Open Tatooine Sand, it gets everywhere

[Chet Rublof]

Exile is tough. The few connections he had believed he was dead or, worse, suspected him of murder - no, returning to Cardia was not an option available to him. At least for the foreseeable future.

Quite why he had ended up on this godforsaken dust bowl of a planet he was unsure. Chet hated sand. Always had. Even as a child on trips to the beach with school he would meticulously clean every grain from his feet, his clothing and his toys before going home, only to spend the next month finding it everywhere anyway. It was the spice runner from whom he'd acquired his ship that had suggested that Tatooine was as good a place as any to ply his trade as an assassin. Even at the height of the Republic and the Empire Tatooine had remained lawless - well, lawless in the sense that it made and kept its own laws. Those of a criminal persuasion had flourished for millennia.

Walking through the space port, a mix of junk dealers, repair shops and bars he settled on a small establishment accessed through the back of a (stolen) droid merchant that he happened upon entirely by chance. Seating himself by what he assumed to be a window, though apparently three centuries of grease, grime and general muck left it defunct in its purpose of allowing those outside, or inside to see through it. Perhaps that was the point.

A protocol droid - probably from the shop below took his drink order. Water.

He sat, the cowl of his hood slightly obscuring his face - waiting, watching, listening.




OOC: Will probably self DM something here, but if anyone wants to jump in, just shout.

 

[Larana Basai]

It wasn't often that Larana was allowed to leave the confines of the Jedi Temple on Ajan Kloss; the place sometimes felt like an inescapable island. Her Master, Lucia Ris, had determined that she wasn't entirely ready to traverse the stars on her own, but had allowed her this simple entitlement so that she might return home to her brother Hiram. It was the first she had traveled to see him since she had made her departure a few years prior, promising that she would return to deliver him unto the Jedi Order. It was time to reunite and deliver upon her promises, but first she needed to make it there in one piece which seemed an almost impossible feat.

It was unsurprising that, amidst her travels, she found herself upon the desert planet of Tatooine. The passage she had secured to her home on Andara was cheap and required multiple stops, many of which seemed to take her farther away from her destination and left her stranded for days at a time. This stop, in particular, had been the hardest to endure as the seas of sand offered little in the way of shelter from the heat of its unforgiving suns. On this particular day, Larana found herself wandering the over-crowded space port in hopes of passing the time until her next shuttle departed for the inner rim.

Wading her way through the crowds, she found the entrance to what looked to be a small cantina hidden behind one of the droid merchants. It seemed quiet enough that she wasn't worried about running into too much trouble, but still made the effort to seat herself in an isolated corner. She sighed in relief at the opportunity to let her guard down, if only for a moment, and leaned back in to the booth with her belongings tucked in a bag under the table.

"Water, please." She gasped, feeling as though she had eaten a handful of sand her mouth was so dry. A minute longer under the suns and she might have shriveled into nothing.

 

[Chet Rublof]

The newcomer caught his attention as she walked in, another order of water seemed to perplex the droid, if droids could indeed express such emotions. It seemed that hydration was not normally top of the list for patrons of this particular establishment. Her robes in particular caught his attention - not a common sites in these parts - and her selection of another isolated booth, distant from the other patrons also peaked his interest.

Chet beckoned the serving protocol droid over.

"Get many Jedi in these parts?"

He said it loud enough that the newcomer would hear, if she was listening.

"I am not quite sure what you mean sir. Can I perhaps service you with another drink? Perhaps something more relaxing and expensive?"

"Just water is fine."

 

[Larana Basai]

Larana had done her best to conceal her appearance, but it wasn't too unrealistic to assume that someone, at some point, would have figured it out. Still, she would have hoped to have made it farther than Tatooine before it happened, and suddenly felt rather foolish for having let her guard down even for a second. She sunk lower into her seat, holding her glass of water awkwardly with both of her hands, and tried her best to pretend that she wasn't there. Perhaps, she wasn't as good at being a nobody as she had assumed and wondered now if it would have been smarter to have brought Kalen with her in case she found herself in trouble.

Her attention was drawn to the other side of the room now, where an older man sat alone in another booth. His had asked his question loud enough that she might be able to hear him; he knew that she was a Jedi, but how? It wasn't as though she hadn't kept the hilt of her lightsaber hidden beneath her robes or wore any badges upon her chest that indicated her affiliations with the Jedi Order. Larana had even chosen her attire carefully so that she wouldn't be too easily identifiable. She didn't want any trouble, but maybe it had found her?

