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Mos Eisley - Tatooine


Tarrian Skywalker
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Tatooine: Mos Eisley

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Outer Rim

Sector: Arkanis Sector

System: Tatoo System (binary)

Orbital Position: 1

Moons: 3

Grid Coordinates: R-4

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial/Desert

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: deserts, canyons, buttes

Points of Interest: Mos Eisley Cantina, Anchorhead Spaceport, Mos Espa Grand Arena, Dune Sea, Great Pit of Carkoon

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Tusken Raiders, Jawas

Immigrated Species: humans, Twi’leks, Rodians, others

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic, Huttese, Jawaese, Tusken

Faction Affiliation: neutral

 

Defense Rating: 1

 

JediRP Canon History: Unlike the Last Call, violence and killing is allowed in the Mos Eisley Cantina. There is only one rule at this establishment: you cannot make a kill and leave the cantina in one post.

 

Looking at the exterior of the Mos Eisley Cantina, few would suspect the bizarre and dangerous array of humans and aliens seeking business and refreshments within. Upon first entering the Mos Eisley Cantina, a patron steps into a darkened alcove - the period in which that patron's eyes adjust from the blazing desert sunlight to the dank interior gives the bar just enough time to check out the new arrival. A few steps down into the main room, one finds a scattering of booths and free-standing tables. Doors to small rooms - rooms where private business dealings can be done - also line one wall. An all-alien band plays a lively tune in the corner.

 

The Mos Eisley Cantina has changed hands several times over the years. For a long time, it was a front for SEED. It was later bought by Mirdala Ad'Goran and her then-husband Tracyn Dar'manda. The Black Sun took over running the bar, though they only owned for a short time. Now it has fallen under local ownership, although it's rumored that Mirdala still owns the legal deed to the place.

 

((Summary compiled by Amidala Skywalker. Thank you!))

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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Looking at the exterior of the Mos Eisley Cantina, few would suspect the bizarre and dangerous array of humans and aliens seeking business and refreshments within. Upon first entering the Mos Eisley Cantina, a patron steps into a darkened alcove - the period in which that patron's eyes adjust from the blazing desert sunlight to the dank interior gives the bar just enough time to check out the new arrival.

 

A few steps down into the main room, one finds a scattering of booths and free-standing tables. Doors to small rooms - rooms where private business dealings can be done - also line one wall. An all-alien band plays a lively tune in the corner. This band is not as good as other bands that have played at the Cantina over the years, but they're good enough for Cantina's rough patrons.

 

Garandos the Wookiee, former smuggler, slings exotic concoctions from behind the rounded bar.

 

((This is meant to be a rougher version of the Last Call - a cantina where the scum of the universe can drink. Unlike the Last Call, violence and killing is allowed. Only one rule at this establishment ”“ you cannot make a kill and leave the cantina in one post...))

Edited by Guest
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*A lone TIE defender emerged from hyperspace above Tatooine, the planet of the hutts. Patch angled the fighter in towards Mos Eisley and landed at the spaceport. After slipping the spaceport authority a fee, Patch made his way through Mos Eisley towards the infamous cantina. At the entrance, Patch adjusted his holster and stepped inside. Looking around, he saw many different life forms drinking various drinks. Like a shadow, Patch made his way right up to the bar without anybody noticing. After sitting down, Patch turned to the wookie bartender.*

 

"Lomin Ale please"

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Garandos growls at the newcomer, and then serves him his drink. The Wookiee then turns to the entrance, and roars at a Jawa entering with two droids.

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*Patched nursed down his ale as he watched various beings enter and exit the cantina. Patch sees a 3PO unit enter the bar, before the wookie bartender roars at him, Patch waves him over and asks*

"You, droid, do you understand wookie?"

 

"Why yes sir, I am fluent in over 7 million forms of communication, more than the famous C-3P0"

"Whatever, be my translator for a sec, ask this wookie where a bounty hunter such as myself can find work"[/i]

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Just a little note, the RP rules apply...No One Hit kills or Captures. No one hit maiming. Just so you know. Even though you can kill or be killed in this bar you may not do it in one post. And please do not complain if your character is arbitrarily attacked, captured or killed within this thread. You entered at your own risk, with the knowledge that it is not a neutral zone, and that voilence is second nature in this establishment.

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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Garandos glares at the droid, and then speaks in the Wookiee tongue. A speaker from underneath the bar broadcasts the Wookiee's words in basic.

