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Kyr'am Skirata
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Joined: 03 Aug 2009
Posts: 10

 Post Posted: Tue, August 11th 2009 06:17am    Post subject: Mos Eisley Cantina
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Kyr would never get sick of having three hundred and sixty-degree vision when he had his helmet on. It was such a blessing that he felt almost blind on the rare occasions that he took his helmet off. In situtations such as these he was doubly grateful for the technology present in his helmet, for Kyr'am Skirata was entering the famed Mos Eisley Cantina with nothing but his armor and his A280. Ordinarily he would have walked in armed to the teeth, but the client who called him here was jittery and requested that he forgo the walking army of weapons that he was accustomed to carrying.

Kyr walked straight to the bar, observing the far corners of the bar using his helmet-vision. His client was was, predictably, sitting in one of the far corners with an untouched drink in front of him. The man had the look of a scientist about him and obviously had no business in the Outer Rim. Kyr waved off the bartender and waited for the man to approach the bar.

"Kyram Skirata?" said the man, mispronouncing his first name.
"Close enough," replied Kyr, "you have a job for me?"
"Yes. Will you please accompany me to my lab?"
"You got the credits?"

The scientist handed over a hundred credit chit. Kyr'am pocketed it and followed the man out of the bar, pleased that he would soon have another job.
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Daegon Selanno
Cheapy


Joined: 15 Jul 2009
Posts: 149
Location: Aboard the Star Raptor

 Post Posted: Thu, April 01st 2010 03:22pm    Post subject:
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The hell with it, timeskip ahoy.

One Week Later

“<Captain,>” Mal said, drawing Daegon’s attention away from his drink, “<Forgive me for saying so, but sometimes I question your judgment.>”

Daegon glanced around at the other patrons in Chalmun’s Cantina. Rodians, Barabels, Humans, twi’leks: the bar served them all without question, as it had for over sixty years. The one building in the galaxy beings can come together as individuals, undeterred by race or gender, share a drink…and kill each other. Daegon’s hand was never far from the butt of his slugthrower, and he noticed that Kaor wasn’t even bothering to nurse his drink. His clawed hands were resting on top of the long-barreled rifle in his lap while his eyes scanned the room warily. A hunter is never relaxed, Daegon remembered Kaor saying, not when he could quickly become the hunted.

Whatever the case, Daegon let a casual frown cross his features. “What’s wrong with my judgment?” he asked. “Everyone comes to Chalmun’s. Easiest place in the galaxy to find a job…’specially if that job ain’t honest.”

Mal sighed. “<Precisely my point, Captain. While I owe you a life debt–>”

Cho chuu ma, again with the blasted life debt?”

“<–I still find it unwise to make an appearance in such a well-known den of criminals such as this. I was under the impression there was still a bounty out for you.>”

Daegon sipped his drink to cover the momentary disquiet he felt at the mention of Grudo. Amy, wherever you are, be safe. Daegon knew the Jedi would protect her…but he also knew that Grudo had a long reach. If Grudo hadn’t forgotten the Selanno siblings by now, it meant the Hutt was going to carry a grudge for a long time. If that happened, Daegon would have to take drastic steps to ensure his sister’s safety.

“Lotta people in here probably have bounties,” Daegon replied, trying to sound more confident than he actually felt. Mos Eisley was different than the last time he’d been here, over eight years ago. While walking to the cantina, Daegon had noticed a few more MPs than he had remembered from his last visit. Hell, during the entire ten minute walk there hadn’t been a single fistfight in the streets or sound of a blaster shot. Somehow that unnerved him more than the old Mos Eisley normally would.

“Look,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Just keep your eyes open for our contact.”

Malbacca rumbled an affirmative and returned to observing the cantina’s patrons silently. A server droid buzzed by and took his drink, refilling it before turning to Daegon. “Another round, sir?”

He nodded and slid his glass across the table, but instead of refilling it the droid picked it up and polished it off before giving him a new one. “On the house, sir,” the droid quipped before zipping away on its repulsors. Daegon frowned and looked back at his empty glass…and saw something scratched into the bottom of the rim. Casually, Daegon glanced around to make sure no one was watching before spinning the glass upside down to read what was there.

Go to bartender. Ask for Flax.

So their contact had found them first.

Daegon tapped two fingers on the table to get Mal and Kaor’s attention and jerked his eyes at the bartender. Both of them nodded and stood, leaving their drinks behind. Daegon followed them, leaving a few credits but palming the serving glass. The three of them approached the bar, and Daegon hooked his thumbs into his belt as the bartender, a Twi’lek woman, turned to them. “What’ll it be?”

Daegon smiled. “Flax.”

The bartender’s eyes widened slightly, but she shrugged. “Sorry, don’t serve that here.” As she spoke, she slipped a piece of paper onto the bar and slid it forward. “You might want to try a different place.”

Daegon palmed the paper and sighed. “Damn. Thanks.” He turned to go, gesturing at Kaor and Mal to follow. “C’mon, let’s follow the lady’s advice.”

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Captain Daegon Selanno - Fringe Scum, Bounty Hunter, Smuggler

"I applaud your efforts. And now that you've insulted me, called me a heretic, threatened to burn me and questioned my gender, I'm completely on board." - Jess
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