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Rabobankrider

Star Wars: Kings of Nar Shaddaa (IC)

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Seb turned his attention to the man who was seated next to him after his grumble at the Imperial drudges. A wry smile formed at the corner of his lips. He raised up on his seat and appeared ready to carry conversation with a fellow, apparent, shockball fan. Just as his excitement welled up in his chest, one of the drunken Imperials staggered his way to the seat next to Seb and slammed his fist down.

Seb didn't even flinch at the sound of the thud. Rather, he lowered his head slightly and his smile faded from that to a sneer and a low grumble. As Seb pivoted back in his seat to face the Imperial, he slipped one hand into his coveralls and slid on a pair of brass knuckles. If this Imperial wanted a fight, he'd pay dearly.

"Move on, Dianoga breath. Your...kind...isn't exactly welcome here and flashing that blaster will cost you at least half the teeth in your pretty little skull." Seb said to the Imperial with a menacing grin on his face.

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HU-1K heard a friendly voice as he was sitting in his corner, the voice of his mechanic Seb, who fixed him after his battles in return for protection. It seemed that an Imperial was bothering him, so HU-1K walked over. At eight feet he towered over everything else, "Query: Do you wish for help, friend Sebrungo?" HU-1K would relish a fight if he got it.

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The young man would snort at the Dug's words, his voiced raising in decibel so he can be heard clearly across the room. 'My kind short stuff? What would my kind be hm?' He would reach into the pocket of his expensive leather jacket to produce a small metal chip with the imperial symbol imprinted on it in red. This man wasn't just a drunk patriot, he was an imperial official, most likely military or navy judging by the chip. 'An officer in the imperial navy?' he would say loudly, standing upright to spread his arms wide. His friends at the table would cheer him on from where they sit.

He'd glance across at the Nautolan as he addressed them waving his pistol unsteadily in his direction. 'You watch your business stranger, unless you're looking for trouble to!' He'd lean forwards again, sneering at the Dug, his face less than an inch from the aliens. His eyes would flick down as the alien reaches into his pocket. He'd shake his head at this before sliding his pistol across the bar towards the alien. 'You really want to go you filthy alien? Or you want to just cheer for our great empire and be done with it?'

As the clunking droid approaches, the man would glance across expecting nothing of note. His mouth would drop open slightly as his head moves slowly to look into the face of the green monster. He'd quickly recompose himself, looking back at the Dug. 'This, thing a friend of yours?'

Edited by Rabobankrider

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"...Enough is enough. Time to be stupid." Jace knew that things were about to tip. All it needed was a push, and the way to do that was to distract the leader of the group. The chip flashed for a moment, but Jace kept abreast of military rank in the Empire, for it was largely the same as the Republic.

"Two-by-two, red on blue...yep, this lieutenant can't keep his mouth shut. And with the jackets...flyboys. Easy to hurt their pride."

"Hey, butterbars flyboy!" Jace said, yelling at the leader of the group. "Incoming!"

With one swift flick, Jace flips the bottle so that he's holding the neck in his hands, and throws it at the lieutenant's face like one would throw a knife...

Jace ducks for cover in the bar, expecting a fight. What happens is that the bottle hits the wall...followed by awkward silence.

"...That could have gone better." Jace thought, his face red from both the malt and embarrassment.

Edited by satkaz

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Re'peek's ear flick toward the voice, and then he watches the bottle sail, almost as if in slow motion across the room.  Nowhere near the Imp's head, and instead smashing against the wall.  In one of those glorious moments of serendipity, even the music and holo-vid displays happened upon a moment of silence, and the bar resonated with the lack of sound, punctuated only by the tinkling of broken glass, and a very faint dripping sound.   "Yep, that's my cue then."  He says quietly to himself.  He nods to the bartender, and takes his drink, sliding over a few credits in exchange.  He loves these drinks, though he finds the naming convention of humans so strange sometimes.  Not sure why something's color has any indication of masculine or feminine traits.  I mean, if they had fur coloring, sure that might be an indication.  But, they're all basically pink, so why this pink is so masculine he'll never understand.  But, the colors were enjoyable, and he liked the taste.   He takes one step back from the bar, to clear any obvious lines of sight, and takes a sip, ready to see everything go crazy all at once.   He loved this bar.

