Taproom Tipple

Posted on Sun Jul 12th, 2026 @ 4:58pm by Reave & Kalen "Rex" Vickers & Mentis
Edited on on Mon Jul 13th, 2026 @ 1:56pm

2,123 words; about a 11 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IX: The First Verse
Location: Xagobah Taproom, Dunari's Delight, Mayagil Sector
Timeline: Day Ten, Midday (After "A Clash of Plasma"))

By the station’s chronometer it was just past midday on the Dunari’s Delight station and the convincing artificial light was at its brightest. Yet, in the Xagobah Taproom, which sat wedged between a row of kiosks on the main mezzanine of the trade hub, almost everything had that ever-so-slightly phoney vibe that haunted many an establishment situated in a transport hub. Nevertheless, it was unmistakably charming and, much like everything on the collaborative sector station, it was safe and clean.

Inside, the owner had worked hard to imitate an offworlder-friendly taste of Xagobah to the point of being a little tasteless; the walls were lined with faux wooden panels etched with Xamster folk motifs and the bar was decorated with mismatched mugs, old mining helmets, and a holo projector looping scenic vistas of Xagobah’s fungal forests. A well meaning, over enthusiastic Xamster bartender scurried back and forth on his many limbs, making conversation and pushing the specials of the day.

Mentis and Rex had chosen a booth tucked into a corner beneath a hanging planter of suspiciously plastisynth-looking vines. It was quiet enough to let them sink into the background noise and share a moment of normality. Mentis nursed a drink that tasted vaguely of citrus, letting the coolness settle him. Rex sat opposite, shoulders hunched, his eyes drifting now and then to the viewport where ships came and went in steady procession. Neither spoke much. After Mos Entha and the panic of Sleheyron, normal life operating around them seemed like a luxury.

Mentis put his glass down and sat up straighter, feeling something or someone was watching them. Rex saw him stiffen and cocked his head in a silent query.

“There’s someone watching us,” Mentis murmured, panning his gaze across the room until it reached the open doorway that led out to the mezzanine balcony. He stopped as he found the source of the disturbance: it was that green-skinned Twi’lek girl Jiljoo. She was peering in, while chatting to an Ithorian beside her. She hesitated, then smiled when the Rattataki’s face turned toward her.

She gave an exaggerated wave towards them.

“I thought zat’ was you!”

The Ryloth accented call carried easily over the lunchtime chatter.

She began plodding towards them, beckoning her other companions in with her: a small cluster of mis-matched sentients, most fairly young, trailed behind her.

Jiljoo beamed as though she had just spotted long lost friends.

“Mister Mentis and Mister Vickers,” she announced their names a little too loudly for either of their likings, “I am so glad you are still here on ze’ station. I av’ been telling everyone about Bomoor’s crew and how you av’ been fighting zis’ evil cult. It would be good to hear some of it first hand, of course, and perhaps we can share some of our own stories with you.”

She looked back at her companions, most of which held back either sheepishly or cautiously, at least compared to the bold young woman. She did not seem to need any permission, however.

“May we join you?” she asked, simply.

Mentis opened his mouth and drew in a hasty breath as though to answer, but only managed a stretched, “Uh,” before looking towards Rex.

Rex blinked.

For a moment he simply stared at Jiljoo, caught slightly off-guard by the enthusiastic greeting and the bright smile that accompanied it. He had met plenty of Twi'leks in his life, mostly on Nar Shaddaa, and most of those encounters had ended with somebody trying to sell him something, rob him, recruit him into a criminal enterprise, or all three simultaneously. This was considerably more pleasant.

His expression recovered quickly enough and his own easy grin spread across his face as he sat up a little straighter in the booth.

"Well, when you put it like that..." he said, glancing briefly towards Mentis before looking back to the gathered group. "Why, of course. The fine crew of Bomoor welcomes any friendly guests." He placed a hand dramatically against his chest. "At least until he gets back and finds out we're letting strangers into top-secret meetings."

The smile widened into something a little more roguish.

"I'll deal you in."

The dark-skinned Human gestured towards the remaining seats around the booth and the neighbouring table they had already partially annexed for their game of pazaak. A collection of cards, credits and empty glasses were scattered across its surface, evidence that Rex had already been relieving Mentis of his few credits for some time now.

"Though I should warn you all," he added, leaning back in his chair, "I'm having a bit of a lucky streak today. Statistically speaking, you're all making a terrible financial decision."

The statement had barely left his mouth when several members of the approaching group suddenly jolted in alarm. Something small and surprisingly fast shot between them at knee height.

A tray laden with food, drinks and several items of extremely questionable origin hurtled through the taproom with all the grace of a low-flying landspeeder.

"Uttini!"

The cry came a fraction of a second before Reave emerged from beneath the edge of his enormous hat, somehow balancing the overloaded tray as he skidded around a chair leg and slid directly into the empty space beside Rex. The Jawa dumped the collection of foodstuffs onto the table with obvious satisfaction.

A steaming bowl of something orange, three drinks, a half-eaten pastry, an entire plate of fried fungi and, inexplicably, a decorative candle.

Reave looked around proudly whilst Rex stared at the collection, then at Reave, then back at the collection again.

"...Did you pay for any of that?"

Reave's glowing eyes disappeared beneath the shadow of his hat. The Jawa then gave a slow, thoughtful tilt of his head.

"Right," sighed Rex. "That'll be a 'no', then."

There was a sudden stunted squeak from the far counter and then the scurrying sound of multiple small limbs coming in their direction.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" the Xamster bartender exclaimed, pointing at Reave's haul with two of his six limbs, "That tray is not for this table. That is booth seven’s order and..." he squeaked again and added another arm to his frantic gesture, "...you've already taken a bite out of their fungipuff pastry! What do you have to say for yourself?"

