They didn't come any meaner than Daron Fel, and on Nar Shaddaa, everyone knew it.  The endless surging crowds of sentient beings parted before his wide-shouldered gait, afraid.  And why?  Let's say that Daron Fel had been on Nar Shaddaa before and it hadn't been pretty.  It was never pretty when Daron Fel was involved.<br/><br/>Internally, Daron Fel was excited.  Not because he felt like he was at home.  That feeling was expired.  No, Daron Fel liked Nar Shaddaa because the drugs came easy and the whores came cheap.  Like any addict, he was jonesin'.  Sure, he got his fill with the Zeltron aboard the ship.  He loved sticking that minx, and that's probably as close as Daron Fel would ever get to loving anyone.  Tonight, the veteran mercenary was going to show some other women how he loved.  And that wasn't going to be pretty either.<br/><br/>"Request for shore leave, captain; request granted," he said in his snarling tone to the captain.  There wasn't any rancor between himself and the captain, at least none that Daron Fel knew about.  He simply spoke in a deep, snarling manner.   "If you need me, I'll be by the bar getting my dick wet."<br/><br/>He proceeded to the bar, sidled up on a stool next to an attractive brunette.  He spun on his stool so that his back would be against the counter, and then leaned over to inspect her lower back.  Daron Fel nodded appreciatively.  He reached over and gave her rump a firm squeeze, pulling the woman, whether she wanted or not, into his grasp.  His mouth, always in a sneer, pushed against her ears.  A message was given, for at first, there was a bit of a struggle.  But then there was a pause of reflection, a look of appreciation, an instance where greed had to win out against every possible internal signal that screamed danger in the presence of this man.  Then a nod.  A confirmation.  A contract.<br/><br/>The woman led him to a dark booth before disappearing underneath the table.  Daron Fel draped one arm over the booth's back, the other drew a long cigar from his pocket.