Most recently, his choice to join the New Republic.
He's all over the place, now. Hunting down Imperial war criminals, attempting to help the fledgling Republic stabilize itself, identify the major threats, find ways to resolve them. It sounds shady, but here's the thing: it's not supposed to be. Everyone's so bloody moral. It's all about doing the right thing.
It leaves Sinjir adrift sometimes.
Right now, he's on his own. Observing, really; gathering information about the rumored Ba'al, who was quickly shaping up to be a major power broker in this sector. Another criminal faction is challenging Ba'al.
And Sinjir is here to get drunk and listen. He sips at something green-colored that the bartender gave him, looks disgusting, smells bizarre, tastes not bad at all. This is when he spots another patron in the bar, a man well-dressed in rich fabric, and he feels a shock of recognition. Hadad, he thinks. Ba'al's right-hand man.
He could be subtle, and make sure that Hadad doesn't notice him. But, he instinctively decides to take a different tactic, and let his eyes linger obviously on the man, long enough to be noticed. He could play it off as flirtation or sexual interest if pressed. He plays his drink between his fingers, considering his next move.
This is when the door explodes, and several masked figures carrying blasters burst into the room.
no subject
Most recently, his choice to join the New Republic.
He's all over the place, now. Hunting down Imperial war criminals, attempting to help the fledgling Republic stabilize itself, identify the major threats, find ways to resolve them. It sounds shady, but here's the thing: it's not supposed to be. Everyone's so bloody moral. It's all about doing the right thing.
It leaves Sinjir adrift sometimes.
Right now, he's on his own. Observing, really; gathering information about the rumored Ba'al, who was quickly shaping up to be a major power broker in this sector. Another criminal faction is challenging Ba'al.
And Sinjir is here to get drunk and listen. He sips at something green-colored that the bartender gave him, looks disgusting, smells bizarre, tastes not bad at all. This is when he spots another patron in the bar, a man well-dressed in rich fabric, and he feels a shock of recognition. Hadad, he thinks. Ba'al's right-hand man.
He could be subtle, and make sure that Hadad doesn't notice him. But, he instinctively decides to take a different tactic, and let his eyes linger obviously on the man, long enough to be noticed. He could play it off as flirtation or sexual interest if pressed. He plays his drink between his fingers, considering his next move.
This is when the door explodes, and several masked figures carrying blasters burst into the room.