In my line of work, this sort of thing is necessary Who: Kaz Brekker & Tony Montana. What: Kaz follows up on an invitation for a drink. When: Following this holonet exchange. Where: Nameless cantina on Naboo. Rating: TBD.
Kaz walked into the cantina that the commentor had suggested to him; his cane tapped the ground decisively, but the sound was lost among yells and growls, cantina music and laughter. He stopped in the doorway, surveying the establishment. It wasn't dissimilar to either many other cantinas he'd visited throughout the galaxy during his ten years trapped in this place, nor was it not unlike the bar that The Dregs had owned. Maybe fewer dice tables, but this galaxy had its own flavor of gambling that Kaz had learned years ago.
Moving forward, he kept his gloved right hand wrapped tightly around his cane. To all intents and purposes, he looked frail, as though he were out of place here. His sharp eyes, though, for anyone intelligent enough to be watching, gave him somewhat away; that there was so much more to him than could be immediately seen. He finally landed on a table near the back, where this Tony Montana was sprawled with his back to the wall. Kaz made his way toward the man, somehow easily clearing a path despite his limp.
"We meet in person," he smiled, his deep, rough voice sounding wrong for the young man he looked. He might have been ten years older, but he still hadn't quite grown into the voice he'd been gifted after that event that had taken Jordie. At least Jordie's voice itself didn't haunt him any longer. "May I?" He motioned to the empty seat near the man.