Ask Roll the Old Chariot

[Darth Stolas]

While the planet Kalevala wasn't exactly a backwater, with it's relative wealth and fascinating history, the 'toxic desert' part was far from the Firrerreon's favourite. He supposed his own home wasn't ideal for the people of Kalevala either and silently rejoiced in the existence of high quality air conditioning.

But Morgan was here for a reason even if it wasn't an overtly Sith-specific one for once. The First Light, the historic Kalevalan star yacht, had been recovered some time ago. Repair crews and droids had gone over it to do what they could but in the end it needed to be taken to its own docks for proper repair and refurbish, which is part of why it took so long in the first place. Kalevalan Spaceworks was a fairly exclusive company and had a wait list, on top of needing to verify the ship's identity. But at last he was here, and they were working on it. Likely it helped he was rather polite for a Sith.

Unfortunately this meant more waiting and hypothetically this visit was just another check-in, but Morgan had showed up with other ideas today. There were goings-on in the underworld of the Mandalorian planet that he'd like resolved and it was simply outside his immediate sphere of intelligence. Which was exactly what bounty hunters were for, and why he'd put out a job to find one who would work with him. Or at least meet him first.

So now he waited in plain-clothes, wearing robes typical of the planet's people and seated on a park bench. Early evening provided reprieve from the sun while he read from a datapad and idly smoked. With any luck this mysterious Mandalorian man could help find and remove the group Morgan wanted gone. It was doing neither him nor the locals any favours, and whatever they thought of Sith he was rather fond of their warrior culture.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Kalevala was quite familiar to Nox. Not only had his clan visited multiple times to resupply but it was ripe for bounty hunting as well. Having recently just finished a hunt, he came to the planet to resupply his munitions when a notice caught his eye and the healthy reward that was claimed to come with it. There was no pressing business for the clan at that moment and work could never be rejected, especially during these times. When he was fully supplied, he made his way toward the meeting location.

Nox walked into the park as he cut through the small crowds toward a specific destination. The planet was in Mandalorian space, so the armor wasn't an uncommon enough sight but they knew to stay out of the way. The bench that had been specified came into view for him, a lone man sitting on while he smoked a cigarra, completely at ease. Nox would eventually stop with a respectable distance between them, his helmeted gaze staring through the T-visor as he peered at the Firrerreon. It would remain there for a few seconds before he lifted it and gave a quick glance around the surrounding area, just to make sure it would be only him.

When it appeared clear enough to him, Nox stepped forward toward the bench. His cape covered the right half of his body and hid a good portion of his armor but his left side showed a few battle scars and that it had been tested. The butt of his rifle stuck out above his left shoulder and he reached a hand up to pull it free from his back before he sat down, the rifle resting on his lap afterward and aimed toward Stolas' direction but not at him. The mandalorian sat there for a few seconds as he watched a few people just walk by them and leave them be.

Nox eventually turned his head slightly toward the robed man, "Are you the contact?" His voice was modulated but not to be disguised, just naturally by his helmet.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan looked up from his datapad to glance at an armoured figured approaching the area he was seated in. This one was from different from another that he'd spotted before, garbed in much more practical gear and with a proper blaster. His eyes returned to the pad while the man scoped out the area. He didn't need his eyes to keep track of a person but he did need them to read.

It was when the Mandalorian sat down that Morgan paid more direction attention, his head tilting slightly toward him. Golden eyes took in the scarred and well-fought appearance of the plates, the way the individual sat, the polite but cautious arrangement of his weapon. A very good first impression for a bounty hunter to make in Morgan's opinion.

"Would be awkward if I wasn't," he answered with mild amusement in clipped and accented basic, lowering the datapad. "You know the back alleys here well?" Morgan unfortunately knew the corporations better than the underworld in this area of space. "They're in need of a little sweeping."

