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Fandom Star Wars: Dedication [IC]

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D. Rex

Magic Eight Ball
Group: The Sith Warlords
Location: Darth Non Stronghold
Tags: Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford , Sophileon Sophileon , GrieveWriter GrieveWriter

Three astromech droids were sent out on three starships... each one with a single message and a set of coordinates.

A robed figure appeared in the hologram, the face was that of a pale skin pure blooded Sith. His face wrinkled and touched heavily by the dark side.

"Dark Lord of the Sith... I am Darth Non. The next true upheaval of our beliefs is upon us, and the force has chosen you." He said in a gravelly voice. "In this droid, are coordinates and access codes. I shall await you there with others of a like mind. Bring what force you feel comfortable with for your protection, but you will not need them."

"I am eagerly awaiting your arrival. You will not be disappointed with what I have to offer."



The droids would find their targets without fail. And they would receive the message. Doubt they may feel... meditation upon the matter would reveal a subtle ripple in the force calling to them. One that spoke of power and opportunity. That spoke to them directly. The call of an elder Sith of pure blood was not one to be taken lightly.

Research into the name and face revealed nothing. No traces of a Darth Non. True to his namesake, it was as if he didn't exist. The very few pure bloods left, none were as aged as he.





The coordinates lead to that of an empty system of a white dwarf star. The only object in its orbit was that of a small pyramidoid space station. No ships were in its presence save for those the called chose to bring.

The space station called to the ships of the chosen ones. Each to dock at a separate end of the space station.


It was empty inside. No greeting party. No crew. It was clean, well lit, but far from new. An aged design of millennia past, of uncountable sith architecture.

They would find their way. The quite halls led them to turbolifts which would ascend them to what they would know as the top. The peak.

Where a dark red throne room sat, and large windows showed full view of space around them.

The throne room itself was empty. Save for the throne itself, and a wide round table with four large chairs.

Upon the throne sat a single being in humble black robes. The hood, down, revealing the face if the sith that called them.

He... had no presence in the force. No great power. Just the spark of life that any being might have, and a mind that was obscured from reading as was to be expected. Whomever he was... the force had long since left even. And in the detail of ones own eyes, his face shown recovery from the corruption the dark side placed on the body. No doubt due to the absence of the force.

Even the most paranoid among could see that this being was no more of a threat to them than an old beggar. His feebleness was well apparent, and without the force to give him strength... that wasnt going to change.


As the three sith arrived, Darth Non rose from his dais and, with the slow steps of an aged being, walked towards the table.


"You have graced me with your presence, as has been foretold. I am honored." As the sith reaches the table, he pulls from his robe a lightsaber, and let's it fall onto the table. It was in two pieces, sheared by the blade of another, its frame melted into slag where it had been cut. It was now useless.

"The Jedi severed my ties to the force many years ago. It was not before the force granted me a vision. I have since acted to see it come to pass. In the vision, the three of you stood... and by your might, would send the galaxy reeling and bring in the next age of Sith Ideology."

He took a seat at the table, and gestured for the others to sit as well. "Speak your piece, we have much to discuss, and I have much to give."


[Sith Warlords, you may bring any number of apprentice you choose to this meeting, or may go alone. Simply tag them in your post opener. You may also have them. Be sent on other missions elsewhere in the galaxy.]
 
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Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale Srale


The urban moon of Nal Hutta. A cityscape that covered its entire surface. A dangerous place, and one without scruple. Fitting it be under control of the Hutts. Perfect for any who deem themselves scum, perfect for anyone wishing to hide amongst the unwashed masses should they brave the risks of its nefarious populus.


It was in a high rise. Choktu Tower, room 3443. A lone bothan sat cross legged in the empty and dark room. It did not belong to her, but that didnt matter. Bothan had knack for gaining entry into places they shouldnt.

The only light that entered the room was from the windowed wall that led to the balcony. A faint red glow, all the lights of the city below.

Soth Sev'een, meditated as she awaited her... guest. Lord Bellator had sent her on to find this curious being who had been seeking information about the Ebon Legion. To kill, or to handle as she saw fit. An easy enough task.

