A Rambler's Life (Aeten II)

[Riva Quill]

Economically destroyed and ecologically ruined, Aeten II was over-mined and exploited to the point of devastation. It was almost funny in some ways that the system's wealth had been its greatest fault and cause of its downfall. Granted, if she were honest, that often seemed to be the cause of such situations across the galaxy.

She stepped over a muddy puddle and kept on walking down the road. The planet itself was hot, arid, and featured rivers of molten rock, but the habitable zones were covered with sealed domes. The larger ones featured full climate control with the wealthier ones sporting the ability to create weather patterns inside the domes. Those that couldn't afford regulated climate control, or couldn't afford to maintain it properly, had the same problem: condensation and lots of it.

The domes were generally wet from the constantly falling water, akin to a halfway decent post-shower soaking. Puddles sat here and there along the roads along with waterlogged debris and the occasional small pile of garbage. She ducked under a small awning for the few moments of dryness before stepping back out into the widespread and constant dripping. Up ahead she could see the neon lights of her destination and picked up her pace a little more as she pulled her spacers' jacket tight around her small frame. With luck, the place would be warm and the beer cold, though she'd settle for warm beer so long as the heater was on...

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The problem Coren had with most of the ‘known’ galaxy was that it was exactly that. Known. Life on the Rim and in the Unknown Regions were something else. Nothing was really all that crazy known and overrun. Sure, there were some locations, this galaxy was millennia old. But it just felt… better. He wasn’t sure why. But he had a few new ships and was working on a few new projects, for that, however, he needed some tools.

And that meant he was going to need the right supplies. Which meant he had to go to the New Jersey’s of the galaxy.

Which, in this case, meant Aeten. He had landed the Shortfin, his restructured shuttle and stepped out of the vessel. Looking more spacer than Jedi-wannabe (as he was known to do), he made his way through the streets. He was in one of the more run down dome. It was places like this Coren preferred. But what he was going to be looking for was a lead in on stygium, and that meant off the beaten path.

Hell, he wasn’t going to pay for it.

[member="Riva Quill"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

The outer-rim and unknown regions where a place of lawlessness, even those under the control of certain governments still had their good amount of underworld dealings, crime and other unsavoury factors. Bad for people looking to make an honest credit or not get robed, kill or left to rot in the lower levels, sometimes both... though great news for Chekita, it meant a large array of customer looking for some personal protection, that could afford weapons, or knew that someone was out to get them.

*Pist*! Chekita's silent pistol whispered in the street, a thug or some sort of hired blade fell dead on the ground, a nice little hole planted between their eyes between their eyes, "Hahahahahahaha, did you seriously try to block my slug with a sword, what are you a Jedi, pfftt... oh wait your dead, never mind... alright mister the ways clear, you should be good from here on out, law enforcement is tighter around there".

"um... Thank you miss Kaie, though you do your job well, I must say, your methods are... strange"

"So? makes me different form the others, that's a good thing, anyways, I'll be seeing ya later", 'guess it’s time to head back to little ol space port, best place to pick up employers, though I wish someone more... important came along'. With a small skip in step the cheery body guard strode towards the space port.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] l [member="Riva Quill"]

 

[Riva Quill]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPwkDF5AxQM​

The bar was about as she expected. Dim, dingy, and filled with both the mute quiet of those seeking silent asylum and the slow, jaunty tune coming from the seemingly run down band standing up the stage. They were just as tired as the bar patrons, but seemed more alive somehow. Worn dusters and spacer leathers were the uniting theme, if there even was one. They played old instruments with a professional air and the song they sang spoke of freedom in the stars, something that she could easily see was the main draw to the bar. A place of quiet solitude on a more or less barren planet where the spirit of freedom in the Black Sea was still alive, albeit a bit worn for wear. In a way, she felt at home. In another way, she felt intrusive somehow. Perhaps that was the way of such places and why many were content in their mute isolation.

She slipped in between moving patrons and servers to the bar itself and ordered a drink. She slid one of her last credit chips across the bar top and took the meager change when it was slid back along with a mug filled with what seemed to be a type of local beer. She put the change in her pocket and took the mug in her free hand before slipped away. The beer tasted about as she figured it would, sour and on the verge of foul, but then again she wasn't much of a beer drinker.

