Private Knock Knock, Open Up the Door its Real

[Ryv]

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Concord Dawn
The Rusty Chalice

Concord Dawn had seen its fair share of violence and death across its existence. Once home to a Mandalorian terrorist cell known as 'Death Watch,' it became a regular battleground to assert galactic dominance. With the Sith Empire's current claim to the planet, intergalactic traffic not sanctioned by the Empire ceased almost immediately to permit a heavy focus on mining beskar and fueling the imperial war machine. Those who now call the planet home were either trapped or looking for a fresh start where no one would look for them. Most of them, anyway. Ryv wasn't there by choice. He'd been dragged halfway across the galaxy, strapped to a table, and nearly dissected by a senile Sith Lord looking to entertain himself at the Jedi's expense. Months went by before a group of Mandalorian's recruited the kiffar to their cause and helped him escape. The labor camp destroyed during their escape; many of the prisoners left to assimilate back into Concordian culture until they could make an escape off-world.​

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Ryv's escape led him away from Concord Dawn for a brief few weeks before he found himself dragged back to the moon by a bounty hunter looking to cash in on the Jedi bounty. Narrowly escaping the clutches of the Sith once again, Ryv managed to disappear and slip into obscurity. Weeks passed before he surfaced again, this time choosing to take an evening in the Rusty Chalice. Squatting out in an abandoned apartment without much food or drink left him wanting something a bit more tangible. ​

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Striding into the cantina, Ryv chose to take a seat slightly off-center at the bar. He leaned against the wooden countertop, his chin propped up in the palm of his hand. He gently rapped his knuckles against the bar, ordering water and a plate of steamed nerf and noodles. Likely the laziest meal that could be put together, it also happened to be the cheapest and still somewhat delicious. He turned and peered about the small town's only cantina, his brows furrowing as he came to realize why the establishment earned its name. Half of the structure collapsed in on itself, rotted wood and broken furniture strewn about as if the owner couldn't be bothered to clean up. The other half might as well have been made of gold, considering how clean and well kept it was. A few different groups of workers sat about, chatting about their day or the things they disliked about the sith.​

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All in all, a regular day in the Rusty Chalice.​

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Zhani Amadine ​

 

[Zhani Amadine]

Zhani had already taken her place at that point, just on the decent side of the bar, nursing some sort of multilayered sickly-sweet dessert item with garishly colorful toppings and giving anyone she though was getting substandard dishes the stinkeye. And, yes, that did include certain persons who ordered steamed nerf and noodles. Steaming was really an offense against the culinary arts, with very few exceptions. Braising, yes. Frying, of course. Sauteeing went without saying. But steaming? Leaving the meat flavorless and grey? What sort of uncultured herder of said animals would allow this to happen?

Beyond her culinary misgivings, she gave no heed to the rumblings against the Sith; only newly minted herself, she had no strong feelings for or against them, though she was fairly sure her teacher would wring her neck if he knew her thoughts on the matter. But he didn't, at least not at the moment, and that suited her just fine. Outwardly, she gave no real sign of affiliation; she was dressed in a black bodysuit of rather immodest cut, with flashy neon accents of green and magenta and no real outward sign of weaponry.

What was she doing there, in what amounted to not much above the worst of slums? It might have been her master had some sort of business here, or perhaps she was just stretching her legs. Either way, mostly irrelevant. Zhani was here to eat dessert and scoff.

 

[Ryv]

Once Ryv's plate hit the countertop before him, he slid a credit chip towards the proprietor and focused on the meal. He speared a portion of the meat with his fork, twirled the noodles around the utensil, and brought it up before fitting the food between his lips. He chewed in silence, considering the flavor of the steamed dish. It wasn't the worst he'd ever had, but certainly far from the best. He took a sip of the warm beverage and set the eating utensil down. His attention slipped up to the bartender, where he offered the burly human male a nod and a smile. Unsurprisingly, the working man paid the kiffar little attention. Instead, he lifted another plate and a pair of drinks and delivered them to a table occupied by a couple of folks who likely just got off work.

