Fasalin
Active Member
The Kessel sector had always been a volatile place. The planet of Kessel itself took the dodginess to the next level--that was to say, the whole planet was basically one giant tantooine cantina, on a bad day. In fact, Assadar thought that it was probably the center of the corruption that filled the entire region of space.
His assignment was a straightforward one. Such a hive of scum and villainy could be easily exploited by the Sith, and he was here to size up just how well the planet could be manipulated for their purposes. Either that, or they were still trying to get him killed.
He had to admit, the Acklay he had fought of Vendaxa put most of these wretched pirates and smugglers to shame. Still, unlike Vendaxa, he was here alone. Alone, of course, save for his astro droid.
"Beep bop boop bop."
"Well, of course it smells!" hissed Assadar irritably. The droid had been referring to the cantina in which they presently resided, which happened to be one of the worst so far. Despite its drawbacks, the venue was an excellent place to hear conversation--well, if you had a droid who could identify and separate each individual's voice and store that data for analysis, anyway.
Right now, he wasn't interested in using Z-1's abilities, however (though he did find it amusing that Z-1's impressive audio capabilities were so apt for his overly-chatty nature.) He was here because he had sensed the one thing he had not expected to find here--another force-user.
He was still learning to use his abilities to sense other beings, but this person's signature was so strong, so different, that it had been impossible to miss. Its owner was sitting at a table, alone, in the very corner of the cantina, wearing a hooded robe. Assadar knew better than to approach an unknown and apparently very usual force user without knowing anything about him, so he settled to sit down on the other side of the room and observe. Perhaps someone would come to meet the stranger, and Z-1 could record their conversation. In the meantime, though, Assadar had a distinct feeling that the stranger was looking right back at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Z-1," Assadar murmured, "I don't know who that man is, but he's a force user alright. Isolate his audio signature and record everything he says." Assadar knew that if a force user was on the planet, their business was going to be important.
His musings were interrupted by a trandoshan, who approached him with his fists raised, looking very dangerous and very drunk. He pointed in the general direction of a man sitting across the room, who was watching them intently. The lizard man opened his mouth. The resulting voice, hampered by both the trandoshan's difficulty in speaking basic and his current state, was translated with some difficulty to the words "he doesn't like you."
Assadar nodded.
"I don't like you either." he continued.
Great. Thought Assadar, his hand drifting down to his blaster.
"You should watch yourself." said the Trandoshan. "I have the death sentence on twelve planets."
"Then consider me an officer of the law." said Assadar. The trandoshan didn't have time to get the joke before he was lying on the floor, a smoking hole in his chest. The occupants of the cantina turned and stared for a few seconds, then lost interest and went back to their chatter.
"Oi!" yelled the owner. "No shootin's in doors!"
"You'll make an exception." said Assadar, waving his hand casually, slipping his blaster back into his robes. Though he had come to rely on it less since his training on Vendaxa, he still never failed to wear it. It was incredibly useful, for example, when he was less than willing to let the whole place know that he was a Sith. Epsecially the man in the corner.
"I'll make an exception." he replied dutifully, a glazed look in his eyes.
His assignment was a straightforward one. Such a hive of scum and villainy could be easily exploited by the Sith, and he was here to size up just how well the planet could be manipulated for their purposes. Either that, or they were still trying to get him killed.
He had to admit, the Acklay he had fought of Vendaxa put most of these wretched pirates and smugglers to shame. Still, unlike Vendaxa, he was here alone. Alone, of course, save for his astro droid.
"Beep bop boop bop."
"Well, of course it smells!" hissed Assadar irritably. The droid had been referring to the cantina in which they presently resided, which happened to be one of the worst so far. Despite its drawbacks, the venue was an excellent place to hear conversation--well, if you had a droid who could identify and separate each individual's voice and store that data for analysis, anyway.
Right now, he wasn't interested in using Z-1's abilities, however (though he did find it amusing that Z-1's impressive audio capabilities were so apt for his overly-chatty nature.) He was here because he had sensed the one thing he had not expected to find here--another force-user.
He was still learning to use his abilities to sense other beings, but this person's signature was so strong, so different, that it had been impossible to miss. Its owner was sitting at a table, alone, in the very corner of the cantina, wearing a hooded robe. Assadar knew better than to approach an unknown and apparently very usual force user without knowing anything about him, so he settled to sit down on the other side of the room and observe. Perhaps someone would come to meet the stranger, and Z-1 could record their conversation. In the meantime, though, Assadar had a distinct feeling that the stranger was looking right back at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Z-1," Assadar murmured, "I don't know who that man is, but he's a force user alright. Isolate his audio signature and record everything he says." Assadar knew that if a force user was on the planet, their business was going to be important.
His musings were interrupted by a trandoshan, who approached him with his fists raised, looking very dangerous and very drunk. He pointed in the general direction of a man sitting across the room, who was watching them intently. The lizard man opened his mouth. The resulting voice, hampered by both the trandoshan's difficulty in speaking basic and his current state, was translated with some difficulty to the words "he doesn't like you."
Assadar nodded.
"I don't like you either." he continued.
Great. Thought Assadar, his hand drifting down to his blaster.
"You should watch yourself." said the Trandoshan. "I have the death sentence on twelve planets."
"Then consider me an officer of the law." said Assadar. The trandoshan didn't have time to get the joke before he was lying on the floor, a smoking hole in his chest. The occupants of the cantina turned and stared for a few seconds, then lost interest and went back to their chatter.
"Oi!" yelled the owner. "No shootin's in doors!"
"You'll make an exception." said Assadar, waving his hand casually, slipping his blaster back into his robes. Though he had come to rely on it less since his training on Vendaxa, he still never failed to wear it. It was incredibly useful, for example, when he was less than willing to let the whole place know that he was a Sith. Epsecially the man in the corner.
"I'll make an exception." he replied dutifully, a glazed look in his eyes.