Hasjo Hallu sat in a far corner with a young Twi'Lek, no older than six, seven or eight. Her name was [member="Cleopatra"], and she was the apprentice of Hasjo Hallu. One of the youngest members of the Silver Jedi Order. At the metalloid Nautolan's waist was a series of weapons clinging to a belt. Some were familiars, others not quite so. The Saberstaff had a great elongated hilt. The Lightsaber Pike, a double-bladed weapon, one side shorter than the other. Then the exotic Lightwhip, few knew how to use them, even fewer knew how to defend against them. A DC-17 Heavy Blaster Pistol. Lastly, a strange metallic baton. It appeared to be nothing more than that. On the table was a training lightsaber, it didn't main or kill like the traditional lightsaber, but it could certainly stun someone into unconsciousness when set to the highest power output. Some of the locals seemed to know Hasjo from his far and in-between visits to the planet. He appeared like nothing of his former self, a husk inside a shell. The Nautolans were a powerful and proud species, yet this particular one was forced to live off a mobile life support system, the MLSS-1. It was the result of a great battle in Coruscant against the invading Sith, he had been gunned down. Six incendiary slugs had placed him flat on his back, and many for quite some time believed him dead. Mostly his enemies. He had many of them, a great deal many. He was a Sith Hunter. Hasjo looked up at the new patron entering the cantina, [member="Max Scorpio"]. The man was here to help him rid a Gungan farmer named Ned of poachers killing his Kaadu herd.
