<span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;">Star Wars: Blood is Thicker than Corellian Whiskey</span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&amp;t=41713">(link to OOC thread)</a><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e223/RedCorrin/Vos_Gesal_Street_zpsa257df8f.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #8000BF">Coruscant</span></span></span><br/><br/><br/>The Golden Wookie was the best Cantina on Coruscant as far as Drak Icerin was concerned. Located in the Uscru Entertainment District, it was the perfect dose of dirt and class, just the way Drak liked it. He sipped his Corellian Whiskey, letting the fumes encroach his throat, as the alcohol settled warmly at the bottom of his gut.  He loved the taste of this particular brand, the Jester Saber, a woody-spiced whiskey that left him with a smooth aftertaste. As he enjoyed his drink, the patrons were hooting and hollering at the holovid of a pod-racing event from one of the outer worlds. He didn’t much care for it, but was slightly annoyed by the grunts and screams of a particularly rowdy group of Rodians.<br/><br/>“You mind changing the channel, bud?” Drak asked his favorite bartender, a Twi’lek named He’Toha, in his Coruscanti accent. Most cantinas and tapcafes employed droid bartenders, but Drak much preferred the conversations of a real person, when he wanted to talk that is. He also didn’t have much of a fondness for droids, anyways.<br/><br/>“Itao rek Oari, Drak,” The green bartended responded in Twi’Lek, roughly meaning ‘of course.’<br/><br/>As the channel changed to a Sabacc tournament, The Rodians immediately got up in a fit, one of them throwing a chair. They were drunk. Four of them approached the bartender screaming, “who did that?” He’Toha pointed towards Drak as if it weren’t a big deal. The four Rodians surrounded Drak in a huff, ready for a fight.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Gee thanks He’Toha</span>, he though to himself, rolling his eyes. “Problem?” he asked calmly.<br/><br/>“Who do you think you are?” One of them screamed with a slur.<br/><br/>“Well my name is Drak Ic-” he was cut off mid sentence as one of them grabbed Drak. With the help of another Rodian, Drak was thrown through the holographic window of the Cantina. He slammed against the metal pavement into the multi-colored streets of Coruscant where the populace was too busy to stop and help him. He gasped for air. He contemplated going back in to arrest them, but he was too drunk and off-duty. If he arrested every low life he pissed off for assault, he’d fill up all of Coruscant’s prisons. He was one of the best Investigators for the CSF, but most of the time he had to deal with people like those Rodian’s in the Coruscanti lower levels. He found at times that letting things go from time to time benefitted most parties. He brushed off dust from his jacket, and made sure Tala, his DT-2 blaster pistol, was still in his holster. He got himself up, just barely standing straight.<br/><br/>“I see you’re still starting up trouble,” said a soft feminine voice from behind him, with a similar Coruscanti accent like Drak’s. He turned to find a human woman with curly golden hair and blue eyes. Drak always thought his sister-in-law Cyn was very beautiful. His brother had good taste in women, even if he didn’t have good taste in affiliations. The so-called rebel alliance didn’t exactly have the best reputation.<br/><br/>“Well you know me, I can’t have a good drink without causing trouble,” he jested, which he only did with those he was close with. He then realized her eyes weren’t full of the life she was known for. In fact they were sad, troubled and scared. He got a pit in his stomach. “What happened? Where’s Tero?”