A Fallen Hope: The event that kicked off Star Wars: Reach of the Empire…

Cantina <Mos Eisley: Tattooine>

As you step down into this dark, smoke-filled room, the first thing you notice is the wide variety of alien races represented by the bar patrons. The Cantina is usually a crowded place, its business fueled by the nearby spaceport. Smugglers and pirates, bounty hunters and merchants, thugs, pickpockets, rogues and criminals of all sorts gather around the round tables that are set too close together in the shadows and along the walls, sipping dark, exotic looking drinks and discussing all manner of business, legal or illegal. Against the lefthand wall runs the bar, where customers seated at stools or standing between them try to get the attention of the overweight, grungy-looking bartender who scowls and eyes the crowd darkly as he serves up drinks.

The buzz of the Cantina is normally covered by the upbeat music of Fig’rin D’an and the Modal Nodes, the famous all-Bith band. The short, hairless aliens play their exotic flute-like instruments tirelessly, as what little light to be found in the bar glints off their pale white skin and their dark, glassy eyes that are set close above their mouths. Most of the customers seem to ignore the band, although the music provides nice cover for private conversations.
Privacy and caution are the bywords here, as many of the patrons have no desire to be found and many others are dangerously unpredictable. Fights are not uncommon here, and deaths even less so, as the few imperial patrols on Tatooine rarely bother to enter this place. To say the Cantina is “a little rough” would be an overwhelming understatement.

Still, for those with the right connections or the right money, the Cantina is a great place to find whatever you need in Mos Eisley, including transportation away from this sandblown planet. Most of the best pilots who come to Tatooine can be found here, and for a price may be induced to provide discrete transportation for passengers and cargo.

Alrez steps into the darkened cantina with the air of a man returning to a long-forgotten home.

Chewbacca begins to work on his drink, keeping an eye on the occupants of the bar.

Sowyn leans her small body against the bar between a Wookie and Fenriz. She holds a small glass of purple liquid in her hand. Having just sniffed it she takes a tiny taste and coughs, covering her mouth with one slim hand, “Wow… that is sweet and does kick.”

Cold. Dispassionate. Icy. Such is the regard that Boba Fett gives the room as he enters the Cantina. His helmetted visage briefly scans the room, but if he sees anything or anyone significant to him, none can tell. He moves toward a table in the shadows near the back, and sits with his back to the wall.

Alrez strolls over to the bar and tries in vain to get the bartenders’s attention.

Into the tavern steps the bartender, Wuher, who is leading a bald man in a grubby brown jumpsuit, gleaming monacle. The man with Wuher is carrying some kind of battered toolbox. Wuher grumbles as he walks: “Of all the times for the holo array to conk out…” 

Fenriz finishes off his vodka.

The technician smirks at Wuher, shifting the toolkit from one hand to the other. “‘ave it fixed in no time.”

Stepping intp the bar, the Corporate Sector thugs, lead by Oglamar, arrogantly make their way to a booth, making several obsein jokes involving a Wookiee, and a Hutt.

Fenriz looks at Sowyn, he asks “Did you see that Rodian?”

Theron is sitting in a private booth, his cap is off, and he seems to be nursing a drink of some sort. From the looks, it doesn’t look alcoholic. With his uniform dark, hardly anything is noticeable here.

Alrez gives up on getting a drink just now and turns to study the new arrivals. He smiles absently at the human woman, but quickly diverts his attention as the Corporate Sector thugs enter.

Wuher nods to the technician, then heads around behind the bar counter, snatching his soiled towel off a stool and looking at the patrons assembled around the holo array. “Right. Okay. Listen up, ya bunch o’ nerf herders! We got some problems with the holo array, so we’re not gonna get to show the race just yet. But, I got a tech on the case, so we should be up and runnin’ shortly. Meanwhile, drink up.”

Fenriz is sitting at the bar next to Sowyn and a Bith.

