Malastare was a kriffing nightmare.
Arctus expected nothing but questionable peace and quiet when he arrived in that starsforsaken planet. Meeting new compatriots – namely Mallister Keynion and Ulysses Reed – had been quite a blast, no matter how brief their conversation have been, the amiable air he had given the two greatly marred by the Black Parade Squad's presence in the doom and gloom Malastare alrready possessed. He could still remember how those two goons watched the three smugglers like a pair of leering Nexu, their creepy staring ended by the bolts from one of his blaster pistols. But the henchmen were nothing compared to the man and the small woman, the latter Arctus believed to be the 'Mother' the two thugs referred to in their slip up. There was something about those individuals that made his intuition scream on high alert, warning him of danger, danger, you wouldn't want to be crossing paths with Gold Eyes One and Two over there–
The smuggler could still feel their red-gold gazes sticking to his very being like a disgusting oil slick, his throat constricting at the string of what if's that bothered him ever since he left the planet. He had followed the Dark Side of the Force his intuition's guidance to go after them, the insidious and perverted voice of his savior promising him freedom in exchange of confronting the strangers. But fear came stronger than the seduction of being liberated from whatever the hell he needed freeing from, and the sight of dead bodies were more than enough to send Arctus running back where he came from.
Suffice to say, the experience not only left a strong bitter taste on Arctus' tongue but he had also permanently removed Malastare from the list of his (questionably) favorite go-to places to relax on.
The Cyar'ika landed smoothly on one of the many spaceports offered by his homeworld to travellers from near and far. Armed with a pair of DL-18 Blaster Pistols hanging on either side of his hips and a trusty vibroblade tucked into his right boot, Arctus wearily made his way out of the port and into the nearest bar he could find. The urge to find a spice dealer came at him something fierce, but the smuggler managed to be steadfast to his vow to never delve back into substance abuse. What would his Mando savior say?
He hadn't seen her since that fateful meeting on Tatooine, but he won't break his quiet promise to her. Not if he could help it, that is.
And perhaps he ought to give his folks a visit. It had been quite a while since he last saw his Ma and little brothers. He missed them, terribly, but it wouldn't do him well to show up on their doorstep looking as if Death had spooked him just for the shits and giggles.
The Snoozing Krayt was, surprisingly, not packed with people and beings of all shapes and sizes. The last time he checked, it was a pretty popular place for a hole in a wall dive bar. But Arctus wouldn't complain – as shaken as he was still from his trip to Malastare, he appreciated the sudden quiet the dive offered.
Arctus made a beeline for the bar, exchanging nods and half-hearted greetings and grins to any familiar faces. The bartender, a female Togruta, shot the smuggler a surprised look as the latter slid onto one of the stools lining the bar.
"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite human," she greeted him peppily, a wide smile adorning her pretty face. "What can I get you, Arc? Fancy something new? I have Iridonian whiskey back in stock."
Returning her smile with a weary one, Arctus managed to mutter a quiet, "Iridonian whiskey it is, then. Good to see you're doing great, Saahnaa."
Saahnaa blinked, perplexed at his lack of cheer. The smuggler could understand – he would always flirt with her in an attempt to get under her short skirt, regardless of her always turning him down with unnerving politeness.
"Not very chipper tonight, are we?" she observed as she poured him his drink. "Giving up on your quest to get me to your ship's bed?"
Arctus supplied her with a tiny grin before shrugging. "Gonna pass on that tonight, sweetheart. Just have a lot to think about."
Used to handling problematic idiots coming to her bar to drink their troubles away, Saahnaa offered the smuggler a shrug before giving his cheek a light pat. "I'll leave you to your thinking, then. And here's the bottle. I have a feeling you have a lot on your plate right now."
With that, Arctus was left nursing his glass of whiskey, his mind delving back to Malastare. He was grateful for Saahnaa's attention turning elsewhere because she was right.
He did have a lot on his plate right now.
In all his years of relying on his intuition to save his arse from dangerous situations, never had he felt it as strongly as he did back in Malastare. It felt as if someone was speaking to him in words he couldn't understand – like a drowning man who struggled to hear his savior's garbled words through the water surrounding him. His intuition had warned him of danger, but it also gave him subtle nudges to approach, to find out what two dodgy and dark individuals were up to. Out of the planet and away from danger, Arctus had wracked his brain to remember the words being spoken to him but could not understand. He reached into his mind and heard nothing but the death screams of the slaughtered people he saw in Malastare. How could he hear something he had not heard, something he wasn't even imagining? Was he that messed up in the head to be hearing screams and words that weren't his own, weren't the product of his imagination?
Arctus rubbed his face with one hand, frowning as he moved to tip the glass of whiskey to his lips.
The Force surged within him, a turmoil of emotions and the desire to just comprehend what it was. He was, once again, projecting his feelings of confusion and latent sensitivity to the Force.
The smuggler was, to put things simply, out of his depth.
