Saloon Thread: Bar

[Black Noise]

An older, MC18 Light Freighter slowly pulled into the atmosphere of Zonju V. It appeared as if it's pilot were taking the most extreme precautions as it approached a landing port and painstaking slowly moved to set down. Roughly three feet from the ground, all power cut and the freighter hit the ground with a heavy thud. Inside, sitting on a ratty co-pilot's chair, Matayn cursed and yelled at a dirty, dented astromech droid who beeped loudly in a manner not unlike laughter.

Standing, the woman picked up two long, sheathed knives and strapped them to her waist. Exiting the ship, she called out a reminder to the astromech in an annoyed tone.
"Keep the ship in orbit and for god's sake don't hit anything!"
The armored woman left and snaked her way through the city, ignoring most she passed but taking well note of those who appeared armored and any building that seemed more than it was. Matayn was not one for sightseeing, the goal was in sight and she intended to reach it as soon as possible. As she walked, her annoyance fled and was replaced with a quiet, emotionless disposition. It was easiest for her to appear this way, better like this than getting emotional and irrational. Soon, she arrived at the Waste Ranger Saloon and slipped inside.

Once inside, Matayn stopped and slowly read the Code of the Ranger hanging on the wall. Reading it twice, Matayn smiled softly to herself for but a moment before dropping back to her previous disposition. Making her way through the small crowd of Rangers and towards where her cybernetic eye caught Hiro. The other eye, a cybernetic heat sensor connected to her good eye that allowed her to see in heat as well as normal vision at any time. She was still blind in that eye, and because of that she still wore an eyepatch over it, but that did not matter to her much.

Approaching Hiro, and giving nod to the man by him, Matayn stretched out a hand and greeted him.
"Hey Hiro, long time since Nar Shaddaa."

 

[TAC]

But where was Seth Lankost?

It was one several questions yet to be asked, noting that several potential Waste Rangers had not yet arrived prior to Hiro's speech. A tall, dark, handsome man went through the proper security measures as Hiro- in his very distinct way- began his speech. The opening door went quite unnoticed, as all attention was turned to Hiro, as would the attention of this new comer. He stood behind what would become his new compatriots, listening, but quickly excused himself to a seat so as to not be distracting.

There was some semblance of agreement as the droid presented the new Waste Rangers with their new outfits. Outfits were an interesting these, although these were uniforms- a form of identification for the group that they were about to become. A small met the Ranger's lips as he sat in the back, watching the festivities. Identity. Such an interesting concept.

In the last several years the legend of Seth Lankost had come to people's ears throughout the galaxy. It was just another name in a galaxy of trillions, to be sure, but for certain groups of people it had become more than that. Hiro was one of those people that had an appreciation for the name. Many others here, as well, may know it. But on the other side of these heroes were groves of individuals that had learned to fear it. Weapon Smugglers, Slavers, Bounty Hunters, general riff raff and vagabonds all around had learned than Lankost was not the name of a friendly face.

Even the Sith had grown an appreciation for the name as a target himself. And the Hutts. Boy, wherever they Hutts turned they were reminded that the Sith weren't the only threat to their mass amount of wealth and influence.

And yet, for all of this, only the name had stuck. No one had been able to trace the life or story of this Seth Lankost. Some said he was a retired Corellian CorSec Officer out to bring justice to the galaxy with the same ruthlessness as he had on Corellia. Others claim the man is some sort of super-human genetic hybrid, with red skin and a bright flashing grin, hellbent on destroying the forces that had burnt his peaceful far down. The stories ranged from the most bizarre things, from ex-Jedi Master to disavowed renegade of the Ona'bak Retrade. Somewhere in the mix of all of that was the truth.

But for today, Seth Lankost was just a man.

A man sitting in the back of a bar.

 

[Ace of Hearts]

Zonju V? Such a place exists? Atlas mumbled to herself as she hopped off the transport that had brought her all the way out to the middle of nowhere. Why was she here? Oh, yeah, because the droid she had talked to ten years ago had sent her a message telling her to. Makes great sense, right? No, it didn't. Yet, here she was, looking for a place simply called The Saloon so she could figure out what this was about.

When she finally stumbled upon it, she found herself thrust into a room filled with people of all races and walks of life. Needless to say, she felt a bit out of her comfort zone. Sure she dealt with people on a daily basis, but among strangers in a strange place...she wasn't as comfortable. So Atlas did the logical thing; she sought out the one familiar face in the crowd. She looked for Hiro.

It wasn't hard to find him. She approached him nervously and sort of smiled, "Ten years ago we talked for less than an hour, yet you still manage to find me all this time later. So I guess I missed the party. What's this all about?"

She looked around and read the creed on the stage. "Rangers?" Her face contorted in confusion. Her brain began to put the pieces together. A desolate, unknown planet, and a bunch of people who have next to nothing in common except a droid named Hiro. What was he planning?