Sowyn takes another sip of her purple drink and looks at Fenriz, “Nope. I guess you haven’t.” She stands at the bar between a wookie and Fenriz.

Boba Fett folds his arms across his chest. He orders no drink, and utters no words to anyone.

Phoenix wanders in, looking around. She heads in The’s general direction, pausing once or twice along the way to lift some credits from unconcious or dead patrons.

Fenriz look in the direction of Wuher “I want another Corellian Vodka.”

Here to double the thuggishness comes a patrol of five stormtroopers, apparently led by Tyr and who has Fahlon amongst their numbers. He looks around, and then nods, the troopers spreading out in the bar.

The technician sets his box on the counter, standing just to left of Boba Fett. He jostles against the bounty hunter, then eyes him fearfully, monacle popping out. “Ah, sorry about that.”

Wuher nods to Fenriz. “Comin’ right up.” He takes out a glass that’s almost clear, and pours into it a liquid that is equally nearly non-opaque. He slides it to Fenriz. “Five credits.”

Boba Fett turns the anonymous gaze of his helmet visor toward the technician. He stares at the man for some time, before saying through his armor’s speaker system, “Watch it.”

Fahlon spreads off from the patrol, heading in the general direction of the far right corner of the cantina.

Fenriz throws five credits nonchalently at Wuher.

Neela walks in and quickly walks out

Oglamar stands up, leaving his Corporate Sector friends at the booth they were at and approched the squad of troops. “The Corporate Sector has this place under control, no need for you ‘kids’ to come here and try to do our job, not like you could.” He says jokingly, and chuckles, as does his people.

Snapping up his monacle and putting it back in place over his eye, the technician nods meekly to the bounty hunter. “Of course, Mr. Fett, sir. Anything you say, Mr. Fett, sir.” He then selects a tool from the box and goes to work on the holo array.

Alrez looks in the direction of the technician and the man in body armour. “So *that’s* Boba Fett,” he mumbles under his breath. Taan had heard of him, but never actually seen him before.

Chewbacca finishes off his drink, and pounds on the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

Wuher scowls at Chewbacca. “Yeah?”

Chewbacca points to a bottle of Veronian Berry Wine and lets out a grunt.

Fett looks away from the technician, and goes back to his silent vigil.

Tyr turns his head at the officer from the Corporate Sector Authority. Good thing the helmet conceals the condesending look he levels upon him. “Sir, we are looking for a dangerous bounty hunter responsible for the death of an Imperial Governor. I ask that you let us do our job, sir.” It doesn’t sound too much like a request.

Dieshanka smiles.. albeit a bit maniacal in her make up, as she enters the cantina. She walks to the bar looking for a seat in the crowded place.

Phoenix lilts her head to one side, maybe catching the bit of info Tyr just dropped. She shrugs, continuing to head for The’s table.

Fenriz is sitting at the bar behind a glass of Correlian Vodka, he is sitting next to Sowyn and a Bith.

Jaehar makes her way through the entrance of the cantina, head bowed low under the hood of her cloak. After a slow scan of the interior she takes a few steps towards the bar.

Theron lifts up his drink, and takes a sip. He puts it back down and surveys the crowd.

Dieshanka sits, pushing her way between two at the bar and orders a drink.

Alrez stands with his back to the bar, watching the assembled mass and trying to stay out of trouble, for now. He looks to see who else may be near him and decides it may be wise to start looking for contacts here on Tatooine.

Wuher refills the wookiee’s drink, then scowls at the technician. “Done yet?”

Theron notices the girl, and points to the usual seat.

Phoenix steps closer to The, murmuring, “Hey.” She nods, slipping into the seat, silently.

Oglamar laughs, and turns back to his people and mummbles something to them, pointing at the stormtroopers. He turns back, and grins. “Looking for a bounty hunter you say? Well, if he took out a Governor, I am sure a squad of you he can handle.” He laughs, trying to see how far he can go before he angers the stormtrooper.