She could feel him now. Soth was not hidden in the force... he would have no trouble finding her.
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex


Zalrian was roaming the streets of Nar Shaddaa, concealing his Sith Features with the force as well as hiding himself with the force. That was what he was doing,until he sensed a powerful, dark presence in the force. This made him stop and asses his situation. It seemed whoever it was, was specifically targeting him. It seemed that whoever it was, was after him. Thinking this may be his opportunity to become an apprentice of this Darth Bellator he had heard so much about before and after Darth Krayt's Death, he used his force abilities to find this Sith Lord, whoever it may be, and began finding his way to the high rise where the Sith was located.
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford , Adobe Adobe , GrieveWriter GrieveWriter , SidTheSkid SidTheSkid , Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii , Bruhaha Bruhaha



Chalmun's Cantina. One of the more notorious yet popular establishments in Mos Eisley. One of the first stops of any pilot, smuggler, bounty hunter, or any other ne'er-do-well.

It was a day inside just like any other. The dimly lit cantinas smelled of spice, booze, alien sweat, and blood. A familiar mix that any who had been here before could immediately recognize. Faint music played from a band of ughnaughts who seemed to want to be anywhere but here.

The bar itself was tended by a pretty young woman who probably felt much the same. But nobody questioned her employment. Nobody cared, so long as they got her drinks. She was not paid much, but being behind the bar kept mischievous hands out of reach. A small blessing for a thankless job.



A bearded human sat the bar, pouring over a datapad as he waited for girl to bring him his drink. He was here with two others, earlier, one he had to leave outside. Damned droids. An annoying rule... but not a single one inside would complain a out keeping an assassin droid out.
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale Srale


It was a tall building, and easy enough to find given the siths presence was unbidden.

The few guards that would have otherwise blocked any approached paid him no mind. Pretended he didnt even exist. Such was the profound effect of credits changing hands. Soth had bartered in advance. Zalrian was expected after all, holding him up now was simply a waste of time.

Zalrian could scale the tower in any way he pleased. Soth was not going anywhere. Simple meditation until the target of her investigation arrived. Patience, she reminded herself. A trait as valuable as initiative.
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex

Zalrian ascended the tower and shortly arrived at the proper floor. Noticing the guards, Zalrian began approaching them, planning to either use the force or simple persuasion to get through. He decided that in this situation killing the guards would be easy, but not the best approach, nor the quickest. This was his plan, but as he approached, they simply waved him through. He was mildly confused but decided to continue anyways.

After this bizarre encounter, he would slowly approach the door to the high rise, and open it.
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale Srale



The door opened with no trouble. It was not even locked. The room was dark, but the light that poured in from the hallway illuminated the one inside.

A young bothan, a female. Garbed in a dark fabric tunic as often seen on many a dark jedi. She opened her eyes, from her lap she took her lightsaber hilt. The telltale design of a double blade. With it in hand, she stood up.

A small wry smile graced her snout, "You are young. I was expecting... more."


Once inside, the door would close behind Zalrian. Leaving them both illuminated only by the light from the city outside.

The room was empty, and she made no move to attack. Save for the lightsaber hilt in hand, she was not holding an aggressive stance... yet.

"It is very brazen of you to seek out my Master. Very brazen indeed... Who are you, and what do you want?"
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex

"I am Zalrian. I was an Enforcer on Pamarthe before Krayt's death. I presume you are an apprentice of Darth Bellator?" Zalrian responded to Soth, removing his hood and not yet attacking or even grabbing his lightsaber. All he did was simply show that he had a lightsaber by pushing his own dark robes aside. This revealed a gleaming hilt of what looked like a single bladed lightsaber.
 
Group: The Sith Warlords
Location: Darth Non Stronghold
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter

The isolated planet Borra located within the Unknown Region was not an easy and noticeable location to find; that was precisely why Bellator had chosen it and continued to use it as his base of operations. There was also a sense of familiarity and pride in knowing he retained sole possession of the planet he had risen to power on.

The citadel that was his main command hub was brightly lit and well maintained while being adorned with large amounts of computers, screens, various droids of differing job duties and personnel of The Ebon Legion.

Bellator stood by a translucent screen that had star systems plotted out with coordinates and various numbers appearing and disappearing on screen; it was a battle map laying out military presence and potential outcomes of casualties on both sides.

Deep in thought his mind was quickly brought to the attention of sirens wailing and droids scrambling for battle formations.
As the starship had already landed and was leaving behind the small droid, Bellator could not understand how such a ship could breach through the frigates and various other starships in the space above the planet all while none being alerted not even the Sith himself.

It was unsettling, but Bellator shook the thought from his mind and readied himself for what may come.
The small droid casually made it's way and began to display the message of Darth Non.

Quietly Bellator listened and even after the message was over he did not truly understand what or why this Darth Non had sought him out. None knew of this location, but somehow this Sith seemed to easily find him.