The corner booth provided ample opportunity to both fit in and warm up. It wasn't exactly near the heater, but it was certainly warmer and drier than outside. She settled in with her beer and pulled her damp jacket close, suppressing a shiver. Her contact was supposed to meet her here and, with luck, it would be soon. She kept a wary eye on the bar, naively looking for someone who stood out from the others.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Chekīta Kaie"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Right, inside. Off the streets and out of this muck that was Aeten’s norm. He didn’t care for the world, but at least it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Well, he said that NOW, who knew where it would go. The man shook his head. Really? It got worse? He’d take a frakking lava planet over this. Oh, the days when his office was on Sullust. Now he was on the run, procuring goods as best he could when he could.

The bar was a bit dingy, and he was okay with that. Preferred it, less people were hunting him, or if it was someone hunting him, it was less likely to be Darth Whatever, Evil Lord of All Sith Forever. No, it was someone he could handle, someone that would come at him with a gun. That was something he could handle. A Sith, well, he knew he could, or at least get in a fighting retreat from them, until he got his ship.

Then the tide would turn, fo’ sho’.

The music, and feel of the bar was something he could handle. Preferred way of doing things. The man smirked as he stepped forward to the bar, indicating the top shelf liquor and tossing a few cred-chits on the top. He sat at the bar and took the drink, looking around, listening.

Who was going to be useful here?

[member="Riva Quill"]
[member="Chekīta Kaie"]

 

[Riva Quill]

It was just warm enough that she wasn't exactly shivering in her clothes seated at her booth, but only just. The heater was a short distance away and while many sported heavier coats and clothing, there were enough standing around the vent that most of the heat was blocked. Not that she'd do anything about it in the end. She was trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. At least, not everyone's attention.

She was sure that she stood out in some regard. It wasn't exactly a purely local dive bar being this close to the space port, but it wasn't exactly a spacer's cantina either. Keeping her head down meant that most wouldn't notice the stranger in the soaked clothes sitting in the corner. She just hoped that the contact would spot her, or at least be easily spotted.

There were occasional newcomers slipping through the door despite the slow traffic in and out. She figured it wasn't quite prime time for the bar, but for all she knew it may well be. One individual, however, caught her eye as he moved to the bar. He was a spacer, or at least looked like one. The leathers looked much different than the local cut and his mannerisms weren't of someone tired and run down. At least, not the same kind of worn out air that the other patrons gave off. He also seemed more wary, if she had to hazard a guess, and from the way he scanned the bar she could almost guess he was looking for someone.

She caught herself staring at the same moment she realized that the man was probably the contact. A quick gulp of sour beer brought on instant regret for the taste, but at least broke the eye contact. If he was the contact, he'd act first. If he wasn't, she'd just go back to waiting. In the meantime, she huddled in her wet clothing and settled in.

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren wasn’t the type who was keen on removing any of his gear from himself when he entered a building. Hell, even at the apartment he had on Sullust once upon a bye, he wasn’t sure he was keen on leaving things in anything that wasn’t quickly moved. Was it paranoia? Mostly. But it was also a matter that he rarely spent time in many places. Hell, he was even doing his best to bring ships down in number that he owned. His shuttle with the Dawn Treader, and the Tachyon Rising with his transport corvette.

So even when it was warm enough for him to remove his jacket, he opted against that move and even tightened his gunbelt as he scanned the establishment. Enough locals and enough spacers, a perfect meeting place. To find a contact, or get transport off the world. Or hell, even if you were just looking for a quick lay between legs of a smuggling run.

Being worldly enough, Coren typically was quicker than now to pick up on the way a system or region was. But the time in the Unknown Regions left him being an outsider too much that even this skill, of being a chameleon, Lily always said, was not up to snuff. What he was good at was understanding who was watching him. Grinning, not widely, an mostly to himself, Coren approached the woman who was looking at him.

“Can I help ya?”

[member="Riva Quill"]

 

[Riva Quill]

She was at a loss for words. She'd recited her own responses in her head a thousand times prior to coming to the dive bar and a few more times as she walked. Between determination and raw will she'd endeavored to ensure she wouldn't freeze when confronted by the contact she sought, but when what absolutely had to be the stygium contact spoke she found herself unable to say a word for an awkwardly long moment.

"... Uh," she croaked after a moment, forcing her voice to work at last. "I, uh... That depends..."

Now that the moment was here, she wasn't entirely certain what to do. No prices had been exchanged, no code words or pass phrases given. All she knew was that someone would meet her here and that they'd know it when they approached her. Her mind was a jumble, but she managed to put some semblance of a sabac face on the ordeal and pushed her cheap beer to the side.

