- Character Profile
- Apr 2, 2021
- Reaction score
Take advantage. Use anything you can to mask yourself. Exploit any weakness, use the chaos to help you.
Using the cover of a plague was hardly what they'd meant. But it presented Eveline with the best chance she'd ever have. Nar Shaddaa was getting consumed by it, overrun with swarms of the walking dead. All across the smuggler's moon, the smaller gangs and crews were looking to conserve what they could and ride it out. They'd retreated to their most defensible businesses, hoping to hold them. The ones that weren't rich or clever enough to get out. That suited Eveline just fine.
The Slurped Slimeslug was the kind of dive cantina that you'd expect some crew to run. This crew had information, though. They had sources. Her contact told her that they had what she wanted. A link. A connection. Something that would tell her more about AMS. Or rather, who. So she'd waited. Scouted it out, drank there a few times. Right up until the chaos came close and resolve was wearing thin.
There were few drinkers there that night. The distant screams were hard to drown in cheap booze. She knew some of the crew were there though, waiting nervously. Preparing to move, or hunker down, depending on what their boss said.
They'll be saying a lot more tonight, once I'm done.
Vibroknife on her hip, beneath the hooded coat. Blaster too. Bow folded in the duffle-bag by her feet as she sipped her horrid drink. Waiting for the right moment. Plenty of mutters from around the place. Talk of getting out and ships, from the clientele and the 'cantina staff.' Eveline had never seen thugs looking so worried.
With a twist of her hand, she tossed her glass behind the bar. It shattered, making the bartender jump off his feet.
"Musta slipped, sorry," Eveline told him, affecting a slightly drunk slurring. The bartender groaned, kneeling down to pick up the shards. "I'll... I'll pay," she said, reaching for her hip, reaching down, fingers round her blaster.
"You're damn right you'll pay, whaddya think this is, a-" the bartender said, his words cut off by the presence of a blaster barrel right in his face. Eveline glared at him darkly.
"Say nothing," she whispered.