 

Get rid of that droid, pal, or I'll be serving your hide as today's special. If you want work as a bounty hunter you came to the right place. Try heading out to the Jabba's desert citadel ”“ the Hutts are still active there. Either that or head to Rattatak. Now get rid of that droid.

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*Patch sighed*

"Very well"

 

*Twirling around, Patch unholstered both his blasters and shot the droid twice in the head, then turned back around to the wookie*

 

"Sorry about the mess, i'll catch ya later"

 

*Turning back around, Patch made his way out of the cantina, pushing aside a Twi'lek at the door. Making his way through Mos Eisley, Patch got to his fighter and took off, headed for the Hutt's palace*

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Rinnian set his ship down in one of the docking bays. He strolled over to the cantina and entered. He couldn't see a thing after being out under those twin suns. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed a wreck of a protocol droid laying in a heap near the bar. He was glad he hadn't brought D-4P7 along with him. He had payed good money for that thing. He shrugged and started heading toward the bar.

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Two Jawas sweep away the remains of the droid as Garandos serves some drinks to a pair of 'thirsty' Bith musicians. After a moment, the Wookiee turns to the newcomer.

 

What will it be?

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((OOC: I apologize for the double post...))

 

IC: Rinnian, sick of waiting for that drink, got up and headed for the entrance. He walked back down to his ship, hopped up, and took off without waiting for clearance.

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A low growl escapes from the Wookiee's throat as the man gets up and leaves. Some people these days were just too impatient. Garandos returns his attention to serving drinks to the Cantina's other customers.

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The Howling Runner landed on Tatooine. Piccolo emerged from the cockpit, his wookiee skin cape flapped in the dust storms of Tatooine. Piccolo had grown up in this cess pool. Every bone in his body spurned this planet. It had been a hard life as a labor slave. Piccolo's half-Trandoshan body made him perfect for such work, even as a young child. He had killed his first man here. His Twi'lek master at age seventeen. Piccolo often wondered what his life would have been like if he had been born elsewhere.

 

Dwelling on the past is a weakness I must purge.

 

Piccolo entered the Cantina. The lowest of Tatooine's already unimpressive denizens were know to gather here. Piccolo looked around examining the place. Most bounty hunters frequented the Cantina often, as it was a good place to find your targets. Given Piccolo's status, and the fact he'd grown up here, it was hard to believe this was his first time here. But he had purposefully avoided this place throughout his career. The bartendar reminded him why. Piccolo recognized him as one of Wyhl's former employees.

 

A wookiee. Why did have to be a wookiee?

 

The Trandoshan blood in the bounty hunter left him with an innate hatred for the species. Their naive nature, and horrible stench were a revolting combination. Piccolo walked up to the bar. A few patrons stared his way, but the soulless visor of his helmet convinced them to quickly look away. Most were smart enough to mind their own affairs in this place. That was the only thing good about it.

 

Piccolo sat down on one of the stools and waited for Airleas.

 

"Plain water Wookiee."

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Eas-San lays covered under a light layer of the thick stone rubble of the Mos Eisley Cantina. The dirty drunks sitting at a table near by gape at the Sith with glazed eyes then gape even wider as he rises to his feet unscratched after passing through a wall. He begins to step towards Sly with, angling his own saber to match the position the Jedi was in.

 

Pyre stops just before exiting outside again. He frees one of his hands from his saber and holds a tight fist back towards the bar. Then, suddenly, he opens his hand, busting all the bottles stashed behind the bartender for display, then brings his hand forward which sent the flurry of broken glass careening at the Jedi.

 

The drunks sitting nearby collapse to the ground, their heads impaled by stray pieces of glass, while the rest pursue Sly. It was impossible for the man, the myth, the Master Prophet, to dodge all the pieces of glass, especially in the incredibly organized pattern Pyre sent them in. Protecting only the vital organs, glasses pierce multiple areas of Sly's arms and legs, sticking under his skin to constantly send the thrill of pain through his body.

 

Fenrir brings his hand back to his saber as he breaths out, having his saber in a defensive position. His Sith rage casts a dull red light in the dark cantina, showing to Sly the Sith power of absolute strength, speed, and awareness...

Angelfire sucks cock

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Shards of glass richocheted off the bounty hunters visor. Piccolo fell back off the stool blaster already out. His eyes narrowed as he saw lightsabers flash outside. Piccolo returned his pistol to its holster. Drawing his blaster rifle, he stood in the doorway.

