Two suns, too much sand...

[Tipp Gray]

It's a dangerous job, but someone has to do it. I laughed at the thought and took another sip of ale. I had been missing for so long, I wondered if the Alliance would even remember me. A mishap near Nar Shadda had forced me to lay low for a while, so I went to the one place a man could lose himself--Mos Eisley.

After a few days, the excitement slowed and the reality sat in. I had almost been killed, and I was stuck on this waterless hell until the heat died down. Risking contact with my comrades was too dangerous. They probably figured me dead when I didn't return. I guess it's better to be thought dead than actually be dead.

My DL-44 hung loosely on my hip. I had a small knife stored away too, just in case. To that day I had not had to kill a man, but if it came down to it, I was ready. I thought my first target was going to be a Hutt crimelord who decided he no longer cared for my wellbeing, but it seems someone liked him even less than he liked me, as they beat me to the punch.

If someone had told me two years ago that I would be sitting in a cantina in Mos Eisley with a cold bottle in my hand and the threat of death ever present, I would have fallen over in laughter. That was before I joined the Rebellion, back when things were simple.

But weren't things simple now? Black and white had turned into hundreds of shades of grey by this point. I couldn't help but smile at what I had become. An agent for the Alliance. Boy, wouldn't my parents be proud.

I lit a cigarette--a nasty habit, I know--and started on my second drink. My contact was supposed to show up soon with information on how to get out of this hell and back to base, wherever my old buddies had decided to set up shop this time. If only I could have predicted what was about to come.


ooc: I'm bringing this character back. This is open to anyone, because I desperately need to mingle.

[Regan Valdis]

The day started off pretty good. After mingling with the local merchants, picking up some quaint trinkets and other fashion items, Regan had enjoyed a very interesting bartering session with a leather merchant. The dwarf-like humanoid had tried to intimidate Regan into paying a higher price, drawing attention to the nasty swollen area on his neck - a shadow remaining over from his business on the desolate planet of Korriban only a week earlier. His mind would always ponder over exactly how he ended up on that bizarre, eery rock. But he managed to keep cool and persuade the merchant into accepting a more profitable price - profitable for Regan at least.

He had a few hours to kill before his rendezvous with an unknown businessman, regarding a bacta shipment. Regan didn't know where the bacta had come from, and frankly he didn't care. He just wanted it at a good price so he could sell it off for a better price. But during his wandering around the bustling sandy city, he noticed an incident involving four men - one of whom was a simple shopkeeper. The other two acted upon the word of their associate - a nasty piece of work who matched the holographic image in his datapad. Indeed, it was his contact. With the possibility of the bacta situation turning out to be more trouble than he thought, Regan stepped into a nearby cantina to calm his nerves and get out of the heat for a while.

Finding an empty table relatively close to the bar, and within view of the entrance, he sat down. He had a desire to be able to see if anybody who looked particularly threatening entered, so that he had ample time to scoot off before anything bad initiated. A scantily-clad woman passed by with a tray of empty glasses.

"Could I get a glass of lum please?"

She scoffed at him, flicking her erotic-looking bone-ridged head towards the bar before walking away.

"The hospitality isn't up to much in here..." he muttered to himself. Slowly, he stood up to make his way over to the crowded bar, glancing around the establishment to get an idea of the clientele. There was a large varied mix of folk, most of them non-humans. There were very few loners. But he did spy one across on the other side of the room. A human. He laughed to himself at the thought of the only two loners in the cantina being human. A brief moment of eye contact between Regan and the human warranted a polite smile in acknowledgement. He gave a slight, conservative wave with his hand, but quickly turned away to face the bar as he realized just how stupid that must have looked.

[Tipp Gray]

I laughed for a second, shaking my head. Was the heat getting to me? Was this guy serious? Waving to a random customer in the Raider's Head Cantina usually got a man a black and blue makeover he didn't want, if not a nice new hole through the skull. Then again, as crazy as life had been the past few weeks, maybe this guy knew something I didn't.

I grabbed my drink and made my way to the patron's table. The fact that he may be my contact to the Alliance crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. He was too clean to be the man I was meeting. That is one good thing about us Rebels--we know how to assimilate. We blend to any situation, because if we're caught, we're tortured and killed. That kind of baggage keeps a man from getting caught.

