An abrupt interruption...

[Dumah Zohar]

"'Look after this and look after that.' Bah! The damn man needs to make up his mind before it becomes art on the floor! I swear, if I have to..." The ramblings of the red Twi'lek were starting to annoy him, a combination of high pitch complaining and not doing her job properly. Four times now she has had to send back orders that people requested, and she wondered why her boss was complaining...either that or just trying to find an excuse to fire her by piling on the work needed done. Work or not, his target did not seem to want to make an appearance. Tending to his drink, wearing his casual black long sleeve, blaster pistol at his hip, Dumah looked around again to find them. For the last week, he's been going across the surface of Telos and its cities to find a business man by the name of Arviar Kumol, a rich and stupid politician who ended up pissing off a Senator. Arviar must have known he would be targeted, because the guy had been evading the lime light for some time now. It became a combination of patience and boredom in this chase for this man. In all honesty, Dumah was surprised that the Guild sent this commission to him. He hadn't heard anything from them for weeks; not that he was complaining, but without something to do, he got very edgy without any work. Now that he was on the job, everything flowed back into place. Now he just needed Arviar to show up, kill him, and collect his pay before getting the hell off of Telos.

A few minutes passed, then another, and still no Arviar. This was the most likely place he'd end up at, based on previous information and the fact he frequented the Villas Bar every day since arriving planet side. Still...the waiting was...and in comes Arviar. 'Yes...now what are you...' And in comes his three bodyguards, all of them armed with blaster rifles and pistols. They sweept their eyes over the room once before resuming their leisurely walk. 'Plan A...poison him...scrapped...f*ck...' Dumah sipped at his drink and observed quietly as they took a booth across from him. The layout was as such: Dumah sat at the bar of the catina, and there were several booths around they could sit in. For them, they sat across the room in booths near the bar, and across from Dumah, within direct eye-sight, and not giving one bit of attention to the pale man. Still, they didn't sit together. Arviar sat alone, while the bodyguards sat one booth over, their eyes on the door, and not caring about the occupients already here. 'Confident, or arrogant...still...' There were a few options now open to him. Approach the table and strike a conversation, eventually slipping a poison into his drink as planned without the bodyguards noticing, or drop a smoke screen in the room, put a bolt in him, and leave before they're none the wiser. Personally, the act of shooting didn't appeal to him for obvious reasons, though it was the most direct. The life of an assassin...never dull.

 

[Lief]

@[member="Dumah Zohar"]
Apologies for how late this has been reply wise
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Telos. Just another Planet in another System, with very little appeal. But even so a destination necessary to visit once in a blue moon. As variable as its terrain may be there was still a large industrial sector booming within, the product of its location upon the Hydian hyperlane. It was such an area that she found herself, slinking through the city-sector like a bodiless shadow seeking its source. The hood she wore covered her features in darkness, leaving them to the imagination, but compared to the various other entities upon this planet, in this specific sector, that was nothing out of the ordinary. She didn't stand out, not even a little bit. But what did stand out, at least to her, was the luring pull of the Force. So insistent was it that she had flown halfway across the Sith Empire to be here, largely on a whim. What she hoped to find, she could not say, but part of her knew that the journey would be worth it. As such she allowed herself to be guided through the lower city, past open bars, cantinas, spicedens and pits. She didn't look twice at any of the buildings, they were the haunting grounds of weak willed men who required alcohol to give their lives any substance, who could not control their desires. In truth it sickened her, and if she had her way the Galaxy would be purged of such.

When she passed a particularly shadowed cantina she thought nothing, that is until she took a sudden, halted step back. Her gaze slipped to the cantina once before she entered, largely following instinct as opposed to solid necessity or fact. Inside it was... Well, remarkably quiet. A few figures sat here and there, spaced out across the shallow room. She also noted the distinct lack of alcohol in the air. Stepping to the bar she quietly asked for a glass of Mandalorian Orange juice, so as to blend in, and took her seat in the corner. Now it was a waiting game. While sipping the juice itself her gaze ran across the room, senses extended to pick up on anything out of the ordinary. Why had she been led here, of all places? She took note of two sets of eyes trained upon her person, and thus her gaze shifted to the corner where the individuals sat. Burly looking men, more brawns than brains she reckoned. But she didn't give them much attention, and instead turned her sights back to the drink. Yet internally she was analysing every aspect of them.

 

[Dumah Zohar]

(It's all good =) Sorry for the length. Just trying to get through things cleanly.)

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For more than five minutes, Dumah waited, drank from his glass, and wondered to himself when the time would be for him to make his move. The quiet whispers of the cantina, the soft music of the musicians, and yet they combined into a rhythm that he could feel in his bones. It was a nice cantina, but even so, everything must surely end, one way or another.

