Unfamiliar Places

[Madeleia]

Hazel eyes took in the sandy surroundings as Madeleia stepped from the lowered ramp aboard their newer YT 2400 since losing the last one to a hired gun. A question that she still had that may never be answered. Being a part of Black Sun obviously gained some rivalry, but few missions with them thus far would have gained such attention to warrant being blown out of the sky without warning. Tanned hands upon the handle of her T6 on the right and eclip pouches on the left, she glanced to the cluster of small buildings making up Port Haven as well as the variety of ships parked along the beach. Little in the way of a repair hangar existed, but she hoped that they might be able to at least restock the autochef though the appearance of the ramshackle buildings made her doubt that. Framed by thick wood, the largest of the buildings seemed to be an old hangar covered with a tarp for a roof and cloth and plastic for walls. The rest of the village seemed no better in architecture. Rounded by a wall of detritus and garbage which separated it from the thick jungle, she was surprised that the protective barrier didn't stink in this humidity.

"How long you wanting to stay," T.J. interrupted her musings from her left and behind.

Sighing, she turned to eye her brother, nearly lost to her during that fight over Ankus. "Not sure yet. See what we can find here, then move on I guess."

Nodding, he grinned and patted her on the shoulder, moving up beside her as they walked from the newest Auburn Sunrise. "At least it wasn't a crash landing."

Her eyes diverted from him as they left the shadow of the freighter, "Yeah, rather not revisit that event again anytime soon."

"Don't blame you. But, I still'd like to know who hired that asshole."

"You and me both."

Lowering her hands as she walked, several crewmembers attached to the other ships milling about within eyesight, most paying the pair no mind, Madeleia and T.J. headed for the lone cantina. Boots crunching in hard packed sand, there would be little chance of someone sneaking up behind them here. Her scars faded now, those within would take a while as she could still hear the resounding boom when she hit the lake on Ankus only a month prior. Nightmares that kept her up some nights.

Opening the wooden door to the cantina overshadowed by an empty waterskin, T.J. motioned for her to go first and she did so, scanning the patrons as they walked in as if expecting another ambush. Several occupied tables while five sat at the long, rounded bar on the right wall commanded the room that complimented everything else she had seen thus far. One alone at the bar, hunched over his drink as if worried that someone might steal it completed the picture of the smuggler's hide.

An older Mon Calamari tended the bar and the smells coming from the kitchen made her mouth water as his large, black orbs rose to them. "Welcome to the Haven Water," his deeper, gravely voice greeted.