Anyway, I took my seat across from the stranger and sat my beer on the table. I had my gun hand ready, just in case he tried anything. I had seen people be killed in places like this for less. "You must be a stranger here," I stated more than asked. "Tipp Gray." I stuck my hand out to shake his.

[Regan Valdis]

He stuck his finger up with wide eyes and an even wider grin, but the beaming smile soon withered as the bartender walked right by, totally and blatantly ignoring him. He turned, slightly surptised to see the man he'd just waved to sitting next to him.

"Oh hey, nice to meet you!"

He took the man's extended arm and shook it eagerly, conscious not to rip it off in an over-zealous fashion.

"I'm Regan Valdis, I'm a businessman slash merchant - something of an entrepreneur. Haven't been established for that long but I'm getting there slowly. Business is starting to pick up. I'm from Corellia originally but I've spent my life on pretty much most of the core worlds. What do you do, Tipp?"

His visage quickly spun back towards the bar as the ugly tender made a flyby but did not stop to serve Regan. The young man clicked his fingers as a sign of defeat.

[Tipp Gray]

"Hey, sweetheart," I called to the young Twi'lek waitress as she walked by. I had been frequenting this place for a few weeks and had gotten to know the lady pretty well. She was a gorgeous, green-skinned girl with a temper like you wouldn't believe.

She stopped at the table and smiled. "What can I do you for, Tipp?"

"Get my man here a drink, will ya, Mariya? He looks like a lum drinker to me."

"Sure thing." Then she was off.

"So, a merchant from Corellia?" I went back to our conversation. "I know a few guys from back there. Seems every smuggler I meet around here hails from those parts." I took another sip from my drink and watched Mariya behind the bar. "I'm in the information business," I finally offered. Of course I couldn't just come out and tell him I was an agent for the galaxy's largest terrorist organization, but I didn't necessarily have to lie either. I had become pretty good at dodging the truth without giving false information.

"What brings you from the Core worlds to this desert planet?"

[Regan Valdis]

The Twi'lekk returned with Regans glass of lum. He gave her a generous tip.

"Thanks, pretty-eyes!". He gave her a wink before sipping his drink. The girl just rolled her eyes and turned away to confront the cosmopolitan sea of alcoholics. Regan looked back to Tipp.

"A couple of things actually. Aside from wanting to try some of the local foods and browse the traditional markets, I'm meeting a gentleman later today to discuss a purchase of some bacta. I have another deal in the works - quite a large shipment of assorted supplies - and the bacta is the deal. No bacta, no trade. I just hope my contact is a little more professional than I saw earlier!"

He swigged off half of the lum, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he placed the half-full glass back on the bar top. He produced a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his mouth with it. He then slapped the bar top hard with the palm of his hand.

"Man, I needed that. My friend was right though - the lum is slightly weaker here than on Corellia."

He placed the handkerchief back into his pocket.

"What about you Tipp? No, wait - let me guess..."

Regan made a fist and lightly rubbed his bottom lip as he smiled. He clicked his fingers and pointed at Tipp playfully.

"Insurance salesman! Right?"

[Tipp Gray]

This guy was more jittery than I liked, and he openly discussed his business like it was nothing. He wouldn't make it far in his line of business if he didn't learn when to shut up. But I guess a little company was kind of nice for a change.

"Insurance salesman?" The idea was entertaining. "I'm more into marketing. I find out what the other side is selling, then I report back to my employer."

I took a swig of my ale and noticed how much lum my companion had actually drank. "The bars water down their liquor. It still gets the job done, but helps them save a few creds. Plus, it gives the clientale something to brag about."

I tried not to worry, but my contact had yet to arrive. The Empire rarely operated out here, and I was sure news of their presence would make it to me before they did. Still, there were a lot of things that could happen to a man here, especially doing business like he did.

"So, is this bacta shipment legit?" I knew it wasn't. If it was, the deal would have been done somewhere more civil. I was interested in his take on the situation, though.

[Regan Valdis]

"To be honest Tipp, I really don't know. Outside of the military, bacta's really hard to come by so chances are it's stolen. But I don't plan to hang onto it for too long. Just get it - deliver it and hit the stars again."

Regan's head snapped towards the door as a large rowdy group entered. He downed the rest of his lum.

