Eventually, the night of drinking came to an end for her. It was as if autopilot kicked in and told her that if she stayed another minute she would get into a bar fight, puke on someone and possibly pass out in a strange place with not so friendly people. Meena slipped out of the cantina and decided to walk back to her ship in order to sober up. It just happened to be raining too and the cool water felt welcome on her hot skin that was flushed from drinking quite a bit. The way was long because she was slow and had to stop often in order to catch her breath or calm her head that was spinning. After stopping for some water at another place, she was finally able to walk straight and fast enough to her ship.<br/><br/>She felt exhaustion weigh on her shoulders as she walked across the hall, past several docked ships until she finally saw the port of her own ship and quickened her footsteps. Meena could almost feel the warm embrace of her modest but comfortable bed. Finally some rest. Finally some alone, quiet time.<br/><br/>As she stepped back outside on the landing pad, her eyes fell first on the figure sitting at her ship.<br/><br/>Thousands of thoughts ran through her mind as she froze in place. It was the earlier client who was a security officer working undercover. It was the customs officer who had figured it all out. It was a bounty hunter collecting a bounty she hadn't heard about yet. It was a fellow smuggler who had come to kill her. Either way, she didn't feel comfortable knowing that someone had been waiting for her there, because if they had had the brains to come her ship specifically, they had to know who she was and what her records were. Meena's hand found its way to her blaster pistol as she slowly walked closer to her ship, stopping as soon she could see his face more clearly.<br/><br/>Part of the reason why she had been a successful con artist (and still would be if the chance to continue should arise) or a criminal in general was her impeccable memory of people and their faces. She never forgot a face, which was why some other criminals had a reason to fear her. A grudge could be carried for a very long time by her; five, six or even seven years. And in this case it was seven. Meena couldn't believe who she was staring at. A familiar anger lifted its head in her guts as she recalled the first day in Kessel and how she had cursed the name Drak Icerin day after day.<br/><br/>"You..." She uttered.<br/><br/>So why was he here now? Was he going to arrest her for smuggling? Meena bit her lip, knowing that if she ran off, he'd catch her eventually, and that it was better to just act as if she hadn't done anything wrong. Still, this was really irritating her and freaking her out. It was not a good ending to her first night of drinking.<br/><br/>"Get away from my ship." Meena said finally. "I don't want the stench of the likes of you to stick on it."