[center][h2]The Criminal[/h2][/center]

	[b]Jouren was surrounded by enemies. As he whipped out his blaster pistol and snuck another glance at the woman beside him, all he could think was that it was good to be back. While being a fugitive was something new, his life had hardly gotten duller. He was in a tough spot, sure, but with a blaster in his hand and a beautiful woman beside him, he couldn't go wrong. "Come out now, scum. There's ten of us, and one of you. No way to get out of this," The hitman shouted to him, "I’m feeling generous, so I'll give you one chance to get out of this alive. Come out with your hands up." Jouren thought for a bit, before shouting his response back: "[color=0072bc]No thank you![/color]" And with that, he leaped out.[/b]

[center][h3][i]TALINN DISTRICT - TARIS[/i][/h3][/center]

	"We've arrived." The transport's pilot growled, jolting Jouren from his slumber and ending his dreams. He rubbed his eyes and donned his helmet with a sigh. He had very rarely removed it since his change in status, but the flight to Taris had been a lonely one. Jouren even being the lone passenger. Jouren even had to pay extra credits just to get the pilot to fly him here, what with the lack of other passengers. Thankfully, business for the pilot was slow, and as Jouren took one more look at his passage to anonymity, it was obvious why; the ship was a hunk of junk. Not to mention the ride had been a turbulent one, and had it not been for Jouren's complete exhaustion, the pilot's lack of skill likely would've caused him to not sleep at all. "That means get out." snapped the pilot, snapping Jouren out of his inner monologue and forcing him to pick up his small amount of luggage and face his new life.

	Jouren stepped off of the transport, and at once a wave of nausea struck him as the stench of the wasteland wormed its way through his helmet's filter. Not one to linger in unpleasant situations, he moved deeper into the city. As Jouren began to move farther into the ecumenopolis, he began gazing up at the massive towers that loomed above him. He caught a glimpse of a significantly more lavish-looking transport than the one he arrived on landing on a well-maintained landing pad and sighed, remembering his more luxurious days as a crime lord. Before the Empire decided to come after him. Before he had to flee to this damned place.

Jouren, after an unnecessary amount of searching, finally pinpointed a cantina where he could hopefully find the answer to his sorrows at the bottom of a glass. As he pushed open the swinging doors and began facing the glares of the patrons of the establishment he realized that this may not have been the wisest decision. However his anxieties were silenced as he reassured himself that none of the inhabitants of this hellhole had probably even heard of him, so the idea of them actively searching for him was preposterous. The heels of his boots sounded across the cold hard floor as he made his way deeper into the cantina, finally deciding on a quiet booth in the back. Jouren slumped down at first, but sat up as a some-what bland Twi’lek waitress began making her way over to him. “Can I help you with anything?” She asked him, her dull eyes matching her tone. “[color=0072bc]I’ll have whatever’s strongest.[/color]” The waitress barked a harsh laugh, before silencing herself. “If you say so.” She walked off without another word. Now that he had some space, Jouren took the opportunity to listen to some of the conversations around him. “L-Listen, I’ll get you the m-money! I just need a little time!” He smiled under the helmet’s dark facade. It had been a while since he heard that line. He quickly shifted his attention to a different exchange of hushed murmurs. -“Word is, everyone there was either turned into swiss cheese by blasterfire or melted by the radiation.”
-“Damn. I was only a week from starting there, too. What do you think it was?”
-“Must’ve been an army. There’s no way in hell one man who did that.”
-“As long as I’m not on the receiving end of it.” 
	Jouren turned his attention back to the waitress as she reappeared with a glass filled with some sort of murky swill. “Well?” He looked up at her. “[color=0072bc]This is it?[/color]” She extended her hand. Jouren dropped a credit chip into her hand and removed his helmet, ignoring the stare he undoubtedly received from her. She left without another word, and Jouren put his head in his hands as the hopelessness of his situation began to set in.