 

Ah, Fenrir and Stevenson. This should prove entertaining.

 

Piccolo began to contemplate how he could use this to further his own ends.

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The glass wasn't deep enough for severe damage; however, it was in the top layer of skin, many of the pieces still exposed. The red beams coming from the interior of the Cantina were bright, Eas-san was obviously waiting for Sly to enter the local watering hole, before Sly did so, he used the force to remove the pieces of glass that were still inside of him.

 

The glass pieces ripped and tore the skin of the Jedi master, nothing the meditation processes and the Jedi healing state couldn't take care of... if he had the time, that is. The Pieces of glass rose upward into the air, Sly could tell that Eas-san suspect that the glass would be returned, however, Sly had other plans for the shards that were covered in blood.

 

Extending his left hand outward, Sly hovers the pieces of glass over his hand, then, reaching upwards, Sly moves his hand around top of the glass pieces, closing his hand downward on the small fragments of glass.

 

For a moment, Eas-san watched his former Master grip the glass in the palm of his hand, Sly reopens his eyes, and begins walking towards the whole in the wall, stepping through slowly and carefully; hand still extended outward in a fist holding the glass.

 

"You clearly have learned nothing, neither with me, nor your other Master... pitiful still this weak with so much training."

 

Eas-san feels a cool liquid splash the back of his neck, thinking he was being attacked from behind, he quickly rotates his neck to see what danger lays behind, however, in doing so he turned slightly on the true danger ahead.

 

*A bright blaze of fire pours from the hands of Master Prophet, its heat catches the young Sith by surprise, and to even more amazement, the cool liquid that splashed on him, was the alcohol that had been soaked on the counter. Eas-san's cloak bursts into flames, and is his skin burned; the flesh begins to melt as the fire continues to pour from the hands of the Jedi Master*

 

Any watchers would have considered this some sort of magic however, by use of the force; the process of heating the glass shards was simple. Using the electric current given off by the Lightsaber that was amplified by Sly's robe, he used the Electric shock to heat the glass into a liquid state which he amplified hotter with the force to it's boiling point, when he released its hell upon the Sith.

 

Standing ready with his saber in hand, Sly continues to shoot the flames burning Eas-san. The smell of burning hair, flesh, and fabric could be smelt in the air, and a growing smell of death was sure to come.

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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After seeing that, Piccolo hurredly slung his blaster rifle over his shoulder.

 

Maybe it's best not to get involved. At least I'll have a show while I wait for Lianahan.

 

Piccolo pulled up a stool and grabbed his water off the counter. He sat back and relaxed.

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Originating form somewhere else in the galaxy, a cool feeling washes over Sly. It begins to heal his wounds and give him more power. Then Leo appears before Slys eyes, but not enough to distract him from the fight.

 

"Sly. You taught me to embrace death, a lesson well learned. Now I will teach you a lesson on embracing life. Becuase of you, I was able to gain knowledge about my wifes twin. I want you to be their godfather. Well, I will leave you to your battle. Meet me in space, after your battle. I know you will win, Master Stevenson."

 

The image fades and the wings on Slys back glows as does Leos, their fates intertwining.

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Pyre stands motionless, raising his hand to eye-level to watch the epidermus bubble and pop, revealing his bones. The flames rise above him, scorching the ceiling with black tar but spreading no more due to the construction of these Tatooine buildings, heat prevention in the design. It continues to fan out though, covering the ceiling with a thin layer of an orange ocean.

 

Around Sly, the civilians, the weaklings, began dropping dead once again but no physical signs of their passing was present. Like bugs, one by one, they crash out of their chairs onto the dirt ridden Cantina floor. Only, the keen senses of a Force user could feel the life energy from the drunken innocense being ripped out and rush towards the Sith, reviving his being at the cost of their lives. Force draining, a simple Sith Force ability, heals his wounds.

 

Pyre watches as his hand soon falls down like baking bread back to normal and feels his body become excited with death.

 

Fenrir, with nothing but his under robes on now and burnts patches of his outer robe, pounces forward from the flames he was enveloped in with his left hand outstretched, reflecting the shooting flames. The reflected fire travels little but Pyre's fast movements manage to grasp around the fingers of the glass wielding Master Prophet. Fenrir's right hand, holding the crimson light saber, keeps the Jedi's saber at bay as he crushes the glass holding hand with raw Sith power. The bones in Sly's hand begin cracking, and his forehand glows a light red as the boiling glass welds his fist shut.