Leaving the area and quickly sealing himself within his chambers he meditated and searched the force for any possible answers. None came save for the nagging desire to acquiesce his mystery guest.

Time flowed by, and yet he could not shake the pull he had felt after the droid had seemingly powered down and was carried off for further inspection of any potential clues or possible dangers hidden within.

With his mind tentatively made up, he strode to his personal starship and entered the coordinates. He did not wish to bring an army so to avoid detection as long as possible.
Soth had been sent off on a separate mission, but it wouldn't be likely Bellator would have brought her anyway.

Leaving his planet and corner of the galaxy the starship seemed to make the jump quite easily. Upon arriving the space station beckoned and his ship almost had a life of it's own as it was docked and he found himself disembarking. Desolation was everywhere and the place felt empty.
Empty of all life. Empty of anything including the force. It seemed he was alone.
There was but one path and it was cautiously tread all the while feeling out with the force and he kept feeling that same emptiness. Was this all some elaborate trap or a hoax? He had no way of knowing and this thought was unsettling to say the least.

The throne room was his apparent destination and as he entered and saw the robed figure his mind was aglow with a sense of alertness and a willingness to engage should the time arise. His hand instinctively went for the curved hilt of the saber by his side, but was stopped as he sensed that same emptiness he had felt all along.

Carefully bringing the blade up, but not activating it he listened as the old sith recounted his tale.

Even as the aged sith sat down and gestured for Bellator to do so, he would not. Sitting did not seem like a good position to be in should things go awry and he could never be too cautious.

"How is it you found me so easily?" The sonorous response finally came followed by: "If what you say is true, then why now? What profits one such as yourself to go to such lengths? The sith are broken, fractured and incomplete beings filled with incompetence and a fury that is blinding to a fault."
Quiet would fill the room once more as Bellator's suspicions began to rise of what truth would come from this meeting.
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale Srale


"You were an Enforcer. But not now, apparently." She said. Looking over his face, and his lightsaber. One of the One Sith. A disgusting bunch they were. The fools to have accepted such ideology in the first place.

"He is my Master." The bothan confirmed. But was not about to reveal her name... or anything else about her to him. It was nothing she saw him worthy to know.

"Why do you seek him, human?" She repeated. Her yellow eyes now trailing into his. "Why so determined that you are going through such effort?"
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex

"I am no longer an enforcer because the One Sith have fallen. This means I don't get the opportunity to punish the people of Pamarthe, the traitors that live there. I seek him out because I want to serve him. I believe him to be the future of the Sith. I believe he will restore the Sith to galactic domination as in the days of Darth Sidious or Emperor Vitiate. I believe he is the Darth that can teach me about the dark side, and tell me of the secrets I do not know of." Zalrian said in response to what Soth had said and asked of him.
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale Srale


"The One Sith are fleeing from their order like mynocks from a derelict ship before it crashes into a star. And you among them." She spoke appraisingly. "But did you leave in wisdom or opportunity? As you are leaving after the fall of Krayt, not before. Effectively choosing them above my Master."


Her eyes looked at him with a piercing gaze, "He is the Dark Lord of that and more.... You say that you wish to serve him. In what ways would you be worthy of such service? And what makes you assume you are worthy of the investment of his knowledge?" She asked, a touch coldly

An interesting human. Vying for apprenticeship and position. But... did he truly understand what that meant. Any of the one Sith would be wholly unprepared for the rigors of a single day. But this one.

That was to be seen.


Soth extended her free hand casually. With her fingers splayed, and palm upwards, she spoke. "Your lightsaber, Human. Surrender it."
 
Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex

Zalrian stared at Soth a moment, contemplating everything she had said. "I will simply say this. I am worthy because I don't need this." He said as he grabbed his lightsaber and tossed it to Soth.

"And I will be honest with you. It is a bit of both. I have come for both opportunity for power as well as for his wisdom. Krayt is destroyed so I have learned all I can from him. I must learn more. I need more power. I need more knowledge. I need more wisdom." Zalrian said, keeping himself calm in this dangerous situation.
 
Group: The Sith Warlords
Location: Darth Non Stronghold
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford Sophileon Sophileon Midrick Midrick
It was mostly out of curiosity that had led them there, but Darth Zen would never let anyone know that.