@Shax
Arctus expected nothing but questionable peace and quiet when he arrived in that starsforsaken planet. Meeting new compatriots – namely Mallister Keynion and Ulysses Reed – had been quite a blast, no matter how brief their conversation have been, the amiable air he had given the two greatly marred by the Black Parade Squad's presence in the doom and gloom Malastare alrready possessed. He could still remember how those two goons watched the three smugglers like a pair of leering Nexu, their creepy staring ended by the bolts from one of his blaster pistols. But the henchmen were nothing compared to the man and the small woman, the latter Arctus believed to be the 'Mother' the two thugs referred to in their slip up. There was something about those individuals that made his intuition scream on high alert, warning him of danger, danger, you wouldn't want to be crossing paths with Gold Eyes One and Two over there–
The smuggler could still feel their red-gold gazes sticking to his very being like a disgusting oil slick, his throat constricting at the string of what if's that bothered him ever since he left the planet. He had followed the Dark Side of the Force his intuition's guidance to go after them, the insidious and perverted voice of his savior promising him freedom in exchange of confronting the strangers. But fear came stronger than the seduction of being liberated from whatever the hell he needed freeing from, and the sight of dead bodies were more than enough to send Arctus running back where he came from.
Suffice to say, the experience not only left a strong bitter taste on Arctus' tongue but he had also permanently removed Malastare from the list of his (questionably) favorite go-to places to relax on.
The Cyar'ika landed smoothly on one of the many spaceports offered by his homeworld to travellers from near and far. Armed with a pair of DL-18 Blaster Pistols hanging on either side of his hips and a trusty vibroblade tucked into his right boot, Arctus wearily made his way out of the port and into the nearest bar he could find. The urge to find a spice dealer came at him something fierce, but the smuggler managed to be steadfast to his vow to never delve back into substance abuse. What would his Mando savior say?
He hadn't seen her since that fateful meeting on Tatooine, but he won't break his quiet promise to her. Not if he could help it, that is.
And perhaps he ought to give his folks a visit. It had been quite a while since he last saw his Ma and little brothers. He missed them, terribly, but it wouldn't do him well to show up on their doorstep looking as if Death had spooked him just for the shits and giggles.
The Snoozing Krayt was, surprisingly, not packed with people and beings of all shapes and sizes. The last time he checked, it was a pretty popular place for a hole in a wall dive bar. But Arctus wouldn't complain – as shaken as he was still from his trip to Malastare, he appreciated the sudden quiet the dive offered.
Arctus made a beeline for the bar, exchanging nods and half-hearted greetings and grins to any familiar faces. The bartender, a female Togruta, shot the smuggler a surprised look as the latter slid onto one of the stools lining the bar.
"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite human," she greeted him peppily, a wide smile adorning her pretty face. "What can I get you, Arc? Fancy something new? I have Iridonian whiskey back in stock."
Returning her smile with a weary one, Arctus managed to mutter a quiet, "Iridonian whiskey it is, then. Good to see you're doing great, Saahnaa."
Saahnaa blinked, perplexed at his lack of cheer. The smuggler could understand – he would always flirt with her in an attempt to get under her short skirt, regardless of her always turning him down with unnerving politeness.
"Not very chipper tonight, are we?" she observed as she poured him his drink. "Giving up on your quest to get me to your ship's bed?"
Arctus supplied her with a tiny grin before shrugging. "Gonna pass on that tonight, sweetheart. Just have a lot to think about."
Used to handling problematic idiots coming to her bar to drink their troubles away, Saahnaa offered the smuggler a shrug before giving his cheek a light pat. "I'll leave you to your thinking, then. And here's the bottle. I have a feeling you have a lot on your plate right now."
With that, Arctus was left nursing his glass of whiskey, his mind delving back to Malastare. He was grateful for Saahnaa's attention turning elsewhere because she was right.
He did have a lot on his plate right now.
In all his years of relying on his intuition to save his arse from dangerous situations, never had he felt it as strongly as he did back in Malastare. It felt as if someone was speaking to him in words he couldn't understand – like a drowning man who struggled to hear his savior's garbled words through the water surrounding him. His intuition had warned him of danger, but it also gave him subtle nudges to approach, to find out what two dodgy and dark individuals were up to. Out of the planet and away from danger, Arctus had wracked his brain to remember the words being spoken to him but could not understand. He reached into his mind and heard nothing but the death screams of the slaughtered people he saw in Malastare. How could he hear something he had not heard, something he wasn't even imagining? Was he that messed up in the head to be hearing screams and words that weren't his own, weren't the product of his imagination?
Arctus rubbed his face with one hand, frowning as he moved to tip the glass of whiskey to his lips.
The Force surged within him, a turmoil of emotions and the desire to just comprehend what it was. He was, once again, projecting his feelings of confusion and latent sensitivity to the Force.
The smuggler was, to put things simply, out of his depth.
@Shax
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