Slipping in from the glaringly sunlight sqaure, Jonathan glances about the tavern slowly. Unwrapping the scraf from around his head and heads for the bar. Hands stay in his pockets as he keeps a wary eye out.

Fahlon eyes the cantina, examining as many patrons as he can from his vantage point. He seems to settle on a particular patron, making his way around tables and through crowds to Jaehar. A click is heard within his helmet as the external speaker system comes to life. “Citizen.”

“Ah,” the technician says, using a tool to twist a couple of connectors and then prodding a circuit cluster with a gloved finger. “I think…just about have it…”

Sowyn stands at the bar between Fenriz and a Wookie sipping a small glass of purple stuff. She makes a face as she drinks, then places the glass on the bar and turns to scan the new arrivals.

Wuher sighs and nods. “Good. Cuz that race is already goin’, and I got my money on Darklighter.”

Theron says, “I see you made it just in time for the podraces, Ix.”

The holographic array springs to life, and the first visual it offers isn’t of a race in progress, but some kind of calamity. Half a dozen camerabots swing in casual arcs around a pillar of orange-red stone with a slender gap near the top – the legendary Stone Needle of Beggar’s Canyon. Columns of oily black smoke twist against the clear cerulean sky.
An announcer is in the middle of speaking as the image manifests: “…lighter is alive, we are told, but badly injured. The news is worse for young Luke Skywalker. After the collision, his T-16 skyhopper slammed into the Stone Needle at full speed. We’re told he died instantly. His friend and chief competitor in these speed trials, Biggs Darklighter, survived the collision. He’s not conscious right now, and I just can’t begin to imagine what it’s going to be like to hear about what happened when he wakes up. Our thoughts go out to the family and friends of both pilots.”

Boba Fett turns his head ever so slightly toward the small crowd of stormtroopers. He looks away, but one gauntleted arm disappears from view beneath the bar.

Alrez looks in the direction of Wuher and mumbles, “Darklighter. Huh.”

Fenriz shouts “Damn, I put good money on that good for nothing kid.”

Tyr is impassive, the helmet, again, helps that, as he levels his intimidating visage on Oglamar. “Sir, I believe we would be able to. But, then again, with the Commerce Sector Authority here, I am sure it makes our mission redundant, albeit necessary.” It’s dead-panned.

Wuher growls, snatching the towel off his shoulder and flinging it toward Chewbacca, while scowling at the holo array.

Neela makes her way into the cantina once more. this time taking time to look over the patrons

Sowyn scoots her empty glass across the counter and smiles at Wuher, “I’d like more of this purple sweet stuff with a kick.” she says. As the holo comes on her attention is drawn to the race.

The holographic image switches to a replay of the collision between Darklighter’s and Skywalker’s skyhoppers as they jockeyed for position on approach to the Stone Needle. The Darklighter skyhopper bumps its port stabilizer against Skywalker’s starboard stabilizer – and both stabilizers snap off. Darklighter arcs off course, grazes the Stone Needle and then goes down. But Skywalker’s T-16 spins out of control and slams head on into the Stone Needle.

Phoenix grins, “Wouldn’t miss ’em if I had a choice about it.” She leans back for a few seconds, turning her gaze on the holoviewer. She blinks, “Huh…wonder how somethin’ that bad managed to happen..good thing I didn’t bet on either of them..not that I have enough credits to make a bet anyways most of the time.”

Oglamar smirks, “It’s Corporate Sector, you punk kid. I don’t see why the Imperial Army wants you corpes, erm.. Stormtroopers, so young. Good for nothing..” He mubbles off as he turns towards the holo-projector.

Wuher doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to Sowyn at the moment. He just watches the replay and sighs, shaking his head. “One hundred credits, right down the trash chute.”

Jaehar stops, her gaze moving to the holoviewer. A frown creases at the edge of her lips as she watches.

Alrez waves at the holograpic array, “Aw, look at that! Skywalker knew he was outclassed and just could’t get it through his head!”

