Surprise!

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

surprise!

| ⬤ | ⬤ | ⬤ | ⬤ |

The smuggler stepped into a smokey dive bar and made his way to a booth in the back. He was exhausted. The Hutta strike had been terribly taxing and he needed a little R&R before he made his way to Al'doleem, to confront Leah. He sank into the soft vinyl booth satisfied sigh as he sank into the chair's welcoming embrace.

The tuckered scoundrel rested his head on his arms until the severdroid arrived. He ordered a double Dantooine Rye, neat. As he awaited his whiskey he leaned back in the seat resting his head on the back of the chair lazily, while pulling a ratty pack of Bantha Cigarettes from a pocket in his leather jacket. He slipped a smoke into his lip and lit up breathing deep. The Smuggler loved to hate this habit, but right now all he cared about was the relief washing over him.

Crix absentmindedly traced the small puckered scar on his right cheek, as he began to process everything that's happened to him since Kashyyyk. His mind found it's way back to Leah and he lingered in their adventure a moment before he forced himself on to the vision he'd had on the Wookies homeworld. He rubbed his temples as frustration settled behind his eyes in the form of a tension headache.

The droid returned placing his whiskey and a glass of water on the table. Crix thanked the droid and then threw back the shot ordering another before the droid could retreat. He picked up the glass of water and sipped at it. He was meeting Beau here for a drink, but the senior smuggler wouldn't mind if he pre-gamed a little. Crix could feel the force attempting to stir in his spirit, but as the droid set down the second shot, Crix extinguished the feeling with incoming inebriation. The familiar warmth of a buzz spread across his body and he sank a little lower into the booth, draping an arm across the seat back and languidly draping a leg over the top of the table. He could feel the stress of his eventual "Come to The Force" moment abate as the droid returned with a third double.

Crix didn't shoot the final shot, instead, he sipped it and finished his water. He was in the mood to get blackout, but he needed his buddy on the same level first. For a moment, Crix thought he saw someone he recognized, but he shook it off. In a galaxy of this size, there was no way he was going to run into someone he knew in a random bar on Dathomir.

@Sreeya

 

[Raz Solus]

The efforts on Dathomir were largely being led by an Ordo, and Raz had to put aside old differences. Her goal was to unite the houses, not to uphold old rivalries that kept her people divided. She had come to here to sniff around about exactly what the clan was doing and how it could help the Mandalorian people as a whole. This planet was obscure enough to where she decided a bold tactic and forego her armor. She was tired of being recognizable virtually anywhere nowadays, and she was more discreet outside of armor.

Regardless, she wasn’t the type to dress up. She was adorned in a tank top with a jacket atop it, along with some baggy pants and boots. Raz had two pistols on her and a beskad, but none of her explosives. It was a nice change to actually feel the air on her skin instead of being in armor nonstop. No one here would recognize her, the only real curious attribute the metallic hand that protruded from the end of her jacket sleeve.

Raz approached the bar, entirely unaware that someone she knew was in the vicinity. She took a seat and ordered herself a rather girly drink. It was something local and bright pink, even came with an umbrella. She grinned at it as the bartender slid it over, and she took a sip through the straw. Raz barely managed to spend five minutes in peace before a Zabrak took up the seat next to her, offering her a grin.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” He began. Raz had to fight to keep from groaning about that overly used line. Her metal fingers clicked rapidly against her glass, and she had to keep her cool. She tilted her head to look at him, taking another sip, “I’m beginning to remember why I’m never seen around here.”

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

The Smuggler reclined in his booth, surveying the crowed. He hadn't realized how long it'd been since he'd just sat in a cantina. Crix reveled in the moment as he took a deep draw on the vice still between his lips and blew the smoke into the space between him and the empty seat across from him. Beau was never on time. The Gunslinger ran at his own pace and it drove Crix, crazy. He sipped at his whiskey returning his attention to the crowd. He scanned the bar when he spotted a Zabrak trying his hardest to pick up a woman who was clearly out of his league.

Crix watched their exchange for a moment deciding to wait for the opportune moment to step in. A devious smile spread across his face as he slid out of the booth, throwing back that third shot for a little extra courage. Back when he and Raz worked together, they used to wingman for each other, and she always insisted he keep his left side forward. She never explained why, but it'd never failed him and Crix wasn't the type to question something that worked. For a brief moment, Leah crossed his mind.

Not in a million years there, ace. He chided himself as he casually sauntered up to the bar.

The Scoundrel eased up to the bar just to the right of the woman. He didn't say anything to her, but he was close enough for her to notice him. With the Zabrak on her left, he was in perfect position. He raised his left hand getting the sever's attention and said, "I'll have a Double Dantooine, neat."