 

[Saul Perth]

"Well greetings master Hal, may I take your handsome looking duster? Was the journey harsh? Please have some pancakes I've made enough to feed a small army as instructed by Master Hiro,"

Hal traded his hat and coat with the droid for a steaming stack of flapjacks. "Thank ya kindly."

"Well howdy partner, glad you could make it under the notably strange circumstances, I'm Hiro the one who sent ya that message and-"

"-And I'm Ross, tell me partner where'd you pick up that piece there?"

Hal nodded Hiro, but quickly shifted his attention to Ross once he brought up his pistols. "These little fellas?" He laughed heartily before continuing, "I picked 'em up back on Tatooine, must be going on twenty years ago. Had 'em damn near all my life, and they ain't ever let me down." Over the years Hal had proven himself a good judge of people, and Ross was definitely good people. In fact, everyone in this Saloon seemed like good people. Rough, but good. Hal offered his pistol to Ross for inspection, a huge sign of trust for people like them. "Got a bit of a kick to it, but goddamn if it wouldn't put down any Trandoshan you've ever seen, no matter how ugly."

By the time his attention returned to Hiro, the droid had already moved on. Ah, well, I'll catch him on the next lap around.

 

[Chairdor]

Vince took Ordon's tip with a smirk as people continued to shuffle in. There seemed to be a compulsion in each and everyone to either make a beeline for the bar, seek out Hiro, hide, or weirdly enough all three. The fellow who approached the bar with a wild look on his face demanding to know where Hiro was somewhat broke the mould on the barkeeps presumptions, but he figured the guy might be sore since he missed the big metal letter reveal. Looking at those big honking words caused Vince to chuckle slightly, yeah that's exactly what we should be using our metal on, making big honking signs, not fixing the speeder bikes or the heater, or whatever in the hell was wrong with 'Clunky' honestly Vince thought it was a lack of confidence in the little guy, I mean if you name your kid 'Stupid' it's an uphill battle, that and that crazy brain the droid had, but that's besides the point.

Vince pointed to the ever present cowboy droid and went back to fixing drinks with a steady chain of "Comin your way" said each and every time he drifted another delectable drink down the bar. As they slid and he poured the barkeep wiped his brow, it was the first time he had felt tired in quite some time, he couldn't say he'd like to feel it all the time, but it certainly beat being bored.

Ross, now quite finished handing out uniforms shifted the task to Alfred who swiftly bopped about declaring apologies as he bumped around the tables with his unwieldy metal legs. As the old man moved about he spotted a familiar face and grinned, sitting down by Rowe Scarret, the Rowdiest man he had ever had the pleasure of getting caught in an alley fight with, Ross tapped the table and declared, "Well if you ain't a sight fore sore eyes then I need glasses, how ya been pardner? Gettin in plenty a trouble I can only hope,"

Hiro found himself quite encircled by the continuing stream of comers, both familiar and merely studied and determined to be good candidates for the organization. It was nearly overwhelming for the droid had he not had all four of his mental servos overclocking to handle the influx of information, names, dispositions, favorite colors, it was quite a lot to take in, but the droid was more than prepared, he'd been preparing for years now after all. Taking the hand of the man who called himself Rancor and certainly looked the part with his towering frame, Hiro laughed at the biting jabs of his interesting pet,

"Ah Ordan it's a pleasure to meet ya at last, I can only hope your enjoying yourself here, I don't know exactly what that feller is, but talk to Alfred I'm sure he can whip it up some grub so it aint so bitey,"

Hiro was preparing to give more greetings when he spied what he thought to be a familiar sight, this was confirmed when she extended her hand to the droid and issued a happy and reminding greeting. Smiling underneath his gas mask the droid took her hand gingerly, warming his hand as he had done ten years ago,

"My goodness Matayn you have grown,"

Hiro had sent the message to the young woman as a long shot, last he saw her she was adrift choosing her own path, he only hoped after gaining a glimpse of her profound sadness, she had found some joy on her ten year journey, if anything, perhaps Hiro could provide some stability for her, a home at last.

"I'm so glad ya could make it girl, and..well...man have you grown," the droid reiterated with a chuckle, he was about to think of something less stupid to say when a familiar albeit small voice interrupted him. Turning with a tip of his hat Hiro spoke with renewed gladness,

"Atlas, you told me a sad story and you ain't alone in them sad stories, that's why all of us are here, I'm offerin you and all these people a chance to bring happy ending to those stories and to prevent as many tragedies as possible, if you'll have us, you can be a Waste Ranger to spread justice to the galaxy, you get a free hat too" Hiro finished as he remembered his brief conversation with Hal, returning to the man he tipped his hat,

"Sorry chum, Ross can get a little uppity when it comes to classic guns, hope the setting is to your liking and-"

"Sir this is terrible!"