She was not one to meditate long on the meanings of the summons, for it presented opportunity that one need not the force to taste. Even so, the tug of it was unmistakable. Beyond the calling of Darth Non, a chance to know just who these like-minded individuals he spoke of could prove invaluable. Even with the sizable forces the New Separatist Union had managed to cultivate since their secession, it never hurt to have fingers in other pies. And so with only brief mention of her momentary absence to the Council, she set out with one of her apprentices and single battle droid for the offered coordinates.

The Space Station they found was unassuming and out of the way, the small tug of the force feeling no stronger by proximity. It was only as they departed the ship and followed the simplistic halls of the station that she felt it, others known to the dark side. Whether they were Darth Non or the like-minded individuals mentioned would remain to be seen, though something told her that this was not the case. Perhaps because of that ever-present little tug remaining even in the presence of such figures. Either way, the three eventually came across a turbo lift that took them to the pinnacle. It was there, that answers were finally given.

Darth Non was a figure of minimal threat yet infinite promise, a promise that Zen found greatly enticing despite the lack of backing he'd provided thus far. As he moved towards the table, Zen watched one of the other Dark Lords pointedly handle the hilt of his saber without activating it. Zen turned her attention to the seats, striding towards the one directly before her with nary a hint of hesitation. Hearing him question Darth Non, Zen gave a small hum of thought as she slid into her seat and crossed her legs while casually gesturing.

"It couldn't possibly have anything to do with certain recent events, could it?" she wondered out loud with a hint of amusement, leaning forward in her seat to nod towards Non "Though the rest of Krayt's lackeys are flailing with their master in the ground, they are by no means weak."

Looking around at the other Sith in attendance, pausing on her apprentice and the droid at his side, Zen continued "Perhaps you seek to use this vision to draw us together, perhaps? To stomp out the last of Krayt's legacies before they recover from his passing?"

"Or perhaps," she leaned back raising a hand and laying it upon the table before her "You hold something else that could warrant are indulgence in these sayings of yours?


Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Mos Eisley
Tags: Open

Rel'Tesi limped his way over a large dune, cloth wrapped around his head and dangling across one arm. His other arm was busy gripping a wound on his side. Gritting his teeth, he paused as he crested the dune and found before his eyes Mos Eisley. Easing his breath for a moment, he cast a wary glance behind towards the seemingly infinite sand he'd had to traipse through to reach even here.

His entire day had been a nightmare, much like the weeks before. Targeted for the bounty on his head, he had only barely been able to keep ahead of several bounty hunters since he fled from Union territory. A combination of quick thinking and plain old dumb luck had allowed him to evade more than his fair share of close calls. Today, that streak had crashed and burned along with his ship. He'd been ambushed before he could reach Hutt Space, a territory he was positive the Union would have difficulties locating him in. Despite the large number of bounty hunters and renegades, Rel was positive he had the ability to slip into the crowds there.

Now he'd never get the chance.

Forced down to Tatooine, he attempted to lose his pursuer in several mountains, even managing to clip them at one point. Alas, it had all been for nought. He'd managed to shake them just before he crashed, and could only hope the sand would cover up his tracks long enough for him to find a way to tend to his wounds. So far, the only hope he had was Mos Eisly. That fact alone made his situation feel twice as hopeless.

Nevertheless, he would never have gotten this far if hopelessness was enough to wear him down. Tightening his grip on his blaster, hidden covertly beneath the same ragged cloth he used to obscure his appearance, he began making his way down the dune and into the Spaceport with eyes darting towards every potential threat.

Miles behind him, surrounding a crashed starfighter were the bodies of several Jawas. Covered in scorch and blaster marks, many accumulated sand as a figure sifted through the downed vessel.

"Could've let me have a quick look and be on my way." the figure muttered as one of the Jawas managed to start pulling himself away from the crash sight "Wouldn't have asked for a single credit, not one let I remind you."

The speaker was a hunched over droid, poking and prodding at the inside of the cockpit with segmented fingers. He reached inside and gave several careful tugs before ripping something out of the control console and looking it over.

"Impeding my hunt, just out of sheer selfishness." the droid shook its head "It's practically like screaming 'Please, kill me Azzy! I wasn't feeling like living longer today, oh why won't you kill me?'"

Azzy tucked the torn bit of the ship under his arm and looked towards the sky, "How fickle Organics can be these days, right?"

The Jawa didn't answer, instead managing to start pulling itself up a nearby dune just before a blaster bolt struck the back of its head and sent his body sliding back down to the crash site.

