Tatooine had always been an out-of-the-way sort of place, the planet mostly overlooked and forgotten despite its enviable position in history. This fact suited Halan quite well; he was not one who cared all that much about the broader political landscape of the galaxy - so being out of the picture was very much his thing. Riding into the nearby town of Mos Espa on his Eopie, Halan couldn't care less about what was going on abroad, he was far too busy.
He had his cycler rifle on his mount's saddle and a knife on his hip. Halan wore a cloak over his usual farming attire and had a punch of credits on his person, taken from his private stash so that he could get himself a drink. Pulling down a scarf which covered the lower half of his face, he lifted his goggles from his eyes with his other hand and gently coaxed his mount into the town, down one of the main streets toward the cantina.
Passing by collection Hutt enforcers, who were quite amusingly standing outside the nearby Consortium Police building, he kept his eyes in front to avoid catching any unwanted attention. Offworlders seemed to be everywhere these days, making use of the obscurity of his homeworld to hide away their criminal dealings, whereas the Consortium appeared to have taken the planet and pumped money into the towns, but ignored the farmers that had been here for centuries.
"Whole lot of nothing -" he mumbled under his breath as he rode past a young man on a flash speeder, one of the new 'traders' that had seen their fortunes accelerated under the Consortiums guidance "- unless your one of their lot." he grumbled to himself. He'd heard the rumours, same as everyone else, that the only folks being favoured by the Consortium where those they'd shipped in from offworld.
Bringing his mount to a halt by the cantina, he quickly dismounted and fastened its reigns to a holding post, Shaking his head as he walked inside, past yet another poster of the Consortium President, this time graffitied with a gang symbol over the man face, he walked up to the bar and ordered a drink, before turning to face the vidscreen overhead.
"More talking from the politicians again?" he laughed as news of some large conference of galactic powerbrokers taking place on some heavily fortified world was breaking "Ne'er heard of half of this lot." he added, as the barman nodded and put his drink down in front of him.
OOC - Open to all 'reasonably unknown' characters to come and react to the news with me.
He had his cycler rifle on his mount's saddle and a knife on his hip. Halan wore a cloak over his usual farming attire and had a punch of credits on his person, taken from his private stash so that he could get himself a drink. Pulling down a scarf which covered the lower half of his face, he lifted his goggles from his eyes with his other hand and gently coaxed his mount into the town, down one of the main streets toward the cantina.
Passing by collection Hutt enforcers, who were quite amusingly standing outside the nearby Consortium Police building, he kept his eyes in front to avoid catching any unwanted attention. Offworlders seemed to be everywhere these days, making use of the obscurity of his homeworld to hide away their criminal dealings, whereas the Consortium appeared to have taken the planet and pumped money into the towns, but ignored the farmers that had been here for centuries.
"Whole lot of nothing -" he mumbled under his breath as he rode past a young man on a flash speeder, one of the new 'traders' that had seen their fortunes accelerated under the Consortiums guidance "- unless your one of their lot." he grumbled to himself. He'd heard the rumours, same as everyone else, that the only folks being favoured by the Consortium where those they'd shipped in from offworld.
Bringing his mount to a halt by the cantina, he quickly dismounted and fastened its reigns to a holding post, Shaking his head as he walked inside, past yet another poster of the Consortium President, this time graffitied with a gang symbol over the man face, he walked up to the bar and ordered a drink, before turning to face the vidscreen overhead.
"More talking from the politicians again?" he laughed as news of some large conference of galactic powerbrokers taking place on some heavily fortified world was breaking "Ne'er heard of half of this lot." he added, as the barman nodded and put his drink down in front of him.
OOC - Open to all 'reasonably unknown' characters to come and react to the news with me.
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