The Coruscant underworld, best known for its toxic fumes and lack of sunlight, my two least favorite things, and yet, here I was. "What the hell am I still doing here," I thought to myself as I sat under the bright neon lights of The Galactic Cantina, some seedy bar god knows how deep under Coruscant. Three pale Bith play music behind me as I sat in the bar. Two bright green Rodians chatted next to me, I couldn't understand them. The sound of low laughs, grunts, and breaking bottles surround me as I stare at my glass. These places always seemed to make me edgy, and my hand never strayed far from my holster. I took another drink.
"I killed myself two shiners yesterday," Some loudmouth lizard exclaimed, spit flying from his slit tongue. "Hardly put up a fight as I ripped out their throat." He roared with laughter, ending with a hiss. His scaly skin shone green in the light. He had been drinking for almost two hours now, recounting all his "encounters" with republic clones from the past ten years it seemed. As the time went on, his stories grew more and more outrageous, but despite his slimy appearance and his infuriating enunciation of the letter "S," he had drawn a small crowd of criminals, laughing or shouting every time he told them an especially gruesome tale. It seemed that all the low life in the city had crawled out from their sewers just to be here. I wished that toad would shut up. As I threw my head back and took another drink, I heard his raspy voice call out. "Hey, what's the matter, you don't like my stories?" I kept staring at my glass, hoping he wasn't talking to me. I heard the chair scrape as he got up. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" I looked up and turned my head slightly to the right to look at him. He was at least 250 pounds of pure muscle, with long, gnashing teeth and black, sharp claws. His yellow beady eyes stared me down as he slowly walked towards me. The talk quieted as he got closer to where I sat, both Rodians to my left got up and left hurriedly. I didn't move a muscle. "What is it bone bag," his voice quieted to a dangerous tone, "you a Republic sympathizer?" He was right next to me now, the music had stopped playing. I stared back into his ugly, scarred face. "I would back off if you know what's good for you." I spoke in almost a whisper; my hand crept back to my blaster. He reared his head back and roared with laughter. "Do you know who I am scum? I've eaten Gamorreans twice the size of you."
"And probably twice as handsome as you too," I chimed in. I heard a couple of the braver customer's chuckle, but it soon died down, and the bar was quiet as a grave. "His face drew closer to mine, and I could smell the terrible scent of rotting fish in his breath. A long, pale scar ran down his face. "I don't think I've ever eaten a Human before," he hissed, "I wonder what they taste like."
In an instant, he slammed his scaly hand down on the bar with his right hand, extending his left towards my throat, his claws ready to tear into my flesh. I jumped back out of my bar stool, reacting on instinct, his mad grab missed by inches. As he reared for another attack, I lifted my arm, pointing at him with the palm of my hand, fingers outstretched. He flew with a mighty crash against the back wall of the bar, barely missing a wide eyed patron, cracking the concrete. Everyone in the room stared in astonishment as he slumped to the floor, and became even more shocked as he slowly began to rise again, floating in midair. He slowly drifted towards me, feet a couple inches off the ground, desperately grabbing at his throat, gasping for breath. I pinched my outstretched fingers closer together, and I could see the life slowly draining from him. I brought his ugly face closer to mine, his yellow eyes wide with fear and confusion. "They never believe me," I said conversationally, " especially the stupid goons like you," I told him as I casually reached for my blaster. It was a DL-44, newly stolen from some other dumb thug in a bar not so different from this one. I aimed, raising the barrel inches from his face, and pulled the trigger. A bright flash of light filled the room and droplets of blood flew as he fell to floor with a loud crunch.
For a while, everyone was still, and silence filled the room. I looked up to see the bartender, a rather small Quarren, staring at me. He spoke in awe, "What are you some kind of Jedi?" I looked away.
"I'm no Jedi," I replied as the Bith began to play again. Within seconds, everything seemed like it was before, except that there was now a bloody mess of scales on the floor, and no one dared look at me. "I really need to get out of this system," I thought to myself as I took another drink.