"Well you just made the next band of scavengers to come by here richer." Azzy concluded as the blaster slid back into its port on his forearm "I'm sure your clan will be extremely proud of you."
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Adobe Adobe , D. Rex D. Rex

Sinclair stumbled onto a stool next to a hairy man at the cantina, coughing and drawing heavily on his inhaler. As Sinclair righted himself, he promptly began coughing medication and mist over the bar, drawing angry looks from patrons. Sinclair glared back, thumbing on and off the safety on his dioxin grenade. Sinclair tugged on the bar tender's sleeve and whispered to her, pleading for a drink, slowly and steadily drumming his fingers on the counter.
 
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Group: The Ebon Legion Apprentices
Location: Nar Shaddaa, High Rise Room 3443
Tags: Srale Srale


Soth takes the lightsaber in hand, inspecting it it before stowing it in her robes. "Say such a reason in his presence, and he shall cut you down where you stand." She said softly. "Never assume your worth to him in such a manner."

The botham turned around, her back towards him now. "Your reasons to seek him are sound. Of that, I will admit." She said, as she walked towards the balcony. Expecting him to follow.

"Tell me this, human. When a master takes on two apprentices... very often one ends up killing the other to garner the Masters favor and attention. Why should I then not kill you... to spare myself such a betrayal, and a rival of which I must share my master." Her voice was wistful, as if she was considering doing just that. Yet despite the contemplation, she made no hostile movements.

"Answer, as I am curious."
 
Group: The Sith Warlords
Location: Darth Non Stronghold
Tags: GrieveWriter GrieveWriter Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford Sophileon Sophileon Midrick Midrick


The old sith turned to Bellator. "The force, Lord Bellator. Should my visions have been untrue, my droids would have only arrived at empty space. It had directed me where to look. Through my years if exile, I have learned what I could if the three of you. " He explained.

"I gain nothing from this. No throne awaits me, nor any power that I can grasp. Even should my connection to the force return, my prime is long past. Where I had once served myself, in my solitude i have to come to understand that my purpose is to serve the dark side. I am an arbiter at best, and a catalyst at the least. The force chose you, not me."



Darth Non nodded at the woman. "You are correct, Lady Zen. This very event was foretold. And should the opportunity be ignored, the sith will fall into another millennia of weakness. With Krayt having fallen, his followers are in disarray. The Empire and The Republic will take advantage of it. The current galactic structure of government will collapse, and they will retake everything while the one sith order gives up and hides in cowardice. Before that happens, you can act to grasp everything that they once held."


"The sith can not be allowed to fall back into the Banite ways. Sideous was apex product of that experiment. And his fall ruined many many generations of progress. His failure has rendered the Rule of Two as obsolete.

"The One Sith is a craven order. A mockery of sith empires of old. Weak and subservient they are. Vermin. Submitting to a monarch, nor the dark side. Serving a leader... not power or ambition. Under Krayt, they would have grown stagnant, and crumbled under the weight of their collective weak wills."

"That is why you three were chosen. Power, will, ambition. You have what it takes to establish a new order. A new way forward. You feel it as well. The future of the sith is in your hands. For you three to create the way as you see fit."


Darth Non cleared his throat."However... that can not come to he unless you three work together. It is only by your combined might that you can destroy the old foundation and build a new one. Go alone, and it is only failure that you will find."



"As for me, I am here simply to facilitate this meeting. Should you decide to kill me, you will find it an easy task. And it will not hamper your odds in the slightest. But before such a thing is considered. I have worked to procure things to make your destiny much easier to obtain."




From his robes, long bony fingers pulled out three objects.


The first two were unassuming data drives. The third was a sith holocron.


"My gift to you. In this, you will find plans to the Basalisk War Droid Mk II. Engineers saught to recreate it better. They succeeded. And they are dead. You will find better use of it than they will. Further installed is the location of hidden factories that once belonged to the CIS. On Genosis, and another."

"On this drive... are plans to a super weapon that never saw the light of day. With it you will be able to cripple any fleet or planet that stands in your way, and be able to enjoy the spoils therein without having to shift through planetary debris."

"This holocron... much of its data is encrypted. But there is one thing you can immediately gleam from it. A way to steal yourself from being severed from the force, and a way to undo it. More secrets are within, but I was severed before I could unlock more, let alone master what i did learn."
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex , Bruhaha Bruhaha

"Alright", Nirea mumbled, taking a second to look over the new patron over. He looked like trouble, but so did most people in this place. She shrugged of the thought and pulled two cups down from the drying rack above. A soft blue liquid streamed from the tap, filling both cups with a green foam.

