Bryce sets the half empty glass on the table and looks at the fresh faced kid across from him. "You suur your wid Eastern Rim News-Net? You seem a bit yung to me." He tries to give the kid a stern look, but the grain alcohol in the bubbling liquid is determined to make his eyes follow seperate signals from his increasingly pickled brain.

	For the fourth time the young woman shows Bryce her press pass, and he shrugs. "Aight, so you wanna know how this ol space dog got his start? well, my Ma was a test pilot for CEC, you have heard of the Correllian Engineering Corporation, right?" Bryse uses the question as a break to take another drink. The young woman assures him she has heard of the CEC. "Well, when she wasn't trying to shake some nuw ship to peices for them, she would do delivery runs. Lots of runs to Alderaan. Dat's where she met me Pa. He was a wrench-monkey at the CEC facility there."

	Bryce sets the nearly empty glass on the table, the thud a little loud as he misjudges the location of the table top. "Gonna need another one of these Fission-Bomb's, you were right, they are great. Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, so Ma and Pa hook up, get hitched, and I pop out. Course, leave it to my Ma to make even that a test. She had blow a Hyperdrive regulator testing a new streamlined inducer unit and was stranded in the middle of nowhere with no backup 'drives and an underpowered e-beacon."

	Bryce smiles at the Twileck waitress bringing his new drink, and returns her friendly wink. Taking a big swig he continues. "So I was born in deep space, it's in me veins. Pa taught me to fix 'em and Ma taught me to fly 'em. Got me a job working maintenance on Correllia until I proved my flyin chops, den they had me doing courier runs, deliveries and such. Pretty light stuff,but I was young,maybe yung as you are."

	The alcohol is clearly effecting his speech, but he just rolls along. "I mush have been 22 or 23 when da Senate passed the Military Creation Act. I signed up the next day, made it out of Correllia only hours ahead of them closing their borders in protest. But I was dumb and just yung enough to thin that serving da Republic was a good thing. Did my training on Lianna where dey was building them fancy new Republic cruisers."

	"Sumfing stunck though, even in dem early days the training seemed wrong, the classes were almost entirely Human. Little things started to tug at me brain, ya know, nagging like a faulty indicator light. Den came da Clone Wars. Guess they didn't trust us natural borns, cause a lot of us suddenly got transfered from combat shuttles to cargo duty. Got shot at a few times by Seperatists, took a hit to an engine and had to splass down one time. Bastards docked me pay for the damages too."

	"So when ol Papatine stupped up and announced his 'New Oder' I got out of there fast as I could. Old space dog like me can smell trouble. So I kept moving further and further out. Took what work I could, saved up some money, took out a loan." Bryce looks into his now empty glass and grins sheepishly at the young reporter. As she sends the order for another drink, he lights up a smoke. "Course, in dem days you can't get a loan from da banks, Empire took 'em all over. So had to be creative, wnet into business with a Rodian family interest. Den da Hutts moved in and things got messy. Could have been messier, but they say I owe dem teh money now, and them Rodians ain't around ta argue dat point no more."

	Bryce smiles and mouths a kiss at the friendly waitress with his drink. "I don't tink you need me to fill ya in on the stuff that happened over the next couple years. The Empire took hold like a Gundark on a hunk o meat and they ain't lookin ta let go. Course you might need someone to tell ya what was really goin down, what wif the ISB 'correcting' history books, No Sir, No Empireal Atrocities committed Sir! All on teh up and up if ya ask them jackboot marchers."

	"But out here on the Rim, the galaxy keeps spinning, I move cargo, make an honest living. Who's to say a man shouldn't sell what he own to another man? He wants to sell it, I help move it, I do the job and I get paid, with a cut to the Hutts of course, gotta make dem 'loan' payments." Bryce smiles at the young reporter and a funny look crosses his face.

	"You are a cutie, ain't ya? Sorta remind me of my baby sister." A dark glint springs into the backs of his eyes and his voice firms up a little as he continues. "She was home on Alderraan from school, visiting our folks. Alderran ain't there no more. I don't care that they say, ain't no way some rebels blowed up a planet, just don't add up. Not saying the Empire really had a giant moon with a frickin huge laser on it like some of the off-beams are saying, you know, the ones the Empire flags as traitor news. Don't make my family any less dead, and what good is a guvernment, Senate or Empire, if they blow up planets? I mean what a planet ever do? They used to just bomb every living thing on it to paste, but to blowed up the whole planet? Dats jusssss." The moment of anger passes, and with it his clarity.

	The young woman stands up, slipping the recording rod into her pocket. She settles the tab on the way out, with a large tip to the Twilek waitress who's been eyeing Bryce all night. As the reporter leaves, Bryce smiles up at the waitress. "Yu sure is the prettiest thing I seen since setting foot on dis ball of dirt, what you doing after work?"