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

A smirk spread across the Mandalorian's lips at Morgan's comment and he was glad his helmet hid it from view. "Well, for you. Probably." Nox gave a quick tilt of his head before returning it to place, a form of a shrug for him without having to lift his shoulders. He was the one with the rifle on his lap, after all, he was always comfortable with it. The skinny-robed man asked if he knew the alleys well and it made him pause as he studied the contact, his gaze hidden underneath his black and unpenetrable T-visor.

His appearance and accent made him seem like the type that wouldn't really care about what happened on the streets of this planet. But a job was a job and the man had the credits to support the endeavor and that's what was important. Nox gave him a nod, "Enough to not get lost." It was familiar territory and the underworld was becoming some of the most common territories for him. It was proving to be quite a mine of credits but Nox was beginning to crave something else and hopefully, this could be the first step to sate it.

The next comment made Nox chuckle that time, "And who or what do you specifically have in mind of being swept away? There are quite a few rats." While the underworld certainly held some friends for him, it also held some despisable people that made a living leeching off other's vices and sins. It made him wonder but the man didn't seem to be law enforcement and the Mandalorian was pretty sure he would have spotted his face if he worked amongst the gangs. Nox paused for a moment before adding on, "Your answer will possibly tweak my price."

 

[Darth Stolas]

His cigarra briefly found his lips, the burning end glowing as he took a drag and golden eyes fully took in the appearance and mannerisms of the armoured stranger. Morgan seemed unperturbed by the man's response but rather amused, a lip's corner curling up in what was almost a smirk. Above it his gaze was sharp and hawk-like. Given enough time Nox was likely to notice that's just how it usually was.

"That will do, then." Ash was flicked from his cigarra as smoke lazily drifted from between his lips and wandered away from the two men on the bench. Eyes briefly glanced toward the datapad and back to the Mandalorian. "A particular group of traffickers who also have undue influence in Mandalorian space. They do little to help the current situation." Kalevala was one thing, but the Mandalorian people were still floundering in some ways. Being a part of the Free Worlds didn't seem to be much help either. This didn't surprise Morgan either.

"Gar Ya'r, I believe." The Iron Chain. It was at least, technically, a partially Mandalorian-run operation, but not exactly known for honourable conduct. Just another hindrance as far as Stolas was concerned, leeching off the more transient and scattered nature of the Mandalorian people in modern times.

"I pay well. Price concerns me little over results."

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

A particular group of traffickers. They had and still cause trouble for his clan and others as they meant for their power to be permanent. It resulted in some known houses being turned into depots or other stations as they tried to remove his culture's influence. It was infuriating but he had never been stationary enough to ever try and push back against it. It appeared the job the robed man was offering was also some revenge for him to seize.

The words that came out of Stolas' mouth completely caught him off guard. They were Mando'a and it was an uncommon sight to see an outsider speak his natural tongue, even though it was only a name. It made a quick wave of unease pass over him as it made him believe the robed man knew much more than what he was dressed as, especially knowing about a fellow Mandalorian. With his concern over the Keeper's influence in Mandalorian space as well, it made Nox wonder what his interests really were.

It was unfortunate that the target was a fellow Mandalorian for him. The idea to take down one of his own never appealed to him and never will. Gar ya'r, however, had chosen his path and it conflicted with his and the clan's, turning it into a necessary obstacle to remove, even with the pay. "That will be some weight. He's well protected."

Nox stood up from the bench, his rifle slung back over his shoulder while his cape unfolded down his right. "If you're coming with me, I need to know if I have to keep one eye on you. Can you fight?" If the answer was no, it would certainly change the tactics he would have to use. One eye on combat and on another person normally spelled a death sentence and would limit what he could do. A dead man meant no pay and he couldn't have that. Hopefully, the answer was a yes.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Unfortunately the sharp-eyed Firrerreo couldn't see the Mandalorian's face or the moment of discomfort would have been funny. Instead he seemed more interested in his datapad again. "Not well enough. Only hidden." At least for someone like Stolas. He spoke with a sort of casual confidence in what he said but did not elaborate.