"There you go", she said, placing both of the cups down in front of each of the men. Nirea took a step back, leaning against the work surface behind her, her eyes being drawn once again to the two men in front of her. She was intrigued, to say the least, thumbing the small necklace adorning her neck.
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Bruhaha Adobe Adobe Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter SidTheSkid SidTheSkid


Cid Moonrunner, captain of one of the few ships for hire in the space port. Two, to be precise. One being his YT-2400, and the other being some fancy schmancy whatever. Well, even with that other ship being there, there was no need to be fussed over loss of business. As a matter of fact, the laws of supply and demand meant he could Jack up his prices for some easy money.

Still... he wasnt about to count on tattooine low life's to have the sort of money to get his attention. Hence the datapad. Swiping his finger along the scene, idly looking for any contracts or freight he could pick up while he was here.

And so he did not have to pay the sickly sullustian beside him any mind. He wasn't here for a fight. So long as the flappy cheeked individual didnt cough all over him, he could flash all the grenades he wanted. Besides... given his grenade crazy crew... he had become a bit desensitized to the intimidation factor of such devices. Anyway, the last thing he wanted was some space sickness that he'd have to treat in some back alley doctor here. "Easy mate," he did end up saying. "No need for that here. Showing off your grenades is how you get the authorities involved. Trust me, I know."

As the bartender placed his drink in front of him, he regarded her with. "Thank you, dear." He said.

From his pocket he pulled out a huttese trugut and set it on the counter. Sliding it towards her to pay for his. "Cover his too. Amd hey, you can keep the change if you send anybody looking for a pilot or freighter my way." And maybe buying the sullustian a drink would help him lighten up.

He leaned back and took a sip of his drink before looking back up to regard her for a moments. Regarding her regarding home, anyway.

"What's on your mind? Do I got foam on my beard or something?" He asked, running a hand down his face just to make sure. Nothing wrong with a bit of casual conversation. It was either that or looking over shipments of farming equipment.
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Bruhaha Adobe Adobe Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter SidTheSkid SidTheSkid

"Oh, no your fine, I was just, it fine." She answers, pulling up one of the stools on the other side of the counter, settling herself opposite the man. "Just most people tell me to shove off and mind my own business, so I'm itching for a conversation."

Nirea let out a small chuckle, placing both her arms down onto the counter. "We ain't busy these days, so shouldn't have to worry 'bout working!" Smiling, she began to pick some of the more ingrained pieces of sand out from under her nails.

"So what's your reason, on the run, or looking for someone on the run?" It was more a rethorical question, she knew to well the type of person planets like tattooine attracted. She slid the trugut into her pocket. "Cut me some slack, they don't pay me enough anyway." She chuckled, stretching out and giving a small yahn
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Bruhaha Adobe Adobe Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter SidTheSkid SidTheSkid

Sinclair choked out a laugh seeing the money disappear down the bartender’s pocket. Sinclair nodded his thanks to the two humans, face flaps waggling,; “You close your tabs pretty quick smuggler, not planning on staying long?” “And the point is to bring the authorities, taxation of outer rim trade routes and hyperspace lanes has made the Union and Tatooine crime lords fat and rich. It’s time for these credits to start finding their way back into the hands of the people. And If I have to keep blowing up Judicials, Kryatt’s soldiers, and customs agencies till I die, then I will. My people are spacers, and they are starving, barely making a living under this new empire’s rule. Surely you’ve felt the burden of outer rim taxation smuggler, don’t you think it is a time for a change?” Sinclair rasped the words out, letting his eyes droop and lips sag, attempting to appear drunk and tired.
 
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Dezmund 'Dezzi' Niktano
Group:
Vagabonds (None.)
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley - Chalmun's Cantina.
Status: Uninjured - Tense.
Tags: D. Rex D. Rex - Cid, Bruhaha Bruhaha - Sinclair, Adobe Adobe - Nirea.

- Mos Eisley (Business District) -

Growing up on a place that was relatively colder than Tattooine, Dezmund was initially under the impression that he'd appreciate such an arid environment as well as the supposedly 'amiable' people that reside on this swirling dustball of a planet; to say that he was looking forward to getting off Eshan and onto Tattoine would've been a large understatement to say the least! However, this naive idea of his that things here would be better couldn't be more wrong; not only did the immeasurable amount of sand successfully manage to impede his journey and somehow invade the more private areas of his garments but the locals proved to be far from friendly, particularly those shrieking 'neanderthals' that had tried giving the poor Echani a free lobotomy with their slugthrowers when he mistakenly entered their territory; how was he, a meek visitor, supposed to know that those random impaled skeletons they left out were warning signs?!