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As Leto scans the room covering Re'peek, at the center of the ruckus, he notices a Nautolan reach nervously into the air. Just as his brain began to register the scene direction, this massive Falleen ... no a tattooless Mirialan or maybe a colossal Arkanian experiment gone wrong begin to move and stand by the Dug's side seemingly against the Imperial. He immediately thought "I'm sure glad I did not insult that guy's team". 

Confident the colossal brute would dampen the Imperials quarrelsome mindset, Leto glanced back at Re'peek receiving the drinks. He thought "You see, smooth. Here comes my drink" as some mad dog would naturally yell incoming by tossing a bottle and ducking behind the bar. The remorseless bottle smashed against a distant background wall with tiny shiny little shards flying past the bar attendees.

Of course... Leto would see his buddy take a step back to drink and enjoy their beverages. Straightway Leto thought "My drink.. Ahhh Frakk!" as he saw the room about to react. He did not come here for the 'Rusty Droid' party or savage tussle.

 

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The pilot would flinch as the bottle sails past him, shattering against the wall as the splinters sprinkle the floor. All eyes would rest on Jace, and hands throughout the room would reach for weapons. Blasters, knives, chairs, someone even had a crowbar. The only noise was from the private room, but even that soon died down as one would emerge, looking around in befuddlement. 'What is going on?' he'd say, staring across at the bar. 

Meanwhile the pilot by the bar had gone very pale and quiet. He was visibly shaking with rage as he slowly turned to face pilot, seemingly forgetting the existence of the squat alien for a moment. 'You filthy swine' he would gasp, raising his pistol. He didn't get much of a chance to do anything with it though. Another bottle would sail over his head, smashing into the back of a particularly bulky Aqualish. The Duros would struggle to remove his blaster from his pistol in his drunken haze, muttering to himself before calling out to the rest of the gang. 'No no no. Boys! It's kicking off!'

As if on que, the entire place would erupt into a seas of violence. Chair and tables would go flying, bottles smashed over skulls, the Aqualish would grab a man by the throat and throw him clean through the air and over the bar. In a few moments, the rest of the Duros swoop gang would leap from the room, lead by their lieutenant. He would snarl at the sight as he goes to wade into the crowd. 'Break it up you idiots or the ganks'll be down our throats!' he'd shout as he begins to throw punches into those too close to him. 

Although the Duros ran the sector, in truth everything was run by the Hutts, everything. Very few knew which Hutt owned this particular sector, but nearly everyone knew of no less than two murders of Ganks that were used to police the sector. They were as merciless as they came, and would invariably be effective at breaking up disturbances. Rumour was they'd already killed six drunks for causing problems, and this was going to attract them like moths to a flame.

Seeing no effect was being had for his orders, the Duros would turn to the rest of the gang. 'Alright boys, turf them out!' With that the gang would dive into the fray, using the buts of blasters as makeshift coshes. They had little effect in quelling the crowd, but they were not ones to give up easy. Fortunately for them their position at the back of the room gave them a good defensive position to hold their own against the thronging mass. 

 

 Swoop Bike Gang 1 Combat Check: 2eP+3eA+2eD 1 failure, 3 advantage


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Swoop gang one moves to short range of drunk group 2, advantage spent to add 1 to melee defence for 1 turn. [/spoiler[

Edited by Rabobankrider

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Jace, using the cover of the bar, pulled out the light blaster pistol, and fired at the Duros gang. With a barrage of shots, one Duros was down on the floor, while another got a blaster bolt in the stomach.