"Kinda rude, but whatever," Ryv mumbled to himself as he looked to his left. Once he met the scowling face of Zhani, he straightened a bit in surprise. With nothing better to say or do, he offered her the same smile he gave the bartender before returning his attention to the plate before him. As he ate, he considered the brief interaction. Why was she looking at him with such distaste? Her bodysuit set her apart in a small town of miners and other laborers, perhaps a bounty hunter? Unlikely, he thought to himself. What would she be doing here without a weapon? If she knew I was as a Jedi with a bounty on my head, she wouldn't carelessly move on her mark unprepared. More importantly, why was she so damn hot? Completely unreasonable, he mused in silence.

Those silent musings of his quickly ended as the door slammed open, and a series of booted feet marched into the establishment. Ryv looked over his shoulder, spotting a trio of armed mercenaries. A rhodian, a devaronian, and a zabrak each took up positions at the bar surrounding Ryv. The largest of the trio, the red-skinned devaronian, positioned himself between the zeltron and kiffar, while the other two took up seats on Ryv's right. The Jedi continued to eat his meal in silence, hoping to avoid drawing any attention to himself.

"Oi, Durgen. Get yer lazy arse out here and bring us some drinks," the boisterous devaronian hollered out and slammed a fist against the counter. He looked towards the zeltron Sith and winked before looking to the barkeep as he strode out. "One for the girl as well."

The rhodian snorted in laughter, while the zabrak focused on the kiffar seated beside him. After a moment, the horned man turned his attention to Durgen and set down a holodevice. He activated it and revealed a projection of a beskar-clad mandalorian.

"We're looking for a group of mandalorians who recently escaped the Beast. Any word on strangers appearing in town?"

Durgen shifted his attention to the zabrak and shook his head. "No one escapes the Beast. They say ol' Irveric Tavlar heads its security," the trio of bounty hunters all winced at once at the Lord General's mention. "Not many fresh faces neither," his gaze momentarily flickered to Ryv, then Zhani, before returning to the zabrak just as a certain kiffar's face flashed across the projection.

"<You don't say?>" the rhodian wheezed out in its native tongue before action erupted at the counter.

Before the bounty hunters could draw their weapons and turn them onto Ryv, the kiffar pushed himself off the counter and dove behind a long table. He flipped it over and pressed himself against it as the shots slammed into the durasteel surface. He took hold of the lightsaber hilt at his side and peeked over the table.

"I'll give you schmucks this opportun-" Ryv snapped back undercover as a shot narrowly whizzed overhead. "If you walk, I'll let you live. Otherwise, its gonna get really messy, man."

Zhani Amadine ​

 

[Zhani Amadine]

Zhani was only vaguely aware of the exchange between the kiffar at the bar next to her and the merc trio at first, but the mention of drinks caught her attention. It was not in the zeltron's vocabulary to say no to free drinks. She returned the devaronian's wink with a grin and an exaggeratedly salacious wink of her own, taking another lingering bite of her dessert.

She idly eavesdropped on the rest of the conversation, now that her interest was piqued. Escapees from the Beast? Well, that really was kind of interesting, if true. No wonder this was apparently a hot spot for bounty hunters. Gotta catch your mistakes before they leave the system, right? She turned to peer at the holoprojection to see who these escapees were just as it flicked from some random Mandalorian to...

hey wait a sec

Before any of them, including herself, could react, she watched as the escaped kiffar upturned a table and dove behind it, shocked mercs grasping for their weapons. Bold guy, that one. No wonder he escaped.

She turned and leaned her back against the bar, watching the brawl unfold with a smugly gleeful expression. How fortunate was she? Front row seat entertainment, and she even had a snack--

A shot went wide and hit a bottle sitting not too far from her on the bar, showering her and her dessert in a mist of booze and slivers of glass. One particularly large shard stuck right out of the fancy topping, clearly visible.

