- Joined
- Nov 26, 2019
- Messages
- 44
- Reaction score
- 17
Mon Gazza
Eoto hated planets like this. Barren, rocky and completely inhospitable. The bounty hunter needed to keep his helmet on just to be able to see through the red dust storm. He always felt the need to look over his shoulder every ten seconds on worlds like these to make sure he wasn't about to be waylaid by some random thug or bandit. But then these were exactly the kind of places work brought him.
His quarry hadn't made things particularly difficult. Terrat had been spending credits left and right on every planet he visited since fleeing Falleen. Lately he had fallen into the habit of betting on swoop races on Mon Gazza. He'd have to make another big score soon to keep up with such a lifestyle. Not that he'd get the opportunity.
Eoto stepped into the Racer's Den, finally getting a reprieve from the horrid weather. The cantina was alive with music and conversation, packed with swoop gangsters, mercenaries and all the other scum that inhabit such places. Thankfully his small stature helped him to keep a low profile, not drawing much attention to himself as his helmet folded back and he began moving casually through the building. His eyes scanned over each and every patron until they fell upon his target, the Devaronian. Terrat was enjoying the benefits of his ill-begotten gains, lounging on a luxurious couch in a cordoned off section of the cantina, surrounding himself with alcohol, drugs, and attractive women of various species. He was surrounded by swoop gangsters too. Armed swoop gangsters. Terrat was good at making friends it seemed.
Still keeping his quarry in the corner of his eye Eoto turned and slowly made his way to the bar. He sat down and ordered a drink, watching the Devaronian subtly as he began coming up with a plan of attack. He'd need to separate Terrat from his entourage. And he'd prefer to do it without causing an enormous scene. He could always just wait and follow the criminal, learn his schedule and habits. But the Falleen princes had placed a substantial bounty on Terrat's head, and he didn't want to risk someone else stealing his mark. What to do...
His quarry hadn't made things particularly difficult. Terrat had been spending credits left and right on every planet he visited since fleeing Falleen. Lately he had fallen into the habit of betting on swoop races on Mon Gazza. He'd have to make another big score soon to keep up with such a lifestyle. Not that he'd get the opportunity.
Eoto stepped into the Racer's Den, finally getting a reprieve from the horrid weather. The cantina was alive with music and conversation, packed with swoop gangsters, mercenaries and all the other scum that inhabit such places. Thankfully his small stature helped him to keep a low profile, not drawing much attention to himself as his helmet folded back and he began moving casually through the building. His eyes scanned over each and every patron until they fell upon his target, the Devaronian. Terrat was enjoying the benefits of his ill-begotten gains, lounging on a luxurious couch in a cordoned off section of the cantina, surrounding himself with alcohol, drugs, and attractive women of various species. He was surrounded by swoop gangsters too. Armed swoop gangsters. Terrat was good at making friends it seemed.
Still keeping his quarry in the corner of his eye Eoto turned and slowly made his way to the bar. He sat down and ordered a drink, watching the Devaronian subtly as he began coming up with a plan of attack. He'd need to separate Terrat from his entourage. And he'd prefer to do it without causing an enormous scene. He could always just wait and follow the criminal, learn his schedule and habits. But the Falleen princes had placed a substantial bounty on Terrat's head, and he didn't want to risk someone else stealing his mark. What to do...