"I've seen bacta deals my father used to make that weren't half as risky as this one but I'm kinda desperate. I need the bacta to seal this other deal - there's more profit involved with the other items but unless I have the bacta in with the shipment I don't have a deal to sell. I guess the buyer must really need it. Makes me wonder if if the buyer isn't actually working for the rebellion, or some other independent group. Either way, I don't really care. All I know is there's a lot of money involved and I think it's worth this little venture."

Regan noticed that Tipp's glass was running low.

"Hey, can I get you another one, pal?"

As he called to the girl again, three men entered the cantina. They wore the familiar shawls that draped almost every Tatooine native to keep cool. They scanned the dingy establishment, looking for someone. They stopped when their eyes caught Regan by the bar. The man in between them was indeed Regan's contact - a shady-looking fellow with a mean set of eyes and a shifty way about himself. They slowly approached from behind.

[Tipp Gray]

"Hell, why not?" I couldn't risk getting drunk, but a third drink would hardly do the trick. And if he was buying, I was drinking.

While Valdis was looking to get the tender's attention, I caught sight of three scruffy looking characters coming up behind him. I could tell the man in the middle was definitely the boss, and these were obviously the guys selling the bacta.

Regardless of their business, my hand instinctively went to my holstered blaster. If things went sour, I knew I could drop at least one of the bodyguards before they got a shot off. "Pal, looks like we've got company," I warned the merchant, hoping he would forget about the drinks and come back to the situation at hand.

[Regan Valdis]

Regan turned to Tipp, behind whom stood three subtly menacing men. He was caught off-guard as he didn't expect them to apear this early. But he wasn't overly distraught - it's not like they weren't allowed into the cantina, and they probably figured that since they were all here they might as well get down to business and be done with it.

"Regan Valdis?"

"Yeah that's me - you must be Zox right? The bacta guy? You sounded different on the comm when we spoke last month..."

"You got the file with the details and my holo didn't you?

"Oh yeah, got it just a few days ago..."

"Good - let's do this, shall we. Why don't we step outside, I'll take you to our warehouse, it's not far."

Regan smiled - a warehouse. He thought perhaps he might spy some extra items the gentleman might be interested in selling along with the bacta.

"Excellent!" replied Regan. He placed a few credit chits on the bar.

"Tipp, thanks for the chat, it was great meeting you. Get yourself a drink on me, and I'll hopefully see you around. If you're ever on Corellia, drop by the Zenic Centre and say hi to my sister, she'll be able to tell you where I am and we can have a drink or something..."

"A-hem!"

"Oh, sorry guys. Let's go."

Regan made his way towards the main doors when a hand grabbed his shoulder. Mr. Zox motioned towards the back door with his free hand.

"This way is much quicker - we'd have to go the long way round if we went through the front."

"Not a problem, Zox." Regan obliviously walked towards the back door of the cantina, with a slight bounce in his step. He failed to notice the two men behind him, flanking Zox, clutching blaster grips concealed poorly under their vests. Before he left the cantina, he glanced back quickly, giving Tipp a friendly wave.

"Remember - the Zenic Centre! Bye!"

And with that, they disappeared into the alley.

[Tipp Gray]

"Later," I mumbled to myself.

The chances of me coming across this guy again were very slim, but I still took note of what he said. Merchants like him came a cred a dozen, still, they were great sources of information.

As if on cue, a pretty young lady sat down in the seat across from me and smiled. I was a little shocked, but I kept my cool and returned her gesture with the best grin I could muster.

"Tipp Gray," she said matter of factly. "You're a hard man to find."

"Not hard enough it seems. To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss...?"

"Vance. Lola Vance."

Sithspawn! This entire time I was expecting Vance to be a hairy old man running a smuggling operation for my guys. This certainly was not a hairy old man. "It's a good thing I wasn't hiding too well then, huh?"

"We have thirty minutes to get to my ship and get off this planet." She sure didn't like to sweet talk, that's for sure.

"Well, sweetheart, that could be a problem." The situation amused me, but apparently she had been briefed on my...how do I put this? Flirtatious tendencies seems like the best way to say it. "I haven't said my goodbyes yet. Perhaps you could accompany me?"

"Not a shot," she returned coldly. "We leave, now. If not, you are stuck on this rock until one of your friends has a reason to come this far out of their way to find you. Let's go." She didn't even wait on me to respond before she stood up and headed to the door.

"Women..." the men around the table laughed as I mumbled my final word in the cantina and followed Vance out.