 

Pulled out blaster pistol, switched to stun, fired at pilot group:

Ranged Light [Shooting Pilots]: 2eP+1eA+1eD 1 success, 1 advantage, 1 Triumph
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Spend a triumph to incapacitate one Duros outright, spend the advantage on the next PC, deal 4 damage to the rest of the group.

Added Difficulty: 1eD 0 successes, 1 threat
d-th.png

 

Edited by satkaz
Switching target to Duros.

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The majority of the fighting was done with fists in this bar. As violent as things get, most folks don't like to inflict death upon a fellow patron. Doing so bring too much unwanted attention. The end result was regular brawls like this would bubble up every so often, but die down just as quickly as rose up. Already a stream of people rushed out of the doors to avoid the chaos, but just as many stayed back. For plenty, this was the only way to really blow off steam. 

As the shots were fired over the heads of the drunks, they would be undeterred, and would turn their fists against the swoop gangs that beat them with their pistols. The Duros has upset plenty of locals after upsetting the status quo with their swift and brutal takeover, and this was the perfect chance to make this known. 

A few of these men were factory hands, strong from the labour that came with it, and they were able to strike a few good blows against the alien swoop gangers. A kick between the legs and a swift head-butt to one of the blue aliens skill would leave him crumpled on the floor, curled up in a ball as he cradled his injuries. The would be some cheering before the drunks fell on themselves before too long. 

 

 Drunk Group 2 Combat Check: 3eA+2eD 2 successes, 2 threat


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Does 4 damage to Swoop Gang group 1, disadvantage adds set back dice to groups next turn. 

Edited by Rabobankrider

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Leto glances at the main entrance and the backdoor as the chaos of the brawl breaks out. He notices that being in the bar's corner booth, he'll spend less time by slipping out the backdoor given its position to Re'peek from the bar counter. He thinks "Excellent, I might get my drink yet". Leto moves casually up to Re'peek from his booth trying to create a appearance of control as the fight continues. He reaches his hand out to grab his drink. Smirking, Leto makes eye contact with Re'peek and motions his eyes to backdoor. He briefly thinks "I might as well get this brawl back on track. Help the patrons explain to the Ganks what went down".

Leto gets in character pretending to be outraged yelling "The Empire doesn't own the Nar Shaddaa Industrial Sector you Moof-Milkers!!! You can't force our homage to the Empire and insult the authority! Don't arrive here with your xenophobic insults! Get out of our address!!!". Leto tries to still appear in character as he takes a swig of his drink. He glances at Re'peek to see what his move was and indicating he was done.

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Meanwhile, the pilot that had been at the centre of all of this had taken up his pistol, snarling at the man who had dared to attack him. The young man was young, handsome and well dressed, and it seemed that he had an easily bruised ego. Flipping the pistol in his hand he would shove his way past the Dug and a couple of others at the bar to reach Jace. He would go to clamp a hand on the mans shoulder to yank him towards him as he raises the but of the pistol high. He seemed to have forgotten all about the Dug, at least for now. Instead he would swing the pistol down hard, looking to crack the veterans skull open. 

It seems though that the defender is able to defend himself from the strike, the butt of the gun not doing any real damage to Jace other then the let him know that he is under attack. 'I'll kill you you slum swine!' he'd shout as he attacks, face twisted in rage. 'I'll show you!'

 Lone Pilot's Combat Check: 2eA+2eD 1 failure


a-a.pnga-a.pngd-th-th.pngd-f.png Lone Pilot's Combat Check: 2eA+2eD 1 failure
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Moves to engaged range of Jace

 

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Re'peek wanders along the bar with his drink, ducking under flying objects, and sidestepping people punching each other with appendages.  As he makes his way through the chaos, he idly swipes the Imp's badge ID that he carelessly left on the bar.   He tucks it into his pocket and takes another sip of his drink, seeing if he can make his way towards his booth without too much in the way of conflict.

