The Smuggler’s Respite Nar Shaddaa 42 ABY
The patter of raindrops against metallic roofs drowned out the sound of Bril’s armored soles tapping against the pavement leading to one of the Smuggler Moon’s myriad cantinas. The sight of a man dressed in ornate, yet ancient armor alone was enough to capture the attention of many passersby – some who were merely curious and many more who considered and just as quickly decided against attempting to rob him of his expensive looking armor – but the peculiar way in which he walked without a single drop of rain touching him left more than a few onlookers with puzzled looks on their faces. Although some would scoff at his seemingly frivolous use of the Force, Bril knew better than to let the multihued fabrics woven into the suit of etched metal to get wet; the armor was heavy enough as it was, though he’d worn it long enough its weight.
As he reached the cantina’s door, he stopped to looked at the last message he received on his wristpad. It was a message from Nora, asking him to meet. Although he understood her desire for them to meet in a neutral territory, he wished she had chosen somewhere that wasn’t in the Hutts’ backyard. Although House Galeres had no quarrel with the Hutt Cartels, that their sister house in Qel Droma did was enough to put him on edge. But one couldn’t tell this easily from the aura of serene confidence the young man carried as he stepped into the cantina proper. Upon spotting Nora, he removed his helmet and clipped it to his belt before heading over to her. A final glance around the room dissuaded curious onlookers from continuing to stare, at which point he took a seat in front of her.
“Hello, Nora,” he began, offering a somewhat restrained yet nonetheless warm smile as he held her gaze, “It’s good to see you.”
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