"Bastards." He sourly muttered the profanity from his dried lips as he still begrudgingly continued to trudge his worn-out legs through the nearly ankle-high sand that was pretty much littered throughout the entire thoroughfare Of Mos Eisley. Although his two-week-long experience on Tattooine was utterly dreadful, he found himself ultimately thankful for deciding to come here as he was able to discover a handful of clues regarding his sister's disappearance, these hints mainly coming in the form of the vague writings that Kitanni had left in their wake. Dezmund didn't know why she'd deliberately scatter these journal entries of hers while traveling with that one Jedi, his only real guess was that she'd left them there for someone to discover, perhaps she had her own suspicions that this rigorous trail she was undertaking had a slight possibility of something bad happening?

Desmund instinctively brought his droughty hands into the comforting pockets of his outfit, lowering his head as the demoralizing thoughts of Kitanni being hurt or worse begun rushing through his mind. Thinking about it more in-depth, Dezmund had abruptly stopped in his tracks and started to wonder if this expedition of his was even worth it; would it be better just to stop where he is now and have the belief that Kittani still might be alive instead of figuring out that she might actually be dead? "No, she's far stronger than I... Kitanni has to be alive, I know she is." Brushing away the negative thoughts, Desmund resumed his lengthy stroll into one of the adjoining districts before gradually slowing himself to a mere crawling pace once he'd acknowledged the faint music being played with one of the nearby Cantinas.

Soon enough he'd found himself wandering towards the source of the music, leading him to a fairly sizable structure with a crowd of questionable looking customers loitering outside of it. "Chalmun's Cantina." He raised his brow as he meticulously deciphered the Huttese sign that was proudly displayed atop of the entryway of the building. There was clear temptation was drawn on the man's pale complexion as he eagerly brought his tongue across his upper lip, his thoughts soon enraptured by the imaginary sight of him slugging down a refreshing drink and having something to eat. As much as he wanted to continue his own investigation, his dehydration and hunger had become too much bare, leading Dezmund to temporarily postponing his search as he grazed his way through the front entrance and into the Cantina.

- Chalmun's Cantina. -

He knew all too well what kind of establishment this kind of place was, a breeding ground of all sorts of criminal activity and an attractor of the lowest of life-forms. Just being in such a depraved surrounding started to make his skin crawl, luckily the music was more than enough to calm his nerves even with the occasional aggressive glances being given to him by some of the more rugged patrons; nonetheless, Dezmund had no intentions of staying in such a place for too long. After skimming his eyes over the interior for a good minute or two, he was finally able to disclose the whereabouts of the bar before immediately making his way over to the counter and laying his unsuspecting eyes on the bartender who at first startled him with her attractiveness. "Wow." He said in a hushed voice, totally amazed that someone like her would be working in a place like this.

Nirea's looks had almost caught him off-guard from the two patrons that were sitting across from him, Dezmund accidentally nudging his elbow into Cid's shoulder by accident as a result. "Oh, i'm so sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you, sir. I uh, must've not of looked where I was!" If it weren't for his skin being so dried-up then he'd be nervously sweating at the idea of getting into an altercation with such a burly fellow, seeing the intimidating-looking Sullustan that he was with only furthered Dezmund's unease as he gently stepped backward and away from the two, chuckling anxiously to himself as he brought his attention back towards Nirea, clearing his throat afterward as he desperately tried to fit back into the 'rough' crowd. "Hey gorgeous, how about I get the finest drink you have around here!" His faux attempt at confidence was almost laughable as he retrieved a credit chip from his back pocket and offered it to the woman behind the counter; Desmund only slowly realizing afterward his form of currency was probably useless on Tatooine, making him now look like both an absolute buffoon and a nervous wreck.

(If Nirea could read faces, Dezmund's would have the look of "please have pity on me." right now )
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Bruhaha Adobe Adobe Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter SidTheSkid SidTheSkid

Cid gave a light chuckle, "Yes, there is certainly a noticable lack of people skills here. But such is the. Nature of the beast." He said, looking around at the patrons of the bar.

"I can tell about the business though. The ports are dead. Though I doubt for long." Cid stated, and leaned forward, "Word has it, that Darth Krayt was felled by a Skywalker. If that's true, business in hutt space will is going to become very lively again."

The captain took another drink and leaned back in his stool again. "As for me, I'm sure I have somebody after me. But I am here on business. Dropped off some goods for Portu the Hutt. Got my ship being refueled, figured I'd grab a drink to see if there is any money to be earned before I fly off."