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As the bar descended into chaos, Jex watched the pilot that had been about to harass them turn his attention instead to another. All the while a man shouted out at the imperial supporters, a human of all creatures, claiming that the empires xenophobia wasn't welcome here. In the meantime, Jex was looking for an escape, causing his eyes to fall on the man the Imperial was attacking. 

No, it couldn't be. 

"Jace?"

He wasn't overly close to the man in truth, but he was married to the one person in the whole galaxy Jace could still consider a friend. His best friend in-fact, a woman who he had gone through his internship with. The humans words again crossed the Nautolans mind: If a nobody could stand up to the empire with nothing but their own life at stake and nothing to gain, what did that make him? He couldn't let the person his best friend cared for die or be grievously injured, not here.

Going to his side, the Nautolan drew the heavy blaster pistol, levelling the weapon at the Imperial Pilot as he took a swing at the man. The man thankfully missed his mark, but he wouldn't. His experiences from Mandalore came flooding back, the graduate putting his own experiences on the battlefield to the test. Pressing the trigger, a loud crack echoed from his gun as he shot for the pilot. For a moment the joy deflated as he missed his mark, hitting not the man but the blaster pistol itself in his hand, sending it flying from his grasp. Perhaps it was best to roll with the punches."Sir, I must advise you that it's bad for your health to pick fights." He kept the gun pointed at him, doing his best attempt at a cocky and confident smirk although given the circumstances it came across as more uncertain. Like a friend smiling at anothers bad joke to not hurt their feelings."Trust me, I'm a doctor." 

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It was a good shot on the doctors part, even if it was unintentional. The pilot stared down in disbelief at his hand, mouth hanging agape. 'What is going on?' she would scream in despair as the chaotic situation went into a tail spin, for him. He'd never expected things to go quite like they had here. Still, it was too late to back out now.

It wasn't going to go well for the doctor though either. A gang of fighters would come barrelling in from the side to attack him. They weren't looking to attack him specifically, just anyone who happened to be in their way. In this case, that was the Nautolan.  A creaky chair would be swung at the doctors side, catching him square across the side of his arm. It exploded in a shower of splinters as it strikes home, nearly knocking him clean off of his feet. He would be surrounded by cheers and shouts as the fight swirls around him. Fortunately, a chair to the body is often a great way to spark someone into life.

In the mean time, the remainder of the swoop gang had fought their way free of their private booth, just in time to hear the spiel against the empire. They two drew their guns to fight, but they did not set their weapons to stun. Without their lieutenant to keep them in check they were shooting to kill. This did nothing to retain order, it only seemed to make the fighting more frantic. However it did also encourage more people to make good their escape from the bar, an advisable move for many.  

'Filthy imps!' One would shout as they open fire, catching the table to men scrambling to their feet entirely by surprise. They didn't even have a chance to draw their pistols before the gangers tried to gun them down. They didn't know what was going on, covering their heads as best they could. The firing of the shots got the rest of the gang a bit of space to manoeuvre as well, no one wanted to be shot. 

They turn to face the attackers as best they can, drawing their guns to return fire. The shots were largely ineffective, hitting the back wall more then the Duros, but they did do some damage. The Duros were taken aback by the returned fire, throwing them off their game. 

 Drunk Group 1 Combat Check: 3eP+1eA+2eD 2 successes, 3 threat


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Drunk group 1 moves to engaged range of Jex, does 7 base damage to Jex, automatic threat plus 1/3 used to destroy improvised weapon, 2 disadvantage spent to give Jex immediate free manoeuvre. 

Swoop Bike Gang 2 Combat Check: 3eP+1eA+2eD 2 successes, 1 Triumph
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Swoop Bike Gang 2 does 7 base damage (5 total) to drunk pilots, triumph spent to upgrade swoop bike gang 1 for next turn.

