Log:Dust And Blood
Maxio's Diner is not the worst spot on Tatooine. So there's evenings where people might stop in with kids and their families. Tonight seems to be one of those nights. There's a few different species in the place tonight, which isn't surprising. A tall Chiss sits at the back booth and goes over things quietly. There's also a group full of ruffians at one of the tables by the door that make smart comments about everyone that enters. It's really annoying.
There's a little kid that keeps running up and down the aisle when the waitresses aren't taking orders. A really normal early evening in the diner
Tatooine is the worst spot, so Maxio's can only be a close second. But it has cool drinks, and cool food. COLD. COOOOLLLD. Hadrix hates this planet, even with one of the clan homes here.
He is walking with Ca'tra - he might even had her hand on his arm if she's taken it. Old habits die hard and the attempts to culture him remain from his old life. "Think they have cold jungan fruit juice, Ca'ika?" working his way through the crowd and to the counter - acting as a wedge to get Ca'tra where she wishes to be.
A loud obnoxious and long burp erupted from the armored man sitting in his own booth towards the 'middle' of the diner. The ruffians weren't that far from him and he was facing towards the older Chiss female who sat in the back. Handsome was one word to describe this man, dreamy hazel eyes and pouty pretty lips... now marred with the grease and condiments of his devoured nurf patty melt and loaded tubbers. He sits back, letting out a groan, hand going to him stomach. His plate with licked clean. Reaching for a napkin that sat next to his void armor's helmet on the table, he's use it to wipe off the deluge of leftover from his cheeks and lips. Sajin, the Hapan King of Drik, was a bar owner out in Motesta so sometimes he'd come to Tatooine to check on his business and of course look around for any good deals on ship parts and weapon modifications. What other reason did people come to Tatooine, other than to hide? He seemed to ignore the Ruffians for the time being, they hadn't gone too far yet and well... it wasn't his problem anyways.... An eye moves to Netep as she comes to the Diner's outside seating area, a brow raising. Odd chances running into people he knew here. Then there's Hadrix, "Huh... well." He raises a hand in greeting before letting out another less loud audible burp.
Rika was seated by herself near the front of the diner, sandwich and a drink in front of her. She had just wrapped up some work on Tatooine and stopped by the diner to get out of the sun for a bit and grab a bite to eat. She had been assured the sandwich she ordered would be -mostly- sand free at least. At this point, she'd take what she could get. Her brow furrows in slight annoyance as she hears that kid running up and down the aisles. She does her best to ignore it while she takes a bite of her sandwich.
The Ca'tra on Hadrix's arm wants to be cool, out of the suns, in the shade. As inured as she is to having people eye their armor right now she's had enough of it, irritable might be the word and unusual for her easy going self nearly spoiling for fight. The armor was made to blend into the cliffs of another planet, its rugged heights of tan and buff. She pushes down the shemagh covering half her visor, a variant of the more well known Mandalorian helmet and search for a table. <"We are going to have share."> The eye roll can't be seen but is heard in her voice. <"Find whatever you like, vod.>"
A passing Ronto being led through the street had chosen this place - right here, right now - to void the contents of its entire digestive tract. Or so it appears. And smells.
Suddenly, Muri's not so keen on this warm, desert air. She flees the scene, leaving her seat, leaving her bike, leaving ALMOST her appetite as she darts inside, wooly headscarf/shawl clapped against her mouth and nose with a palm, but definitely isn't to ward off the dust. If only it was as good at keeping out the stench.
So hurried is her bustling entry that she /almost/ tumbles over that kid. It's a staggering two-step that averts disaster but puts her up against the table of those mouthy hooligans.
The kid that was running manages to duck Netep and neither of them go falling head over heels or anything bad. There's a look up from the parents and they scold the child and have them come back to the seat, "Don't run. You're going to get someone hurt." they state.
The Chiss in the back gives a bit of a smile, but sobers when the child is scolded. It had to happen. There's an angry old looking reekcat seated on the table near her. Apparently it's a customer as well.
But it's the man that comes through the door that looks like there /might/ be a problem. The human man is about 5'11, covered in sweat and dirt. His clothes look a little rough. His eyes dart wildly from the left to the right as he enters. Once he spots what he was looking for, he starts to head the way of the table full of young ruffians.