“Under the circumstances,” the announcer says as the wreck footage replays again and again, “the organizers of the Beggar’s Canyon speed trials have decided it would be best to call off the race for now. Lann Kylomer, HoloNet Sports, live on Tatooine.”

Fenriz says, “I put a hundred on the damned kid. I need another vodka, give me one, and give the girl what she wants.”

Luckily for Oglamar, Tyr’s rifle-butt doesn’t ‘slip’ into the officer’s gut. “Yes, sir,” is the polite response as he turns away, continuining to walk the Cantina, the holoviewer only catching his eye for a moment.

Dieshanka smirks, mostly to herself, watching the little race unfold on the holo.

Chewbacca lets out a rather perturbed, rumbling growl as he peels the towel from his head. He reaches out towards Wuher, the look in his eyes not exactly friendly. Holding up the towel, he lets out a long, raspy roar.

Phoenix mutters something under her breath, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. She leans back, sighing.

Wuher swings his dark gaze toward Chewbacca, then snatches the towel away. “That’s *my* towel. Ain’t for patrons. Get your own.”

Sowyn frowns, “Damn, he was sort of cute too.” she says sadly, then looks at the bartender, “Hey… I really need that drink now.” she says a bit louder, trying to catch Wuher’s attention, “You’re not the only one who lost credits on that race.” She picks up the empty glass and sats it down loudly on the bar.

Theron watches almost impassively, and looks back towards Ix. “Guess those podraces are all they live up to be.”

Oglamar snorts at Tyr, still unaware of his identity, but he does not care. His Corporate friends stand up and leave, as they have work to do. Him, on the other hand, takes a seat at the bar near the Wookiee. He takes a moment to grunt at the beast, making fun of it. “Barkeep! You got any Drutash grubs, with Omaton Sauce?” He laughs, remembering when he first tried them back on Sullust.

Alrez looks at Sowyn, having heard her comment, “Who? Skywalker?”

Boba Fett remains in his place impassively, one arm still out of sight. His faceplate is aimed in the general direction of the holoviewer, but whether that is the subject of his attention is unclear.

Dieshanka sips her drink, taking her eyes from the holo, to view some in the cantina.

The bartender grimaces at Sowyn, then shrugs. “What are ya havin’?”

Fenriz shouts angrily “Wuher, I want my drink.”

Jonathan drops onto a stool at the bar and flicks his gaze to the holo-projector and tsks a bit. His coat stays buttoned up and collar also stays to its fullest. Absently flicking a lock of hair out of his face and turns towarsd the bartendar and spares a moment to glance about somemore.

Fahlon does not take kindly to being ignored, reaching ou his amored hand to touch Jaehar on the shoulder. “Citizen!” He says, a bit more forceful this time.

Phoenix nods, “Yeah. Don’t see why they’re calling the race off though. Pretty much everyone knew that it was likely someone’d get hurt or killed.” She shrugs, “Coulda been worse. Both of them coulda gotten killed–or they could’ve run into another ‘racer and crashed him too.”

Fenriz says, “Correlian Vodka for me, Alderaanian Plum wine for Sowyn””

Alrez mumbles under his breath, “Uh-oh. Might be time to get going…”

Chewbacca growls long and deeply, but a glance at the stormtrooper patrol seems to give him some momentary control.

Theron nods, “I’ve heard it said that some races end up with no finishers.”

A small shadow ducks in from the blazing heat outside, giving itself an absent-minded shake to shed the fine layer of sand and grit that has accumultaed in the folds of its poncho. Brushing the hood back to reveal sun-bleached hair, Kail blinks hastily to accustom his eyes to the cantina’s relatively dim interior and begins to make his way toward the bar.

Sowyn nods and looks at Alrez, “Yep. Didn’t know him, but I’ve seen him around.” She glances back at Fenriz and gives him a smile, “Thanks again. Believe it or not small has it’s uses, just not in a bar with tall people.” She glances up at the Wookie beside her at the bar, where she stands between it and Fenriz.

