young sith let out a great sigh before jumping out in front of the table and igniting both her red lightsabers. She held both in a reverse grip and expertly, well expertly when considering her impairment, deflected each blast her way back in the general direction of the attackers. Her saber style was perfectly suited to this, it was fortunate this was a fire fight. If she were to duel while impaired she might loss to a padawan.

Before long the fight was over. Kitty put away her blades and went to find an undamaged booth. "I'm..I'm a take a nap...now"

[member="Jim Pehico"]
[member="Marcus Collier"]
[member="Zai Avery"]
@B'kik
[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[xAcheron]

"If your wearing a black vest and you want to be rich, now's the time! This bar is ours, so let's take what's ours!" Hala roared

Marcus downed the rest of his drink, exhaling as the warm sting filled the back of his throat. Setting his glass on the counter he produced a blaster pistol from his waist, aiming it at the bar droid in front of him. "Gotta pay my tab, bolts." He muttered, squeezing the trigger as a blaster bolt discharge from his weapon. Searing through the droid like a knife through butter he watched as it collapsed on the bar in front of him. "Keep the change."

Leaping over the bar Marcus pressed his back to the counter, checking over his blaster pistol as he heard a hail of blaster bolts rain through the cantina.

After making sure his weapon was in good shape Marcus peaked over the counter, his eyes narrowing at the Mandalorian armor he saw in the corner beside him. "Freaking Mando'ade." He breathed, standing to his full height as he aimed his blaster pistol for the man.

"Hey!" He yelled out, gaining the man's attention, just as he turned to face Marcus he pulled the trigger, a blaster bolt impacting the man in the weak spot of his armor, right in the side of the neck. As the warrior crumpled to the ground Marcus quickly ducked back down behind the bar, taking safety from a hail of blaster fire that attempted to take him out. "Amateurs."

[member="Kitty"] [member="Jim Pehico"] @B'kik [member="Zai Avery"] [member="Hala Jast"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

Zai was staring down at the dead mandolorian a few feet away from where he hid behind the bar. The thug was fairly nondescript with the exception of a slaver's brand across his chestplate. Zai's breath caught in his throat.

He hated slavers.

All thought of escape fleeing from his mind, Zai surveyed the rest of the bar. His newly acquired allies were very efficient, dead littered the ground. A wookie was roaring his head off, swinging a warhammer in a vicious arc. The woman in brown, the grizzled mercenary and hansome alcoholic were all shooting with a practiced ease that spoke of experience. The Jawa had somehow made his way up into the vent and was picking off unwary and exposed enemies. Sneaky.

In true mercenary fashion however, they failed to notice a mandolorian in different colours slip through a door at the side of the cantina. Ignoring the shots erupting all around him, Zai made his way to the door.

Locked, typical. He grabbed a spare multi-tool that he kept on him and levered off the panel. Now an expert slicer might have been able to get the door open by severing a few wires or using a special device, but Zai was only really an enthusiast of the silicing discipline and took his time getting the door open.

Zai looked sideways and saw the feline woman swinging two lightsabers in an elegant pattern, deflecting all blaster shots. The twisting motion of the style was entrancing and distacted Zai. A shot passing a foot away from his face woke him from his reverie. He took a deep breath and turn back to the panel.

By the time he unlocked the door, the fighting had stopped. The was a low murmuring of voices behind him and he heard someone approach.

"One of them fled down here, got the door open for you" Zai said, turning and grinning impishly.

[member="Hala Jast"] [member="Kitty"] [member="Jim Pehico"] @B'kik [member="Marcus Collier"]

 

[RC 212]

[member=Kitty] @B'kik [member="Zai Avery"] [member="Marcus Collier"] [member="Jim Pehico"]

Hala as close behind Zai. As the door popped open the rest of the way she put her boot to it and at the same time put one more shot in the helmet of the slumped guard by the door. It was an insurance policy. She wasn't about to be jumped.

