[ cont from here with @dawnsofnaboo ]
She looked young. To him anyway. She probably wasn’t as old as all that and the kids he knew when he was a kid... Empire and Rebel alike had been fighting for so long. Depending on where you were, even in the Empire’s fall, some where still fighting. The First Order didn’t seem new. There would always be a Resistance to people like that.
Reeve never expected to be a real part of that. Of course, Roslin had been helping behind his back for months with the cargo runs on his frequent ‘vacations’ which he somehow came back with more money than he’d left with. But now, they were both in this mess. Reeve was taking a much needed bar break with the practical assembly line of droids he was helping the Resistance base repair.
“I meant the drink.” Reeve held the glass of rather swampy green liquid in his hand, using the same hand to point at the similar drink in front of her. However there were various shots and drinks on the bar that didn’t appear to belong to anyone or had been left... Maybe it wasn’t hers. The bartender droid probably needed looking at too... The nervousness she referred to, he was sure it wasn’t about the drink.
“No.” He answered bluntly before taking the shot. He made a face, and his right arm slammed against the bar top. It was metal, an augmentation. Functional, not fancy, at least not at first glance. There were designs etched in of all shorts against the metal, mostly just decorative, nothing telling about the man who wore them.
“That tastes awful. Don’t drink that. I honestly think there might’ve been motor oil in there...”