“Citizen,” says Tyr through his helmet as he speaks to Johnathan, coming up by his side. His tone is forceful, but polite, as much as military types can be said to be polite.

Wuher growls at Fenriz, then pours him a refill of Corellian and Alderaanian Plum wine for Sowyn.

Dieshanka stands, discretely paying for her drink from a small pouch on her side.

Dieshanka nods to Wuher as she pays and turns to leave the establishment.

Neela wanders toward the bar looking for an empty seat as she glances haphazzardly at screen ‘Damn musta hurt” as she moves to get the bartenders attention

Fenriz says, “thanks Wuher”

Oglamar hits the counter of the bar, and leans over, shouting, “Barkeep! I demand satisfaction! I want my Drutash grubs, with Omaton Sauce!” He chuckles again.

Phoenix nods, “Does happen a few times. Sometimes there’s only one finisher, ’cause all the others are crashed. Everyone knows it happens–and this isn’t the first time someone’s gotten killed in a crash. A couple of times they’ve even been shot down by Raiders..”

Landon walks into the Cantina but pauses near the entrance as a he sees the crowd that has gathered to escape the harsh sun. He glances over the faces of the patrons briefly before making his way to the bar.

Alrez shakes his head, trying to avoid the notice of the soldiers that look like they’re now squaring off. “Nah, Skywalker’s just a kid. He doesn’t have the dicipline to make it in the circuit. I’d be surprised if he’s even in a cockpit at all in five years time. Now Darklighter, there’s a racer with a future.”

A short, fat human with greasy black hair enters the Cantina and looks around briefly. Seeing Boba Fett, he swallows hard and heads toward the bounty hunter.

Jaehar reaches up and pushes her hood off her head. She sidesteps through the crowd towards a table in the corner. She settles into a chair back against the wall.

Wuher glances mordantly at Oglamar. “We don’t got any Drutash grubs here.”

Boba Fett remains in his seat, but turns his attention toward the fat man as he approaches. “You’re late,” he says.

Landon slows he he nears the bar, keeping a suspicious eye for those who seem too enthuastic to bumb into him. He puts his hand on the wood of the bar and starts tapping to attract the bartender’s attension.

Oglamar takes his seat, grinning – but not too disapointed the Barkeep has no Drutash grubs, he only planned to harass the Wookiee with them. He swirls in his stool, observing some of the people in the bar, keeping his eye on the stormtrooperrs.

The Bith band starts to play a new set, perhaps trying to break the tension in the wake of the wreck.

The small redheaded human at the bar, between Wookie and Fenriz picks up her refilled glass of purple and turns towards Alrez, “Maybe so.” she says and takes a sip or two, not adding anything more to that.

Theron turns back and looks full on at Phoenix, his gaze is rather appraising, “So, how are we doing these days?”

The fat man takes a dirty cloth out of the pockets of his heavy brown jacket and wipes some sweat off his brow. He looks at Fett nervously. “I’m…I’m sorry. Problems with my speeder, damn thing’s always breaking down. Shall we, uh, go to a table?”

Wuher nods to Landon. “What?”

Kail weaves his way through the crowd of beings with expert ease, careful not to make eye-contact with anyone as he ignores what stares he might garner as a child determinedly making his way through the establishment. Finally achieving his goal, he ducks underneath the board to peer behind the bar itself, breath still slightly unsteady from a recent run. “Uncle Wuher? Sorry’m late…” he calls out uncertainly.

Phoenix is sitting in a booth, talking to The. On the holoviewer is a repeat of the races, showing two ‘racers bumping into each other and then crashing. Ix shrugs, “I’m doing ok. Helped a..new neighbour get settled in today. You?”

Wuher grumbles at Kail, and beckons with a beefy hand. “Get over here and get to work, ya laggard.”

Boba Fett gets up without a word and moves toward a table in the shadows, his head turning just once in the direction of the stormtroopers. He takes a seat at a table in the shadows, his blaster rifle clinking against his armor as he moves.