"Go ahead and have a seat..." she said after another moment, gesturing to the bench seat opposite the table. "I'll be honest... I wasn't expecting the adventurer get-up in a place like this. Didn't think you'd want to stand out."

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

Chetika had been mulling around the space port for some time now, with the sudden down pour and night winding down people were less likely to travel, and those that did where option to pay much extra for vehicle travel then her services and a short work. The armoured woman finished the final draw on her cigar, her breath and smoke condensing together to make a rather large cloud as she exhaled, "Well smokos over, seems good time to call it a night, alright business, though this rain isn’t much of a help".

With self-employment clocking off was always left to just when she felt like it, and now it was time to call it quits, maybe start again early in the morning. The butt of the cigar was thrown from her hand, promptly stepped on by the sole of her shoe, snuffing out any remaining embers that where held within its paper lining. 'Guess I'll hit the bar before bunking a room for the night, not much else in the form of entertainment here'.

Pulling on her balaclava Chektia made hate towards the nearby bar, the rain falling heavily upon her suit, good thing it was relatively water tight. Upon entering the bar, she probably looked a bit out of place, a heavily armoured person with a skull faced mask, holstering several weapons, a stark contrast to the slightly dingy establishment, she gave the room a quick look around getting a few stares of her own, but she paid no mind people could think whatever they wanted.

Hopefully want ever thoughts people had of her were put away she removed the balaclava, brushing and water out of her hair while making way over to the bar, "I'll start with something, light, just to buzz going". Though she made no outward not of it she did take interest in the two huddled down the back, from experince that usually meant something was up, maybe a meeting of sort, or someone trying to stay hidden from others. Was it her business, no, would she be considering it, maybe, but so far, no gut instinct was alerting her, yet.

[member="Riva Quill"] l [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Salvador Grim]

In this universe certain resources were very limited in the galaxy, and with all the heavy mining operations it was near impossible he would find what he wanted. Word had come from a messenger of a rare source of Stygium crystals but they could only be found in few places in the entire galaxy.

He hoped for a moment as he walked to the space port in his long black robes puffing a smoke before tossing the butt of it away*was it possible, was there a way that even a small amount of these Stygium crystals still existed.*

He knew there value and rarity and would tear the entire planet in half if he had too just to fill a cargo bay with another shipment. He did not plan to steal the crystals he wanted to perhaps broker a deal with the government of that planet, in his cargo bay he had about 90 tons of Quadanium steel and Durasteel ready for shipment that he had salvaged from some wreckage. His personal ship was land locked that pissed him off he hated traveling space in other people rigs and depending them to get him were he had to be.

He has no means of currency so there would be no way he could pay for the items he seeks unless perhaps, the government of the planet would take a trade. His black robes he wore hid his many weapons weapons upon his body the work he did he would never leave home with out enough weapons to do what must be done.

He spends a few days looking around the space port until he finds a hauler heading were he wants to be, the man was a greedy person though perhaps after his own heart and demanded 10 tons of cargo for the transport of him and his goods. He had no choice if he wanted to get were he wanted to be with his cargo, so he made the deal and signed off the 10 tons and watched as the worked droids loaded the ship and got ready for transport.

He knew it would take a few weeks to get to Aeten II , so he would spend this time checking and testing his weapons as he cleaned them and worked out in the ship getting ready for what would lay ahead. There was a old saying even the best plans never survived the fields of battle.

One by one he goes threw his weapon first he checks over the C-22 flame carbine then his Stealth-2VX palm shooters firing a darts at the ships walls making sure they were reading to go after that he gives his PLX-2M portable missile launcher a look over knowing he couldn't test it on the ship he would just have to hope if the time called for it he would be ready. He tightens his MM9 wrist rockets , then he attaches five Class-A thermal detonators to his waist. and three WW-41 CryoBan grenades.

He would stretch his body and relax a bit as he had a nice smooth drink from a flask on his beside table, he thought for a moment should he bring the Evasive-13 individual field disruption unit or not would he really plan to use it to steal the materials he required perhaps not but it was better to be safe then sorry he thought strapping it to his belt.

He flicks his wrists for a moment and examines his two Ryyk blades hidden up his left and right sleeves extending them out into his hands and sparing with a practice dummy for a bit before he sits back down on his bed to relax. He decided to leave his Emperor-4 back home in the outer rim.

