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    Aurelias Kazaar's Avatar
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    Living Half of a Life

    Eight years before 'The Battle of Endor': Zolan

    He sat in the cantina, enjoying a not-so-great bit of alcohol which th'barkeeper had sworn was Alderaanian Ruge. If it was, he smirked, it wasn't a good variety. It briefly flashed through his mind how ironic it was...him caring about what kind of alcohol it was, since for the last year, he hadn't really give a damn 'bout the booze he drank or the quantity he took in either.

    In all honesty, he'd never been one who'd cared how much he had t'drink, but he always figured out ways t'keep it from getting the best of him. Now...it was all he had t'keep himself from beatin' the hell outta everyone in the galaxy.

    He shifted position in the uncomfortable booth he sat in wishing th'spring wasn't sticking into his back. Vimus wasn't one who replaced his seats that often, although for th'most part he served a good drink (even if this drink was awful).

    "'Ey Vimus!" he called from his seat, "What th'hell izzit gonna take f'you t'liven this place up."

    There was a laugh. "Lillie goes on in two hours, Kazaar. That should 'liven things up'."

    Aurelias Kazaar smirked. Lillie was a human (okay she said she was human, she was prolly a Clawdite) dancer Vimus used t'entertain his guests. She had moves...not just the ability t'dance...but she was fluid, graceful, and gorgeous.

    Pale-white hair normally fell down to th'small of her back, but there were times she had it up so patrons/ooglers could drool over their drinks. And the former bounty hunter'd been doin' plenty of that the last year.

    Kazaar'd never bothered t'figure out why he was doin' it (he wasn't a shrink and didn't want t'be one) but it was prolly 'cause 'Lillie' reminded him of his dead partner.

    She'd been dead 'bout a year now and the bastard who'd killed her was still on the loose. Ashley'd been the one who kept Kazaar 'in check', the one who'd tempered his hardness and penchant for destruction with brutal honesty and a hardness of her own. They weren't lovers, though they'd shared beds before, but they were kindred spirits who understood each other. Gorgja'd introduced 'em together, something Kazaar was ever grateful (and hateful) for. If the Hutt hadn't've introduced 'em, they prolly wouldn't have been friends and maybe...maybe the Brentaal-raised Alderaanian could've avoided how he felt now.

    Lost...empty...alone.

    It was a gnawing feeling, something which wouldn't leave him, no matter how much he drank. 'Course it kept him 'in check' so he didn't hafta worry 'bout that too much.

    Only times he kept himself (relatively) sober was when Vimus needed something. And th'old Zolander needed plenty o'help at times. 'Specially when those Clawdite gangsters had tried t'rough the place up a bit ago. He'd gone t'Kazaar (who by reputation was known for his brutality) for help.

    And Kazaar, pretty much, drank free from then on. Oh...he still got charged f'it...but he never saw an invoice. He wasn't really sure who paid for his drinks...maybe it was Vimus, maybe it was 'Lillie' (he'd helped 'er out a couple times too).

    After all...he normally just sat 'n drank and didn't raise too much of a fuss. Unless someone tried t'mess with either 'Lillie' or Vimus, then there's be a lotta trouble.

    But people would come t'him with bounties from time t'time, especially Gorgja.

    The Hutt still hoped his former #2 hunter would start workin' again...and not just 'cause of the money he brought in. It was th'fact Gorgja actually cared (as much as he could) about Kazaar. He hated t'see him dying inside. But he could only help Kazaar if Kazaar wanted him to.

    Which he didn't.

    Even so...Gorgja knew this bounty was a good one for the drunk bounty hunter. The tall, slightly muscular man raised his alcohol-hazed black eyes towards the entrance t'the saloon as the couple came in. They weren't much, the woman looked as though she were completely out of place here and the husband wasn't someone who prolly visitted places like this either.

    More'n likely, Kazaar figured, they'd minded their own as much as possible. Wifey prolly did needlepoint or something.

    They came towards Kazaar, their eyes flicking from one of the bar to another.

    Then the couple stopped before the bounty hunter's booth and the husband spoke in a hushed, nervous tone.

    "Y-you're Kazaar right?" A puff of smoke from Kazaar and he motioned his head for th'two t'take a seat. "W-we need y-your help, sir."

    He still didn't speak, so the husband took it as a comment t'continue.

    The wife picked something out of her pocket. It was a photo of a young girl, no more than eight. Her wide, blue eyes were full of life and she was missing a tooth from her mouth.

    "Thi-this is our daughter... Slavers t-took her three days ago.

    "W-will you find her?"

    A sip from his drink.

    "Why?" Kazaar's guttural voice shook the two. "What'd you guys do t'deserve it?"

    The woman was distraught...sure wasn't fakin'. "NOTHING!" she almost shouted, "She...she was taken from school. She's only seven!

    "I don't know why!" the woman wailed.

    The husband spoke, "We don't know, sir. We-we-don't know. Please...we'll pay you what you want, even though we don't have much.

    "Gorgja said y-you would help us."

    Kazaar took a drink from his glass finishing the 'ruge'. Gorgja always knew what bounties Kazaar'd take these days. And payment made it a bit better.

    "What's 'er name?"

    The husband had hope in his voice, "Kammi."

    A puff from th'cigar and a nod. "Awright...gimme three days. You'll get 'er back."
    Last edited by Aurelias Kazaar; Jan 12th, 2008 at 10:11:39 PM. Reason: Fixed time period and did a slight re-write


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