He took the glass in his hand again, trying to not actually look at the beverage he was consuming. The man pursed his lips and rocked back in his chair, watching the girl disappear behind the cantina door.
![battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks](https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2229/images/thumbnails/1024/1024-1545471210-142994605.png)
Three days of practice had not acclimated him to the vile substance. She set it down with a false smile, her irritation with the man’s intrusion tempered by the distinctive clink of credits in the pocket of her brown pants. The Twi’lek girl returned with a drink in hand - a green beverage that was disturbingly reminiscent of the liquid he had just cleaned off the table. He could swear it was staring right back at him, beckoning, teasing. The man stared at the device - and shuddered. Not even the black market would have much use for it, except for parts. The corners were worn down, the grey paint chipped away to reveal the inner metal casing. It was only a piece of technology - a somewhat obsolete form, at that - slightly larger and heavier than the standard, newer models. A long minute later, she grinned with satisfaction and returned inside.Īlone at last, the man pulled out a worn datapad from inside his grey, woolen vest. He watched the Twi’lek count the currency, her eyes straining with greed. She caught them practiced ease, grasping the chips in her slender hands. He tossed them to the young girl without comment. The man put a nonchalant foot up on the table and pulled a few credits out of his pocket. “Not you again! Not open! Too early! Come back later!” She glared at him, crossing her bare arms over her chest. She pointed a blue-skinned finger at the man. A young Twi’lek ran outside, waving her arms. Satisfied that they were nominally clean, he took a seat.Īlmost immediately, the door to the main building swung open. He looked one last time at the table and chair, making sure there was nothing else clinging to the surface. The others wouldn’t be found for at least another few hours, and even then there would be a fight before they were forced to return to the city center. The man glanced at the chrono on his wrist - he had time.
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They tore out of the entranceway towards the swamps, kicking up dust in their wake, the roar of their engines ripping through the air. Sighing, he replaced the soiled rag in his pocket, making a mental note to burn it at the first opportunity.Ī few speeder bikes raced by - the first signs of a city stirring from its languid slumber. The once-white fabric was now stained in some horrible, unnamable shade of green. He wrinkled his nose and pulled a cloth from his back pocket, wiping down the surface of both the chair and table in front of him. The surface gleamed with an oily residue, a product of the previous night’s rainfall. The man scowled and walked to a table furthest from the cantina entrance. He should have planned better, but there had been little time and too many eyes. The layers of leather material he wore were ill-suited for the climate of the planet. Sweat poured down his back as he reached the empty landing.
![battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks](https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2229/images/thumbnails/1850/1850-1570892234-806748752.png)
Satisfied that he had purged the latest toxic incursion on his body, he climbed the ramp leading to a cantina patio just inside the city gate. He paused to let out a few deep, productive coughs, making a point not to expectorate the results on the ground as he had seen the locals do so often. It seemed that the city's ever-present spectrum of noxious odors had somehow expanded overnight. He immediately regretted the action, nearly gagging in response to the assault on his olfactory senses. The man took a large breath in through his nose. Domed, pustule-like structures littered the horizon, interspersed with neon signs advertising shops, cantinas, and multitudinous forms of carnal satisfaction. He wiped his brow and turned back to the capital, passing under the fallen carcass of a tree that served as the entranceway into the city. The man stared out into the yellow-grey miasma, trying to identify the individual features of the landscape. Sunlight barely filtered through the veil of haze that wrapped the city in its stale embrace.
![battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks](https://i2.wp.com/www.modelermagic.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/SDS_DEAGOSTINI_FALCON_ARTIST_PROOF_003.jpg)
Battlefront 2 nexus scorchmarks series#
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