Alkor Centaris
Son of Liberty
"First one's on me, bub."
The barkeep grunted in his direction and the tired man offered a half smile, half nod in response. The credit chip hit the counter in earnest, however, and he slid it toward the man. "Open a tab anyway," he asserted, "one won't be nearly enough." This prompted a hoarse laugh from the obese man as he poured the drink.
"It never is," he responded with a grin. "Otherwise I'd be out of business. Drunks keep my pocketbook full." He placed the drink down and snatched up the payment quickly. "I can afford to let one or two go. Besides, you look like death."
Alkor smirked at some unspoken joke. "I appreciate that," he stated simply. There was no point in regaling the man with his story. He doubted sincerely that his 'friend' would have any real interest in it anyway. As he lifted the ale to his lips, his bright blue eyes lit up. "Ah gods, Corellian," he let out a euphoric sigh. "I haven't had Corellian in years."
He accepted his credit chip back with a look of contentment plastered on his face, then slid it into the folds of his cloak. "Thanks again," he muttered as the proprietor shuffled away to one of his other customers. Alkor swiveled round in his seat and turned his gaze to the scene unfolding behind him. A friendly scuffle had quickly escalated into a brawl, and two large Trandoshans were at work peeling the culprits off of one another.
Emotion was a strange thing, Alkor mused. People gravitated between different phases of morality, and at each of them, they experienced a new array of feelings. There was a great deal of strength to be harvested from that, but there were also ramifications. As the smaller of the two- a Rodian- was detained, the bouncer slugged him in the fact and spat a string of curses in a foreign tongue. Alkor nursed his drink indifferently.
"Alright, kids, take it outside," the bartender called from behind Alkor. "Swear to the force, if ever a day goes by that someone doesn't start something in my bar I'll close up shop and run for the Senate."
"Easy there," another customer chuckled, "booze is much safer than politics, pop."
"Aye, and it tastes better, too," Alkor added with a snort.
"Cheers to that."
They drank. "Hey," the other patron hissed toward Alkor, who turned his gaze toward the sound and quirked an eyebrow. "Is that, I mean, are you one of them Jedi?" He asked. Alkor blinked, then looked to his hip where his lightsaber was on display for the world. He quickly shifted and drew his cloak. "Why did you not jump in and end the fight?"
"It's not Jedi business to break up barfights," Alkor answered, but without much enthusiasm, "and I'm not a Jedi besides."
"A Sith?" The man asked with a wary expression, and several heads jerked in their direction. Alkor threw up his hands. "Kriff, will you quiet down? No, I'm not a bloody Sith. Just mind your drink."
Alkor turned away and took his drink in hand. "I'll be over in a booth," he announced to the bartender who simply nodded. He could feel several cold stares as they followed him. "Dromund Kaas is not a friendly place, he muttered to himself. "I should have stayed away from here."
The barkeep grunted in his direction and the tired man offered a half smile, half nod in response. The credit chip hit the counter in earnest, however, and he slid it toward the man. "Open a tab anyway," he asserted, "one won't be nearly enough." This prompted a hoarse laugh from the obese man as he poured the drink.
"It never is," he responded with a grin. "Otherwise I'd be out of business. Drunks keep my pocketbook full." He placed the drink down and snatched up the payment quickly. "I can afford to let one or two go. Besides, you look like death."
Alkor smirked at some unspoken joke. "I appreciate that," he stated simply. There was no point in regaling the man with his story. He doubted sincerely that his 'friend' would have any real interest in it anyway. As he lifted the ale to his lips, his bright blue eyes lit up. "Ah gods, Corellian," he let out a euphoric sigh. "I haven't had Corellian in years."
He accepted his credit chip back with a look of contentment plastered on his face, then slid it into the folds of his cloak. "Thanks again," he muttered as the proprietor shuffled away to one of his other customers. Alkor swiveled round in his seat and turned his gaze to the scene unfolding behind him. A friendly scuffle had quickly escalated into a brawl, and two large Trandoshans were at work peeling the culprits off of one another.
Emotion was a strange thing, Alkor mused. People gravitated between different phases of morality, and at each of them, they experienced a new array of feelings. There was a great deal of strength to be harvested from that, but there were also ramifications. As the smaller of the two- a Rodian- was detained, the bouncer slugged him in the fact and spat a string of curses in a foreign tongue. Alkor nursed his drink indifferently.
"Alright, kids, take it outside," the bartender called from behind Alkor. "Swear to the force, if ever a day goes by that someone doesn't start something in my bar I'll close up shop and run for the Senate."
"Easy there," another customer chuckled, "booze is much safer than politics, pop."
"Aye, and it tastes better, too," Alkor added with a snort.
"Cheers to that."
They drank. "Hey," the other patron hissed toward Alkor, who turned his gaze toward the sound and quirked an eyebrow. "Is that, I mean, are you one of them Jedi?" He asked. Alkor blinked, then looked to his hip where his lightsaber was on display for the world. He quickly shifted and drew his cloak. "Why did you not jump in and end the fight?"
"It's not Jedi business to break up barfights," Alkor answered, but without much enthusiasm, "and I'm not a Jedi besides."
"A Sith?" The man asked with a wary expression, and several heads jerked in their direction. Alkor threw up his hands. "Kriff, will you quiet down? No, I'm not a bloody Sith. Just mind your drink."
Alkor turned away and took his drink in hand. "I'll be over in a booth," he announced to the bartender who simply nodded. He could feel several cold stares as they followed him. "Dromund Kaas is not a friendly place, he muttered to himself. "I should have stayed away from here."