The human and the Zoitian drake slid into the booth inconspicuously. No one took any notice of them; they rarely did. So many different faces passed through Mos Eisley cantina that the regulars did not bother imprinting those faces upon their short-term memories. That suited Jinks just fine, for he did not aspire to be the center of attention—ever.

Not with such a monstrous price hanging above his head like a crooked halo.

The drake beside him gave a low, guttural growl as he crossed his arms over his great, armored chest. The creature was hulking, almost large enough to overpower the smoky cantina with his presence. He resembled a dragon to the "N" at the very end. His scales were gleaming black beneath his armor, the frills around his neck glittering like onyxes. The drake looked at Jinks and whispered in a rumble, "Hoods following us."

Jinks did not look up from the mug of brandy placed before him, but gripped it firmly in one hand and asked in a monotone voice, "Where."

"Just entered by the front door. Four of them, methinks, and all looking for you, sweetheart." The drake added this on the end with a little grin. "Don’t you feel popular tonight?"

"Stick a stun-rod up your ass, Freigo," Jinks snapped in response. He shifted his weight uncomfortably on his seat and looked around the cantina through his dark-tinted glasses. "Now. Through the front door, you said?"

"Six of them now," Freigo asserted. He curled his tail around one of his thick, reptilian ankles and reached out to grab a mug of brandy as a serving girl sauntered past. His eyes narrowed into little slits of topaz, still watching the entrance. "We don’t have much time. Hurry with your drink so we can high tail it out of here."

"Where’s the Georgina docked?" Jinks asked.

"Docking bay eleven." Freigo lightly tapped his clawed fingers against the table side, listening to the sound of the Model Nodes II as they played gambling music in the far corner of the cantina. "I’m dying to buy one of these tracks off of Gezeh, but she’s determined not to sell. Cheap slut—"

"Freigo! God’s sake, man, stop rambling! This diversion obviously isn’t working." He sighed and ran one tremulous hand through his thick brown hair. "All right, here’s the plan. Cover for me; I’m going to head for the Georgina now, praying to whatever it is up there that I don’t get shot down on my way. You entertain the hoods while I escape, and then follow me."

"Why is it always you who gets to head to the ship!" Freigo protested and bared his large, yellowish fangs in Jinks’ face. His broad, black wings began to unfurl, but Jinks placed a hand on his arm.

"Seriously, Freigo," he said sternly. "Who has a better chance against them? You, with blaster-proof armor and scales, plus that torpedo launcher strapped to your back, or me, a rogue knight with a second-hand lightsaber and a weak knee?" He raised one eyebrow.

Freigo twisted his reptilian face into a scowl, then brushed Jinks off of his arm with little effort. The rogue grinned and scooted out of the booth. Before he bolted through the back door, he whispered in a conspirator’s tone, "Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah," replied the hulking drake. He leaned back against the wall of the cantina and uncrossed his arms. A giant switchblade manifested itself there, as if pulled right out of the smoky air of the room. "You too," he cautioned.

Jinks left him there, then, and headed towards the back entrance stealthily. From the corner of his eye, he could see where the hoods had taken seats at the bar; they were raucously bragging to the bartender and those around them of the numerous kills they had made in the past years, reminiscing on great chases and the sound of the victims’ pleas for mercy. Jinks felt the bile rise in the back of his throat, but quelled it long enough to get through the back door and into the darkened, dry alley behind the cantina.

The night was as frigid as death, causing the hair to rise on the back of Jinks’ neck. He pulled his cloak more tightly around his frame and hurried down the alley. "God, Freigo, I hope you know what you’re doing, you stupid dolt," he whispered to the chilled night.

He caught himself before he walked into the exposed open air outside the alley, pausing to cautiously peek his head around the rounded corner and check for hoods. He felt his throat go dry.

Throughout the central plaza of Mos Eisley, the hoods were swarming the area. Their black cloaked figures intermingled with the indistinguishable shapes of other beings, standing out like weeds in a garden. Jinks sharply drew back into the sanctuary of the alley darkness and breathed, clutching at his chest with one hand while the other frenetically sought out his lightsaber in the folds of his robe. There, beside his blaster. He withdrew it and peered out around the corner again.

Two of them glided effortlessly down the dusty walking path near where he stood. He could not necessarily say that they walked. In truth, it was a Force-trick that Jinks himself could use, but not for long periods of time. He did it to fool Jedi and Sith into believing that he was one of them. They did it because they could.

He hoped the buggers couldn’t smell his anxiety on the dry wind.

Jinks pressed himself flat against the wall of the cantina and closed his eyes. Calm, he whispered to himself. Just calm down. He waited, a dark wraith hiding in the shadows, and felt their energy as it drifted past him. Still, he held himself motionless, kept his breathing silent. They continued their eerie glide, not conversing, not even communicating save for simple hand gestures.

He exhaled and slumped forward, catching himself with the wall of the other side of the alley. He leaned there for a moment and let his forehead rest on his forearm. Someone tell me why I insist on running from them, he thought with a little mirthless laugh. He rested for a moment or two longer, then gathered himself up and slipped out of the alleyway, subtly of course.

A gaggle of Twi’lek women passed him, giggling and laughing and smiling to expose their dagger-like teeth as they did so. He meandered after them, stumbling every step so to appear to the public to be a drunk following after a group of women, hoping for a little late-night action. One of the Twi’leks look over her shoulder to regard him curiously, then raised her eyebrows in laughter.

"What, boy," she teased with a saucy smile. "Think you can handle me, eh?"

"I’llsurtry," Jinks answered in a slurred tone. He let his lips part slightly, suggestively, and gave a hiccup of drunkenness. The Twi’lek girl’s expression changed from one of amusement to one of disgust, and quickly she hurried her friends along, glancing back to regard the drunken man with a frown.

Jinks continued to stumble after them until they turned and entered a bar. Then, quite easily, he straightened his robe, smoothed back his hair, and continued walking through the dusty streets as if the recent rejection had never occurred.

Plus, it didn’t matter anyway. Those lovely ladies had just led him right to where he wanted to be anyway. The docking bay was just ahead, as was his ship, the Georgina. What did it matter if a bunch of sluts didn’t want his pleasures for a night?

His communication link buzzed to life at his hip. Scrambling to silence it, he snatched it from where it was clipped and answered it.

"Jinks here," he murmured. "This you, Freigo?"

"As if it were necessary to ask," the dark, growling voice answered.

"Yeah, yeah," Jinks drawled and leaned against the wall of some random building. "So what’s up, my friend? Having trouble?"

"No, none. Hoods are still inside drinking themselves into oblivion. I’m about to take to the skies."

"You heading this way?"

"Yes. I’ll be with you in about five minutes." Freigo closed the connection.

Jinks slipped the comlink back into its holder on his belt and crossed his arms over his chest. He regarded the docking bay with a little smile. A hood meandered past the entrance across the street. Jinks made a "blaster" out of one hand, aimed at the hood, and whispered, "Bam."

The creature stumbled in its step and quickly glared over its shoulder at… whoever… and then kept walking. Jinks couldn’t suppress a grin.