Catering exclusively to exotic clientèle, the Jekk’Jekk Tarr Cantina on Nar Shaddaa isn’t just unwelcoming to Humans—it’s deadly. Unlike some establishments that have gained a sordid reputation, the Jekk’Jekk Tarr Cantina’s patrons don’t often bear criminal charges. Instead, circulated cyanogen fumes and pollutants that are toxic to Humans provide a buffer against less desirable company.

Instead of serving drinks, the bar serves "nutrient chemicals" to its clientèle, who pay large sums of credits for the privilege. Five sections emulate the environments of different worlds preferable to certain species and are colour-coded to signify the types of gases being vented into the chambers. The sections are divided by short halls designed to function similar to an airlock so as not to contaminate the different chambers.

The first chamber, favored by species that could perceive the infrared, such as the Devaronians and Trandoshans, is lit with red lights and doubles as the cantina’s entrance to the far more dangerous yellow and green rooms.

Simulating the harsher climates of worlds such as Ryloth and Sriluur, the yellow-tinted room to the west is still poisionous to Humans, due to the amount of concentrated gases, but leaves some near-Humans, such as Twi'leks and Weequays, unaffected.

Identical rooms lie to the east of the infrared chamber, both bearing green color-coding. Exclusive to the insectoid Gand, these chambers filter in ammonia-based atmospheres that are toxic to most other non-insectoid species. The fifth chamber requires passage through the two ammonia-based rooms, but unlike the others, the private lounge is not harmful to Humans.

In some cases, measures have been taken to circumvent the harmful toxins, including the use of breath masks. Alternatively, a control panel located in the private lounge can purge the chemicals from each room to allow Humans to pass through unhindered in dire situations. All of the rooms bear the usual outfit of an unadorned cantina—arrangements of chairs and tables set within a hexagonal space.

Another flash of neon flickered across Kul’s orange eyes. He grimaced reflexively at the intrusion under his hood, but did not seek to move from below the sign’s cone of reach. It wasn’t an impressive sign, really. Simple, yet bright, but it still pulled in a steady stream of customers into its comforting embrace. Jekk’Jekk Tarr, whispered the sign. A place to whittle away time without the presence of insufferable humans. It was also a hive of information. An Inquisitor’s gold mine. However, Kul was Zabrak, and as such was vulnerable to the toxic gases that suffused the cantina in order to ensure the lack of human presence. That had not stopped him from “drafting” a source of information from within the business, though admittedly he had not been aware of the establishment’s defenses at the time as they had made contact elsewhere. Regardless of the obstacle, Kul had a mission to complete and would see through with it. As soon as he figured out how to either get inside to the private room using stealth (likely becoming a choking, crawling mess on the way), or find the purifying vents and activate them.

The Zabrak had his arms crossed and his fingers strummed along the sides of his armor’s biceps as he contemplated his choices. According to his source, the vents controls were accessible just pass the doors so the two Gran guards could let in accepted guests, so it was possible Kul could use that to his advantage.

“You trying to get in?”

The voice cracked a bit before it found its full strength. Kul glanced to his left, where a small human boy was beaming up at him. That fact that he was wearing clone trooper armor modified for his size, stuck out as curious to Kul. The boy held his helmet at his side which revealed his deep, but sparkling, green eyes. Kul’s response was more growl than speech.

“What?”

The boy giggled at some inside joke, a mocking glint in his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I was speaking Basic. Are you. Trying. To go in?”

The boy’s smile dimmed when Kul’s eyes squinted with malice.

“Go home, boy.” His tone clearly denoted the annoyance Kul was feeling at being approached so casually.

Instead of choosing the wiser option, the boy took a step closer to the Zabrak. He leaned in to whisper like to two gossipers catching up on the latest rumors.

“I’m trying to get in, too. Name’s Cinn, by the way. Derek Cinn. Perhaps we can help each other.”

The name sounded familiar to Kul for some reason, but he couldn’t quite place it. He began running a list of Plagueis’ known enemies through his head, a list he had been made to memorize in case he was called to end them, but the name did not stick out.

“Sin, you said?”

“No, no not Sin. Cinn.”

As the boy put out his smaller hand to shake--yet another smile lighting up his face brighter than the neon lights could--Kul flicked his eyes from the boy to the entrance of the club just a couple meters away. An idea was forming, so he took the boy’s hand in his own, and gripped it tight. Cinn winced slightly at the pressure, but he kept his face pleasant.

“My that’s quite the grip you have th-EEEEERREEEEEEE!”

Without warning Kul pulled the boy, spinning Cinn around and using his other arm to snatch the boy’s belt buckle. With a twist the Zabrak flexed his entire musculature, as well as borrowing a bit of strength from the Force, and sent the boy careening into the Gran guard closest to them. The two fell back in a jumble of limbs and curses (both Basic and Gran). By some stroke of luck their fall crashed them into the door controls, triggering the loud whirring of the purification vents. Smiling inwardly, Kul marched up the short stairway to the entrance and strode through the door while the second guard was busy aiding its companion. The vents did their work quickly, drawing confused looks from the clientele. Kul spared a short glance to the boy as he stood, rubbing his head in pain.

“Thanks for the help, boy,” Kul chuckled as he made his way deeper inside the cantina.

Derek Cinn’s gaze followed him. He wasn’t smiling this time.