He really didn't want to make this a full out war and there was no way he could hide that cannon on his body without being obvious about the fact he was not going to do nice business. As the days pass and the cargo ship finally arrives at the space dock and goes threw all the proper landing procedures of requesting permission to dock he loads up his gear and orders the worker droids to set his last 80 tons of Durasteel & Cortosis in the space port.

Then he taps his chest and activates his CQ-3.9x holographic image disguise and places a holo image over him self making him appear to be a regular merchant wearing brown robes with blond hair and blue eyes about 5ft 11 inches tall. He used this disguise to try and not cause trouble but to also hide the fact he carried a decent array of weapons.

Before he steps off the ship into the space port he slides two DL-44 heavy blaster pistols under his robes and tucks them in pistol holsters behind his back, as he places the guns behind he flicks his right hand up by his shoulders and waves his hand over his Z-6 jet-pack activating its stand by mode in the event he had to run and things went very bad at least he wouldn't have to wait for his Z-6 jet-pack to warm up and go online.

He slides on his Roamer-6 breather mask and listens to the beautiful soft hum of the Z-6 jet-pack was sound barely even noticeable but his Zabrak military training had taught him to notice simple things like this always paying attention to small little sights and sounds. The last thing he does as he is walking down the ships ramp after his cargo has been removed from the ship by the worker droids.

He would turn around quickly and say :Hey Captain:to the man who flew the hauler as the man turned around and looked at him with a grumpy face the man would groan and say :What:in a gruff tone of voice: Blood Stone would reply :you forgot something captain:then he would look around and make sure no one was looking as he tossed a thermal detonator at the Captain and watched it explode in his face as the captain of the hauler burned alive screaming in pain.

Blood Stone only smiles and says to the worker droids :Grab the other 10 tons of my cargo:, one the droids has stacked all 90 tons of the cargo in the space port, Blood Stone walks down a alley and turns off the holographic projector and returns to his original appearance just encase the space port cameras caught him, now the security would be looking for a entirely different man. He was now wearing long black robes With pale Caucasian skin and medium sized Zabrak horns poking out of his head.

He would reach into his robes and pull out a cigar as he found as lighter in his other pocket with his left hand ,he simply sits there and smiles enjoying the day puffing his cigar the smell of burnt flesh not bothering him at all. Out of the corner of his eye he would noticed a security portal and yell to them:Hey you might want to clean that mess up over there honest merchants like me have business to do:

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Starchaser could be well known if he advertised himself, or there was a very observant person wanting to run into him. He had a few ships, but he didn’t rotate them as nearly as fast as he thought he should. But he was working on setting up something new, something to give hi the option of a freighter beyond his YT-2000, and that ship was probably going to be worked by another Starchaser associate. Smuggling was good money, and while he was out running for the Alliance, who knew? Right now though, nothing really mattered. He had the point of stygium and that had to get gotten.

Then he could start to have some real fun.

The spacer took a seat and nodded to the… what, novice spacer, before him. “Meh, what are they…” He nodded to the collective in the bar. “Going to do to me?” A quick Starchaser smile, so, so very traditionally Corellian, crossed his features.

“What we need to do is just get the getaway vehicle, and the rest of the plan just kind of… happens.” Almost literally. Coren wasn’t really sure how he was going to get the crystals, just that he was going to get them.

 

[Riva Quill]

Riva's brows furrowed a bit. She had assumed she'd have to pay either in credits or errands, but the mention of a getaway vehicle was concerning. Break ins and theft weren't exactly above her, she'd done it enough times as a youth beneath the planet-city of her homeworld, but it was something she'd hoped to leave behind for a variety of reasons.

"I'm assuming you at least have a plan for this getaway vehicle," she stated rhetorically. If the man had no actual plan beyond acquiring a vehicle then, hopefully, he at least figured out how to get the thing to start off with.

She sipped at the beer in her mug and did her best not to make a face at the taste of the brew. For an underworld contact and stygium broker - stygium thief? - the man seemed well off enough and carried himself, or at least gave the appearance of carrying himself, with plenty of confidence. That gave her some sense of solace if the man knew his way around the job, at least, though she could always be wrong. She was, as much as she hated to admit it, very new to the whole back room dealing ordeals.