Pilot Group Combat Check: 3eA+2eD 2 successes, 2 advantage
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Pilot Gang attack Swoop Bike Gang 2, does 7 base damage (5 total) to them. Advantage spent to add black dice to their next check. 

 

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A sadistic grin stretched its way across Seb's leathery face. The Imperial likely saw him reaching into his jumpsuit to slip on a pair of brass knuckles but the timing couldn't have been more perfect when a chair came sailing across the bar space. Seizing on the opportunity, Seb took a wild swing at the Imperial closest to him but failed to land as the Imperial juked backward anticipating the attack. The attack may not have landed, but the commotion of the room definitely gave the gang and Seb's "allies" the upper hand and a slight advantage to nail these Imperial sympathizers.

Seb growled and made a guttural shout in Huttese before leaping on the bar top and pursuing his victim.

Sucker punching the guy nearest to me (No movement so I'll aim): 1eA+1eP+1eB+2eD 0 successes, 1 advantage
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Advantage will pass a boost to the next attacker.

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HU-1K reaches behind the bar after the Imperial and picks him up by grabbing the back of his head and smashing it repeatedly into the bar before grabbing him by the leg and flinging the small man around like a rag doll.

 

: 2eP+2eA+1eB+2eD 6 successes


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Using my free maneuver to draw my brass knuckles and smack the Imp as hard as I can. 11 Damage before soak which I'm going to assume will drop him.

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The imperial pilot slumped to the floor, blood gushing from his face as he lies in the spilled drink and glass of the fight. It would be difficult to tell how injured he was, or even if he was still alive. 

Regardless, the patrons of this bar had other problems to deal with. There was a call from the entrance of the bar, and it was being echoed back by others. 'Ganks! Ganks are on their way!' Plenty of people had been fleeing before, but now it was a great wave of people trying to escape. No one wanted to face the Hutt's favoured killers. How long they had till they were arrived was uncertain, but it wouldn't be long. 

One of the Druos swoop riders cursed hearing this. The group tussling with the drunks would double their efforts, having no intention of hanging around any long then they had to. Still the rabble would not break, frustrating the gang even more. 

 Swoop Bikers Combat Check: 2eP+1eA+2eD 2 successes, 1 advantage


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Does 6 base damage to drunk group 2, advantage spent to add 1 strain to enemy.

 

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Posted (edited)

"Amateur."

The pilot had some training from the academies, but nothing beats battlefield experience. He swings down wide, allowing Jace to move his body to the side and parry the arm out of the way, enough for a certain someone to shoot his gun out of the way.

As soon as the shot clears, Jace sees the Nautolan. "It's him..."

Elise had told Jace she had a Nautolan friend that worked in Kamino. The fact that the Nautolian called him by name sealed the deal.

He gets the blaster ready to fire at the pilot only to see a hulk of a droid grab him by the back of his head, smash it across the bar, and fling him down to the ground.

"Uh...thanks." Jace says to the droid. He turns to the Nautolian. "Jax, right? Get down!"

He switches targets to the ones aimed at Jax, stun setting on. He fires at the ones next to Jax.

 

Ranged Light [Close Quarters]: 2eP+1eA+1eC+2eB 2 successes, 3 advantage, 1 Despair


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5 Damage after Soak, I believe. Light Blaster Pistol runs out of energy. Spends 2 advantage to keep the drunk guys off Jax, giving them Setback, and 1 advantage to restore Strain to 1.

The shots start firing at the group next to Jax and hit some of them. And that is when Jace Roy pulls the trigger, realizing something: the power pack had run out.

"...Frakk."

Still, it was better than hitting Jax, of all people.

Edited by satkaz

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Jace growled as he was hit by the drunkards and the chair, hissing out as he fell against the bar.
"Karabast!" He growled, glaring back at the group through grit teeth. He had weathered worse hits in his time, his kind were stronger then they looked. But that didn't mean getting a chair to the back didn't hurt, however. 

