Lydeck
Active Member
Coruscant. Oh how easily her loyalty swayed. For eons she belonged to the Republic, the men and woman who stood for democracy and peace. For a brief moment the Planet Metropolis was snatched away from the righteous and rested within the dark tentacles of the Sith. Their grasp of her was brief, the Master of the Dark side defeated and reclaimed by the light. It was only a matter of time before darkness swept over, covering its entirety like a blanket of shade. Oh how easily her loyalty swayed.
Despite the Planets affiliation it was always considered as the Central Hub off the Galaxy which consequently meant that all walks of life entered her atmosphere for whatever reason. Commerce, trade, logistics, illegal activity, dominance. The reasons did not matter. Brahlis was here on business and like many other patrons he found himself inside a Cantina enjoying the company of locals, fine food and a refreshing beverage to quench his thirst. Long past were his days as a Republic Soldier yet he felt some sort of....pull to this Planet. He could not describe it. The Kiffar Mercenary wore an attire consisting of an indigo jacket made of hide, more an accessory than armor. This covered a simple long sleeved black shirt that tucked into an equally normal pair of ebony pants, the only defining feature on this particular clothing were the durasteel knee pads. A pair of high cut leather boots and a shoulder guard complimented his attire, the only mementos he kept during his service to the Republic.
The Vacuum mask he usually wore had retracted to a mere collar that strangled his neck, his weapons of choice holstered in their respective sheaths. The night was young and so far quiet. That all changed in an instant. Before he could say 'bantha poodoo' his amber eyes traced a hovering man whose head exploded like a thermal detonator, brain matter and tissue raining from the ceiling and painting the floor boards red. It was another day in Coruscant. The 'normal' patrons reacted as he expected, fear and horror radiating from them like a vivid smell before evacuating in a timely fashion. The rest who stayed were either unphased or simply did not care. Brahlis was the latter. There was nothing he could do for the unfortunate man anyway. This was Sith territory and only a fool dared challenge them on their turf. "Speaking of fools..."
[Member=Kal Kandossii] entered the bar and made a terrible first impression. Weather intentional or not he had drawn eyes to himself making him the next eligible corpse that littered the bars floors and tables and with the entrance of the Ewok [Member=Warok the Defiler] it seemed that Kals luck had finally run out. Brahlis could not comprehend the reason for such ignorance. He was like a beacon for trouble, not only that but he dared to cause it in this bar of all places. The Kiffar had not talent in the Force so he was unable to identify who exactly wielded the invisible magic. He had two confirmed counts and that was already enough for him. But it mattered not. The more focus that was on the yellow haired male, the less that was on him. For the moment Brahlis kept to himself and enjoyed the company that was present around his table although his entourage had decreased in numbers due to the earlier incident. No matter. Less credits to spend on tips. He grasped the cup and pressed it to his lips, enjoying the cool liquid as it ran down his throat.
Another day in Coruscant.
Despite the Planets affiliation it was always considered as the Central Hub off the Galaxy which consequently meant that all walks of life entered her atmosphere for whatever reason. Commerce, trade, logistics, illegal activity, dominance. The reasons did not matter. Brahlis was here on business and like many other patrons he found himself inside a Cantina enjoying the company of locals, fine food and a refreshing beverage to quench his thirst. Long past were his days as a Republic Soldier yet he felt some sort of....pull to this Planet. He could not describe it. The Kiffar Mercenary wore an attire consisting of an indigo jacket made of hide, more an accessory than armor. This covered a simple long sleeved black shirt that tucked into an equally normal pair of ebony pants, the only defining feature on this particular clothing were the durasteel knee pads. A pair of high cut leather boots and a shoulder guard complimented his attire, the only mementos he kept during his service to the Republic.
The Vacuum mask he usually wore had retracted to a mere collar that strangled his neck, his weapons of choice holstered in their respective sheaths. The night was young and so far quiet. That all changed in an instant. Before he could say 'bantha poodoo' his amber eyes traced a hovering man whose head exploded like a thermal detonator, brain matter and tissue raining from the ceiling and painting the floor boards red. It was another day in Coruscant. The 'normal' patrons reacted as he expected, fear and horror radiating from them like a vivid smell before evacuating in a timely fashion. The rest who stayed were either unphased or simply did not care. Brahlis was the latter. There was nothing he could do for the unfortunate man anyway. This was Sith territory and only a fool dared challenge them on their turf. "Speaking of fools..."
[Member=Kal Kandossii] entered the bar and made a terrible first impression. Weather intentional or not he had drawn eyes to himself making him the next eligible corpse that littered the bars floors and tables and with the entrance of the Ewok [Member=Warok the Defiler] it seemed that Kals luck had finally run out. Brahlis could not comprehend the reason for such ignorance. He was like a beacon for trouble, not only that but he dared to cause it in this bar of all places. The Kiffar had not talent in the Force so he was unable to identify who exactly wielded the invisible magic. He had two confirmed counts and that was already enough for him. But it mattered not. The more focus that was on the yellow haired male, the less that was on him. For the moment Brahlis kept to himself and enjoyed the company that was present around his table although his entourage had decreased in numbers due to the earlier incident. No matter. Less credits to spend on tips. He grasped the cup and pressed it to his lips, enjoying the cool liquid as it ran down his throat.
Another day in Coruscant.