Morgan only looked up properly again when Nox stood from the bench, an eyebrow raising slightly at the armoured man's question. He managed to only look slightly amused by the situation. It wasn't the other man's fault he didn't know who the Firrerreo actually was given that he hadn't told him any of that information but it was still funny. But it was also a prudent question toward an employer that Morgan could appreciate.

"Will be going along," he replied with a slight curl to his lips, "Can handle myself just fine." A final drag of his cigarra was taken before it was put out in a public ashtray. Morgan stood up from the bench and brushed off the front to even it out and offered the datapad forward. It held the basic task information, including targets and payment, and there was no reason for him to keep hold of it if the other man was accepting the job.

"Shall we go, then? Or do you need time to prepare?"

This particular Sith was also an experienced black ops and wetwork agent. Morgan was no stranger to killing and had come prepared beneath the concealing robes with his basic gear if not his entire showy Sith outfit. He never wore that kind of thing when he was working, drew attention. Basic weaponry was another matter.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Nox felt that a full complement of guards and droids was pretty good protection but the Firrerreo thought differently and countered that he was only well hidden. The man had a strange air of confidence and authority that the Mandalorian couldn't place as everything just seemed to brush past him with ease. It stood out easily on this planet as it was quite the opposite of everyone else who was barely scraping by to survive unless they were the oppressors. It was something he took note of.

Thankfully, the Firrerreo answered that he could handle himself. There wasn't a reason to lie about it unless he wanted himself dead. "Good." It meant he could protect himself at the very least. The datapad was offered to him and Nox reached out and accepted it, flipping it over for the screen to face him as he read over the details. After a few moments of reading, The Mandalorian gave a brief nod, "We can go but we need to meet someone first. He'll help us find your man." It was one of the first contacts he ever made and a face he hadn't seen in a long time.

Nox slipped the datapad onto his belt before he turned and led the way further into the town. He took the back alleys as he walked with confidence, residents and other pedestrians stepping out of the two's way, especially with a fully armed Mandalorian. After a few more twists and turns, they would eventually end up near the market square, the shouts of merchants not too far off in the distance. They were ignored however as Stolas was directed away and down an alley that shrunk the further they got. They would eventually reach a lone door, the area around it well taken care of.

The Mandalorian glanced toward Stolas before closing his hand into a fist and smacking it hard on the metal frame of the entrance three times. A slit in the door opened a few moments later, a pair of droid's eyes staring at Stolas at first. When its gaze landed on Nox, it shut the slit and before the sound of mechanisms being unlocked. The door slid open and there wasn't any hesitation as the Mando stepped inside.

When they were in the building, they would find themselves in a typical general store. Shelves and tables all displayed food and other supplies, keeping up the appearance. At the back of the store, there was a counter with a large Gran standing behind it. When the owner brought his gaze to the Mandalorian, he threw his arms up in the air, "Wolf!" Nox walked over as he gave a nod, "Braka." They both extended their arm as they clasped each other's forearm momentarily before letting go. Braka peeked over to Stolas, "Who this?"

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan didn't protest the extra stop and instead followed along aside the armoured man with an air of mild curiousity. Golden eyes took in the features of the town and it's various peoples, similar to but a far cry from the time of the old Republic where Kalavela's wealth and diplomatic weight held real meaning. It annoyed the man and reminded him of a certain history closer to him in a sense. Ancient happenings aside, what was the purpose of bringing the Mandalorians into the Free Worlds at all?

Empty gestures and faithless promises, no doubt.

Through winding side-roads and pathways they went without much in the way of conversation. Morgan didn't always need words to understand a person, or even a face to watch though it helped, and he was content with just looking out for those little interesting details in those around him. Eventually it was just Nox to watch, at least until they found a door. Rap, rap, rap on the store door, three times and nothing more.

Droid eyes looked at them, leering, before it retreated and the two of them walked within. Apparently the Mandalorian was 'Wolf' and the Gran was 'Braka'. Morgan's eyes moved from a shelf to Braka before answering the question himself. "Morgan," he greeted simply with a friendly little smile a minute dip of his head. "He tells me you can help us find something?"