Hiro turned swiftly expecting some sort of impromptu gun duel to have started, instead he saw Alfred cradling a stack of pancakes,

"They're growing cold sir, so bloody cold,"

Applying his hand to his forehead the droid pressed deep then sprung back remembering that his guests were weary,

"Friends old and new, I hope you accept my offer to become a Ranger, but before we get into ceremony or any of that horse poodoo I'd reiterate that we have an open bar and if yall want to move your speeders into the garage Miss Scalia i'd be more than happy to fix em, also if yall are gettin tired theres some unoccupied beds up stairs in the lift thataway,"

 

[jp5125]

Axel grinned and stretched his arms over his head. He had finally landed on zonju V. Axel finished his over exaggerated stretch and flicked the engine switch off, and his old beat up freighter shuttered as the engines turned off. He had landed in a small public space port, so as soon as he exited his small freighter, a multitude of aliens came running up to him offering him services. A tossed a few credits towards a group of jawas who immediately ran over to his ship and began refueling it. Axel than approached a customs terminal and rented the small hangar that he had landed in. Now that that was settled, Axel exited the spaceport. The hot dry air hit Axel in the face. He winced and stepped outside. The streets were filled with shady characters. Axel slid his hands to his sides instinctively to make sure his pistols were holstered. He grabbed the handles firmly, and than let go. He looked left and right, and than, almost like a ghost, Axel walked into the thick crowd and dissapered. He headed towards the waste ranger saloon.

After a while of walking, he finally saw the entrance for the saloon. He walked inside and saw a doorway. Axel approached the doorway and a scanner popped out of the wall and asked him to hold still while a search was conducted. He waited a few seconds until the scanner had completed, recognizing him as "Axel specter, the deadeye". The doors slid open revealing a large crowd of 30 or so people. Axel smiled as some of them turned around to look at him.

"Sorry I'm late, is this where I come to kick criminal ass?"

 

[Dóiteán]

Aramis put away the pistol and his toolkit. Standing up, he started walking towards the garage. He paused when he heard someone, Hiro he believed, say fix.

"Did someone say fix?", he said as he rubbed his hands together.

He loved fixing things. He was an engineer after all. He walked to the bar, instead, and asked for some water. He never drank, since it would hinder his work, and preferred to stay sober. Aramis had already grabbed the uniform and badge. He normally didn't wear stuff like that but he wasn't going to be a stickler about it.

 

[Cisco]

The wind roared about on the dead planes that were Zonju V, dead of life as they carried bits of dirt and sand rather rather than the leaves and seeds from trees and flowers to spread life. All there was was death and decay, a fitting place for a man with so little life left in himself. It was on a mountain though that he stood leaned with a bike to his back, watching the world below kilometers away a hundreds of meters below; And that world you may ask, Sathad'Ra, The City of Bones. It was perhaps a place slightly less hellish than the wastes that surrounded it, perhaps more so if you considered the wastes didn't shoot people. Whatever the reason though, Shaitan had been called there, an eighty-seven year old man who had for the past few decades spent most his time on the far fringes of known space, yet called with not so much an idea as to a reason why.

Ruffling through his dusters pocket he produced a silver, at least silver in what parts weren't rusted, case that contained a set of cigars and a series of matches, one of which he simply stuck inside his mouth, moments later he produced a match from said case, and merely struck it upon a rusted patch on the bike behind him, causing it to burst into a flame which he lit the cigar with. With a slight sigh he let out a sea of smoke he pulled out a black device from yet another pocket and peered into the screen, measuring perhaps six by six inches in size. On the monitor a top down view of the city itself was present, kindly recorded by an old and aging albeit tiny hexacopters that silently hovered many miles above. A singular bare thumb traced upon the screen, moving the camera around in kind and occasionally flicking off to the side to zoom in and out.

He could so much as see the specks of dirt on the faces of those who walked about the streets, yet nothing really seemed to catch his eye. It was true that that the occasional fight broke out, and also occasional was that someone brought out a gun, yet nothing seemed to so much as set off enough red flags as to encourage him to leave outright. With a click the device went dead, leaving the drone to fly hidden until called for, and was soon pocketed. Turning about he swung his leg over the side of the bike he was leant against, the massive revolver at his left thigh, the rifle strung over his back, and the Knife on his right each giving a distinct series of clinks as they jostled about, finally setting as he seated himself.

With a turn of the key in the ignition, and a flick of a switch the engine came to life, roaring with a fervour that a so called modern speeder couldn't hope to match. The analogue gauges and lights upon the dash also came to life, displaying their respective readings and values, all was working. With a simple smile he gave it a quick rev, the engine roaring once more as its rear tyre cut into the earth, kicking up a small cloud of dust behind him as he took off down the mountainside and towards the city itself. The Man, Woman, Whatever it was, named Hiro would soon be seeing him, and soon be answering questions.