Landon gives as polite a smile to Wuher as he can before leaning over the bar and giving a whisper, “I’m… looking for some possible work. The place seems busy…” he says while slipping a few credits over the bar.

Tyr turns and meets Boba Fett’s gaze, well, at least helmet to helmet, but then turns back to Jonathan, who he waits to respond to his question.

The fat man sits across the table from Fett, dabbing his forehead again with the dirty rag. “Uh, now…Lurga sent me to attend to the final details of the contract.”

Aayroki Boh slinks in, her ragged blue wrap clutched close about her. With nervous eyes and lekku that twine together under her chin, tips writhing, she slips to one side of the door and pauses to take stock.

Wuher furrows his brow at Landon, then eyes the credits and pockets them. “What kinda work?”

Tyr speaks into his commlink.

Neela takes an empty seat at the bar and motions to wuhur “how much for an ale?” she asks brushing an errant strand of red hair from her face. Fenriz who seems to have caught her attention

Jonathan unclasps the collar and lets it fold down a bit, revealing the rest of his face as he looks towards the stromtroopers. “Yes?” He asks softly, blandly. Yet managing a tone of respect. Head tilts a touch as he quirks one eyebrow slightly.

Landon licks his lips, shrugging slightly, “Courier work mostly, or odd jobs, anything that’s not too hot. You know what I mean…” he says, giving an optimisticly encouraging smile.

Kail bobs his head with a grimace at Wuher’s tone, quickly scrambling past the man to an outdated and much the worse for wear terminal to bring up a list of orders.

“Have you seen this woman?” Keeping one hand on his blaster, Tyr uses his other to remove a face-pic of a woman and show it to Jonathan. “She is wanted, a bounty hunter.”

Jaehar blinks once and looks up at the stormtrooper. She eyes him briefly and responds, “Yes?”

Fett leans back, the red glass of his helmet visor gleaming in the dim light. “Details?” he asks. “The job’s finished. The hutt owes me ten thousand. Now.”

Fenriz finishes his Correlian Vodka. “Give me another.”

Wuher nods to Neela and jerks a thumb at Kail. “See my nephew if you want somethin’. I’m busy.” He then returns his attention to Landon. “Courier?” He rubs his double chins. “Yeah, well, I guess that might come in handy.”

Alrez nods toward Fenriz, still looking at Sowyn, “Your friend seems to be having a busy day.”

Aayroki Boh’s eyes dart over the crowd and fix on Neela. The Twi’lek squares her shoulders a little bit and starts to work her way over to the other woman, skittering out of the way of the better-dressed patrons.

Jonathan stares at the pic and than shakes his head a touch. “No, I don’t know her.. I don’t think I’ve seen her.” He shrugs and than raps a knuckle loudly on the bartop. Leaning forward on his forearms slightly.

Theron coughs slightly, “Still finding out how deep the villiany can run, little one.” He smiles, “But on to lighter subjects…this new neighbor of yours…no knife threats?” He looks over the crowd awaintg Ix’s response as he sips his drink.

The fat man looks at Boba Fett even more nervously. “Um, yes, well…you see, Lurga wanted your target ALIVE,” he says, perhaps stressing that last word a bit too much. “He…he made that very clear when you took the job. He never said anything about…disintegration.”

Dieshanka makes her way over to a table near Fetts and drops down into the seat. She motions at the young boy serving drinks.

Landon gives a slight roll of the eye and slips Wuher another few credits, “Good couriers are allways in short supply. Know anyone with a job opening?” he asks, glancing sidewards at some of the booths.

Tyr nods his head once. It’s not like he expected random people to know the woman. “Thank you,” he says, replacing the picture and then moving towards Fett and the fat one, positioning himself nearby, but being, well, discreet, as much as an officer in Stormtrooper armor can be in a land of ne’er do-wells.

