The Citadel Cantina is located on the second level of the Arcona Citadel. The bar itself is small on the surface, but possess an expansive selection thanks to a clever servos-operated storage system built into the underside of the bar. A bartender only need punch in what drink they require (other than the typical stock) and within a minute the bottle is distributed transparisteel display panels. Relaxed, soothing music plays over the speakers, and a big-screen display terminal with access to the holonet sits across from a series of comfortable lounge chairs and stools.

The Cantina is full-service and is manned by a gruff, one-eyed Rodian named Mick. Mick is a grumpy, former sergeant who served in the Arcona Armed Forces years and years ago. He goes about his business with a series of grunts, gestures, and monosyllabic dialogue. Though a man of few words, he's a genius of alcoholic beverages and mixology. Mick has a very strict rule about no fighting or brawling within the Cantina. The mess hall, on the other hand, is a different story.

The Cantina opens up into a dedicated mess-hall that can hold up to a hundred sentients before it starts to feel claustrophobic. Open at all hours, the mess-hall has been sanctioned as an acceptable area for members to settle aggressions and other frustrations. The tables are all firmly bolted into the halls floor to avoid being thrown over, and are crafted out of durable material that has held it’s own throughout the years. At the far end of the mess-hall there is a pair of double-doors that lead to the kitchen and storage area. The mess-hall is maintained by a full staff of droids, and occasionally a new recruit who has earned the ire of the Rollmaster.

Lexiconus sat on the luxurious and silent leisure area of the Cantina, holding a bottle of Whyren’s reserve with another one on the table. His gaze directed towards the Coruscant stock market of the outside world. His interest collected by the Beverage market. Lexic slowly raised his bottle of whiskey and frowned.

“Oh, I guess my drink is eleven credits more expensive.” He said to himself, then shrugged and downed the entire bottle, coughing heavily at the end.

“Guess that means you’re paying me more to clean up your sick, kid!” Mick shouted from the bar.

The one-eyed Rodian barely let the young teen into the Cantina as it was, but because the Togruta tied his loyalties to Marick, then the old Sergeant liked him more. As Lexic reached down for the second bottle, he turned his eyes to his left and smirked. There was a strong scent of a womanly perfume, and a cloaked old man sitting on the table behind him.

“Coming to share my whiskey, Captain Cortel? Or are you too busy staring at my rear?” Lexic spoke out loud.

Silence crept along the cantina as no reply was given from the atmosphere. Before the peeking Rodian head could utter his words, Lexic quickly stood and rolled over the couch. He gripped the hood of the old man’s robe tightly and yanked it down. There was the lush, blonde-haired woman that commanded the AGV Nighthawk. Grunting in disbelief, Lexic walked back to his whiskey and scooped it up, then drank some.

“Shouldn’t you be defending your precious and strong Quaestors? Not wasting credits in here.” She whispered from her tender lips.

Lexic shrugged in disbelief and continued to drink. He turned back around to watch the holonet, catching the news of his homeworld Shili.

“No point, they can handle themselves for now. Isn’t there a ship you should be cleaning or something? Heard you pulled quite a stunt at the Citadel.” Lexic replied as he slowly turned back to the woman.

She nodded and smirked her plump lips, she teased a fraction of her brilliant white teeth towards the Togruta. Then she proceeded to walk towards the mess hall and motioned for Lexic to follow, which he hesitantly did.

“The Nighthawk is ready to take back the throne from the Quaestor scum. One word from me and all your partners, leaders and followers are destroyed. How do you take that bit of news?” She whispered to the Togruta as she continued to enter the mess hall.

Lexic rubbed the back of his head tails slowly, then drank more of the bottle until it was empty and placed it onto a mess hall table. He watched the Captain turn elegantly on her heels and wait for a reply as he walked closer.

“Well what can I say? Most of my followers are on your side so blast away.” He replied with a cold smirk, touching the edge of the table that she used to prop.

Arcia let out a soft chuckle and looked down at Lexic’s sea blue hand, then with a flash of seconds she held her blaster firmly against the Togruta’s naked stomach.

“So, you don’t mind if I just destroy the lot?” She whispered, as she slowly turned her eyesight to the peeking Mick in the distance.

They were both obviously aware that any form of increased aggression would spark Mick’s interest, but they both kept it shrouded for now. As Lexic turned his gaze to the firm blaster muzzle, he motioned his free hand as to remind her to look at her ribs. When she lowered her sharp, emerald gaze to her side the silver hilt of Lexic’s lightsaber was planted hard against the side of her clothed body. With a soft and cute smirk from her lowered face, Lexic could tell Arcia planned the worst. Before he could step back, she already moved back and jumped into the air. Her feet arched towards him and rammed Lexic across the room. His body soared until it slid into the storage area of the mess hall, and Arcia could hear the panic of several droids who were surprised.

After several minutes of sheer panic and the sound of mechanics being crushed, the Togruta slowly strided out and gripped his lightsaber hilt tightly as he panted and glared in anger. His expression tightened as his mouth snarl to show his brilliant white canines.

“Oh, did I upset the drunk kitty?” She teased as she smirked wider. Her words were only leading her to a world of pain, yet Captain Cortel enjoyed it.