 

Pain could be seen in the eyes of Master Prophet though he tried to hide it. Pyre knew this man whom he was determined to kill. He knew his every sign of emotion. Throughout this battle, every human emotion had surfaced through the Jedi's eyes except one, fear. Neither men feared eachother, or feared the inevitable outcome of death.

 

Once satisfied that every bone in the man's welded hand was broken, he lets go to unleash a fast left hook into Sly's face, sending him soaring into another of the Cantina's walls, not breaking the wall but simply sending a thick crack stretched from the ground to the ceiling.

 

Pyre throws a table out of the way as he resumes his defensive stance...

 

"I feel my old student... Begging for you dum-witted words..." Pyre speaks coldly, "You should have let him die a Sith but instead gave him an unhonorable death as your follower."

Angelfire sucks cock

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After serving the bounty hunter Piccolo a drink of water mixed with Rodian urine, Garandos sits back and watches the fight. The Wookiee resists the urge to draw his own blaster rifle when things started to get smashed up - drawing a weapon on customers would be bad for business. After a few minutes, one of the combatants throws the other against a wall, causing a huge crack. The Wookiee roars.

 

You'll be paying for the damage, you stunted piece of slime!

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_____________________COMM TO PICCOLO_____________________

 

This is Agent Jaster... again. I am back on Honoghr. Comm me with next instructions or any other assistance that is needed. The recruits look very promising. I will continue to train them untill you need me to assist.

Jaster out.

_____________________END COMM_________________________

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Sly leans against the wall, eyes cold... true to their icy blue color as he stands up right. Shaking the pain from his body, Sly proceeds with a slight burst of meditation, his force of will raised, and ready for more battle.

 

Looking down at his hand, he notices the wounds; the sound that Eas-san heard, the 'cracking' noise was not in fact bone. Long ago, way before Eas-san's time at the peak of Sly's prime, he lost his hand to a great Sith warrior, a true great Sith... not the one that stood before him today; this weak, half tainted man that Eas-san had become.

 

Rubbing the hand, Sly reworks the circuits of his hand, attempting to regain control of his mass of metal covered in fake plastic flesh. The fingers moved slower, though, it did not matter, all they would really do would be clinched around a lightsaber hilt.

 

Sly's eye's regain sight on Eas-san, the two stood strong in the face of another. Eas-san had embarked down the wrong path; back stabbing Sly was the equivalent of jumping off a bridge the result: death.

 

Feeling the force running through him, Sly regenerates himself, standing upright, and deactivating his lightsaber. Let's see if Eas-san was as good as he thought he was, and lets just see how good Sly truly is.

 

Lowering his stance, Sly begins to accelerate his movements with the force, much farther than Eas-san could ever push himself, perhaps 3 maybe even 4 times as faster than Pyre would be able to. All Eas-san could do... hope... that his defense would be fast enough.

 

Sly jumps upward, using the wall as his leverage, jumping over Eas-san's blade, dodging it's movement before it even began. As Eas-san twirled his blade around to follow Sly, the Jedi masters hits the ground, springing low this time doing a roll along the ground kicking Pyre in the back of the leg.

 

Springing upward, Sly bounces of a table while Eas-san's leg buckles underneath him. Bouncing off the table, Sly spins around in a circle mid air to kick the Sith in the face with his right leg, then gives himself a boost spin with the force, to wrap his left leg around to kick Eas-san in the face as well.

 

Blood splattered across the room as the Second kick left Eas-san stunned, his mouth and nose dripping with blood as Sly lands, avoiding his blade one more time with a ducking motion counter attacking with a double solid fisted punch upward into Eas-san's chest.

 

This finished the job that his first punch had done. The ribs of the Sith cracked in a loud motion, and Eas-san would feel this pain throughout the rest of the battle. Flying backwards, Pyre slams into the metal door, however, does not stop, and continues his flight path out the door and into the busy Mos Eisley Street.

 

A snap and a hiss is heard from within the Cantina, then, a shinning white blue light beams from the dark cavity of the Club like room. A confident feeling comes over Sly as he see's his old friend laying on the solid piece of metal of a door, blood pouring from his friends mouth, nose, and a wheezing coming from his breathing.

 

"If you like the taste of blood... I will make you swim in a pool of your own." Sly says from within the cantina.

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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Garandos serves the newcomer her water, without the addition he added to the bounty hunter's glass. The Wookiee then turns back to watch the fight, all the while mentally calculating how much this was going to cost the two combatants.

