Kuat

[Bakra]

Bakra was standing against a wall, idly waiting for whatever big announcement the Dark Lord was looking to make. While it meant little to him whatever, the Jedi, GA, or the Sith controlled the galaxy, he had to admit that the Sith threw wicked parties. He'd already lost track of most the pilots under him. He certainly didn't mind. And while he didn't necessarily engage in the more debaucherous partying, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a nice drink and get to mingling. He stepped off the wall and into the crowd. The people surrounding him was abuzz with stories of battle and glory from Dark Sun.

 

He shook a few hands, other officers and the sorts. If this were a bar, he'd be boasting about his kill count. Half a dozen fighters confirmed throughout the course of the battle. But bragging didn't do well for an officer in an official event like this, he's discovered. It was a better play to let his pilots disperse into the crowd and brag for him. Normally he wouldn't scheme for a promotion like this, but it felt right considering the environment. Sith had a certain reputation, and while he didn't care for career or duty, he like a large paycheck. He didn't exactly get paid per kill anymore. 

[Bakra]

Bakra couldn't see the Dark Lord, but he was sure the man or woman behind the title was present. He smiled to himself. That was good. Hopefully the Dark Lord would hear of him, though whether or not the leader of the Sith took any note was still in the air. As was whether or not Bakra really wanted to be on the Dark Lord's radar. He watched the ongoing fights with interest- He wasn't a fighter, but he could enjoy watching a good brawl. Distasteful, maybe, but he grew up a criminal. This was just a pastime to him.

 

His attention was drawn to a chorus of sheering and shouting around a table, and he watched as they left on who seemed to be the leader's orders. He approached from behind, speaking once he was closer.

 

"Your people respect you. That's good. When I was a mercenary, there wasn't a dogfight in the galaxy I wouldn't follow my commander into."

[Bakra]

Bakra raised an eyebrow. This man was a dangerous one, if he was who he said he was. A terrorist of sorts. Not that it bothered him. He found killing innocents distasteful, but as long as he wasn't the one to do the deed, he could live with it. Some people only knew the language of violence. It was a useful one- universally understood. And on the scale that the man before him had committed? It would be pretty hard to go unheard. He sat across from Delta, watching carefully.

 

"I'm Bakra. As for what brings me here, I was a freelance mercenary based in Nar Shaddaa, but got good enough that the pay wasn't keeping up with what I could make in a proper navy with my skills. Figured the Sith were the better bet. So far, I haven't been wrong." he said.

 

"How about you? You've made quite the name for yourself. What brings you here?"

[Bakra]

Bakra chuckled. "Actually, I was out of the system during the fighting. I was running escort for some politician or other, can't remember his name. No one important, evidently, because I didn't see any fighting. But yes, my commitments are towards my paycheck."

At Delta's comment about the Dark Lord, Bakra leaned back in his seat, watching the man before him. Dangerous, and well connected.

 

"I'm a pilot. I flew at Dark Sun most recently. I suppose I'm not any more qualified than any other mook here except that what I lack in definite loyalty I make up for in experience and expertise. How about you? What's got you such a cushy job with the Sith? I assume you were a mercenary, a criminal, or both if you had ties to Black Sun. Not that I mind, of course, gave me plenty of business."