[The poster reads, "Wanted; 5,000 credit reward"]
You enter a smoke-filled but quiet cantina situated in the Lower City of Taris holding a hastily hand-drawn wanted poster for a blue man. You see a portly, pale Ugnaught manning the bar, he eyes the wanted poster in your hands and motions you over, “You lookin’ ta make some money, kid? I’m puttin’ every last bit of my life savings towards that…”, he slurs while tapping the poster. “I try ta be fair ta people down here in the lowa’ city and look where it got me!”, he spreads his arms wide and motions all around the almost vacant cantina, “The name ‘Den Knurno’ used ta mean somethin’ down here! And now look at this place! Dead! Dead as my best earna!” He continues as he presses his face into his sweaty little hands, “That Rodian loan-shark really had what it took, he had that silver tongue of his ta make the deals and that muscle of his ta enforce 'em! All until that indigo idiot lost his nerve!”, he furiously starts tapping on the crudely-painted blue face on the wanted poster.
“Lemme start from the beginnin’, so there was this blue family, right? Thought they were Pantorans or somethin’… Anyway, they came down ta Lowa Taris, said they were fleein’ Chiss space for some reason or anotha’ and the old man says ta me the Rodian sent him my way. Says I was the generous investa ta see about gettin’ some capital ta start up a fabricata’s shop down here and I was more than happy ta oblige 'em!”, he smiles briefly reminiscing a good score before he returns to the present with a sour look on his face. “And ofcourse, he couldn’t pay off that loan I gave ‘em, fool didn’t know it was the kinda loan you had ta pay back in favours. We started easy enough, stash some spice in the back of ya shop for us and turna’ blind eye ta our dealers hustlin’ out front, y’know real easy stuff. But the real game there was gettin’ more boots on the ground. He had a buncha kids, So I figures he wouldn’t mind if I took one unda my wing and gave ‘em work, if anythin’ I was doin’ him a favour!”.
“Took ‘em a coupla days ta come around ta it, even had ta send the Rodian ova’ ta his shop ta remind ‘em he had obligations ta us. So he sends me one of his middle children, real loudmouth that runt but he had heart. The old man said the runt’s name was Ocalov, I don’t buy that, them Chiss always got those long stupid names but that’s neitha’ here nor there. So I take the runt and I show ‘em the ropes, kid takes ta it like a fish ta wata’ and when he got old enough, I had him work with the Rodian. We had a real good thing goin’, business was the best it eva was… And the kid was loyal just like the Rodian, loyal is what you need in this business, things don’t run smooth if I gots ta worry about some hot-head who’s gettin’ too big for his britches plannin’ ta make a play against me.”
“So I figures… if one of them Chiss did so well for me, why not shake down the old man so I can get a few more loyal employees.”, he starts tapping the side of his forehead before muttering, “But that’s where the problem started, word gets back ta Ocalov and the kid starts hasslin’ me about it, so I tells the kid that business is business and if he don’t like it, he can be happy with his family out on the street. For a good while I figures the kid came ta his senses, he kept his mouth shut and continued collectin’ with the Rodian. 'Till one day, they come back here with that week’s collection run and up outta nowhere, bang!”, the Ugnaught jumps back and mimicks an explosion with his tiny arms outstretched, “Kid blasts the Rodian in the chest and takes off with the cred-chips like a womprat hearin’ a moisture-farma’s landspeeda.”. The Ugnaught shakes his head and shouts while pounding his fist into his chest as if he had a knife, “Loved that blue runt as if he was one of my own and he stabs me in the heart like this!”.
“The Rodian and the Chiss were my best earnas, I lost ‘em both the same day and everythin’ fell apart from there. You think you can run a successful gang with no creds ta pay 'em? And if there’s no gang, then who is gonna make my collections? Who’s gonna run my protection racket!? Ain’t gonna be me, just look at me!”, the Ugnaught gestures to himself and with eyes welling up continues, “I even lost that cash flow with that Chiss family, old man figures he didn’t have ta pay me anymore and now he’s payin’ anotha’ swoop-gang for protection.” You begin to lose your patience with the Ugnaught not getting to the point, you stand up from the bar to leave as the little pig-like man is sobbing into his hands until his head shoots up.
He about-faces, wipes his eyes, clears his throat and finally starts telling you about your target, “Okay, okay, don’t twist my arm ova’ here! You’re gunnin’ for a blue man, not too tall, not too short, real average for a near-human 'cept for the blue skin, red eyes and this stupid cred symbol tattoo on his neck.”, he pauses to think before his hand wanders to his brow, “Oh! And he’s got this scar ova’ his left eye, got it workin’ for me when he was still a just little runt. If the kid’s smart he’s not goin’ ta be showin’ that stupid blue face of his 'round here, he’s not fool enough ta think even with my gang gone that I wouldn’t put all my creds on the table ta get 'em after he ruined my life!”, he can barely contain his impotent rage before he regains his composure, “Heard a rumor that some new gun, same height and build as the Chiss, was runnin’ 'round down here with a rusty helmet on his head.”, he grabs a napkin and quickly scribbles on it and hands it to you, “And last I heard, that new gun was on a shuttle ta some Czerka asteroid-base and my gut’s telling me that the Chiss ain’t stickin’ around Taris with that bounty on his head, put two and two togetha’.”
You saunter out of the smokey cantina with the poster and napkin in hand.
[The dirty napkin with the helmet sketch]