Measuring Sticks [Phar'ra]

[HK-36]

[member="Phar'ra"]

It was another dusty day on Ryloth, the homeworld of Twi'lek, and HK was furthering his career as a bounty hunter by tracking down a slaver. No big name, no grand infamy, but the target was picking up momentum in the unsavory career quickly, and whoever put the bounty for him, dead or alive, clearly wanted to nip him in the bud before the slaver became real trouble, or competition.

And so there HK was, his hunt led him to a random cantina on the twilight planet, a shady little place with only a handful of patrons, mostly spacers and travelers just rolling through the port-town, the planet, among them the droid's target. And perhaps a particular Sith-inclined Khaleesh.

Or Phar'ra would be just walking into the cantina after the droid, just in time to catch the show that was about to ensue.

The droid strolled up to his target, the machine was clearly armored, not so clearly a droid underneath his suit, and the robes and cloth that covered him, wrapped like a shawl and a hood, along with his black cloak. He put his heavy metal hand on the slaver's shoulder,

"Hey handsome."

The droid whispered to the man, the slaver, a Twi'lek, looked at the machine with eyebrows raised,

"Want to see something?"

The droid kept one hand on the salver's shoulder, the other reached to his helmet. He would pull the helmet-mask off, revealing the metal head beneath, white and silvery like a polished bone, in a way Khaleesh in design, clearly based off of the mask General Grevious wore in the past, slightly mixed with the general shape of an HK-droid's head,

"Sleep."

The droid whispered as from the grill of his mask a dark-green smoke rolled out in the slaver's face, as if the machine was bellowing a toxic breath, and the slaver quickly went limp with the noxious gas entering his lungs. In a trained movement the droid put his helmet back on and used the momentum of the Twi'lek slipping off of his stool to hoist him up and sling him over his metal shoulder.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Ryloth. Another stop for the Kaleesh to explore the galaxy. Another stop to learn and explore the civilizations, so one day they would all be manipulated and controlled by his master. First, however, a drink. The bone faced alien had been sitting just beside the slaver as [member="HK-36"] made his way into the bar. Normally, the Sith wouldn't care as another being walked up to him, or close to. Normally, he wouldn't do more than glance their way. Hell, normally he wouldn't even care if someone beside him was assaulted or abducted.

But this wasn't normal. As the golden gaze of Phar'ra glanced to the commotion, he saw something he hadn't expected. A Kaleeshin mask, or some sort of adaptation, adorned by a droid. A mechanical being without a soul. This struck a cord in the young acolyte, and even as he watched the droid and his bounty leave, anger burned through his veins. Phar'ra was not allowed on his homeworld, but he still burned with the pride of his species.

Who was this, a simple droid, to dishonor his people?

One last gulp of his rum, and he turned from the bar and set out after the HK. No, this would not stand, not if Phar'ra had anything to say about it.

 

[HK-36]

[member="Phar'ra"],

HK heard the footsteps approaching from behind as he neared the exit from cantina, the limp body of a slaver shaking slightly into the rhythm of his steps. The droid stopped in the doorway, turning his head slightly sideways to peer at Phar'ra with one eye from behind the visor of his helmet,

"If you are considering stepping between a droid and his prey, I implore you to reconsider."

He brushed his cloak aside, his hand going down close to a holstered pistol and a cylindrical elongated hilt hanging off of his belt,

"No reason to make things messy, little lady."

The machine whispered to the Kaleesh

 

[Kahlil Noble]

It would be a lie to say Phar'ra didn't take offence to the comment about being a woman. He was unusually tall for his species, and little about him screamed the opposite sex. The only reason why [member="HK-36"] would call him it was to insult. At least he as wearing a mask to cover his annoyed frown. But he didn't respond. In fact, he just stood there, staring at the droid. He was studying the machines face, trying to figure out if he had just been seeing things or not. He quickly learned it wasn't a figment of his mind. More anger ran through him, this time causing his fists to clench. But again, he did nothing. Not here, not in a doorway, not in a crowd. Phar'ra was going to follow the droid, and was very clearly not about to hide it.

 

[HK-36]

[member="Phar'ra"],

The droid was standing in the doorway, starring back at Phar'ra in the moment of tension so thick you could cut it with a lightsaber,

Is this romance?

The droid calculated through his programming for a second as the two masked figures just looked at each other for few seconds. But then the droid saw those fists clenching, his systems picked up on Kaleesh's heart rate increasing, the machine knew that stance, those signs, well, not his first time somebody tried to pick a fight on him at a bar,

No, this is rage. Pure rage.

His calculations concluded, deciding that fight was inevitable. HK's calculations also concluded that he had an advantage over the Kaleesh fighting him in the open, in a crowd, right where they were. At least if the Kaleesh would initiate the fight, for one thing the droid already had his target slung over his shoulder, there would not be any profit from taking the Kaleesh down, so if a fight could be avoided then he would be paid even faster. So before the droid would move on through the door and lead Phar'ra somewhere private to fight him, he would say,

"I know now that my initial scans were correct and you are indeed a female."

Before adding,

"As evident by your empirical lack of balls."

Just to see if the can taunt Phar'ra into lashing out right in public.