Now they done messed up. "Okay, it was funny at first, but someone's paying for this." The zeltron stood up from the barstool, her tone clearly incensed, and with a fine overhand pitch she chucked the rest of her dessert, serving dish and all, into the face of the nearest merc. The unfortunate devaronian reeled backwards, temporarily blinded, and she took no time in balling up a fist and throwing a haymaker right into the side of his face just below the ear. Before his friends could react, she followed it up with a swift knee to the groin. His cry of agony as he crumpled to the ground definitely got their attention, however.

She grinned at the remaining two as they trained their weapons on her. She reached for her belt instinctively, hand grasping for... nothing?

Oh. Right. She didn't have her lightsaber. Darth Avernus had seen fit to cut it in half during their little encounter. She cursed inwardly, trying not to let it reach her expression. Of all the things to forget, how had that little detail slipped her mind...

Ah well. No use crying over broken lightsabers. She winked, kicked her stool at the now very pissed mercs, and dove behind the kiffar's makeshift table shelter to barely avoid a hail of response fire.

She looked over at him, supressing a cackle as the adrenaline set in. "Hey, how's it going?"

 

[Ryv]

More than a dozen shots thudded against Ryv's makeshift cover, sending a tinge of frustration through his mind. Why did so many feel the need to take on the Jedi? Surely they'd of realized by now a trio of bounty hunters armed with blaster pistols weren't a match for anyone of his caliber. He peered over the table and narrowed his eyes on the rhodian. Ryv could feel excitement and fear emanating from the blue-skinned alien. Moving his attention to the zabrak, he felt the cold exterior of a practiced killer, one that wouldn't turn away from his prey without a good enough reason. The last of the trio, the devaronian, seemed almost sadistic. Had fate been kinder, he may have made a powerful Sith.

Instead, the red-skinned alien took a plate of dessert to the face, followed by a powerful blow to the groin as the zeltron joined the fray. Ryv winced at the sight and perked a brow as she reached for something. Once the zabrak turned his attention on her and aimed his blaster, Ryv reached out with the force. As the bolt of energy exploded from the barrel of the weapon, it momentarily locked in place. The zabrak pulled his weapon away in confusion, but the bolt went off as the barrel of the blaster passed through it. The small explosion sent the weapon whizzing away as the bounty hunter pulled back a smoking hand with a yelp. Ryv shifted his attention to the zeltron as she slid into place beside him.

"I'm not sure what I should say, but uh, holy shit that pretty sick. Haven't seen a zeltron in a barfight before," Ryv looked back as the devaronian wiped away the foodstuffs from his face and growled.

"Vrok, get yer karkin' blaster and start shooting," the devaronian lifted his weapon once more and sent a few more shots slamming into the cover. "This ain't working, dammit," the hulking alien moved throughout the bar quickly, taking up a position to the left of their cover. He took aim and fired at the zeltron. Ryv surged into action in response, summoning the lightsaber from within his jacket to his hand with the aid of the force. The familiar snap-hiss of the weapon echoed throughout the room as a baleful red glow illuminated their surroundings. He batted the shot away with a flick of his wrist before clearing the length of the room in seconds. The kiffar slammed the hilt into the larger man's temple and dropped him to the floor. He turned on his heel and kicked the unconscious man's blaster towards Zhani.

The rhodian's fear became palpable, flooding through the room, easily felt by the two empath force users. The zabrak on the other hand maintained his composure, taking out a grenade from his belt. He tossed it towards the table the zelton hid behind, sticking it to the surface before diving behind the counter. The blue-skinned hunter followed suit, tossing one of the sticky grenades at Ryv as well.

Ryv pushed out with the force, sending it flying towards the ruined side of the room to stick to the pile of rubble. His amber gaze immediately snapped to his unlikely ally, concern etched across his face.

Zhani Amadine ​