"What's my role in this 'what happens, happens' plan of yours?" she asked after a moment before setting her drink down on the table.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Salvador Grim"] [member="Chekīta Kaie"]

 

[Salvador Grim]

As he steps into the Cantina , he would notice to people in the back of the room looking rather shady and talking not very loud all he gather from there conversation was tiny bits and pieces it surely something diabolic it appeared as if they were intentionally trying to be sneaky.
He would grab a couple of drinks at the bar and put them on a tray as he held the tray with his right hand, he would slip his left hand behind his back and tightly grip the handle of one of his pistols behind his robes. He does his best to appear humble as he walks towards the table.
Then he stops when he is about three feet from the table , just hearing the last of what the women said before she put down her drink "What's my role in this 'what happens, happens' plan of yours?".
He makes a point of coughing rather loud:Ahem: "Thirsty are we , i noticed you just finished your drink , i thought i would bring the table another round: As he says this he slides his thumb on his left hand , turning off the safety on his heavy laser pistol then he whips up his left hand and points the pistol towards the woman and drops the tray in his right hand and grabs his second pistol from behind his back and points it at the man.
Forgive me Madam, but i will need the pleasure of your company:He says sarcastically with his guns pointed towards both the woman and the man: See i have come to this planet searching for some crystals :he would pause for a moment giving her brain a chance to catch up to the situation. "i know you know what i am talking about" So here is the deal , you show me were to find my crystals i dont shoot you and i will trade you 40 tons of Quadranium you can sell in a space port. He grins and winks then makes a sly motion with the gun in his left hand as he draws a invisible line across his neck.
:Or i could shoot you both and hire a local guide and take my chances finding the stones on my own , then leaving this planet in my nice new cargo hauler:
He would laugh ever so slightly :Choices , choices oh what should i do , the next choice is up to you:He smiles and nods his head drawing back down on them both with his pistols. [member="Riva Quill"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

If they had a way to move? Then life was easy. Jump in, push the throttle, and anything you were stealing? Well, Coren could jump the poodoo out of it, to the next star system, or at least somewhere else on the planet. It was why he liked the Aing-Tii, the freedom of movement their school of thought provided him allowed him to be anywhere and everywhere quickly. But it did take concentration if he was trying to actually fold something. No, here he was going to approach it as blue collar as he could.

“I’ve always got a plan.” He nodded and took a sip of his glass. Most of the time it was to ‘wing it’ but he had seen a few cargo vehicles, and if he could get one of them? Getting the goods to a freighter and off world should be easy. Just had to bribe the right people. Yeah, with credits, no Force tricking hand waving was going to work here.

“Well, why don’t you let me know the skills you’re comfortable with advertising?” Looking around the room, Coren was waiting, he wasn’t really reaching out to read people, but it didn’t take the Force to clue someone into the fact that they were being watched. And the man who approached? That was not good. No, it wouldn’t do at all.

That was when the Force clued Coren into what was going on, and as the first gun came out, Coren held his glass up. A deep breath, the pilot leaned on his elbow and took a sip of the drink. Tossing Riva a ‘can you believe this look,’ the Corellian was positioning himself.

“Yeah, and who might you be?”

[member="Salvador Grim"]
[member="Riva Quill"]

 

[Riva Quill]

Before she could answer, much less compose any real answer at least, they were interrupted. The dull glint of weaponry distracted her from the newcomer's words and her contact's glance for a moment. It wasn't the first time someone had pointed a gun at her, but it had admittedly been a long time since that had happened. Her eyes flicked at the man across from her and saw that he had shifted, his movements casual. Or, at least, they seemed that way. She'd been around the more dangerous bar-folk and underworld hired guns to note the subtle tensing and awareness, not that she could do the same with any degree of success.

She picked up the mug of beer and held it close to her head, nursing the beverage a bit to give her hands something to do as the rest of her body tensed to move quickly if needed. She kept one eye not on the gun, but the man's hand, though she also did her best to glance over the man and his gear. Most, if not all, of it was high grade gear from the pistols he carried to the equipment festooning his person. If she had to guess, the man was most likely an agent of one of the many galactic factions, possibly a hired killer favored by an underworld cartel.