He was met with a silent stare back from underneath Reave's wide brimmed hat.

The Xamster’s distress mounted, not quite knowing what to do when met with silent opposition, "You... this... this is not a self-service establishment! I will have to insist..."

Before either Rex or Mentis could jump in, Jiljoo pushed herself forwards with a bright, confident smile.

"Oh, please do not be distressed, Mister Tovvee," she said warmly, placing a reassuring hand on one of his upper arms, "Zey are with me."

Immediately, his ears perked as his little brown eyes shot towards the Twi'lek and his posture softened in an instant.

"Oh! Miss Jiljoo," he said, his nervous energy dissipating and replaced with fondness, "Well, I suppose if they are your guests, then it is quite alright. You should make yourselves at home and I can just whip up a fresh order for booth seven. No trouble at all."

His eyes shot to Reave for a moment, almost looking a little embarrassed and, with a nervous chuckle, he scurried away to the kitchen.

Mentis let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He turned to Jiljoo and inclined his head.

"You certainly have a lot of friends around here," he observed, raising his brow, "Reave doesn't mean to cause trouble, but he can't help but attract it."

Jiljoo laughed, bright and carefree, "Please, zere' iz' no need to apologise. Back on Öetrago, I caused my fair share of trouble. I think zat' nothing in ze' galaxy changes unless you are willing to start a little trouble now and zen'?"

Jiljoo laughed and slid into the booth alongside Mentis without further hesitation. She peered at the cards on the table, then across at Reave with genuine curiousity.

"I must say," she smiled, curling her one organic lekku over her shoulder as she leaned in, "I have never seen a Jawa dressed like zat'. Do ze' rest of his clan wear ze' same outfit? Or is he... a fashion rebel as well?"

Before either Rex or Mentis could answer Jiljoo's question, another voice cut across the table.

"I've been asking myself much the same thing."

The other patrons shifted to allow another figure through. Doctor Buhggs stepped into view carrying a broad serving tray upon which sat no fewer than eight tiny glasses filled with a clear, potent-looking spirit. Without so much as acknowledging the effort it had taken to balance them through the crowded taproom, he set the tray down in the middle of the table.

His sharp little eyes settled immediately upon Reave.

For several long moments he simply stared at the Jawa beneath the absurdly oversized hat.

"Curious," he chirruped at last. "Most small prey sentient species evolve methods of reducing their visibility to potential predators." He gestured vaguely towards Reave with one clawed hand. "You, by contrast, appear to have invested considerable effort into becoming more conspicuous."

Reave stared back from beneath the broad brim of his hat without so much as twitching.

"...Utinni."

"Mm." Buhggs gave a small nod, as though that somehow confirmed his hypothesis. Without another word, he picked up one of the tiny glasses from the tray.

Rex smiled.

"Well, now this is my kind of introduction."

Doctor Buhggs promptly tipped the contents into his mouth. Then reached for a second. And a third.

Rex's smile slowly faltered.

"Uhh... I'm guessing those weren't for all of us?"

Buhggs looked at him over the rim of the fourth glass.

"No."

He downed it, then the fifth vanished a heartbeat later.

Across the table, Reave emitted a series of amused, rapidly rising jabbers. The Jawa jabbed an enthusiastic finger towards the now rapidly diminishing collection before raising his hand high into the air and waving energetically towards the bar.

From somewhere behind the counter came the unmistakable sound of the Xamster proprietor sighing in defeat.

"I'll... I'll bring another tray..."

Rex watched Doctor Buhggs dispatch yet another shot before slowly turning back towards Jiljoo, his eyebrows climbing a little higher than before. He let out an amused breath before his expression softened.

"So..." He nodded towards Jiljoo. "You were close to Bomoor, then? Before he became... y'know..." He made an equally vague little flourish with his fingers. "...a wizard."

Jiljoo, who was already smiling at the exchange of banter, turned towards Rex in a flash and seemed to almost gasp as she propped two hands upon the table for emphasis, disturbing a stack of tokens Mentis had carefully aligned.

"Oh yes, indeed!" the Twi'lek confirmed, "Bomoor and I used to play as children on Öetrago. Ze' Elenca took me in after ze' Second Rim Conflict - zey' sadly could not save my father but I gained a wonderful new family and Bomoor was like a brother to me."

She frowned playfully, although there seemed to be a genuine sadness in her eyes, "I was so very sad ze' day he left to be a..."

She mirrored Rex's hand movement, adding a wiggle of her fingers, "...wizard."

"I still don't really know much about the Jedi initiation," Mentis interjected, straightening his tokens again and adjusting in his seat, "But I know they take them quite young, so did you really only see him again when we came to Öetrago the last time? You sure he's the same as you remember him?"

Mentis peered sideways at Jiljoo, the suggestion lingering in the air for her to unpack.

She returned her own partial glance before scrunching up her mouth and saying, "We are all different people now. I am not so naïve to think he is still ze' child I knew over twenty years ago..."

Mentis’ eyes dipped for a moment, a faint crease forming between his brows in an almost apologetic flicker, as though realising he’d sounded more pointed than he intended.

She continued, "But Mother Mozo always held a connection to him and sensed his greatness. When I saw him on ze' battlefield zat' day, I knew she was right. Just like us, he forged connections with you all and now we fight as one!"

She grabbed a shot glass from the new tray as the Xamster brought it over before raising it up, "For a free Öetrago! For a free Mayagil!"

The crystal shot glass exploded. There was no warning beyond the impossibly sharp crack of a blaster report.

TBC

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