----


The Ride itself had been uneventful as Shaitan coasted through the city gates, the odd looks of the occasional person whose conversations were drowned out by his passing, and those who were drawn by the simple curiosity of an ancient machine riding through the road. His own thoughts though were more towards this so called saloon than anything else, a man near the gate had given him some directions, albeit vague directions. This, and occasionally checks of his Hexacopters camera, eventually brought him to the other side of town and onto some closed streets, and eventually what he believed to be the saloon itself. Slowly his bike came to a halt in by the front of what was a seemingly barren hall.

He paused for a moment, leaving the bike to idle under him as he pulled out yet another cigar, and too lit that. WIth a turn of the key the engine shut off and with a flip of the kickstand his six-hundred pound iron stallion came to a slanted rest, silently awaiting its riders eventual return. After taking a few cursory glances down the hall itself he made his way down the corridor with cautious steps one at a time, a hand hovering around the gun on his left side. He came to a halt though, as a scanner popped out of the wall, taking a moment to calibrate itself before quite noticeably beginning a scan of him. After a moment of looking him up and down with a set of green beams, the scanner offered a single beep and retreated back into the wall with a camera replacing it.

Letting out a puff a smoke from his lips Shaitan simply levelled his eyes with the Camera itself and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Unlike the others before him who had simply been let in without a fuss, it seemed as though, for whatever reason, something was perhaps 'Off' in his scan, a partial match.

"Shaitan Smith." His voice echoed out towards the camera, not that it necesarily transmitted audio. After a few extra moments though, it seemed to relent, and with a beep the side door opened. Uncrossing his own arms, he proceeded inwards and into the saloon itself, where he found quite a number of people sitting, standing, walking around, and talking with one another. All people much younger than he himself. He took the moment he had to scan over the interior itself as he simply stood at the entrance. After a moment though he relented, simply taking a slow walk heading towards the far end of the room as he simply looked about, paying little mind to those who stood around him. Answers would come in time.

 

[Chairdor]

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely with the laughter, happy reunions and new friendships being forged in this weird coming together of oddities, sure there were a couple odd ducks taking up three of the four corners, but he figured he'd loosen em up by sending Alfred a few drinks their ways. Once that was done however, he realized something was up, noting something had changed, after blinking for a few seconds he finally figured it out, the music was out. Either the juke box was busted or it had ran out of songs again, in any case Vince didn't feel like messing with it especially since he had something else in mind.

Jumping over the bar and heading to the piano he called out to Alfred,

"You make the drinks," rushing to fill the musical gap before someone produced a harmonica or god help us some bagpipes, he began to play a familiar tune singing along with his own twist on the lyrics,

" The Zonju Rascals sing this song,
Doo-da, Doo-da
The Zonju swooptrack's five miles long
Oh, de doo-da day

Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my credits on a bob-tailed bug
Somebody bet on the grays

Oh, the long tailed Gobo and the big black nerf,
Doo-da, doo-da
Come to a mud hole and they all cut across,
Oh, de doo-da day"

Continuing the song with some Zeal he soon found Ross at his side belting out saltier lyrics leading to the barkeep messing up some keys as he laughed, but always getting right back on track.

As Hiro noted a few people lingering by the entrance he approached the younger man first,

"That it is partner, but only to the extent that they deserve it, free gun, duster and hat by the two idiots singing bawdy songs,"

Walking up to the imposing old man he nodded and said,

"Howdy pardner, I been waiting on you, Shaitan Smith right? I'm Hiro. You're probably wonderin why your here, well the reason is your expertise, you been a gunslinger and a fighter all your life and frankly I need the information, grit and gusto you got to help me start this thing right here,"

Pointing to the code of the ranger on the wall Hiro continued,

"Waste Rangers, were a group dedicated to protecting the weak and fightin the crooked, that's the condensed version anyhow, whaddya say? Least get a couple free drinks,"

With that Hiro looked over to see Alfred pouring a very expensive bottle of wine where he thought a glass was, sighing he added,

"Perhaps not now," before rushing off to stop the bot.

 

[Ace of Hearts]

Atlas nodded listlessly as she stared off at the bar. Liquid courage was just what the doctor ordered, the doctor being her to a degree. Sure, she had quit her job because they wouldn't give her the time off to come check this place out. Sure, she would be without work if she didn't stay here and join this rowdy gang. She huffed at the negative thoughts and sat down at the bar. Her foot was already keeping tune with the song as she ordered a shot of whiskey, "Shouldn't but I will." she added as an afterthought.

She swallowed it in one go without even a wince. The reasonable side of her listed all the nasty effects to her liver, which wasn't in the best of shape after a bout or two with alcoholism. She ignored it as the powerful liquor hit her blood stream. "Another if ya please."

She would only take two, just because she needed to be somewhat sober to deal with all this. If she had to be the pessimist at this party, she would. "And are the pancakes cold?"

She smiled goofily; cowboys eating pancakes, who would've thought it? It seemed kind of silly, but you never turn down free pancakes.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

What was he doing here again?