The Firrerreo didn't seem discomforted in this unfamiliar place but rather took it in stride. He was, after all, a professional.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Brake had turned to Wolf, expecting an answer but then Morgan himself offered his name to them and mentioned that he needed to help. Both he and the Gran slowly turned their heads to stare at him for a few seconds, what the hell kind of name was that? Nox couldn't help but think to himself before both of them turned back to look at each other again and he just gave the Gran a slight shrug. Braka nodded slightly at Morgan either way before he turned away and made his way back to get behind the counter. "So, what can Braka help with?" He leaned on the counter, waiting eagerly.

Nox approached the counter and reached into his belt and pulled out the datapad to toss it on the counter for it to be read. He trusted the Gran with his life and didn't mind sharing the details of what they were doing. Braka picked up the datapad and scrolled through the contents as he pulled out a pair of unique spectacles to read. When he finished, he dropped the PDA down and shook his head. "Braka thinks your insane." With a quick shake of his head, "You trust me, nothing will come down on you." Braka shook his head vigorously, "Braka trust you, you are Mandalorian. Your word matters to you and to Braka. You are open book."

The Gran then peered over to Morgan, "Morgan, is stranger. He bares no symbol, only blank robes, a blank motive to Braka. Iron Chain find him, easily make him talk and give up Braka." Nox slowly glanced over to Morgan, studying him a few seconds before bringing his T-visor to his friend as he crossed his arms, "He's not a stranger he's... paying me. I vouch for him. He won't talk." The Gran stared at Nox for a few seconds, then at Morgan, then back to the Mandalorian before gesturing with his hand to Morgan, "His word."

Nox exhaled but relented and offered a look to Morgan before jutting his head to Braka, "Give it, Morgan." Based on their tone, he would be able to tell this was more valuable than any amount of credits that could be offered to the Gran. It was serious to Braka and while both of them didn't know he was a Sith and most likely leave the planet, they most likely thought he stayed on the planet or near it, making it serious for the Mandalorian as well with the Keepers having the possibility to seek revenge against him. The two stared at the Sith and waited patiently.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan's level of concern for the stares his introduction garnered could be measured by the width of a particularly minute grain of sand, his expression quite ordinary. After the other two had turned away he went back to looking around the shop at the different shelves of goods, the material things were made of, the seams and corners of the room. He busied himself briefly with looking over the food offerings near the counter while they spoke.

Even if it might appear he wasn't paying all that much attention, one ear was always slightly angled toward the conversation. An amused smirk appeared on his fine features when making him talk was mentioned. Morgan approached the counter again with a local candy bar and a blue fruit grown on another Mandalorian planet and placed them both down as Braka insisted the Firrerreo give his word. The Gran's caution was reasonable, but still funny in its own way.

"They will hear nothing of you from me," he said evenly. Not that they would know it but he did have a reputation for keeping his word. A bit of local currency was pulled from within a sleeve to pay for the snacks and offered forward. "Don't speak of sources." He smiled a little in a vaguely friendly sort of way, or at least it would seem moreso if not for the barest sign of razor fangs that peeked out behind his lips.

Besides, even if this group of criminals managed to capture him long enough for torture, he somehow doubted they hit hard enough anyway. Morgan's people weren't exactly for their gentle play and games.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Both of them waited for the man to give his word and when he did, the tension in the air eased a little, at least for the other two. He added the comment of not speaking on sources and the Gran slowly turned his head to gaze upon Nox. The Mandalorian held the alien's gaze for a few moments, silently saying even with the helmet, I'll be the first one to shoot him if he's lying. Debating with himself but coming to an answer, Braka nodded a few times and pushed the items across the counter back to the Sith, and swiped the credits in one fluid motion. "Braka accepts then." It was gestured for both of them to sit down as if part of a real business deal. With his foot, the Mandalorian slid a chair over to Morgan and took his own seat.