Ramming his helmet with the sudden rot of foul... stuff in the air. <"Ca'ika, remind m to get you a weather control suit"> said after the whine of suit seals engaging, covering him fully in Mandalorian plating, and then he feels the hand on his arm, T-Visor silvering over as the HUD engages, swinging first towards his clan mate, and then the man covered in dirt and grime. Hand settling on the hilt of his blade,
"You alright there Netep?" Sajin asks after jumping slightly in starlement as she rushes inside through the door. He hadn't seen the beast take a big old pooduu outside, causing the darker skinned trader to come running in and away from the imminant smell. He doesn't pay much attention to the kid getting scolded, none of his buisness. He makes note with his hazel eyes of the mudd covered man heading towards the jerks at the table. Again, however, it's really nothing for him to pay attention to but like any studios person with years on the street he would keep an eye on something that could develop into a problem even if it was just to keep other people safe from harm. Hadrix must not of seen him, that was okay. He looked towards Ca'tra who was with him, then back to the large Mando, raising an eyebrow.
Rika glances back as she hears a slight commotion from Netep's entrance into the diner. She rolls her eyes when she sees her almost trip over the kid that was running around. "It's a diner, not a race track," she mutters under her breath. And then she notices the table Netep's wandered into and raises an eyebrow. Well that potentially looked like trouble. This is only made further apparent as that dirty-looking man enters and makes his way toward that same table. Rika continues to eat her sandwich, but she was watching the goings-on at that table warily now.
Ca'tra' vod has 'trigger-nerves' the light tightening of her hand felt through his armor enough to alert him. The visor of her armor washes from opaque to silver as she trips the HUD with light pressure from her tongue.
"Hey, sorry," Muri upholds both hands after rattling some ruffians' glasses on the table with her hip bump to the edge. "I spill, I buy, hey?" Cept she didn't spill. Not yet. Sajin gets a thumbs-up, held out to the side in direction of his voice, then the rest of the palm unfolds to wave. A sudden change in expression upon one of the ruffian's faces has her turning back around though, just in time to see the disheveled dude with crazy eyes REAL up close and personal.
Memory check: Does his face ring a bell? No. Nope. Not really. Let's dial back the weathering of time from that face by about a decade. What about now? Still no. Unless it was one of /those/ parties, in which case -- oh, he's not here for her. That much is obvious now. Doesn't change the womprat-in-the-crosshairs look freezing her eyes wide open, though. Duck, Muri. Move, Muri. Do SOMETHING, Muri!
"Eyyyy, coona tee-tocky malia, eh? Waajo koosoro? Bena's boy, am I right?" She moves to intercept, which takes really just a step and a half forward while extending an arm like she's gonna welcome the guy into a pseudo embrace/turn-around. What better way to derail a (presumably angry drunk's train of thought than with confusion!?) Her backwater accent melds fluidly in and out of Huttese, with a hint of extra sleezy, made special for him.
There's a split second where the man gives a look to the other people gathered and he might have second thoughts. That's before a gooey substance smacks into the side of his face. And some of it hits Muri given she's walked into the line of fire.
There's a uproar of laughter from the young gents table, "Ow. Right in the kisser!" a blonde youth shouts. You could already tell why they annoyed people.
The man looks at Muri and squints, not knowing what she's saying, "This is between me and them. Move." he tells her. "You got some stuff on your shoulder though." he reaches to brush it off the womans shoulder. "They need someone to beat the snot out of them..." he sighs.
Looking to Sajin now, giving a helmeted upnod, before he motions to his hip, drawig his vibrosword, but keeping it offline, his free hand gesturing towards Sajin's massive Ryyk blade before giving a thumbs up.
Sajin literally has no problem with this guy wanting to beat the crap out of the jerk-off kids at the table. He doesn't draw a wapon, he doesn't move to stop anyone. What would happen literally wasn't going to hurt anyone. If anything, that guy was about to get beat by a bunch of kids half his age because he decided to walk in on them without any back up... without an strategy. "Excuse me, can I get a cup of Caf?" He asks the waitress/waiter as they move along by him.
Then Hadrix is pointing his blade at him and making claims for him against the man. He blinks... and blinks.
He didn't even actually have his Ryyk blade on him... just his pistol, his knife, and some metal knuckles.