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Piccolo could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. Things had not been going well for him lately. The frustration was augmented by the Trandoshan blood that flowed through his veins. As of late, he had been considering surgery to shut down the pain receptors in his nervous system as well as the portions of his brain that controlled his emotions. It was risky, but had been successfully performed by the Empire a few times. He remembered stories of the famed trooper gone bounty hunter named Dengar aka Payback. Of course, in the end Dengar's emotions had proved to powerful and he had fallen in love. Piccolo's thoughts were interrupted by Garandos's roar. In a flash, Piccolo withdrew his pistol and pointed it at the wookiee's head. His voice trembled with anger,

 

"Your incessant noise is running on my nerves beast. Annoy me one more time and I'll have a new pelt to add to my collection. I normally don't choose such an unkept and scraggly coat, but in this case I'd make an exception."

 

Piccolo struggled to keep his finger off the trigger. The stress of the Reagan hunt, and the rush of the battle outside had overflowed into an uncontrollable rage. He calmed himself and returned to his seat. Keeping the pistol out of sight, he still held it across his lap.

 

I shouldn't have let myself go like that. It is foolish to make unnecessary enemies. Now I'll have to watch the wookiee the whole time I'm here.

 

Just then Airleas walked in. Piccolo gestured to the seat across from him.

 

"You're late, but at least you came. As you know, Reagan has eluded me for some time. She has earned a certain level of respect from me for that. I have to be honest, Smash cares nothing of this situation. He has given me free rein to have some fun. Unfortunetaly, once I discovered Rane was involved it became personal. Now it appears he's dropped all her other protectors. He will kill her before this is over. I can feel it. Just as he did to me when we became allies."

 

Piccolo lifted his helmet off. He tapped the scales of his forehead, a metallic sound echoing through the bar. He returned the item to his head.

 

"Blaster bolt destroyed my skull. I was in the hospital for months. Part of my brain was destroyed as well. Smash replaced it with machine. Look, I'm not here to tell my life story. I just wanted to show there aren't many who can help her now that he has her. I want to help. For the sole reason of saying I bested Scando. I'm willing to do it on your terms. I don't expect you to trust me, but perhaps we can reach some sort of agreement here."

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Garandos did not like being threatened, especially in his own bar. The powerfully built Wookiee reaches under the bar and pulls out his heavy blaster rifle. With his right hand placed on the bar's top, Garandos hoists himself over to the other side. Using the rifle as a club, the Wookiee hits Piccolo in the chest ”“ the bounty hunter is knocked backwards, and his blaster clatters to the floor.

 

With the heavy blaster rifle pointed at the bounty hunter, Garandos growls his own threat. The speakers below the bar translate.

 

This is my cantina; I operate it under the patronage of the Hutts. You mess around here, and you're dead, do you hear me?

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Airleas looked at the bounty hunter guaging his truth and deceit with the force. Trandoshan's were difficult to read to begin with. "I could assist you. Reagan is in trouble I believe, but I am not to sure I know where to start. what is it you want for me to do?"

 

((OOC: hey, it is tax day, so I may not be on again till after 7 PM tonight. Sorry guys but you know these people that wait till the last minutue.))

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Piccolo stood up and brushed himself off.

 

"And I am the top operative of the Black Sun. I guarantee Smash Daisaku, one of Wyhl's closest allies or the Hutts wouldn't like you putting Rodian urine in my water. That's right, I am part Trandoshan, which would allow me to smell it anyway, but I also have had my senses enhanced mechanically. If we fought you would lose, and I don't wish to offend Wyhl, he would hold a grudge against me. However, if you do that again, I'm sure he would understand. Ask him, if you don't believe me. Make sure you include the part about Rodian urine."

 

Piccolo calmly picked up his blaster and returned to his seat. He dumped the water from his glass onto the floor.

 

"Now bring me a fresh glass, with fresh water, wookiee."

 

Piccolo looked over at Airleas.

 

"I apologize, as you know, wookiee's are notoriously rude creatures. I don't know exactly. Can't you use some sort of Jedi trick to sense where she's at? To be honest, I don't know much about the Force."

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The Wookiee only smiles, showing his large and very sharp fangs. Without a word, Garandos lowers his blaster rifle, and returns to the bar where he serves a couple of other customers. Down the bar, a deformed human speaks ”“ the man's words carry across the cantina.

 

"You should watch yourself; we're wanted men..."

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