Braka picked up the datapad again, the unique spectacles pulled out again as he gave the contents a quick run-through. He would let the pair sit in silence until he found something, the alien letting out a celebratory chuckle as one of his massive fingers smacked the datapad. "One of his known contacts. He comes to the store from time to time." The Gran flipped the device over for them to view, a human with a whole assortment of face tattoos. "Braka can't forget that one."

The man sported ginger hair and with the face tattoos, it was certainly an unfortunate combo if one didn't want to be seen. "His associate?" Nox questioned, more along the lines of asking, Why aren't they being given the big fish? The Gran nodded, "Braka doesn't know actual Iron Chain's location. But based on what the human picks up, Braka would think he possesses a full squad of men." Braka had spent most of his life in his store and that made him quite a talented clerk and his assessment of supply use was trustworthy to at least the Mando. The Gran then motioned to the door behind him, "Along with battery packs, Braka can suspect at least around twelve droids as well."

Nox exhaled softly before deciding to ask, "When was the last time he picked up these supplies?" That's when the Gran let out a big and goofy grin that showed all his teeth, "A week ago." A hidden smirk and humorous scoff came from the Mandalorian and he looked over to Morgan, "Then we wait." He suspected it wouldn't be too long before there would be another pickup.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan went right for the candy bar while the other two looked at each other. The Mandalorian had the helmet but Braka didn't and that made it much easier for the sharp-eyed young man to pick up the little details. Even so he only watched and listened for a little while when the Gran decided out loud to accept.

He sat in the offered chair quite comfortably and quietly ate his snack. Golden eyes moved from Braka to the datapad's screen and the man displayed on it. A squad of soldiers and a dozen droids the alien had estimated, numbers the Firrerreo intended to remember. Idly he wondered what sort of droids but supposed it didn't matter unless they were particularly impressive. The soldiers were much more variable as organics tended to be.

"Wait we will," the Sith agreed. Catching this red-haired human would still be less tedious than scouring the city for wherever the Iron Chain was hiding. When it came to hunting at least, Morgan could be very patient. His eyes turned to look at Wolf for a moment. Not only was the Mandalorian professional he seemed to know what he was doing so far. "There's a place nearby we can wait in. Unless you have another suggestion?"

If they caught the man at the right time, suffice to say a narrow alley wasn't the best place to be ambushed and made following fairly simple. "You're the bounty hunter, after all."

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

With the plan of waiting for the contact to show being agreed upon, and the fact that he was asked about a nearby place to do so, the Mandalorian stood up from the chair, ready to get on the move. They collected what they needed to know and the longer they stayed, the higher the possibility they put Braka in danger. "I can think of something." Nox then turned to Braka and gave him a slow nod, "Thank you, friend."

Braka bowed slightly in response, "Of course. Braka says goodbye to you Wolf and to you as well Morgan." The Gran then sat down behind his counter once more as he slid a PDA over to him and committed to the eternal wait of a customer entering his shop once again. The Mando gestured with his head to the door and took point to lead his partner to it.

Both of them didn't get too far before the Gran called out to them, all of his eyes still on the PDA as he rested his head in one of his hands. "Wolf, Braka knows you know the rules. The shop doesn't run on good fortune and favors. Morgan already held up his end." Nox did know but it didn't mean he didn't try to escape it every time. The Mandalorian stopped for a moment to glance around before just picking up a small bag of crackers and slipping it into his belt. He pulled out a couple of credits and tossed them onto the counter, "Of course."

As the two exited from the store, they would be able to hear the Gran call out to them, "Braka thanks you for your valuable credits!" Nox didn't take them far, in fact, only to the end of the alley as they entered some hole in the wall cantina. It wasn't the most impressive place but it served its function well. There was a window that gave an easy viewing of the entire alley and Braka's shop, acting as the perfect nest for them.