Phoenix half-turns, as if to try and see the pic that Jonathan’s being shown. But of course, she could just be looking around to make sure no one’s about to try and harm her. She shakes her head, attention returning to The, “Nah, no knife threats. I think she’d’ve jumped out of her skin if I’d done that–honestly, she’s in worse shape then I am. Helped her get settled into one of the empty houses.”

Without turning from his drink. “My Friend, I see you are a civilian I know not your name. Today I lost 100 on a pod race and a stinking Rodian ran off with some of my merchandise, expensive merchandise. You could say it has been a bad day.”

Fahlon examines Jaehar for a moment, remaining still while the movements of his eyes are hidden by his helmet. A click brings the external comm system onlne. “The Empire is searching for a bounty hunter who has comitted high crimes against the Empire. If you or anyone you know knows anything about the death of an Imperial Governor at Bounty Hunter hands, you are to report it immediately.” A click within the helm signals that the conversation is over.

Palming the credits, Wuher looks left, then right, then back at Landon before leaning forward and, in a grumbling whisper, he says, “Talk to Fett. He’s always in the market for good information.”

Boba Fett’s voice is steady, but contains a hint of annoyance through the speaker filters of his helmet. “The target resisted,” he says. “Sometimes it happens. Either way, Lurga doesn’t have to worry about him any more. Now, my payment.”

Neela peers down at kail giving him a warm smile “How much for ale?” she says in a softer tone

Dieshanka motions again at Kail.

Landon follows his look and frowns slightly, “Fett? Bounty hunter feller? That’s a little rsky business… but it’s not like pay won’t be good…” Another few credits makes it appearance in his palm, “What do you know about his… latest… jobs?” he asks with a sly smile.

Fenriz looks in Neela’s direction, “Do not worry about the price, for a shall buy a drink for such a beautiful lady.”

Kail tilts his head alertly at Wuher’s motion toward him, eyes straying past to Neela when she speaks. Wordlessly, he holds up a hand with three fingers extended as he looks toward Dieshanka’s motion. “Ma’am?”

Alrez turns his attention to Fenriz now, “My name’s Alrez Taan, but I don’t imagine you’ve heard of me. Just came hoping to watch the race. That Rodian, do you know his name?”

Aayroki Boh edges into the space beside Neela, lifting her cupped dirty hands to the well-dressed woman. “Please, Lady, can you spare a credit or two?” she asks hopefully.

Sowyn glances at Fenzir, then back at Alrez, “Yeah, seems to be.” She lifts her glass and takes a long sip of the purple liquid, gazing around the bar over the rim as she drinks.

Jaehar listens, her expression neutral. The fingers of one hand drum quietly on the scarred table top. She nods once at the stormtrooper and replies carefully a tense edge to her tone, “Of course…I assure you I have no such knowledge.”

The fat man looks even more nervous, and backs away from the table slightly. “Well, ah, that’s just it, see…Lurga’s…only willing to pay five thousand, since you um…failed, er, a, did not deliver the target as requested.”

Theron smirks, “No doubt. I suppose you’re telling me she’s not in any sort of gang, yet?” His eyes narrow slightly, “Are you looking to adopt her?”

Wuher peers at the credits in Landon’s hand. His eyes drift to the bounty hunter at his table. Then they return to Landon and he just shakes his head, wordlessly.

Fenriz says, “Well Taan, his name is not important for I doubt you will know him, besides I can’t even pronounce it.”

Phoenix blinks, “She’s older’n me, I think. But she really isn’t in a gang yet.” She glances around again, “She’s a Twi’lek. Seemed pretty interested in whether or not she could make sure no one else could get in her home while she’s sleeping.”

Landon nods soundlessly, but passes half of his handfull over the table anyway, “Thanks… you’ve been a help…” he says, then turns to Fett, “Keep your ears open though…”

Tyr keeps his head pointed towards the bar, but his back is to Fett and the fat man’s table. And it’s impossible to see where his hearing is directed in that armor.

“You have the five thousand with you now?” says Boba Fett’s mechanically filtered voice.

