A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
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Just Another Blue Milk Run
A Star Wars Legends RP
A shadow has fallen across the galaxy. For sixteen years, the
GALACTIC EMPIRE has ruled trillions of beings with an iron fist.
Resistance movements have formed, fought, and failed, as the
Empire continues to consolidate its grasp on power.
Through the efforts of the INQUISITORIUS, the Empire's most
deadly enforcers, the Jedi Order, guardians of the old Republic,
have been driven to virtual extinction. One by one, remaining
vestiges of the Republic are being swept away.
In this atmosphere of oppression, some scattered bright spots
of relative freedom remain, though even there the Empire's
spies are always present. On one of these, NAR SHADDAA, a
small group of unlikely heroes congregates...
For a spaceport watering hole, the Cluster was very run down. Granted, this being Nar Shaddaa, this was pretty much par for the course. The main bar stank of alcohol and other intoxicants, and the noise level was a fairly typical dull roar. The patrons weren't much better; sentients from almost every line of work, legitimate or otherwise, milled about, nursing drinks and generally looking as shady as they behaved. It was into this den of thieves that Tien Thun walked, synthleather jacket gleaming, DL-18 blaster pistol displayed prominently on his hip. The Nikto bouncer grunted at him as he entered the establishment, his droid, Threebie, following close behind.
«Cantina + patrons = potentially dangerous // Tien = sure cantina safe?» Threebie whistled at Tien.
"Yes, Threebie," Tien replied, amused, "I'm sure the cantina is safe."
«Threebie = worried // Tien = worried too?» Threebie whistled again, clearly not satisfied.
"No, I'm not," Tien said, "Stop worrying so much. I've been here loads of times; you know that."
Threebie didn't respond, which Tien took to mean that she'd at least begrudgingly accepted his reassurances for the time being. Of course, the almost neurotic little droid was bound to start worrying again real soon. Smiling to himself at the eccentricities of his mechanical companion, Tien selected a recently vacated table, sat down, and waved over a battered old serving droid so as to order a Corellian ale. As he nursed his drink, he watched the crowd, picking out a couple of Humans who looked somehow out of the ordinary. Each appeared to be part of that hazily-defined underclass of hired guns, but at the same time there was something... different... about them. Tien couldn't quite put his finger on it.
No matter. Tien took another sip of ale and let his mind start to wander.