There was a table near it and pushed into the corner as well. The Mando walked over and sat in the seat that was in the corner as he rested one of his arms on the long window sill. It could be a while before the ginger showed up or it could have been an hour from now. It was just something that both would find out when it actually happened and that let them both either do what they wanted or just sit there in silence.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Something about the requirement of actually buying something was rather funny to Morgan, although rather than comment he just kept on working on his candy bar. He slightly inclined his dead toward Braka after he stood from his chair, said "So long Braka," and after Wolf paid for his crackers he followed along on the way to the cantina. Morgan seemed somehow in a fairly good mood judging by his bearing although he never quite actually smiled.

He sank with relative comfort in a different chair from the Mandalorian, eyes briefly sweeping over the room around them. It was technically occupied but not busy. It only took about five seconds for the bartender to notice they didn't have drinks and start a particularly intense bit of staring. Morgan stared back for a few moments before raising a hand. Two fingers came up, then it moved flatly horizontally and wiggled a little, two fingers rubbed together, and one digit tip-tapped the tabletop.

"I've always wondered," he began conversationally, his gaze moving to the window mid-sentence to watch the alley. "Do those helmets have straws, or...?" It was a legitimate question out of curiosity. Morgan really couldn't get the idea of a Mandalorian with a silly straw out of his head otherwise.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

When Nox had sat, a soft exhale had slipped from underneath his helmet as he stared out of the dirty window, always "enjoying" these parts, at least with company. Both of them didn't know how long it would take for this contact to show, it was varied each time apparently, and it could result in them being there for hours. That meant to him that it was a prime opportunity to have drinks and pass the mysterious time they needed for their mark to reveal themselves. With it on his mind, he was about to turn and order mugs for themselves but then Morgan had already caught the drift and did the universal signal for acquiring them.

The Mandalorian tapped his foot rhythmically and almost to the beat of his own heart, it quiet and an action to do as he could never just sit still. There was something about the idea of doing so that completely unnerved him, even in such places as a cantina. His gaze finally separated from the store when he heard Morgan ask his question, his helmet slowly turning until the T-visor met his eyes and he could see his own reflection in them. While the helmet masked any emotion, Morgan would be able to just sense the mild shock and that he was just asking silently, That was really your first question to ask?

His gaze was interrupted as the bartender brought both of the mugs and placed them in front of their respective owners. Without saying a word, Nox picked up his and held it in the air slightly, saying without a word and a quick tilt of his head, Watch this. The bes'kar helmet was tilted up to reveal a dark bearded chin before he brought the mug to his mouth to take a huge gulp. He placed back down in front of him with his helmet dropping back in place, it nearly half gone already.

"Was school hard for you being named Morgan?" Maybe it was supposed to be his turn to ask a ridiculous question, it could turn out to be a fun game after all. There was nothing better to do since their requirement was to only sit there and wait.

 

[Darth Stolas]

The revelation that the Mandalorian's helmet didn't include an emergency induction port of some sort was almost disappointing. How fun would it be if the painted, scarred, and shined helmets deployed silly straws? Well, fun for Morgan at least. He supposed it didn't much fit their image. Oh well, surprise from the other man aside, at least the Firrerreo's question was humoured.

Morgan drank idly of his own mug of whatever local middle-shelf brew this was and wondered to himself how annoying a beard in armour could possibly be. A dark brow rose in amusement at Wolf's question. "More gained from my name than just trouble," the Firrerreo replied conversationally, the corners of his lips curling up into the beginnings of a grin. "But from Morgan, no. Should I have, Mr. Wolf?" He chalked up the question to cultural differences in the end. Either way he didn't seem the slightest bit offended. Besides, at that young of an age he'd probably have just hit someone who wanted to poke at his name for some reason.

"What sort of wolf are you, anyway?"

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

The alcohol was refreshing and gave a little jolt to his system, savoring the taste even though it was average at best. Brew was still brew to him and he could always appreciate it in any setting. At Morgan's response, the firrerreo would be able to catch a humorous scoff slipping from underneath his helmet as he then asked another question about whether if he should have or not. The Mandalorian wouldn't be able to tell if this was some of trap or warning and he didn't really care as he just bulldozed and answered truthfully with a slight shrug, "Probably, I could see you being a pompous bastard when you were younger."