"Ah... well, hold on there Hadrix. Clearly these little Hutt-suckers did something to upset Mr. Angry face here so let's go form there before we start ripping out spines. Ok, Ka?" He looks towards the man and then group of kids and asks plainly, "What happened?" He was a king after all. He could do Kingly things, like be diplomatic. Somehow... it was probably just because he was a hot piece of meat.
Hair trigger nerves might run in the family. Blending in with the tans and blacks of Ca'tra's armor is an edition of the BlasTech line for keeping unruly people in a bar in place or for teaching manners. Keeping the blaster low against her thigh she admires the fluid Huttese of the woman she now realizes she has seen on Nar Shaddaa. The Galaxy is a small place.
The very large man with the semi-regal air about him intercedes but not violently. So, she waits, preferring a little cool shade and quiet on this hot double-sunny afternoon than wading into someone else's fight.
Rika furrows her brow as she spots the armored figures moving toward that table now as well. Whatever happened at this point seemed highly likely to involve collateral damage. There's a glance toward the table where that kid was now seated with his family before Rika sets her sandwich down. Getting up from her chair, she reaches up to adjust her hat before making her way over. "Ladies, gentlemen, perhaps whatever this is would be best taken outside?" she suggests, gesturing a hand toward the table that family was at.
"I know a great poodoo pile, out front," Netep thumbs at the door, dropping her act the moment some goop splats into her leather sleeve and catches in her hair. Admittedly not the grossest stain she's suffered this week. "Big enough for at least two." Feet rooted where she stands, she turns a look around to land upon the brats. "But I bet we can make room for thr--" AH. Suit of armor (Hadrix) is voicing menacing words and...a graphic visual. Spines. Ehk.
Netep eyes the helmet warily, then looks past to the beautifully dim King of Drik. She doesn't know this scuzzy looking dustball that's just rolled in off the street, but she owes no allegiance to the food (we hope that was food) tossing miscreants either, and in this moment she feels herself sympathizing more with the former. Still, there are children here. PROBABLY what's coming to them should, in fact, occur outside, like Sajin, like the Mirialan are sayin. So. What better way to lead things in that direction than to goad them on? One booted heel sliiiides back toward the door, braced to run in case what follows must suffer the intended consequence:
An incredibly rude gesture flashes back at the punks seated at table, accompanied by some multilingual slurs that have /got/ to be offensive, if the tone they're uttered in is any indicator. Hopefully those little children are poorly educated in the linguistic arts.
The man that Muri had stopped gives her a bit of a sigh, but, doesn't try to get past her given the splattered food on his face. "I'm sorry miss." he whispers when she has to get stuff out of her hair. "Those pieces of kriff swindled me. Took my money and a load of cargo I needed delivered, dumped my cargo. I lost money over them being lazy punks." he states. He looks to the Mando's and Sajin and there's a sigh, "I don't want any trouble with you guys." he points out. Maybe he wasn't so sure about trying to beat these guys up anymore.
But the guys seem to quiet themselves when they notice huge guys with swords coming their way and Sajin SOUNDS like he knows what he is talking about. "Maybe we should give him the money back?" one of the quieter ones tells the blonde head of the pack.
Because the odds were against them and at least ONE of the four knew it.
Calmed by Ca'tra, though the man still has his irritation firmly on the forefront, speaking over clan comms while the others diplomacize <<"As you wish...">> It's not the easiest thing for him to leash in, but then it is Ca'ika.
It doesn't stop him from looming forward, to actually try to position himself to block passage for both the dirty man and the punks. To hear this out and give time to decide what needs to be done, and how it may outweigh how he wants it to be done. Hadrix looms, weights. Storm cloud on the horizon.
Sajin glances to Hadrix, and then back to the kids and the angry man. He purces his lips, his cup of caff beging put down in front of him now. "Oh, thank you." He says softly and kindly to the server. Those otherwise dreamy hazel eyes then find shoot daggers towards the one kid who says they should give the money back... and then to the others at the table. "Yes... you /should/ give it back." He says in a very commanding tone before picking up that hot cup of caf, the steam still rising out of it and taking a sip with a delicate turn of his gauntleted wrist. Pinky out of course, as Kings do.
