Noventa - A Star Wars Story

Banks Lason walked down the aisles of the Bazaar with his cloak draped over his body to help keep him warm as the sun began to set. He stopped by a stall where an angry looking Dug sat watchfully over his technical wares. Banks' senses however were focused on the world around him rather than the objects in his hands. Subtle glances to the side caught sight of faces, noises, exchanges.

He grinned at the Dug for a moment before stepping back from the stall and continuing to walk down the street...

Quinn had taken a transport out to providencetown, and was strolling around the bazaar. Specifically, she seemed to be strolling around the less reputable parts of the bazaar. The kind where you could find products of the extralegal persuasion. Honestly a kid like her? Places like these? Someone might be asking for trouble. Curiously, should someone recognize the usually totally innocent-seeming little kid from somewhere else, they might notice that she somehow seemed to fit in just fine with this less savory crowd. A few streetwise words here and there, carrying the right posture... it all made her seem like the kind of streetrat who was part of the life.

The rough and ready bounty hunter spotted the young girl in the street and smirked casually as his path took him closer. He'd seen her only a few hours ago, but she had not seen him... such was the game that Banks and all the others so commonly played.

He nodded slightly in greeting to the girl as he drew near...

She was instantly on guard when it was she who was being approached, instead of the other way around. But she hid it well... playing it cool and casual as she gave the unfamiliar face a nod in return. He was probably just gonna pass her by... she hoped. That would probably be the best way this could go.

"Evenin' mister," she added to her nod, persona half-way returning back to innocent kid. If he passed her by, it was just a casual hello that didn't require one to commit to a conversation. And if he had business with her, it was the sort of polite-enough opening that might help her out some.

Banks stopped and took on a contemplative look as if trying to remember something. His eyes then opened slightly wider and he replied, "Hi there. I think I've seen you around before. Aren't you that girl that hangs out in Cal's bar recently?"

"Huh? Me?"

She thought about deflecting or denying but decided against it.

"It's called the twelve parsecs, but yeah."

He smiled warmly, "Twelve Parsecs, that's right. Out runnin' errands for Cal or something now?"

"Something like that," she said.

Hopefully she was convincing, even if it wasn't like she was out here for any specific purpose that someone could confront her about anyhow. It was just that she didn't very much like the idea of some stranger knowing her comings and goings and drawing conclusions from it. Better to be seen as just some clueless kid.

"You know Cal, mister?"

He nodded and smiled, "Yeah I know Cal. I spend quite a bit of time in that bar. Too much time if you ask some people. But there's good people there. Cal has a job every now and then that I can jump in on too... Good to keep connections like that."

He looked down at the little girl, "What are you doin' in a place like that?"

"Just livin', mister."

She shrugged.

"What kind of jobs do you do for him?"

He leaned back slightly, causing his mantle to part slightly and reveal a bit of a utility belt with various things attached.

"Well... I'm kind of a tracker. I find people that need to be found... and ya know let Cal know where they are."

"You mean like a bounty hunter?"

Uh oh.

Quinn made sure to put her best sabacc face on. Bounty hunters were bad news, and she didn't want to get caught getting nervous around one.

He nodded, "Yes, like a bounty hunter. One of the nicer ones though... at least I like to think so."

He chuckled warmly as he said the last comment.

"Does that mean you only go after bad people?"

She was still playing up the innocent kid angle; modulating her voice and demeanor just the right way.

"Are you hunting any bad people right now, mister?"

He nodded, "Mostly like old war criminals and the like... It's how a guy like me puts food on the table."

"What kind of old war criminals? Aren't they dangerous? What's it pay?"

Trouble, or someone off her back? She wasn't sure yet.

A small cadre of Mirialan's passes by the two as they speak, speaking in their native tongue hurriedly. Only the first of the group had any noticeable tattoo's, the eldest, and the others that followed him were far younger and lacked the tattoo's that were so commonly associated with their people. They stalked through the area only to stop in front of one of the stall's that had weapons of varying qualities hanging from it. Starting in with a strong, but hushed, argument with the owner, a Nautolan female.

Another group passes by to obscure the vision of anyone looking. A small, fledgling Hutt, dictated largely by his appearance here in this Bazaar and not having things brought directly to himself, moved his way through the Bazaar flanked on each side by a fully armor guard. Each of the guards wore an insignia of a ringed crescent on their shoulder-pad, a indication of their alignment with ICS. Each member scanned the surrounding area with military precision.

Nearby, elsewhere, was the smell of death. From one corner of this lesser area must be the body of one degenerate or another. In one of the many alleyways that shot off from the Bazaar into the residential areas surrounding this mass of activity.

A small Twi'lek girl ran through the crowd with speed.

"It can be pretty dangerous... and usually the higher the danger the higher the pay..." He replied before his gaze turned to the running twi'lek that drew near them running at a quick clip.

Quinn's eyes did follow those that passed by, and took note of the smells as well. And then the twi'lek running. She wondered if maybe the two were connected; or if it was all just part of the tapestry of coincidences that defined a place like this.

The young Twi'leks Lekku were tattooed with dark, sharp images. A bandanna covered the lower half of his face and he wore a leather based outfit, something far too nice for a usual slum rat. Around their shoulder was a parcel bag that they held tightly.

Only being observed for a second before they disappeared into the crowds of people.