He glanced toward her drink and cocked an interested brow. He didn't take her for the Cosmo type, but then again he couldn't really get a good look at her face from his periphery. The Smuggler looked to the Zabrak and gave him a friendly nod and a smile. Then, he slid in on the woman's right, taking the seat next to her. Honestly, The Scoundrel wasn't on some gross conquest, he could tell the horn head wasn't her type and was looking to make a friend. The bartender slid the whiskey to Crix and the smuggler caught the drink while turning toward...

Ghost.

A broad smile spread across his face, and without missing a beat he said, "I feel like I'm seeing a Ghost."

Waiting for her to realize he wasn't some creepy newcomer he pulled out his pack of shitty cigarettes and tossed the pack onto the counter. What were the odds? He was starting to think they were chained together by fate, and even though he hated anything predetermined, Crix was perfectly fine being stuck with Raz. His smile widened as he looked toward her drink.

"Really a cosmo?" He teased.

@Sreeya

 

[Raz Solus]

Raz was about to start throwing punches when someone else slid into the seat next to her. She thought for sure it was another obnoxious man here to play the ‘hero’ and in turn expect her to pay attention to him instead. That was when she heard a familiar voice, her eyes widening as she looked at him, “How the hell do you turn up everywhere? I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me,” She shook her head, drinking from her drink again. As he judged her for her choice of alcohol, she quirked an eyebrow.

“This is called a barbie, actually,” She corrected him, “And yes, I don’t feel like being the tough chick all the time,” Raz looked around behind him, “There’s no one else with you, is there?” She tapped her finger on the glass, looking down at her drink for a moment, “You are one of two non-Mandos that have seen my face and I’d like to keep it that way,” It was a hard thing for her to admit, but it was true. At this point, Crix had become one of her oldest friends. It was a bizarre relationship, but she was glad for him. Of course, he didn’t need to know that.

Raz took another sip, looking back at him, “Sometimes I don’t feel like being my armor, ya know? I forget what it’s like to feel the air on my skin or even smell the stench of cheap men’s sprays and colognes,” She chuckled, the Zabrak now awkwardly shuffling away. Raz reached for one of the cigarettes, lighting one for herself and taking a drag, “Ugh, why do you still have this trash? I know you’re pulling in enough credits to do better.”

The smoke plumed out of her nostrils, “What’re you doing here?”

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

“How the hell do you turn up everywhere? I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me,” Crix laughed through pinched lips as he lit his cigarette. He tossed his durasteel Zip lighter onto the counter as well in case Raz wanted to partake in his terrible habit.

In response, he quipped, "Well, you just don't write me like you used to darlin'." He flashed her a wounded lover pout but couldn't keep it up, reverting to his easy smile.

Crix turned his attention to her and listened as she spoke. It was nice to see her out of her armor. Honestly, his initial memory of her is in that awesome armor. He'd forgotten how pretty she was. He then remembered her blasting rodent's to bits in the sewer of Taris and laughed to himself a little. "I know exactly how you feel sister." He gave her a little wink and sipped his Barbie.

It.

Was.

Amazing.

"Huh, ya know, I'm actually kinda honored." He said savoring his drink. Her alias was Ghost, so Crix had always considered her trust in him an extreme honor, but to know he was one of a very few was, well, it was a true sign of the trust she'd put in him and he hoped to honor it till his dying breath. His datapad vibrated and he pulled it from inside his jacket. A message from Beau scrolled across the screen.

Sorry kid, trouble on Tatt. Gonna need to catch you next time.

-Beau

"Nope, just grabbing a drink by my lonesome." He said sliding the datapad back into his jacket. The Smuggler nodded, with a new understanding of the annoyance. He hated having to wear armor as much as he did Crix couldn't imagine how she felt.

"Hey, I don't miss it. It's nice to see you in the flesh." He said taking a drag on his cigarette, blowing it out and giving her a warm smile. Now, it was his turn to defend his vice as Raz made fun of his crappy smokes.

"Addictions aren't supposed to taste good, " He joked. Joining her in another drag. Crix ashed his vice and sipped his drink as Raz asked why he was here. The Smuggler shrugged and replied, "I just got stood up, but I was meeting up with an old contact." He chuckled adding, "Now, I'm just annoying you!" He looked around her with a sympathetic grin at the wounded Zabrak. "Unless I'm interrupting something?"

The Smuggler laughed toasting the other dude with his Barbie. Then returning his attention to Raz, he asked, "What brings you around here?"

As he listened to her, he realized how long it'd been since their last adventure. He smiled inwardly wondering how much of the galaxy she'd taken control of.

"I've gotta know, are you-- uh, Mandolord, yet?" He asked with a sly smirk.

@Sreeya