Post by Darth Xaos on Apr 14, 2016 2:31:36 GMT
Bandomeer, 31 years after the Battle of Yavin
Even with a few hours having passed the saloon still smelled of blaster discharge. And the waiter-droid was taking too long removing the bodies of its former masters, thus the corpses' stench was beginning to make its own mark in the small building. Felran Natri mused that it was as if the droid wasn't grateful for him deciding not to blast it. The Zabrak cast a glance out to the dusty wastelands which surrounded the rundown building. A disappointment at the ease with which he had dispatched the gang occupying the saloon was only somewhat dulled by alcohol which Felran freely consumed behind the bar. Payment for the deed was also going to be lackluster but that made it no different from all the other jobs he'd been finding of late.
The Galaxy simply wasn't the same as it used to be. Though Felran was only eighteen years old, by many cultures' standards having only just achieved adulthood, any traces of the child he'd once been had washed away in a tide of blood over the last several years. After his untimely departure from his homeworld of Iridonia at age fifteen, Felran found his way through violence. Back then the newly-minted Galactic Alliance had been hiring every mercenary, cut-throat, pirate, scoundrel and bounty hunter they could find to further their desperate struggle against the Yuuzhan Vong invaders. But the war, despite what the Zabrak mercenary would've liked, eventually ended. Without a massive enemy force to consider, the GA began dismantling the military it had built up during the war. Attitudes on Coruscant were that, with the Vong routed, defense spending would be slashed to fund reconstruction and the GA would transition to a Sector forces model similar to that used during the Pax Republica.
Of course, attempts to bring about a thousand years of uninterrupted peace usually don't involve many mercenaries. With standing force being rolled back there was no more need for outside defense contracts and the boom in violent employment shriveled overnight. These days the best Felran could hope for were jobs like this one.
Sounds of approaching footfalls brought Felran's hand to his blaster. But the pace of approach seemed casual and, subsequently, a figure sauntered up to the saloon door. This interloper was now plain to Felran as they entered, and also familiar. It was Kooloo Anan, a Rodian mercenary who Felran knew from the war; and who had a knack for finding the best jobs.
"Felran Natri," the Rodian cooed, "At last. For an infamously unsubtle man you've been difficult to find. But once I saw the bodies outside I knew my search was over."
Even with a few hours having passed the saloon still smelled of blaster discharge. And the waiter-droid was taking too long removing the bodies of its former masters, thus the corpses' stench was beginning to make its own mark in the small building. Felran Natri mused that it was as if the droid wasn't grateful for him deciding not to blast it. The Zabrak cast a glance out to the dusty wastelands which surrounded the rundown building. A disappointment at the ease with which he had dispatched the gang occupying the saloon was only somewhat dulled by alcohol which Felran freely consumed behind the bar. Payment for the deed was also going to be lackluster but that made it no different from all the other jobs he'd been finding of late.
The Galaxy simply wasn't the same as it used to be. Though Felran was only eighteen years old, by many cultures' standards having only just achieved adulthood, any traces of the child he'd once been had washed away in a tide of blood over the last several years. After his untimely departure from his homeworld of Iridonia at age fifteen, Felran found his way through violence. Back then the newly-minted Galactic Alliance had been hiring every mercenary, cut-throat, pirate, scoundrel and bounty hunter they could find to further their desperate struggle against the Yuuzhan Vong invaders. But the war, despite what the Zabrak mercenary would've liked, eventually ended. Without a massive enemy force to consider, the GA began dismantling the military it had built up during the war. Attitudes on Coruscant were that, with the Vong routed, defense spending would be slashed to fund reconstruction and the GA would transition to a Sector forces model similar to that used during the Pax Republica.
Of course, attempts to bring about a thousand years of uninterrupted peace usually don't involve many mercenaries. With standing force being rolled back there was no more need for outside defense contracts and the boom in violent employment shriveled overnight. These days the best Felran could hope for were jobs like this one.
Sounds of approaching footfalls brought Felran's hand to his blaster. But the pace of approach seemed casual and, subsequently, a figure sauntered up to the saloon door. This interloper was now plain to Felran as they entered, and also familiar. It was Kooloo Anan, a Rodian mercenary who Felran knew from the war; and who had a knack for finding the best jobs.
"Felran Natri," the Rodian cooed, "At last. For an infamously unsubtle man you've been difficult to find. But once I saw the bodies outside I knew my search was over."