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[not_inkansas]

Three, for the price of one!

At the Bar proper is Bonzo Madrid, munching on some dinner after a long shift at the Forge.

In one corner of the Bar is a certain Mandalorian, un-helmeted at the moment and working on cleaning a field-stripped blaster. Boba Fett looks like he could use a hand with...well, whatever is ailing that particular weapon at

Comments

[makesthings]

Lots of people clean guns in Milliways, Sam finds it a great way to learn about how they're put together.

This man though looks concerned and so Sam pauses with his drink to ask,

"Is something wrong with it?"

[mandalorianheir]

Fett looks up and sighs. "I think something got lodged between the power packs and the barrels." Jammed guns stink. Blasters locking up? Even worse.

[makesthings]

"Maybe I can help get it out if you'll show me where. I work in the forge here and I'm good at fixing things,"

Sam's dressed in his normal rather medieval outfit but he's got the grime of the forge on him and does know what he's doing.

[mandalorianheir]

Fett nods and puts the parts he's working with down. "Feel free. I'd slide it over, but I might lose a screw." Field strippable or not, there are always screws that can go missing in a weapon.

[sunbaked_baker]

Colonel Miles Quaritch?

Have a cinnamon roll. It's on the small plate being set next to your elbow by that red-headed baker.

[not_inkansas]

Quaritch notes the plate...and smiles up at the baker, gratefully accepting the cinnamon roll proffered.

"Thank you."

[sunbaked_baker]

"You're welcome," she grins. "Figured something has to make paperwork not so bad."

[not_inkansas]

"It certainly doesn't hurt, that's for sure." And he takes a bite into the roll. Yep, it hits the spot. "So...how long has it been since we last talked?"