Part 3: Home

Being from Nar Shaddaa, Jack is familiar with many of the most famous cantinas. He knows of one near here, the Crystalline Wreckage, where spacers often go to find work.

The bar from the outside is unremarkable. A neon sign proclaims its name, competing in a desultory manner with all the other blaring signals of this district. As you approach a Sullustan stumbles and out and loudly vomit on the street.

Jack circumvents the mess, heading into the cantina.

Bo sees a diversity of other species and miscellaneous humans, but no Rodians.

Jack knows that talking to the bartender is generally the best way to learn anything.

Entering into the cantina, you can see that the builders had more vision than practicality; all of the furniture is formed in the shapes of crystals - resulting in uncomfortable chairs and oddly slanted tables. Despite this, there are a score of beings consuming their intoxicant of choice.

An Aqualish tends bar, and she greats you as you enter with a jovial wave before returning to concocting drinks. Her flowing dress also seems impractical for her line of work, but she seems to be enjoying it nonetheless.

A dejected Gand sits at the bar, looking deep into his cup as if it might hold the answers to his problem. His cybernetic leg squeaks as his shifts in his seat. He's wearing the typical garb of a spacer, but the attention he is giving his drink may mean he can't afford many more.

A tall blue humanoid with long, dark, unkempt hair sits slouched in a booth. He is wearing thick clothes and a utility belt, but seems to have little else with him. Perhaps a local, perhaps someone truly down on his luck.

A Twi'lek woman plays holochess against the computer at one of the tables. Her piercing blue eyes narrow as she concentrates, then she smiles fiercely as she keys in her next move. Her excitement fades and fatigue washes over her once more as the computer counters it.

A Human male, unremarkable in every way, sits at the bar idly fidgeting with the space equivalent of a tiny plastic sword, his fingers flickering faster than eyes can easily follow. He is medium height, medium build, and an undefinable age...young and old at the same time. He has slight wrinkles and grey sprinkled through his disheveled dark hair. His demeanor is kind but his grey eyes betray his constant watchfulness, his restlessness.

The woman cocks her head with a self-deprecating smirk and gestures to the opposite seat as she says, "That would be me, apparently."

Doc nods at Jacks direction and heads toward the blue skinned humanoids booth.

The barkeep nods eagerly and begins filling glasses. Just as she settles down to chat, another customer beckons her over and she shrugs at Jack. She points to the human at the bar and the blue-skinned being in the booth before scurrying off to serve other customers.

Doc tries, but he just can't place what species the man is. He is confident he's not a Chiss...they eyes are wrong.