Head to the cantina.

Night had fallen over Taris by the time you finally leave the apartment complex, granting you an impressive view of the ecumenopolis' glittering skyline. Spires that could rival Coruscant in their magnificence stretched across in all directions, bringing life to the urban jungle that the outdated game could never fully capture. Countless humans filled the streets as the Tarisians continued about their business as usual despite the numerous Sith patrols making their rounds but thankfully, they were easy to avoid in the crowds. Of course, this living and breathing city made it far more tedious for you to find the cantina Carth has been frequenting but with the help of the ****, you make your way to that familiar bar.

The heavy dual doors slide open revealing the hustle and bustle of more than just a cantina. A better description would be a gambler's lounge. Numerous pazaak and dice tables filled the main room and a circular bar occupied its center. Off to your right and left were smoking and sitting rooms, and towards the back you noted a betting station for the local dueling arena. The air itself was filled with the acrid odor of expensive cigars, both local and off-world, and the heavy din of a Friday night drowned out whatever music was being played over the speakers. In the meantime, you make your way over to the bar for a drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Carth chatting away one of the locals and upon making eye contact with you, he gives you a subtle nod. You return it curtly when you're approached by the bartender, a smartly dressed man with slicked-back hair.

"What can I start for you tonight?" he asks in that quirky local accent.

"Top shelf, your recommendation for something smooth. Keep it neat," you tell him as you slide a credit chit across the bar.

"As you say sir."

He takes your chit and gets to work on your drink while you take a moment to properly scan the crowd. Not a single alien in sight, you note. Then again it was to be expected. The upper city of Taris was infamous for its xenophobia. In fact, the only aliens you could pick out were a trio of dancing twi'leks in the smoking lounge performing one of the oldest dances in the history of civilization. You could only shake your head in amusement at the hypocrisy of Taris' ruling elite. Not that much different from the wealthy back home, you supposed.

"Would you like to start a tab, sir?" asks the bartender as he hands you a glass of amber liquid.

"Yes please. Put it under Michael."

He thanks you and tends to another patron as you begin scoping out potential contacts. You had old men and women sipping on Tarisian wine, rowdy young adults knocking back shots at a pazaak table as they gamble away their family's money, and a group of off-duty Sith harassing a poor waitress. You frown as you take a sip of your drink, the **** giving a pleasant, warming burn on your throat as you contemplate hitting up the dueling arena instead of prowling the crowd until you catch the green eyes of a redheaded woman glancing over to you.

She was slim in her build, though the slight strain of muscle beneath her clothes suggested she had a well-trained physique, and her hair was tied back into a tight bun. She was seated alone at a table close to the wall, her long, creamy legs crossed at the knee while she sipped at a clearer, iced drink garnished with mint. Your eyes briefly roam over her body as you take another sip of your liquor, and when they find her eyes again she gives you a coy, coquettish smile. Deciding you found your mark, you take your drink and move to join her, slipping smoothly past the other patrons with the charm of a true scoundrel.

"Excuse me miss but is this seat taken?" you ask her.

"I believe it is now," she answers playfully. "I haven't seen you around here before, and I've been coming in every week since I was stationed up at the base. Of course, they don't give us Sith officers much time off anymore..."

"You're from the base?" you ask with a brow raised. "You know I think I prefer you Sith outside of your uniforms instead."

"I'm surprised you're still talking to me at all. Most of the people here on Taris can't stand us Sith. It can make a job like this one pretty lonely."

"Well here I am," you say with a smirk. "What are your other two wishes?"

She giggles as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Taking me off of this backwater posting and out to the front lines would be a good start. I signed up to fight, not police a bunch of snobby nobles. My name is Sarna by the way, Junior First Class with the Sith occupational ****, or did you forget your manners when you came over to flirt with me?"

"Can you really blame a man captivated by the presence of a strong woman? Pleased to meet you Sarna. I'm Michael."

"So then Michael, tell me about yourself. You're obviously not a local otherwise you'd be staring at me with utter hate in your eyes."

"Not much to say," you begin as you spin a story. "I work as a supplier for industrial companies in the local cluster; droids, heavy equipment, that sort of thing. The business was going well until the blockade started, and I've been stuck here since."

"Huh. An off-worlder then. I figured you'd be even angrier with us, what with being stuck on a foreign planet and all."

"True, I could be royally pissed, but that's a choice, so I'll choose instead to make the most of it. If anything, I look at this as an unplanned vacation. Good drink, good food, and good company is something I'll never turn down. With us both being strangers on a strange planet, it'd be better for us to stick together wouldn't you say?"

"Exactly!" Sarna agrees, immediately perking up. "It's like everyone on this backwater hovel is in a permanent bad mood. Don't they know how to make the best of things? I mean, it's not like I asked to get stationed in the boonies version of Coruscant but I do my best to stay positive. Gods above are you a breath of fresh air. This post can get pretty depressing at times."

"I guess your commission isn't quite as exciting as you hoped?"

"Ugh, don't get me started," Sarna begins as she takes another sip of her drink. "I was among the top of my class at the Academy. My marks were in the leading 2 percentile. I should be commanding a cruiser of my own, but instead here I am organizing patrols headed down into the Undercity searching for some random Jedi knight that most likely died in the ambush a few days ago. It's not like anyone can survive down there anyway. The whole place is infested with rakghouls so I doubt there's even a body to find."

Bastila had landed in the worst possible place for her, you knew this, but knowing how Taris was far more authentic than it was depicted in the game, you shuddered at the thought of confronting those mutants in the flesh. More importantly, if the population you've seen of the Upper City was any indication, you could expect literal swarms of the beasts down at ground level.

"At least the bars are still open for business. It gives you the perfect opportunity to blow off some steam," you offer.

"That's true, I suppose. If nothing else, these Tarisians do know how to make a good ale. It certainly helps with the loneliness."

The conversation then turns to small talk and banter as the both of you enjoy each other's company. Inch by inch, you'd scoot a little closer to her and she welcomed the closer proximity. One drink turned to two, and soon enough a third was being shared. This was of little concern for you however, as being a God you were able to purge the **** in your system before it could properly take effect. Sarna on the other hand had no such advantage. She was pink in the face and rocking back and forth in her chair. Every now and then she'd lean into you for support and at some point, she even ended up sitting in your lap.

The combination of her perfume and the spirits on her breath made for a heady aroma. This, coupled with the warmth of her body, created an atmosphere that stirred at your libido. You didn't even care about the pointed stares you were getting from the other patrons, but how could they not? The intoxicated officer was beginning to nibble at your neck in plain view whilst straddling your growing dick. Frisky.

"What do you say we take this somewhere more private?" you whisper into her ear.

"Mmmmmmm, what did you have in mind?" she throatily responds.

"Your place. Unless you'd rather I just throw you onto this table right here and now?"

"Hah. You wouldn't have the guts to do something that brazen but as sexy as that would be, it would also prompt somebody to interrupt our fun. C'mon; this place is starting to bore me."

Day one out and about in Taris and you were going to lay yet another woman. You smirk to yourself as Sarna jumps off your lap and leads you to the door by the arm. You catch Carth's eye on the way out and he simply shakes his head in amusement, having seen you chatting up a Sith officer and assuming you had a lead for your mission. He taps at the communicator on his wrist, reminding you to check in once you've taken care of business. Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn't; after all, an opportunity had presented itself. All that mattered was getting access to the Lower City, and this frustrated officer was your ticket.