The problem was, though, that walking up and whipping out pistols in an unknown bar on a planet full of people suffering under economic despair while wearing shiny, expensive equipment was a good way to wind up beaten, arrested, or dead. Around them, patrons took notice and Riva knew from experience that most people in dive bars on the back end of the galaxy were usually armed. She just hoped she could hit the deck fast enough if violence ensued.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Salvador Grim"]

 

[Salvador Grim]

[member="Riva Quill"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

He looks as if he is almost disappointed when the person asks “Yeah, and who might you be?". He smiles kind of off handed they waves the gun around is his left hand casually :Well , I am a privateer a seeker of fortunes and salvager of spacial wrecks, I travel across the galaxy in search of fortunes: He would pauses in speech for a moment and take a look around the shady people in this bar as he casually spun the gun in his left hand like a cowboy.

:Here is the deal , i am a privateer i do not care if your hunted , or if the hutt want you dead i came here for one reason for some precious cargo and i have a fair bit of cargo to trade for it: I also have a rather decent cargo hauler in the space port , recently acquired: He smirks casually assuming the must have heard the explosion from his grenade when he killed the captain.

:How about we make a understanding , i know check points and how to get around them in my business it is very important, You help me acquire this metal sir and i will drop you off any were in the galaxy after we split the loot of course: He would slid his gun in his left hand back behind his back as he looked around the bar again and pulled a item off his Belt know as a military grade Black market thermal detonator, he would toss it on the floor about three feet from him.

: As for the rest of you kind folks in this bar , i would suggest you clear out thats a level 3 military grade thermal detonator, he taps his mask with his left finger i am covered when she goes off i will make it out , how confident are the rest of you scumbags in the chance to potentially rob my shinny gear. Yeah its worth a small fortune but be certain, there is a 90% Chance most of you will die by the time i snap my fingers. he looks to the patrons in the bar casually as he stretches his shoulder and reveals a tattoo on his neck, A rather famous piece of ink in the underworld, His Pirate lord ink the mark letting other scumbags know that he was a crime lord and a pirate not one to be screwed with. The only thing faster then his trigger finger was his temper:.

This was a serious bluff because even with his face mask to prevent his from chocking on the smoke from the fire and his jet pack to help him fly away there was still a slim chance with all his gear he would make it out in one piece if things went south. he was a Privateer , his entire life was about odds and bluffs and he hoped his bluff would be good enough to get the bar to clear out so he could chat with this man and woman with out the disruptions of this shady people. He would casually look around the room and wait for the response of the man to his proposed deal and he still had the pistol in his right hand pointed towards there table. He reaches into his jacket and and grabs a smoke out of his inner pocket and sticks it in his mouth, then he winks at the man as he snaps his fingers and a small spark of force lightning lights his smoke. :As for your question :They Call Me Grim:

 

[Aay'han Ruyot]

Aay'han didn't care about the attention he drew, a man suited in full Mandalorian armor tended to do that. He was tired, exhausted, and starving.
He slumped into a stool in front of the main counter of a dive bar, his back turned to the entire room. A statement of defiance, "Just try to get me, come and see what happens". Defiance was not on his mind however.
The smell... fragrant, yet rotting. How irritating. His fist came down on the counter with a few credits for food and drink. It was all he had. Osik, he didn't even have enough to buy passage off of this shev'la planet. He sensed hostility, confusion, and wonderment. That smell. Food. Death. He had a splitting headache.
He muttered a vibrant string of curses in at least fifty known and unknown languages to himself.
Broken, that is what he was, broken. No hope. An endless meaningless life in the gutters of the galaxy. He kept failing because he wanted too. Why not? He had nothing, cared for nothing, killed everything.
He slammed his helmet onto the counter, revealing an already scarred face, with bright blue eyes, that looked as if they were dying away. He ate, he drank. Who knew when he would again.

 

[Aay'han Ruyot]

A level 3 thermal detonator. Aay'han raised his eyebrows and turned his hard eyes to the man who made the threat. He stared at him intently, an unrelenting gaze that would even make his own skin crawl with warning or anticipation.
He was using the cursed Force. His capabilities were nothing to 90% of the galaxies Force wielders, but he could sense an aura about the man. He was nervous.
The arutii was bluffing. Aay'han laughed raggedly, but openly. The laugh of a deranged man.
He shoved his helmet on, choosing a straw to finish his strong alcoholic beverage.

"One", his voice was already harsh and grating, only made worse by his helmet's filters, "My armor would withstand that blast. Two ", he lifted two fingers, "When I have survived, I will be very very angry. And I would want revenge."