Well, things seemed to be settling a little bit at least. Kinda. Sorta. Folding her arms, Rika glances between the unkempt man and the group of troublemakers, starting to understand a bit more what had happened. "Does kinda seem like that might be the best option here, yeah?" she suggests, giving a small nod in agreement with the others. "Avoid startin' up any fights in this fine establishment." She didn't know what everyone else's stake in this was, but it was clear at least one of them intended to ensure graphic violence should any occur at all.
Hoping that the tension will ratchet down and seeing it actually subside are two very different things. A sigh, just the lightest of whispers escapes Ca'tra's vocoder as she cants her helmet to one side neither standing down or advancing into the fight.
The tide could turn with the story that the man pours out helped by the glint of light on Hadrix's vibro-sword. Persuasive things. She sees Hadrix calm with the slight shift of his sword and body weight.
Pretty man weighs in. <"I couldn't agree more,"> she says over their personal coms maintaining silence to the cafe at large. She can see a large glass of something iced looming in her future as long as no more of whatever was thrown takes to the air again.
Ugh. Cargo mishaps. The fallout. The blacklisting. Muri knows ALL about that...and it makes her mad. "Ain't that a sad story, now," she reaches up to flick a little goop away that's oozed not quite off the dude's chin, then pats his shoulder. Possibly wiping her finger clean on said shoulder. "Least all you lost was credits. No bounties on your head, eh? Lucky for /them/ bishwags," she nods pointedly to said 'bishwags' at table, "I reckon."
Having made it known who's lot she's opting to throw-in with, should this turns to blows and seeing as how there was plenty of muscle alerted to this situation to ensure the transaction takes place...Netep joins her pal Sajin over there at table and helps herself to some chairspace across from him. "Is it hot?" A little nod to the steaming cup in his hand. No one ever said 'small talk' had to be smart talk.
"Alright, alright. We'll give this guy his money back." the blonde states with a scowl to the others that were in the swindled guys corner. He stands up and digs the credits out of a pocket of his vest and then moves towards the sweaty guy to hand them to him. "Sorry man." he tells him. Then he nods for the other three and they begin to head out. They even leave a huge tip for their waitress! Maybe they didn't want to get beat up in a dark alley.
The sweaty guy with the wild eyes breathes out a sigh, "Thank you guys." he tells them all. "And here, since it ended without bloodshed." he states as he gives each of them a few credits.
Money in hand, that works well enough. The blade drawn is returned to Hadrix's hip and the cred-chits tucked away into a belt pouch. <"I suppose that's one way to put it."> The big man looms there, eyes on the dirtied man, and then towards the group of punks, externals rumbling.
Is it hot? Yes... it's hot... it's too hot. Sajin stares at Netep, bringing his cup of caf down from his lips. His eyes start to water and that pretty face of his goes red. He swallows, the hot caf burning his throat. It's already seared his tongue. He lets out a horse breath. "Yes..." He wispers, starting to cough then. He doesn't notice right away the money the man offers him as he is look around of a cold drink to relieve the pain. He just takes it and pockets it in his moment of desperation... "Wah... wah..." He begs Netep.
Rika shakes her head and hands the credits back to the man. "Ain't no need for that now, didn't do anything worth that. Just glad things didn't come to blows." She tips her hat to him and turns to make her way back to her table, where her own food and drink still luckily remained untouched. Potential crisis averted, she resumes quietly enjoying her meal.
Aloud she only adds to Hadrix's self-description, as she tongues off her HUD and the visor opaques to black, <"The truth. Thank you."> With a nod, she tucks the money into her pouch at her waist then looks around for a vacant table that will allow her to see the entrance.
"Hey, man, that's..." hold on, Muri, let your brain catch up to your mouth! Don't refuse gifts. Slowly, Netep's hand closes back around the credits and redirects them toward her own pocket. "Very generous of you. Thanks." Now she can put a little extra cred into this week's laundromat visit and /really/ wash Ryo's blood off her clothes! Today's turning out to be a good day.
More or less. There is still unidentified goop dangling alongside her left cheek that smells vaguely of burned rubber and leather oil. At least, that's what the nose says. "Uh." She watches Sajin's face turn increasingly 'five-alarm' shades of red, and tugs a canteen out from her jacket. "...ter?" The canteen tips in his drection, cap already pulled off and flapping against the canister's side.