Fahlon leaves Jaehar, apparently satisfied with the answer. The Stormtrooper meanders the cantina, noting the location of the other Troopers.

Wuher grunts at Landon, then wipes his hands on his grubby towel. He looks toward Kail. “Boy!” he shouts over the din of the crowd. “Bar’s yours for now.” Without further explanation, he turns and heads for the back room.

The fat man nods, and slides some money across the table to Fett. “Yeah…yes, sir. Here you go.”

Alrez nods slowly, then shrugs, “Sure, just thought I might be able to help out, y’know? Say, you wouldn’t know where I could find the guy you placed your bet with, wouldya?”

Jaehar watches the armored figure walk away her eyes narrowing at his back. Her fingers come to rest on the tabletop as her expression tightens into a scowl.

Fenriz, still with his back to Alrez. “Sure, his name is Derv he works at the spaceport.”

Theron notes the appearance of a begging Twi’lek in the cantina, “Is that her?” Theron looks out towards the bar island.

Landon starts approaching Fett’s table but he slows he sees that a business transaction with the fat man is going on. Taking caution as the better part of valour he heads to a nearby empty table and sits down there instead.

Dieshanka walks up to the bar herself and orders a drink.

Sowyn listens to Alrez and Fenriz while she watches the activity in the bar.

In the back of the tavern, a figure in a hooded brown robe gets up from his table in the shadows. He moves closer to the holo array, watching the wreck as it replays once again. The glow of the array briefly illuminates a bearded chin within the folds of the hood. Then, without a word, the hooded figure moves toward the street, and vanishes from the cantina.

Kail waves after Wuher distractedly to indicate he had heard, a slump of the shoulders indicating a silent sigh before he is moving to fulfill another called order.

Jonathan looks Kail and watches silently for a moment. Than slaps the back of his knuckles on the bartop, hard. “Hey!” He calls towards him as a frown slants across his features.

Boba Fett reaches across the table without warning to grab the fat man by the shirt. He hauls him halfway across the table, knocking most of the money onto the floor. “Good,” he says. “Now you go back to Nal Hutta and tell Lurga that he owes me another five, or he’ll have much bigger problems than a gambler who refuses to pay his debts. Got it?”

Fenriz leans over toward Boh, “I overheard a conversation, I’d leave now if i were you.”

Phoenix looks in the direction The’s glancing in, “Yeah, that’s her.” She keeps an eye on Roki, slipping to the edge of her seat.

Dieshanka returns to her table near Boba Fetts, slipping into the booth.

Tyr’s head turns instinctively at the sound of Fett grabbing the fellow and hauling him cross the table, but while his grip on his blaster tightens, he seems to believe they have the situation under control.

Aayroki Boh turns away, ignored, and turns her eyes across the crowd again. She glances nervously at the military presence here and then to the door, her lekku twistinng. Darting a glance at Fenriz she mutters, “What is it, Sir…? Oh!” She looks across to Fett and then begins edging for the door.

The fat man’s face scrunches up into a mask of sheer terror. Sweat drips down his face in rivulets. “Yes…yes…absolutely Mr. Fett. I’ll tell him. Five thousand. Just please….please…”

Fenriz hisses “Quick.”

Kail starts at the sharp rap of knuckles on the bar, hurriedly pushing an appetizer of small orange critters that haven’t realized their dead yet in front of a patron before he moves over toward Jonathan. “Yessir?”

Theron brings a commlink up to his lips and whispers into it.

Dieshanka smiles watching Fett in action.

Tyr speaks into his commlink.

Alrez nods at Fenriz, waiting for the hushed conversation to finish between him and the patron next to him, “Thanks, friend. I’ll have to look him up sometime.”

Theron speaks into his commlink.

Landon keeps an eye on the activity at the Fett’s table, his eyes narrowing slightly. He gives a slight shake of the head before mumbling something.

Fenriz says, “You do that… But let me warn you: gambling is a mugs’ game, I just lost a hundred on someone I thought was a dead cert.”