Aay'han looked at him pointedly. He had called his bluff, now was his sensing correct. Aay'han knew he wold survive, what shape he would be in, he wasn't sure. But he also knew one thing. If the man decided to activate a detonator here, he would die himself. Aay'han suspected he wasn't prepared to do that, as most aruetiise weren't.
Aay'han had nothing to live for, so why not live life dangerously?

[member="Salvador Grim"] | [member="Riva Quill"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

Kaie had been keeping an eye on the duo that had been conversing in the corner but had ultimately decided not to get involved, she was done for the day in terms of work and for the most part could not care less about what business they were getting up to illegal or not. She knew that how the galaxy worked, what made it tick, how things got to one place to another, and damaging said business would just ruin someone’s day on some other world, and Kaie didn't like to get on people’s bad side if she could help it. So, for now she remained at the bar, slowly sipping away at her drink, well that was until some two new individuals entered the room.

The first was an obviously a man, but something about him said, big business, though on a planet like this it could have been many things, though with constant shipping going about Kai had a suspicion that he might have been a freighter owner of sort, maybe not a pilot himself, but owned some sort of transport firm. Though the way he acted, coming in and ordering some drink, proceeding to take them over to said shifty people in the corner booth made her think said possible business owner was not all that upstanding. Was he looking for workers, or did he just want to get in on some possible deal going down?

Said thoughts where cut short a bit when someone of similar calibre to her entered the room, said man obviously being a Mandalorian, though his Armor decals and decoration speaking a bit more than anything else. Though not a Mando herself, Kaie had been raised by one, and as such had developed and understanding of their culture, language and the major clans, as such this man, and his armour did not seem to reminisce any current clan she knew of. Could it have been fake markings, no, it was to detail, and making up a fake decal of one’s heritage and clan allegiance was a no no, unless you wanted a mark on you head, 'well, this is interesting'.

Kaie reached her hand over, to tap on said Mando shoulder after he sat down, eager to see what sort of reaction she'd get out of him, but halted when she heard the familiar sound of a metal object hitting the floor, though it could have been anything Kaie’s first though was grenade. Said thrower being the man from before, most likely wanting to clear out the place and keep his little secret deal safe, and though Kaie may have just let it be, she did not take kindly to people trying kill her

Standing up Kaie put her black skull face balaclava back on, taking a position next to the Mando as he went about calling on the man’s bluff, well it was not really a call on a bluff, more of saying, 'that ain't going to work' but regardless said night just got a whole lot more interesting, "Elek, a akaanir, Ni've Ke'pare par ibic".

l [member="Aay'han Ruyot"] l [member="Salvador Grim"] l [member="Riva Quill"] l [member="Coren Starchaser"] l

 

[Coren Starchaser]

So, Coren was now dealing with this guy. One unknown was something, but there was a collectedness about Riva that he took as a good thing. As for Coren, he wasn’t too nervous about anything that was going on here. The Force was one of his greatest weapons, but even if that failed? He had a good blaster at his side. Something that most people seemed to not account for. But also, he never dressed the part of a Jedi. The pilot was listening to the man’s shpeil and looked over at Riva.

His look only said one thing.

Do you believe this guy.

Felt practiced, and as if the man had prepared to threaten everyone in the galaxy each morning on the refresher in front of the mirror. The Corellian’s eyebrows raised. Really, promising to drop him off anywhere in the galaxy? That was cute, really. But the man didn’t suspect that anyone else had their own ships? Coming to Aetan wasn’t a place that most lived on, hell, in this bar everyone was from somewhere else.

When the detonator came out, though, Coren let go of his pistol. Right, so maybe he wasn’t going to knee-cap the fully armored space pirate. Or was he a privateer? Didn’t matter. There were other lives, not to mention the whole damn dome, at risk. Looking at the rest in the bar, and grinning, he nodded. Seemed he could only threaten so many folks, but a mando, and the rest in the bar. This was not a place to be threatened lightly.

“You bring up some good points…” He spoke when the man took his smoke out. “Grim.” There was the name. “One thing to also consider this thought, though.” He was just talking at this point, the Force was already around him, you threaten a Force master, guess what? It doesn’t go well. He waved his hand and a bubble would be created, surrounding both the privateer-pirate and the thermal detonator.

With that, Coren looked to Riva, and nodded to the door.

[member="Chekīta Kaie"]
[member="Aay'han Ruyot"]
[member="Salvador Grim"]
[member="Riva Quill"]