"And hey, I ain't busting your chops." He said with a chuckle. "You got me my drink. I have nothing to complain about. And you ain't got to advertise for me. It was just a small investment for you to keep me in mind."


Moonrunner then looked over at the crazed sullustian. "I dont like tabs. At least not in bars that keep records. But no, not staying long if I can help it. Even sooner should you want the authorities here. Just give me some fair warning, at least."

Cid snorted in amusement. "Of course the crime lords are fat. Most are hutts. And I'd wager it's literally impossible for a skinny one to exist."

"You do you, mate. Consider that drink a thanks for the eventuality I come across a system whose customs agent met an unfortunate end. As for me though
... In my line of work, I get paid under the table. Dodging taxes as requently as Sith blockades."

"The Sith empire hasn't even stabilized. In a broad sense, I suppose your right. But i choose to take advantage of it. It has led to all the more people wanting goods and people transported without Sith knowledge. The Fel and Alliance too, pay good money for such things. And if you are looking for large chunks of money to hand out, smuggling is the best way you'll get it. Sticking it to the man, and all."

"But like I told her... word has it the Sith leader died. If it's true, things are about to shake up. You might be getting change sooner than you expected."


Cid brought up his drink for another sip, and for someone to bump into him, causing him to spill almost half of it onto the bar. "Hey! Watch it bud." He said a bit irratibly. Almost enough spilt to start a fight over. But no... it was just some kid. And judging from his skin, not someone used to the tattooine suns.

"Its fine. Just watch yourself. People will cut off your limbs here for less."


His gaze drifted to the credit chip. Kid was definitely not from around here. "Hey kid, if you got fifty, I'll trade you for a pegat." He offered. A pegat wasnt worth more than forty... but Cid had the pegat. Kid did not.
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Bruhaha Adobe Adobe Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter SidTheSkid SidTheSkid

Sitting in the smoky background of the Cantina Fokan had been there for hours pouring over any information she could get, borderline interrogating people for any hint of a job or money, she was currently in a conversation with a Rodian who had said he represented the Hutts. He kept speaking in Quechua which, even though Fokan could understand, still made her mildly frustrated as the green bastard could clearly speak Basic and would make the conversation much easier. Ultimately she got nowhere with the Rodian and was back where she started, the Hutts were seemingly much more secretive than in the past, and though she could get info from him it would have only served to out her status as a force user. Doing such a thing to herself would have been stupid especially in a place full of people hoping to get rich.

Fokan had overheard the beginning of this conversation, while not particularly interesting yet, it was certainly more so than the band's droning. Getting out of her dank and dark corner booth she brushed herself off and straightened her white uniform before strutting off to the bar. She came up behind the new variable in this situation, he made her feel, uncomfortable especially when he pulled out his credit she was intrigued, an awkward man running around with Credits? As Cid made the bargain with the boy she found herself smiling, he was an opportunist someone Fokan knew she would like him. Overhearing what he about the Sith she found herself properly intrigued, "How much are you willing to take advantage of the Sith?" She stepped up to the table and rand her hand through the white streak in her hair a bit nervously
 
Group: The Wretched Hive
Location: Tattooine, Mos Eisley Cantina
Tags: Bruhaha Bruhaha Adobe Adobe Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford GrieveWriter GrieveWriter SidTheSkid SidTheSkid

Cid's eyes drew to blue skinned woman that hovered over them now. Sharply dressed. Pretty face. Proper stature... and a chiss. Of all the things he expected to see in a Cantina, a chiss that seemed ready to lead a fleet into war was not one of them.

The man drummed his fingers on the bartop, thinking to himself. Sure, her dress marked her as some official, but nobody of such rank would ever be caught dead in a place like this. Nor were their any soldiers around, and last he checked, the was no warships in orbit. If she was of rank, than she wasnt here on official business.

"That depends, really," the captain said, choosing his words carefully, "On who is asking and what is in it for me."

An indirect answer. But if she was as aware as he expected, she would catch the jist of it. That he had no limits there. While at the same time giving him plausible deniability should she be an authority. He did, however, notice the nervous tick. But should she be half of what she appeared, then how much of what she showed was an act, and how much was genuine.

"And what of you?" he asked. "Surely a chiss of your apprent calibre has something up their sleeve."

Needless to say, his curiosity was piqued. This lady very well could have something interesting on her mind. A job, perhaps. A lucrative partnership. Or even something more. And Cid was not one to shy away at the chance of opportunity.
 

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