The Erudite Explorer. Not the most flashy of drinking holes on Coruscant, nor the best equipped. But what it lacked in crowds it made up for in atmosphere. Specifically, the kind of easy-drinking quietness that let you think about your life, wallow in your problems and... conduct questionable deals in relative seclusion. The music was always just a little too loud to hear what was being said in the booths at the back. The lights were just a little too dim and the shades too thick to get a serious, long look at whoever was conducting business.
Tonight, it was Rhea herself. Bored out of her mind, nursing a cocktail that was so vile that she felt like torturing the bar-droid. How that many circuits and chips can butcher decent alcohol like this absolutely astounds me. A cigarra hung from her slender fingers as she waited, eyes primed towards the door. Her gaze would move away sometimes, towards the datapad on the table or at some of the patrons of her bar, but always back on the door afterwards.
It promised to be something tasty. Something that'd set her up good. She'd poured what limited credits she'd had after her Outer Rim work into this place and damn it, she was going to get some serious action through it or... well, she'd probably burn it to the ground.
Come on, antiques or stolen guns. Art forgeries. Kriff, I'd take a spice racket at this rate. Anything to get it going. Anything... then I can buy some bloody decent drink.