Before he could respond he heard a name and the unmistakable shriek of a stun blast, ducking down as the blast flew overhead into the crowd that attacked him. He glanced back at Jace. He would have corrected the man across from him for getting his name wrong, but right now wasn't the time for that. Not when he was in the thick of things.  

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Posted (edited)

Re'peek jumps back as the massive droid trundles over and casually pounds the Imperial officer silly.  "Holy poodoo!" He cries out, startled, almost dropping his drink.   "Ok, definitely need to find the exit after that!"  He glances around, trying to find the most advantageous path to egress from where he is.  He quickly downs his drink, no sense wasting it when he spent credits on it.   He attempts to set it carefully down on a table, nodding to the bartender as if to say "I'm not part of this insanity."...then a second later someone smashes the table with a chair, also breaking the glass he tried to save.  He shrugs to the bartender in a silent apology, and attempts to avoid as much misdirected hostility that he can manage.

(Not taking an action or anything, I just felt like the droid coming in and doing what he did warranted a response post, since I was at least reasonably close to the guy who got roflstomped)

Edited by KungFuFerret

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As the sound of gunfire rings through the bar the fighting would rage on. Still the rowdier of the patrons would carry on fighting. Even the threat of the ganks would not deter some, and those were still locked in combat with the Duros gang. As some of the gangers were felled by gunshots, they would press the advantage, diving in with kicks and fists. Another would fall clutching his stomach, groaning with pain. It could be seen that the Duros were beginning to lose the stomach for this fight. 

 Drunk Group 2 Combat Check: 3eP+1eA+2eD 1 success, 2 advantage


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Advantage spent to add setback dice to enemies next check.

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Posted (edited)

Leto covers Re'peek scanning the bar as he moves to nab something discretely. His eyes shift to monitor the drunk pilot react to the mad dog who threw the bottle. Surprised, the Nautolan who appeared to surrender pulls out a blaster and proficiently disarms the rowdy pilot with a crack-shot. Just as that registered, the same Nautolan marksman gets smash with a chair against his arm as the brawl intensifies. Subsequently, like a holovid, the massive green Arkanian Experiment responds by reaching for the rowdy pilot and smashes his drunk skull into the bar. If that wasn't enough, he began to flail him around the room by his legs.

Convinced it was time to go soon as he heard the bar yell 'Ganks', the voice of the mad dog resonated as he yelled 'Get Down'. He immediately thinks "Jace? Is that Jace!? I heard he was busted after running with some 'professionals' and got sent to Republic prison... Noo ... Nooo waaay!!!". Unfortunately, he didn't have time to confirm whether it was his friend or not; not with this brawl and distance gap. Leto flashes back in time to a memory of Zay nicknaming Jace, 'Desperado', when they use to throw rocks at abandon buildings to pass time. It wasn't anything fancy, just a casual name we used to describe Jace's accuracy and tough persona. He thinks "If it is Jace, I don't want to yell his name in case he escaped prison. I'll use 'Desperado'. If its not him, no harm". Leto looks straight at the mad dog in the eyes across the counter and yells "Desperado!!!" until he makes eye contact. He slowly turns his head to stare at the back door and then back towards him so he could track the motion. Leto walks over to the back door, opens it and turns back towards Re'peek. Just long enough to be noticed by the Bothan, aware that he signaled to him prior. Leto turns back around to walk through the kitchen door, out of the bar mayhem.

Entering, Leto waves to the kitchen staff and waitress hiding in the back as the rumble continues. "Hey, I just wanted to thank the chef who cooked my Giju Sliders ... Primo job. Thank you". He glances back towards the bar and says "Yeah... Hey, I'm going to just use this backdoor if that's cool. It just turned into a intense party and my invite is else where. Again, thank you. You guys deserve better" with a grin. Attempting with class, Leto casually proceeds out the kitchen door to the Rusty Droid back alley.

Edited by Vergence

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