Kamda

It was another quiet night. Everyone was off plotting in one corner of the city or another. Jaxom might have even been in one or two of those meetings. Now, however, he was back at Korso's, wiping down the bar while C77 was off getting an oil bath.

The sound of the door opening brought attention to a rugger man with a blaster on his hip. Looking around the bar the passed his prime gentleman found his way to the bar and sat down, casually scanning the room.

"Good evening. Welcome to Korso's." Jax smiled as he wiped the spotless bar clean by habit and set down a coaster. "What can I get for you.?"

"This is really it, isn't it.." he said, taking in the sight once more. "I'll.. I'll have well, whatever really. I knew a man names Korso once, good man.. good man."

He reached for a bottle of whiskey, but changed his mind and took the whiskey from an upper shelf.

"That can be difficult, being a good man." he filled a glass and set it down.

"Certainly can," he said, laying his hands out flat on the table and thinking back to the days. "Especially where we're from, you know. Hard people for a hard life, I suppose," he took the glass and "tipped his hat" though he wore none, to Jaxom.

"Sometimes, all you can do is survive." he nodded and poured a glass for himself. "And, hope you can do something the next time things get difficult for you and yours."

"Yea," he said, taking a drink from the glass and hitting it back hard. Nodding to Jaxom another bit of respect. "Now.. seems that these Kamdan's are about to get the ol' Bellionassian treatment.." he looked down into his drink.

"Yeah." he sighed. "Things are about to get very difficult around here. Unfortunately, I'm not sure there's much that can be done about that."

"Shame.." he said, playing with his glass. "You been back home recently?"

"I have not." he shook his head. "Leaving once was hard enough. Have you?"

"It's.." he shook his head, looked grim, "It's not good. Home is.. it's a different place. Most of the people their hang their heads low, try not to get noticed. Grind out in factories and listen to what the Empire tells them. It's.. it's different, it's not quite home anymore."

He frowned and looked around. Kamda was starting to look more like that every day. "What's your name, friend?"

"Navarr," he said, "Yours?"

"Jaxom. Jaxom Ursae." he refilled their glasses. "Tell me about your Korso."

"Good man, fighter.. fought hard in the war, and probably would have fought harder today but.. he left us some time ago. Lucky for him he didn't see what the galaxies become," he said, ruefully. "Wish he coulda been here.. woulda fought with a man like that against almost anything."

"It's getting harder to fight." he sighed. "Hard to see the point."

"Yea.." he shrugged, "but then.. I don't know, I think of home and I just.. I think I'd rather die fighting for anything than wind up like that."

"Are you going to fight, then?" he asked. "What's your plan for that?"

"I don't quite know," he said, looking down into his glass. "I might.. just to stop myself from wasting away. Older a bit now, never did settle down," he knocked back the rest of what was left in his glass and set it down.

In the back, a man entered the establishment. Wearing a dark suit as he approached the bar.