Inside there was an Aqaulish crouching by a safe, trying to get it open. His fingers trembled and he whirled, roaring something before going for his own DL-44. Hala was faster, raising the Mag pistol and letting a magnetically accelerated slug fly. There was a crack and scream and the flesh of his squishy hand exploded, taking most of it arm with it by the sheer force.

The battle outside was winding down now and she motioned to Zai.

"Cover the safe, see if you can get it open." He had already proven himself once, could he do it again?

The bodies were beginning to stink now and Hala was ready for it to be all over. She asn't a fan of killing just for it's sake, but she had a goal here and this place as theirs now. No Hutt lord would Nar Shadda. She would. As it's head honcho of the underworld.

With a gloved hand she grabbed the alien by his shirt and hauled him up, nose to nose.

"Go back to your Hutt masters and tell them that Beggars Row and the Red Draft belong to the Red Devils now. If he's smart, he'll leave it be."

Then she shoved him hard through the door and into the chaos beyond the portal.

She turned back to Zai.

"Never got properly introduced by the way. I'm Hala. Hala Jast."

 

[Luther Lewis]

"Zai Avery, a pleasure". He looked over the safe. It was pretty well built, but shouldn't be too hard to bust open. "Not exactly sure what I got myself into, but always happy to help against slavers".

The safe was trickier than he anticipated. I was an old fashioned dial, but the dial was too quiet to listen to the clicks. He felt the metal around the dial. It was strong, but thin. That gave him an idea.

He postioned his blaster so the bolts would skim along the front of the safe door. After several shots, the metal was weakened and red hot in some places. Zai used the multi-tool to peel away some of the metal around the dial.

The main bulk of the safe was solid, thick metal. The designer built it to withstand drilling but it meant that the unlocking mechanism couldn't be attached to the main body or it would compromise the structure. Thus, a second shell of thinner metal was created with the lock around the outside.

Having burned away the outer shell, Zai could access the tumblers of the lock. With a few manipulations from his multi-tool, the door unlocked. It was difficult to move the door, due to the warped metal. He'd destoyed the safe, but who wants a cheap safe anyway?

"Hala? I've got the safe open".

[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Zai Avery"]

Hala nodded, peering into the safe. There was a lot of random leaflet of flimsi in there. She reached both hands in and shuffled around the papers until she had what she needed. A datapad, with a key. The key to the magnetic sealed door. Now that she had it, she could reset the codes and the bar would really be theirs.

"Good work dude! Take whatever else ya find in there." She said clapping him on the shoulder and then striding through the door into the ravaged room beyond.

"The bar is ours!"

 

[Zaiden Dean]

Zaiden, guided by the Force, had approached the... Wreck, if you will, late oddly enough. With his hands in his pockets, the God of Shadows walked into the mainstead of the bar, eyes lazily moving around the warzone. Bodies all over. Overturned tables. Broken liquor bottles. It was...sad.

Like that a decision was made. The Force had guided the Master-turned-Knight to this place. And it wasn't to help calm things down. Zaiden was a killer. A soldier. An assassin. Instantly his calling card began. Murky shadows billowed out from seemingly thin air. It however wasnt simply shadows. No, this was the darkest point imaginable, the utter absence of light entirely.

Still looking around without a care, he slightly moved his head to one side, dodging a blaster shot fired his way. Another came, and Zaiden just stared at the blazing plasma as it froze in mid-air, then returned to sender. Before too long the room was icey chilled, frozen almost, as without light heat couldn't sustain itself. Like that the Miraluka walked amongst the still living, calmly jabbing at exposed pressure points. He needn't kill heedlessly.

[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Zaiden James-Greyson"]

Hala was just beginning to take stock of her surroundings and pour a drink when Zaiden approached. The last couple of folks outside were felled by his hand and she watched, impressed by his zeal. Regardless she poured that drink, letting the amber liquid flow into the crystal cup. And then she grinned and offered him the bottle.

"Hala Jast. You came late to the party bub. But the bars all our so have a drink if you want."

Then she knocked back the glass and found another bottle, uncorking it.

"Excuse us though, we're renovating."