"Force forsaken," Larana mumbled beneath her breath, taking a sip of her water.

 

[Chet Rublof]

He had to give her credit. She was a cool customer. She hadn't flinched. Or maybe he was wrong, maybe those robes were a more common site than he thought. He hadn't ever knowingly come across a jedi... or any force user for that matter. He would have to be careful. This was, perhaps, an opportunity.

Standing, slowly, ensuring his rifle was visibly slung over his shoulder, reachable should he need but not to be perceived as an active threat he made his way to the bar, collecting another glass of water. Standing for a moment, a small group of Rodians talking in their native tongue between him and the newcomer, he weighed his options.

"What's the worse that can happen Do..Chet?"

Kicking himself for the momentary lapse in concentration he eased his way past the Rodians, ignoring the shoulder left in his path leading to a small spillage of his water. Making a note of the responsible individual he carried on past the group. Chet was not keen for trouble in this bar. He required work, and besides, he was no bar fighter. He did his killing from distance, with plans, meticulous plans, not spontaneous scraps.

He approached the booth, his hands at his side.

"You ought to be more careful."

 

[Larana Basai]

Larana noticed the man from the other side of the bar stand from his seat and begin to close the distance between them. Unsure of his intentions, she slid her belongings closer to her beneath the table in case she needed to make a quick escape. She was in no way trained for public confrontation, but couldn't see any other reason he would have so blatantly pointed out that she was a Jedi, or how he had known in the first place. It was possible that he was a member of the Five Syndicates, looking to collect her for a handsome bounty. It never mattered the time or place, any criminal would pay well for one less force-user in the world, especially if that force-user aligned themselves with the Jedi Order.

Cursing beneath her breath, she looked up to make eye contact with the man, heart racing in her chest though she kept a calm expression. Her hands cupped her glass of water a bit tighter though, probably out of apprehension for how this situation might turn out. He seemed much older and far stronger than she was and sure to have the support of most of the others who settled in the small cantina, if things decided to go south.

In an effort to avoid that though, she simply smiled and drew a deep breath. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, sir. I haven't come to cause any trouble. I am just on my way back home to care for my younger brother."

 

[Chet Rublof]

She seemed nervous.

Of course she's nervous you idiot. She's alone in a bar in on a planet like this and some old guys just started asking about Jedi.

He caught himself. Wait, can she read his mind? He realised his knowledge of the Jedi.. the sith.. whatever.. the force was lacking.

"I mean you no harm... though some in here might, if those robes are what I think they are. I'm just looking for work. Don't want to cause trouble in a place like this either."

He held his palms open, no weapons. His remote hovered closer to his ear. Annoying thing had a bit of a habit of getting too close. He made a mental note to look at it's programming that evening.

"Watch them."

He commanded the remote before waiting for a reply, he wanted to know if the group at the bar, now behind him made any movement his remote perceived as a threat.

 

[Larana Basai]

Larana kept a close eye on the newcomer, unsure of whether or not she could trust his word that he was not there to harm her. However, confrontation was not in her nature, whether it be physical or verbal, so she decided it best not to lie to him. Of course she looked like a Jedi, despite the manner in which she had dressed in an attempt to conceal her appearance; it was hard to hide in a place overrun by the Syndicates. There wasn't a criminal bone in her body, and the inexperienced way in which she carried herself would have told anyone that.

She huffed, unsure of how to respond. "If you are not here to cause me any harm, then why come to me in the first place?" There was a genuine curiosity in her tone, but still a bit of apprehension.

 

[Chet Rublof]

"Like I said, some here might and I am not looking for a fight this evening. If bar fights are your thing then be my guest."

He gestured over to the band of Rodians by the bar.

"Sure one of them would love to take you on."

He was genuinely intrigued. He had no doubt that at some point in his future the murder of a Jedi would be a necessity, conversation with one may give him some insights for his future. He was still unsure if she could read his mind or not. Thinking about assassinating Jedi probably not the best thing to think about if she could read his mind... he realised he probably had quite the puzzled expression on his face. Idiot.

"zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

The remote whirred in his ear, one of the Rodians from the bar was approaching.