Public We Drink to Escape

[Pyppa]

"REFILL, MADAM?"

The bartender droid's voice cut through Pyp's malaise like a knife. She glared up from beneath her cowl, pulling her cup towards herself. Maybe the droid had a point. The slop she was drinking tasted like battery acid, and was twice as bad for you, but she'd knocked it back all the same. Quicker than she'd realised too, which might cause problems. Nobody looked like they were about to pounce on her, but if she was laid out after a heavy session, that might change.

"No thank you," she replied finally, groaning as she sat up and stretched a little. Her eyes searched across the rest of the bar, checking if anyone was paying attention. Too many eyes on Chiss nowadays. Couldn't do anything without the looks. Soon as they noticed those red eyes, things turned strange. If it wasn't people trying to be painfully sympathetic about her homeworld dying, it was freaks telling her she didn't belong there.

She didn't really belong anywhere, but she sure as well wasn't going to let some rum-soaked Rodian tell her that.

"EXCELLENT MADAM." There was a whirr inside the droid's head; a calculation left unseen. "YOUR TAB MUST BE SETTLED. WE ACCEPT CREDITS OR PRECIOUS METALS." Pyp shrugged and reached for her pocket, counting out the credits she'd brought along. Laying them out on the counter, feeling the haze from the drink settling around her. Nearly there and... oh. Oh crap.

"Hey, I'm just short a little," she told the droid, pushing the rest towards them. "I just need like, to grab some from my ship..."

"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE." A metal hand reached out to lock around her wrist. "YOU WILL PROVIDE SUITABLE PAYMENT OR YOU WILL BE DETAINED."

 

[Iella Sunscream]

Fresh off of her assassination attempt of a Galactic Alliance Senator, Iella had left Empress Teta, and kept it pushing. That was how it worked after all, do a job, keep moving. Do another, keep moving. It had led her to this seedy establishment. Currently smashing a double nerf-burger with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes, Iella bit multiple times and chewed, putting down the burger and glancing to the droid behind the counter curiously. Picking up her ale, she washed some of the burger down before glancing over at the Chiss a little way down from her.

There was no one sitting in between them (As if it would have mattered) and Iella could hear plainly what was being said between the pair. Though for the most part she minded her business. It was terrible what happened to Csilla, she couldn't help but wonder how in the hell does one even survive something like that. A planet getting destroyed? War on the ground was one thing, taking away entire planets? It was beyond the scope of sense to her. Warfare taken to insane lengths. Do the Sith not need planets to live or something?

Do they enjoy... Anything?

She glanced back to her plate, biting her burger again and getting a really good bite, tasting a concoction of everything that was on the burger before chewing and swallowing her food. A little more drink taken.

"Hey, I'm just short a little," she told the droid, pushing the rest towards them. "I just need like, to grab some from my ship..."

She put a fist in front of her mouth, burping lightly, and was now somewhat invested in the situation. Not commenting but observing.

"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE." A metal hand reached out to lock around her wrist. "YOU WILL PROVIDE SUITABLE PAYMENT OR YOU WILL BE DETAINED."

Her initial reaction was to pull her rail pistol and scrap this thing, but it could've been owned by anybody. And she now knew it was very easy to bite off more than you could chew in this galaxy.

"Hey, let her go... I'll pay her tab, put it on mine..."

She said loud enough to be heard, not yelling, and not really overreacting to the situation. She would wait for the droid to confirm that, then go back to her burger, not expecting a thanks. She just knew Chiss were going through the Fething wringer right now. She was empathetic enough to know how much that must have sucked. A couple credits at the bar was the least she could do.

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

Ting.

Ting.

Gear jingling on armor made it's way into the relatively calm cantina. There was an air of stillness- the Mandalorian entered, carrying something unpleasant in a sack over to a group over in the corner. He didn't say a word- an exchange of credits, and no more questions asked.

He hated a lot of things. Droids, being one of them. A few nasty run-ins with them lately, but mostly- medical droids. He stopped, slapping a credit chit on the counter, looking between the two women.

He didn't say anything else, though his eyes lingered on the Chiss woman a little longer. But his head turned towards the assassin. He could tell- warriors, soldiers, Commandos all sort of had this air about them. Her muscle structure, her hands. It spoke volumes. He didn't need to say anything else, but he knew that she was one to watch out for.

He took his corner in the cantina, waiting for one of the many waitstaff to come and serve him, his hands neatly resting on the table. \

Not a word exchanged, not more than a few cursory glances to the pair of them.

Awkward, or charitable. It was up for debate that he did out of irritation of hearing the droid's squealing or a genuine act of charity.

​

 

[Pyppa]

The metal grip tightened round her wrist. Pain lanced up Pyppa's arm, tugging her closer to the bar. She winced, clutching onto the bar for dear life. The droid might wrench off her arm but she wasn't going without a fight. She looked around for any kind of help.

A voice cut through, promising to pay off her tab. Pyppa looked over and saw a young woman, enjoying her burger, while staring at the two of them. The droid whirred as it's head twisted to stare over at the other woman. It's optics twisted, as if weighing up the weight of her words.

"THAT WILL BE ACCEPTABLE. THIS ESTABLISHMENT THANKS Y-"

Before the droid could finish, it's words were muffled by the clanking thud of someone approaching. A tower of a man, rattling with weapons and armour, stomped up to the bar and slapped that credit chit down. Pyppa wondered if it'd embedded in the top of the bar, with the force he put it down. The droid leaned over and stared for a few seconds at the chit, before an arm reached out and snatched it.

"CREDITS RECEIVED. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED PATRONAGE OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT," it said, to nobody in particular. Finally, the grip loosened and Pyppa yanked her hand back, rubbing her wrist carefully. Shooting the droid a futile glare, she climbed off her seat. She really did not like relying on others, not now, but you had to be thankful when people surprised you.

She waved a hand of thanks to the young woman sitting nearby, offering a slim smile. Mouthing "thanks" to her, because at least she'd tried to help. She expected nothing much else, leaving her to enjoy her burger as Pyppa went over to the corner, staring at the metal-clad man who'd saved her butt.

"You didn't have to do that, y'know," Pyppa said, folding her arms defensively. Red eyes studying him, trying to work out his angle. "Thank you."

Iella Sunscream Fenn Stag

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

He didn't turn his head when she approached, but he was still watching her. Mandalorians were eerily aware- in reality it was the helmet's elaborate scanners and systems being hyper aware of the room. It made Mandalorians seem supernaturally aware.

Fenn took his time, measured in his words.

"Droids annoy me too." He said, his head finally turning to face the woman.

"I make enough to spare." He said after a while, gesturing to the seat across from him. Drinking with company. That'd be a new one for him.

Pyppa

​