That was the question the old veteran smuggler, Nero Linaki, asked himself as he touched down in the Spaceport on the wayward world of Zonju V. Setting down his trusted ship, the heavily modified X4 Gunship known as the Black Flame, Nero got up from his seat in the cockpit and looked at the holomap he had on the dashboard. Of all the things going on in his life, it seemed that a message from a robot he helped some 10 years ago and barely remembered, calling him to this dusty hell-hole, was the strangest thing he heard all day, and had drawn him here to check it out.

Getting on into his 40's and having yet to find his daughter, Nero had become grumpy, mean, and cynical, leading him to focus more on smuggling than anything else lately. But something about the droid, he believed his name was Hiro, made him want to come here and inspect his vague invitation. Stepping off his ship and leaving the spaceport, Nero breathed in the rustic and dusty air Zonju had to offer, and disliked the world from the get-go. Recalling the location given on the message, which he had marked on a map, Nero started off down a street, if it could be called that, heading for the upper north corner of the city.

The road was very long, and if there was one thing Nero disliked, it was long, boring walks. Looking down the sides of the roads, there was nothing but vagrants leaning against walls, beggars doing what they do best, and groups of aliens chatting and looking at everyone else like they could kill them all right now. The riff-raff of the planet was no worse than what one might see on Tatooine or Nar Shaddaa, but irregardless Nero made sure his hand was close to his holster, a heavy blaster pistol tucked nicely within.

Coming to the center of the city, where a large road intersected the one he was on, Nero took a right and began walking down that road, and saw the same street-livers there as before. Soon enough, the vagrants disappeared and were replaced with market stalls and vendors, going about selling to customers everything from produce to medicine to armor, with hardly any presence of gang violence or anything. The hell-hole seemed to have a bright center. As he walked through the market center, some of the vendors tried to gain his attention and credits, but Nero only stopped once, flipping a credit to a young human girl in exchange for a nice looking fruit, which he took with his left hand and took a bite out of, enjoying the sweet taste of the fruit.

He then left the market place as he continued down the street, and noticed the vagrants returned, along with an armed, official-looking militiaman or two patrolling the streets. Raising an eyebrow at this, Nero presumed it to be the city's law enforcement or some other sort, either way it didn't concern him too much for the moment, so he let them pass. Continuing forward, Nero passed down a couple more streets until he arrived at a building, which was at the location Hiro specified.

Entering through the doors, he almost continued through the entrance to his side until a small, eyeball-looking droid popped through the wall and scanned Nero, before popping back into the wall and opening the doors in front of him. Stepping in, Nero saw several people drinking and conversing, something he didn't expect to see. He intended it to be only him and the droid, but it appeared he invited friends. Taking a final bite of the fruit before finishing it off, Nero spoke. "Anyone here happen to know a droid named Hiro?" He asked to no one in general.

 

[Raydo]

He had received a message saying that if he wanted to find Justice he should come Zonju V and was given coordinates to some bar or cantina. Aldrin sighed as his ship finished the landing process. This planet was a dump. There was more crime than dirt on this planet but he had been intrigued. He began climbing out of the cockpit after making sure he had both pistols clipped to his waist. He looked over this his droid as it gave off a series of beeps and groans. "Stay with the ship, and make sure no one tries to steal it." he gave a slight chuckle as he pulled on his hat and began walking to this bar. If it was anything like what he had seen so far he would not be here long.

After walking for a while he came the coordinates that he was given. It looked like bar from the outside, nothing to spectacular but if he had come this far the least he could do is get a drink. As he pushed the doors open he was surprised at the amount of people inside the bar. It was still kind of early and bars normally didn't get this full until later. "These are my type of people" he said to himself as he began to walk in.

He walked over to bar and sat down. It felt good to sit in something other than a ship cockpit. He had been out in space for to long and gone even longer with out a decent drink. He glanced around the room looking at the faces of the people around him, instinctively sizing up the room. When the bartender came to him all he said "Just give me something strong."

What could the message mean and how could this place help him find justice? Times were getting tougher in the galaxy. The Imperium let crooks run wild while cracking down on law abiding citizens until there breaking point. Something was going to have to give. Someone or Someones are going to need to restore law to the galaxy. This was a huge task that Aldrin half thought was impossible. A drink was sat down but he barely noticed it. A moment later he picked up and took a sip. "Now this is a good drink!"

 

[MasterTyvokka]

Renald had left the spaceport and felt a harsh wind blow the dust from the street into his face. The day was arm indeed and as Renald walked he looked around. The city wasn't much to see. There were boarded up buildings and the place had a creepy feel to it. Renald kept walking though and made sure to keep his eyes and hears open, not only for sounds that would let him know he was near the cantina he was looking for but also for any trouble.

