Something overcame Hurrikaine. A feeling of being threatened. The eyes of a predator were upon him. He saw the influx of customers come in, including the Amani. None could ignore the nigh ten foot tall behemoth. Hurrikaine swept his cybernetic eyes across the crowd and met with the Amani staring straight back at him. The one that had been with the others. The Fallen Jedi stood to his feet abruptly, kicking his chair back. He turned to Parmi, harshly whispering in his droidic tone, "Go!" Hurrikaine began to move, each limb was as rigid in movement as the last. The sound of scraping, rusted metal was audible. Though as he began to move more and more, the sound reduced. Each movement became more fluid. Hurrikaine focused on the Force, that which surrounded him and penetrated all life. He focused on the rust, slowly shedding it from his body to fall in piles in his wake. "Just follow me, I know where to go," Hurrikaine reassured the Togruta. His time in his self-imposed exile had taught him the ins and outs of Mos Eisley. Hurrikaine moved to the far back of the cafe, exiting out the rear door and onto a separate street. The roads were dust ridden and plentiful in criminals. He turned right down an alleyway and left, through the automatic doors of a cantina.
[member="Ghrom Xenos"]
[member="Romeo Sin"]
[member="Ghrom Xenos"]
[member="Romeo Sin"]