First Reply Trask at Hand

[Zel Sharratt]

Trask at Hand
Trask, Cantina
Tags: Open (First Reply)

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"Pirates delayed shipments again," A grizzled Pantoran scowled. "Bastards."

The blue-skinned man sat at the bar counter in a small cantina, filled with other sailors who were unable to head out to sea. Recent pirate attacks had driven them back to the safety of port city, forced to await the arrival of a marshal to clear the threat. An angst was pungent in the air, and most of the patrons spoke about how generally frustrated they were with the entire ordeal. Next to the door, a jukebox played a peppy, overly positive jizz piece, the only source of any positive vibes in the establishment...

"I'd reckon-"

Until the high-pitched whistle of a strange blaster silenced it. A lone man stood in the doorway, covered by distinctive armor and sporting a domed helmet.

"I did not like the song," the man stated bluntly before returning his blaster to it's holster.

None of the patrons contested this. Strange as the new arrival was, there wasn't much they could. After all, he was Mandalorian.

Zel was in a strange headspace. Without his sect, purpose had been stripped away from his life. His found father would surely find his state disgraceful... Found his state disgraceful. All he did was wander now, clinging to mythology in the hopes of achieving what? Self realization? Some kind of lost knowledge? It was unclear, but all the Blubreen knew was legends. Even as the galaxy sought to leave him hollow, the call of myth and mystery tugged at the rope around his very soul. It was an addiction. He had to know what he could about whatever he could.

The bizarre Mandalorian sat down at the bar, sliding credits to the owner. Some for his drink, the rest for the cost of the jukebox.

"Bloody rancor, extra bitters," Zel stated before returning to his silence.

With that, the bartender got to work as if nothing had happened. Patrons began to chatter, and Zel sat at the bar counter wordlessly. There were secrets on Trask, something he intended on finding. Old rumors of an age long before the ancestors, locked away in the planet's ice. Of course, he needed more intel before action could be taken.

He'd wait for the sailors to start talking.

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim had been sitting at the bar for a long long time. In actuality it had been ten minutes. Jim Pehico wasn't a patient man. Every time he made a meeting with a potential client he made sure to start with the time sharp. He had a meeting with a local official to try and smuggle some necessary cargo into the city. Jim did many things while waiting, he ordered drinks, joked with the regulars, even flirted with a beautiful Twi'lek as she walked by. Jim, who was getting increasingly more impatient as every second passed, hopped up to change the music on the juke box, something a little bit more lively.

"It's always the bureaucrats who get cold feet making the deals" Jim sighed to himself as he looked through the songs, tapping his foot with impatience.

Jim had been out of the smuggling game for a while now. He was rusty, and being rusty in this line of work was dangerous. Jim however is as arrogant as they come and didn't sweat the possibility that he had lost a step.

Suddenly a blaster went off followed by a small sputtering explosion causing Jim's ears to ring, particularly because he was sitting next to the juke box.

"I did not like the song," The man said. Jim looked on over noticing the distinct armor of a Mandalorian warrior.

Jim, who was a few drinks down now, would have usually made a move on someone doing that, but Jim did not mess with Mandalorians. Known throughout the galaxy as Fierce warriors who were as vicious as they were cunning. Jim looked around the bar, specifically the faces of the onlookers. All of the faces were saying the same thing he was thinking, no way am I messing with Mandalorian.

Still rattled by the small explosions set off by the blaster fire into the Jukebox, as well as the combination of Alcohol, Jim tried to slip past several tables on the way towards the bar however he accidentally bumped into a patron's chair landing him in the lap of a visiting Wookie, spilling it's drink all over Jim.

Jim looks up sheepishly and says "I may have fallen for you, but don't get any ideas, big guy." Hoping the Wookiee has a sense of humor. The response outrages the Wookiee. He roars as he throws Jim lifting him from his lap to over his head into another patronage who jumps at the chance to fight a Wookie. This commotion starts a brawl on the side of the bar that Jim is on.

 

[Zel Sharratt]

Trask
Tags: Jim Pehico

​

Zel turned back, watching as the bar suddenly erupted into violence.

"Foolish," he observed, "Such an eagerness to fight, but I wouldn't want to be him when the Wookiee chooses to dislocate his arm."

The Mandalorian turned around again, lifting his helmet and downing his beverage in a split second before letting it fall back down. He seemed unaffected by the effects of the alcohol.

"I'll cover their damages as well," he sighed, sliding over a few extra credits.

"Strange fellow for a jukebox blaster," the bartender remarked. "What's your deal, Mando?"

"I'd call myself a researcher," Zel shrugged, "Traveling this wide galaxy in search of the stories of our past, lost to the sands of time. Trask is just one of but hundreds of locations I've stopped at on my travels-" he paused for a moment as a still bleeding arm was tossed over the bar counter. "Ah, there's the dislocation. You know, the Wookiees are not only a people of physical strength. They're a hardened race of warriors, developing for thousands of years battle techniques to fend off the hostile environment that forged them, along with the blight of their distant-"

"I don't care," the man behind the counter cut him off, sliding the Mandalorian another drink. "It's on the house, just shut your trap."

The man stepped away to clean up the blood and notable loose arm, leaving Zel alone at the counter. The Mandalorian frowned beneath his helmet, staring down into the glass of alcohol he had been passed.

"Such a rude planet," he noted.

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim was still recovering from being thrown by the Wookiee he looked over to see the oddly dressed Mandalorian talking to the bartender as the bar room brawl kept making more and more of a mess. As Jim stood up an arm whizzed by his head. Presumably the one who went to tackle the Wookiee. Suddenly Jim was punched in the stomach by a random brawler. this knocked the wind out of Jim and he leaned forward, which the brawler used as an opportunity to upper cut Jim causing him to stumble back. His aggressor, a Trandoshan male, snarled at Jim to come back here. Jim waited for the Trandoshan to approach and carefully laid out a strategy. What he wasn't expecting was the Mandalorian sitting right behind him. The Trandoshan charged Jim cocked his arm and tried to punch Jim as hard as he can. Jim ducked the punch but where he was expecting the Trandoshan to go over the bar. The Trandoshan smashed his fist right into the back of the Mandalorians helmet. The cracks of multiple fractures from hitting pure Mandalorian Steel sounded like a fireworks display. The Trandoshan grabbed his arm in pain which gave Jim enough time to deliver a sweep kick, putting the Trandoshan out of the fight.

Once again acting before thinking Jim had already reached over the bar and grabbed a rag and some cleaning spray. Before the Mandalorian even had the chance to move Jim sprayed the back of the helmet and wiped down where the Trandoshan made impact.

"Don't worry your helmet doesn't even have a scuff on it. Good as new." Jim said awkwardly with a chuckle.

Zel Sharratt