Cad Bane - The Concept of Trust

Stealing it back: Part V / VI

"Sit. Down." Bane's growling voice would have made a Gundark to cower.

Nevar raised his hand slightly, admitting his defeat for now. He went to sit, collecting one of the chairs that were laying all across the floor, and lifting a table up. The half-empty bar was now completely void of any customers, but them. Only the barkeeper was left, and Bane walked to him, giving Nevar a premonitory glance to assure that the man wouldn't even consider trying anything anymore. Some credits later Bane had persuaded the bartender not to call any security, and came back to the table. Nevar still had a hateful gleam in his eyes, as he was holding his temple that was swelling fast, much in the same way as Bane's blood-stained cheek.

Bane had a bottle of unrecognizable hooch with him, and sat down in front of Nevar, keeping his blaster visible. The wiry bounty hunter, and the towering mercenary stared at each other in total silence. Bane helped himself, filling the only glass he had brought to the table to the brim, and swigged the first glass down by one fell swoop, sneering at the taste before speaking.

"What do you think it will help, if you run around aimlessly like a kriffing schoon, asking if there have been ships falling down from the sky? Drawing that kind of attention when the Empire's transporter has just been attacked is just idiotic, hotshot, if you don't have any idea whom to ask."

Nevar moved uneasily in his chair, catching his point, and Bane continued.

"Todo takes care of scanning and hailing attempts from the Justifier. I have left the word to sellers and smugglers I know to keep their ears open, if someone comes to buy parts for YT-2400, or if she comes by. We will wait here for any word, because I am not going to use comms here with those dealers, and like hell I am giving anyone the coordinates where the Justifier is, just in case." Bane eyed the man across the table.

"Now, we wait."

Hours passed in silence, and though Bane tried to keep his demeanor indifferent, the fast disappearing booze, glances to the door, and continuous checking of the comm module gave a hint of what was going on behind the deadpan eyes. Nevar did not drink, but as he watched the Duros consuming over a third of the bottle, he felt that his life was hanging on all the time thinning thread, and he would be a goner in a second if he'd give the bounty hunter even half a reason. And still, even after drinking all that, the Duros didn't seem to lose any of his edge. Bane's fingers were constantly tapping the hilt of his gun, and if the bounty hunter was not checking the door or his comm, his eyes turned to Nevar, like he was trying to decide what was more enticing; the credits, or getting rid of the mercenary in front of him.

Finally Nevar rose slowly from the chair. Bane's gun was immediately pointed at him, though it was resting on his lap.

"I am not going to run anywhere... Just going to the counter." He tilted his head toward the bartender. For a moment he thought Bane would shoot him, just because he was ired as hell when occasionally rubbing his cheek.

"You'll get your credits," the merc said, as that is all you seem to care about, he thought, but was not going to say it out loud. Hell no.

He could feel the Duros' eyes on his back, but for some reason he trusted what Bane had said earlier, that shooting someone on the back wasn't exactly his style, though there was a nagging feeling it wasn't a completely unfamiliar move for the Duros. Nevar got his order from the bartender and walked back to the table, throwing a bag of carbonite cubes in front of Bane, having a similar one for himself, and went to sit. Bane scowled, when staring at both Nevar and the bag, but eventually he picked it up, and both men continued their strained silence, cooling both their bruises as well as their heads.