Nox just went off what he was able to see of Morgan's face, a clean canvas that more pronounced his pretty-boy features instead of any marks of battle, unknown to him the brandings and scars underneath the Sith's clothing. The Mandalorian also just went off the small interactions at Braka's and his overall courtliness that wasn't really the norm in this stretch of the galaxy.

Then Morgan asked what type of wolf he was and it made Nox pause for a moment, the silent gaze of his T-visor meeting his opposite's golden ones. There was a reason why he was called that but in a weird and brief moment, the Mandalorian had almost answered truthfully in a different way and said, 'One that misses its pack.' While his clan had been nomadic, he had never traveled with them and instead mainly was out scouring the galaxy, securing credits or supplies to bring back in order to ensure that his people still lived on. A burdon he tried to ease with each time he went out.

Not only was his clan stretched out but so were others and that made him yearn for the day his people could actually call a planet their home without any outside influence. While the question had triggered something inside the Mandalorian he didn't expect, only a couple of seconds passed before he answered casually and nonchalantly to keep the conversation moving and skip past it, "One that likes to eat, drink, and fuck like any other."

Nox picked up his mug at that and tilted it towards Morgan before tilting his helmet once more and downing the rest of it. "And just what are you?" It was just a plain and blunt question as he had nothing really to off of instead of Morgan's pretty-boy face. It conflicted with the whole hunting down a Mando and taking down a gang.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan grinned over at the Mandalorian, idle fingers tip-tapping across the tabletop while he took another drink of the local brew. The impression the Firrerreo gave Wolf, with the way acted and chose to dress, wasn't exactly uncommon. He was also difficult to properly offend and his general air of self-confidence didn't waver. It helped that the other man's guess was only half wrong.

"My teacher would say 'combative'," he offered up in reply.

For a little while the other man seemed deeper in thought than Morgan had expected over the question of name. Watching the other man's face was just a little pointless so his eyes turned back to the window instead to catch the random passers-by milling through the street. There weren't all that many, but it was interesting to see the sorts of individuals who went through this way. Something told Morgan it wasn't the most common path for law-abiding citizens.

Goldens swung lazily back once an answer was voiced and Wolf was fixed with furrow-browed look of mild disappointment. It was technically an answer but not as telling as the Sith would like. As for what Morgan was, well. He rapped his nails in order from pinky to pointer, a sly little grin forming on his fine features. Most of his kind that went out into the galaxy didn't exactly look all that threatening from a surface perspective and Morgan in particular had a certain air to him that seemed to lend itself toward more friendly interaction.

"A tiger." But he was still a Sith from a warrior-heavy culture all the same. He'd say the look on the Mandalorian's face when they finally found the people they were looking for would be funny to see, but with the helmet those hopes were likely dashed. "Not the paper kind, either."

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

'Combative', Nox thought, a humorous scoff coming from underneath his helmet, followed by a smirk. It wasn't hard to imagine that for him surprisingly. Instead of foot-tapping on the ground, his arm was laid across the window sill they sat by, his hand closed in a fist as he tapped his armored knuckles against the metal frame.

His explanation seemed to work and get the conversation moving along as the Firerreon answered that he was a tiger. It wasn't the answer he was expecting but then again, there was always a surprise the galaxy couldn't wait to unfold and throw in someone's face. Nox gave him a nod after his addition, "That's good, I would hate for you to blow away in the wind when blasters started firing." While his answer was blowing it off slightly, he suspected there may be some truth to the words with how calmly he spoke it and was just sitting here across a Mandalorian.

Their mark still hadn't arrived at the store yet and before he did, Nox wanted to make his one condition known here before the heat of battle commenced and he lost his chance. "The Mandalorian, when we come across him, he's mine to deal with, mine only." Despite that one of his people was here and practically terrorizing the countryside, if he had to fall, he wanted it to be by his blade and not by some foreigner who was seeking to settle some motive unknown to him.

Nox then gestured with him by knocking his helmet up a little towards him, "I'm sure a tiger such as yourself can find other suitable prey."