Mecohn winced at Alastor's response. It was so often that his master remarked on his lack of confidence despite his ability. He tried, but sometimes he couldn't tell if it was instinct or nerves or something else.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"> "You got a fighter and astromech?"</span><br/><br/>Mecohn cracked a smirk at the man. He was knowledgeable about the force, but he definitely wasn't a Jedi. "Purchasing a glass is splurging, of course I don't have a ship," he pulled out his comm-link and debated something for a moment before placing it back in his left pocket "but I think I know where I can get one,"<br/><br/>______________________________________________________________<br/><br/>The lower levels of Coruscant were packed with people and bustling. The bright lights of the market district dazzled and illuminated the area, giving the air an unnatural blue hue. Mecohn had stopped several times to stare at the large holographic advertisements and dancer feeds that permeated the district. The two found a place at a relatively calm cantina, taking a seat at the bar, Mecohn noted that the stool was too tall for his feet to touch the ground. The bartender gave the pair a sideways glance before idly cleaning a mug with a rag that seemed too dirty to be doing anything in the glasses favor. Mecohn had second thoughts about the place immediately, but he'd already committed.<br/><br/>Before even attempting to wave down the man for a drink, Mecohn made a noise "So, you have a Mandalorian friend? How does anyone come in contact with them and not get their head cut off?" it was supposed to be a joke, but it came out harsher than he'd meant it to.