It was a good thing he was because it wasn't long before he heard the wirl of swoop engines and after turning a corner and was immediately stopped dead in his tracks. A couple of swoop bikes stood in his way with their owners straddling their rides. One of the men stepped off his swoop, pulled out his blaster, and put out his hand to halt Renald. "This here is our street. If ya wana walk down it yer gona have to pay." Renald wasn't in the mood for a fight and he doubted whatever small some the thugs wanted was going to put a dint in his wallet. "How much is it going to cost me?" Renald calmly asked. The thug paused for a moment, a shocked look on his face. It was clear no one had out right asked how much the toll was. The thug was probably used to having to beat it out of his victim. "Uh, 100 credits then you can pass." Renald handed the man 100 credits and then pushed past him not looking back. The thug didn't stop him still shocked that someone actually gave up 100 credits without a fuss.

Renald didn't have far to go before he found the Saloon and walked in. He was surprised by the large number of people. Instead of mingling Renald walked up to an empty corner of the bar and hailed the bartender. "A Corellian Ale please" As Renald waited for the ale he looked around. He didn't think he knew anyone there and the only face he recognized, although barely given his state at the time, was the masked stranger. The same one who had told him about redemption and handed him the data chip that led him to Zonju V.

 

[Cisco]

As Shaitan wandered about the room he idly paid notice as a man off to the side got himself on the Piano, another man joining to sing with him soon after. His thoughts though were mostly drawn to the building itself, he had to ponder for a bit the reason as to why they were all there, after all it was quite a strange bunch of people when one considered even the security measures to enter the place. With a few more steps he continued to slowly further himself into the room, idly eyeing the roof, things on the walls, and occasionally a person. Off to the side of him though he couldn't help but notice as one particular person, a particular droid, approached a man who had seemingly entered the building not too long before and gave a short few words, before turning to Shaitan himself, and offering a slight nod.

"Howdy pardner, I been waiting on you, Shaitan Smith right? I'm Hiro. You're probably wonderin why your here, well the reason is your expertise, you been a gunslinger and a fighter all your life and frankly I need the information, grit and gusto you got to help me start this thing right here," The droid spoke to him, offering a gesture towards a plaque that hang on the wall. "Waste Rangers, we're a group dedicated to protecting the weak and fightin the crooked, that's the condensed version anyhow, whaddya say? Least get a couple free drinks, Perhaps not now." He droid finished, before rushing off towards the bar.

Giving a slight puff of smoke Shaitan removed the cigar from his mouth with one hand, and with the other grabbed a small metal cylindrical tin from within his duster, inserting the cigar within and closing it, smothering the cigar for eventual later use. Taking a few steps, the floor boards creeking slightly beneath his weight, Shaitan turned about and found himself standing in front of the plaque in question, Titled 'The Code Of the Ranger' Taking a few moments he read over the document. It was quite a Bold idea, crazy even. Not even for the ideal it was but the starting point the Droid had chosen right there on Zonju. 'Well I'm not quite sure I'm convinced yet, Hiro.' He merely thought to himself. 'We'll have to see where this goes.'

Turning back within the room he turned back towards the entrance, taking a few steps before pausing. Besides the main entrance there was another door beside it, that made three in the whole room. One was quite clearly the exit, the other went to what was evidently a small kitchen, the only other way to go was a door marked Garage. Taking a quick look behind him, he simply went to the door, and went on his dandy way through it.

 

[Jaime]

Harvey smiled as the Hiro finished his speech with the surprising result that the two children, one of them being his, that ran up wanting to be Ranger's too were not crushed under foot by harsh words. The droid didn't lack empathy, that's for sure. Harv sat up slowly, feeling a little dizzy from the Herb he had smoked earlier. He grabbed onto the table and steadied himself before heading over to Hiro.

He sighed lightly as the droid ran to stop the serving bot from spilling a drink. He walked all that way for nothing. He began walking again toward the wayward droid Waste Ranger patron. "You're Hiro, I assume? Nice little setup ya got here." After Hiro responded he gave no the robot no time to respond, "You got a place me and you can confer on something in private?" He glanced around, looking to Harmony. He then looked to the bartender and asked politely, "Excuse me, sir, but could you keep an eye on my daughter over there, make sure she gets into no trouble? She's a rambunctious one, that girl."

 

[T.J]

"Well darned if it ain't been Rook, how ya holding up all these years? Still in one piece? I can't say the same haha!"

Hiro's response was quick with a hint of genuine emotion even. Letting a laugh sneak past his lips Rook returned the gesture and padded the metallic man on the shoulder. It truly was good to see him again, even if it was over a job opportunity.

" Other than ah few extra holes I can't complain none. "

He wanted to speak more with the droid, swap stories about the previous ten years and reminisce about ventures past. Unfortunately it seemed as if he had been early to the party, being a gracious host meant attending to all guests equally he supposed. A good number followed in his wake, quickly filling the bar and surrounding area. Watching as Hiro walked off to greet more newcomers, Rook resigned himself to the bar. He thought it prudent to be quick about his seating selection. From what he saw as others entered, the bar seemed like a favored location. He wouldn't order a drink just yet, business was to be attended to first. A sober mind was always welcome when making business decisions, something Rook had picked up when he was still a young gun.

