Blazing with intense heat, the twin suns of Tatooine, Tatoo I and Tatoo II, radiated from above Mos Shuuta. Situated on the top of a tall, rocky bluff, Mos Shuuta has nothing but endless desert in every direction around it. This city is run by Teemo the Hutt, a Cartel gangster, and not a Hutt to be trifled with, and thanks to one slimy double-crossing Trandoshan, an unlucky Mandalorian bounty huntress, did just that.
Narrowly escaping the Hutt's servants and henchmen, Ruusaan Kyr shot out of Teemo's Palace with her unlikely allies: Sektor the hunter, Arla Sion the slave, and Cor the smuggler. The temperature was testing the limits of her armor's environmental controls, but that was the least of Kyr's worries. She ran through the streets outside the palace with adrenaline rush giving her a boost and amazing time for a woman in full kit and armor.
"Utinni" a Jawa cried as Ruusaan shoved it out of her path. It was a matter of time before Teemo the Hutt's Gamorrean goons would catch up with the rouges, and Kyr wouldn't last sprinting at full speed much longer. "To the cantina," she cried. Spotting the cantina, Ruusaan seized the opportunity to hide before their enemy arrives. The Mandalorian huntress stepped down a short flight of stairs into the cantina's shadowy common room, the cool air a blessed relief from the scorching heat of Tatooine. Removing her helmet allowing her sweat-drenched blond hair to air-dry, Ruusaan took the moment of relaxation to catch her breath. Ignoring the fact she didn't look her best, the huntress scanned the inside of the establishment.
A Devaronian bartender paused in his chores to stare at the newcomers, particularly at Ruusaan, his devilish features intimidating. The huntress responded with a glare. On a stage on the far wall, a Twi'lek woman danced to recorded music, a familiar galactic hit. Private booths lined the walls, and the cantina floor is scattered with tables and chairs. Patrons gambled, squabbled, and laughed with one another. A few patrons turned from their seats to stare at the group. Ruusaan was receiving much attention from the male patrons, which continued to piss her off. The only other exit she could see from the room is what looks like to be a storage closet in the corner and a doorway behind the Twi'lek dancer. The arched roof above is supported by thick, heavy struts.
Ruusaan knew they only had a few moments to find a hiding place before Teemo's thugs arrive. What does one do in this situation? She walked over to the bartender and sat down at the bar as if nothing was wrong, because only a madwoman would do that. "Water, please."
"That will be five credits," he said with a devilish smile. Ruusaan begrudgingly obliged by setting a five credit-chip on the counter after the Devaronian handed her a cold glass of water. "Mos Shuuta's finest for only the finest lady ever to visit this cantina." Ruusaan rolled her eyes at the bartender's comment, avoiding the sappy pick-up line and the fact this creep was hitting on her, in different circumstances she might have ripped out his trachea. The Mandalorian slowly drank the entire glass as a patron in the booth behind her watched silently. He reached in his pocket and quietly pulled out a comlink whispering commands to an unknown source.
Narrowly escaping the Hutt's servants and henchmen, Ruusaan Kyr shot out of Teemo's Palace with her unlikely allies: Sektor the hunter, Arla Sion the slave, and Cor the smuggler. The temperature was testing the limits of her armor's environmental controls, but that was the least of Kyr's worries. She ran through the streets outside the palace with adrenaline rush giving her a boost and amazing time for a woman in full kit and armor.
"Utinni" a Jawa cried as Ruusaan shoved it out of her path. It was a matter of time before Teemo the Hutt's Gamorrean goons would catch up with the rouges, and Kyr wouldn't last sprinting at full speed much longer. "To the cantina," she cried. Spotting the cantina, Ruusaan seized the opportunity to hide before their enemy arrives. The Mandalorian huntress stepped down a short flight of stairs into the cantina's shadowy common room, the cool air a blessed relief from the scorching heat of Tatooine. Removing her helmet allowing her sweat-drenched blond hair to air-dry, Ruusaan took the moment of relaxation to catch her breath. Ignoring the fact she didn't look her best, the huntress scanned the inside of the establishment.
A Devaronian bartender paused in his chores to stare at the newcomers, particularly at Ruusaan, his devilish features intimidating. The huntress responded with a glare. On a stage on the far wall, a Twi'lek woman danced to recorded music, a familiar galactic hit. Private booths lined the walls, and the cantina floor is scattered with tables and chairs. Patrons gambled, squabbled, and laughed with one another. A few patrons turned from their seats to stare at the group. Ruusaan was receiving much attention from the male patrons, which continued to piss her off. The only other exit she could see from the room is what looks like to be a storage closet in the corner and a doorway behind the Twi'lek dancer. The arched roof above is supported by thick, heavy struts.
Ruusaan knew they only had a few moments to find a hiding place before Teemo's thugs arrive. What does one do in this situation? She walked over to the bartender and sat down at the bar as if nothing was wrong, because only a madwoman would do that. "Water, please."
"That will be five credits," he said with a devilish smile. Ruusaan begrudgingly obliged by setting a five credit-chip on the counter after the Devaronian handed her a cold glass of water. "Mos Shuuta's finest for only the finest lady ever to visit this cantina." Ruusaan rolled her eyes at the bartender's comment, avoiding the sappy pick-up line and the fact this creep was hitting on her, in different circumstances she might have ripped out his trachea. The Mandalorian slowly drank the entire glass as a patron in the booth behind her watched silently. He reached in his pocket and quietly pulled out a comlink whispering commands to an unknown source.