To his surprise a rather expensive looking gun was then dropped into his lap as if it here a piece of food or some type of trinket. Picking up the weapon his eyes carefully looked over its bronzium finish with barely contained delight. If there was anything Rook liked more than the drink it was firearms, especially ones he could use in a practical manner. He only nodded to the man who had given him the firearm in thanks before placing it in one of the less occupied pockets on his duster. His holster was only made for one gun, he would have to get another if he wished to wield his revolver and his newly acquired weapon. Turning on the bar stool he had chosen as his perch, Rook looked on as Hiro began his little presentation. What he had originally thought was a short business venture seemed to have turned into something far more.

" Well I'll be damned... "

He muttered under his breathe as a smirk slowly drew across his face. Just when it seemed like there was no way out of the rut his life had become, Hiro seemed to swoop in and give him another chance. Gently folding his newly acquired duster and placing the hat atop the folded garment, Rook spun back around to face the bar once again. Addressing the barkeep, of who's name he had yet to catch.

" S'cuse me pardner. The names Rook. "

Pausing briefly to extend a hand to shake the barkeeps.

" Was wonderin' if you'd happen to have any Mandalorian black ale. Don't ask me t' pronounce it in their tongue though. Prob'ly butcher the damned thing. I'm also lookin' fer ah Pepper Smith. Got any idea where she might be? "

 

[Chairdor]

Now truly the Saloon was alive with chatter, drinking, laughter, singing, pancake eating, and just enough confusion to warrant more conversation and good times. As the song came to an end Vince began to play another tune without well known lyrics leaving Ross to wander off and serve himself some more ale from various planets, Corelian was always the best, but like Corelians themselves they were hard to come by in Wild Space, so working his way down the line he found Naboo rum to be quite delicious, surprising as Naboo didn't have much of a pirate tradition, something the man saw as paramount to good rum production. Noting Alfred was having a pour time at the bar (get it), Ross began filling drink orders himself.

Making drinks was not nearly as fun as having drinks however he did find some fun when one of the Rangers asked him for something strong. Suppressing his grin he flexed his muscle and put it before the man,

"Strong enough for ya?" waiting for a few seconds he began to laugh and poured the sod some hard whiskey, "There yar" Noting the man was sipping good whiskey he shook his hide, "All at once or ya lose your drinking privileges," he said with a grin. he stopped teasing the newcomer when he noted another taker,

"Corelian Ale comin at ya," loathe to depart with such a rarity Ross let it go anyway as he figured he could put some of these fellers to work soon enough, if not earning credits he could at least send them on a beer run.

Finally one feller came up asking about Mandolorian Black, now that was a drink of champions,

"Hell boy you got strong taste," he said as he handed him a glass, then when he inquired about Pepper Smith, "Haha you got very strong taste my friend, shes in the garage over yonder"

As Hiro helped Alfred with the bottle, he heard someone ask for him,

"Well I bet I'm someone named Hiro, and I'll bet you're Nero, how ya holding up mate?"

He was going to converse further when Harvey approached with a request to speak somewhere private, gesturing to the kitchen he said simply,

"Step into my office good sir, Alfred mind watching the kid?"

"I will protect her with my every circuit sir,"

Hiro smiled, while the droid had some glitches he was better than most in the right places. Walking back into the kitchen, still filled with cooking pancakes, Hiro remembered someone asked about cold ones, taking the fresh ones he swiftly sent another heaping plate full down the bar,

"Order up..for...whoever!"

Once inside he turned to the man,

"What's on your plate pardner?"

 

[Jaime]

Harvey followed the droid into the kitchen, but first grabbed Alfred, whispering into his audio-receptor's "She gets hurt, your parts'll be on Raxus Prime in no time, little buddy." He patted the bot and walked into the kitchen with Hiro.

He snatched a pancake off the plate that went flying down the counter. He took a bite off of it and nodded; everything tasted better after a couple drags off of the Herb. He looked into Hiro's photo-receptor's, the bright lens' that were meant to be eyes. He could see life where there was none in the light of the lens'. Empathy. Feeling. Emotion. All things that a droid could not possibly feel but were by this particular one. Or supposedly were, rather.

Harvey took a deep breath and began.

"I'll join this little get-up you have here. For the sole purpose of helping the galaxy, and my daughter, stay safe and secure, away from the ever closing jaws of tyranny and darkness. But I need one thing to be answered before I for sure join up with your 'Waste Ranger's'."

He grabbed Hiro by the shoulder gently, leading him out to the doorway into the bar, then nodded to Harmony, who was playing with her new hat and bugging Ross to tell him about his adventure's while he was taking all the drink orders. "That little girl right there. She means everything to me. She is the light in the darkness, the void that I walk to at the end of the tunnel, the very reason I continue to live and breath and speak to you right now. I want you to tell me one reason why I should stay in this city full of sin, hate, envy, death, plague, and crime. I want you to tell me why I should tell her to live in this living. Nightmare." He stepped back, staring into the droid's photo receptor's, the eye's of a droid that now should be looking on his daughter like the eyes of a living being.

 

[Grimlock]

The high pitched beeping from Chief was all that Max heard as he jolted awake to find a planet in front of Electronic Interference. Looking down at the screen with the translation of Chief's statement to double check, though he had long gotten to the point where he could translate the droid's speech without any help from a translation program.

Why are we even here? read the screen as Max scratched idly at the side of his head. "Because we need work, Chief. Honest work. No more contract killing." replied Max as the droid gave a short whistle in response before swiveling it's head to turn it's photoreceptor on the man. "Just get the ship to the port. I have someone I have to find." was all Max said before stepping into the lift tube and dropping to the second section of the ship where his quarters were. Pulling his datapad from his belt, he looked over the message again. 'Hiro. Why can't I find anything about you on the net?' thought Max before stepping into his quarters to don his weapons. Quickly checking to make sure they were all present, a sharp jolt shook the ship. Slamming the button of the intercom. "In one piece, Chief. Get the ship to the port in one piece!" exclaimed the man as the ship's descent smoothed out while the beeps and whistles could be heard over the comm from Chief. Max was able to roughly translate it along the lines of "The ship is in one piece. No need to worry".

Finally the ship set down inside the port without anymore issues, which Max was thankful for. He was trying to figure out how the thing had managed to make it as far as it had with only minimal repairs. Punching the button to lower the ramp as he stepped down before digging in his pocket for the case of cigarettes he kept there, quickly placing one between his lips and lighting it with a match. Observing the city in front of him, he saw little to be impressed with. If anything it reminded him more of the mining planet he grew up on. Hearing the sound of servos and wheels, he turned to see the astromech droid rolling down the ramp. "Not this time, Chief. Stay on the ship and watch the net for anything suspicious." spoke Max as the droid gave a sad sounding whistle before rolling back up the ramp and closing it behind him.

'Alright then. Let's find this Hiro.' thought the man as he pulled a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and cranked up the Glimmick music on his pad to his comms. Glancing around him one more time, he saw a large gathering of ships in the port. 'Must be a popular place for the shady types.' spoke Max's mind as he observed the state of them. Shrugging his shoulders to adjust the vest he wore before starting his trek into the city to find the Saloon. The city was little to look at as he wandered through the dirt covered streets while dust threatened to choke out his oxygen, though he found it oddly charming in his own way. Some people would stare at him as he passed while others would give little more than a voiceless hello as his music drowned out their voices. Max said nothing to any of them as he continued toward the place Hiro had told him to meet. Walking down a stretch of road, the sight of some buildings loomed in front of him. 'Must be it.' came the anxious thought from his mind as he entered the front door only to be met by what he could immediately determine was an optical scanner.

Hesitantly placing his eye in front of the scanner, the scanning laser shot across his retina before muttering something about access being granted before sliding open the door to reveal the chaotic scene within. Anxiety immediately bit into Max as he slipped in, finding a shadow before getting his bearings. Large bar. Door leading to another section of the building. Stairs going up. Weapons laying on tables, and even more upon the people lounging and drinking within his immediate line of sight. Finally the strong scent of the liquor at the bar hit his senses, causing him to make his way for the bar where he flagged down the bartender. "Can I get an Ottegan Mead and pointed in the direction of Ross?" asked Max while he turned his music off and reconnected his comms to Electronic Interference and Chief.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro nodded, it was a fair question and certainly Harvey had many reasons to pack up, Hiro could think of only one reason for him to stay,

"You're little girl is the light of your world, I see that in the way you protect her, you care about her with the intensity of a star, now realize that Sathad'Ra out here has 500,000 people, an the life expectancy ain't high, so quite a few of them are children, I chose this world, because I knew not only that they needed me, but that if I could succeed here, I could show people that they don't have to accept greed, they can fight oppression, they can defend themselves against tyranny, they can turn this desert into a garden with enough gumption my friend,"

Walking past the coffee machine and offering the man a glass the droid continued,

"I can offer your child the safety of the Saloon, shell have food, drink non alcoholic a course, and company, Scalia, Vince, Ross, they're good folk, I been with em for years now they never let me down, I'd bet my circuits they;d lay their lives down before lettin harm come to your girl. I don't mean to sound condescendin pardner, but until we can start protecting and trustin each other, specially on worlds like this, the galaxy ain't gonna move forward, and it ain't gonna get better for lil girls like that precious out there...end of the day it's your call, but you know what I'd pick,"

With that Hiro left the kitchen and rejoined the party with no outward indication of what transpired, he hoped Harvey stuck around, but he had bigger flapjacks to flip.

Outside he saw Ross was talking to yet another newcomer,

"Well pardner, I'm Ross as it turns out," he declared with a grin handing the man a cold drink of his choice,

"Whos askin?"