"Another drink for you, sir?" The waitress asked Arviar, and as he looked up from his datapad and nodded, Dumah was already at the table.

"Make that two, would you please?" Dumah was sitted before the lady could say a word and a frown formed on Arviar's face. "Business is your passion, and staying in it would be your top priority, yes? I'm in the business of making sure you stay that way." He went from frowning, to furring his brow, and eventually, his face began to lose color, his expression residing back in contemplation. The waitress was already gone, and that was good, because that meant one less person to have to silence to keep things under wrap. A smirk crossed Dumah's face during his little speech, a knowing little thing that conveyed that he knew something. Which he did, only Arviar didn't know exactly what that was yet, nor would he by the end of this conversation.

"I'm listening." The only one who reacted out of the three bodyguards was the only one who could view the man, facing in the direction with a direct line of sight. The other two sat with their backs to Dumah. The only thing the guy did was look, blink, and then resumed the card game they were in. They were not professional at all. If this man was rich, where were the guards that could actually do their job? Something didn't smell right...

"You have a bounty on your head, and there will be some who want that head...so I propose this..." The doors of the cantina opened up, and through the mirror across from Dumah, he could see four Mandalorian mercenaries walk into the room. 'Durasteel armor...repeater blasters...rocket on each arm and laser targeting system on their shoulders...likely all automatic...' Dumah had an idea. "...pay me double and I assure you these men, and all after, don't bother you again." 20,000 credits from this...and 10,000 afterward when he killed him for the bounty, totalling 30,000 credits. It's just going to take a bit to get the money. Arviar was sweating by this point, because he could see them, and they headed straight for their table. The only confirmation was a nod, and a gulp.

"Arviar Kumol?" One of the Mandalorians came up with his partner, the other two staying back and surveying the rest of the room. It would have been best had all four came up, but Dumah could work with this. A thud was heard by the Mandalorian's feet, who looked down, but it was already too late. The ion grenade went off, disabled the HUD display in their helmets, and caused a bit of disorientation as they stumbled backwards to move away. In that span of time, a flash-bang grenade was already thrown toward the other two, detonating in front of them and blinding them, making them deaf briefly while Dumah did his handy work.

His blaster was out until he switched the pack, considering the ion grenade, but that hardly mattered in the next few seconds. His sword already drown, he was up and cut through the throat of one of the Mandalorians; he would be dead within seconds of bleeding out. Dumah moved toward the other and closed in, though this one was already ready with a kukri unsheathed. One sweep, then two, still disoriented and jumbled, he kept a pace that made Dumah dodge for several more seconds than he would have liked. One slash at the leg brought him to his knees, enough time to allow Dumah to stab him through the neck; a quick, clean kill. If it wasn't for the grenades, this would not have gone so well for him.

Dumah's other saving grace was that the other two were still fumbling with their sights, resorting to try and take off their helmets to see properly thanks to the flash-bang grenade that would have turned their visor to sh*t. By the time they were off and had raised their weapons, Dumah switched the blaster's cell pack with another, and shot both of them dead, a bolt through each skull.

"Per the agreement..." In the confusion of the grenades, almost all of the occupants had left. The only ones left were Arviar and his three bodyguards, or at least that he saw. Some tables were turned over, chairs uplifted, so maybe someone was hiding, or maybe he just didn't see them. Either way, he walked over, set the sword on the table, blaster back on his hip, and he lifted his hand to Arviar. The man gulped, but proceeded to withdraw bills from his suit, all 1,000 bills. The guy was loaded, no doubt about that. "Musketeers," Dumah said to the three bodyguards, standing now with raised guns, as if expecting something to happen from how nervous they were now. Their guns had been rendered useless from the ion grenade, but at least they changed the packs out afterward; as if it mattered now. "Might want to check the bodies for creds for yourselves. Can't hurt to have a bit of extra cash." This assured finger prints, something that Dumah didn't have. Two of them went over to the other two in the middle of the room, not covered in blood, and the other stood nearby, easily within sword's reach. Arviar counted the money and handed it to Dumah. "Thank you." Putting it into his pocket, he picked up the sword with one hand, and with a quick flick, cut the throat of the bodyguard. The other two turned, but Dumah shot them dead before they could react, one in the head and the other the torso.

"Wh-what are you doing?!?!" Arviar screamed in helplessness, withdrawing from his chair to the wall, in terror and fear. Dumah didn't blink when he turned his blaster from the bodyguards to him and put a bolt through his chest, severing his spinal column.

"Tying up lose ends."

 

[Lief]

Not as impressive or lengthy as your own, but I didn't see the point in reiterating what you had already done.
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Kära remained in place, monitoring the room at large throughout the exchange. Her attention was caught by a young man who seemed to think himself important enough to interrupt a man with three goonish yet bulky bodyguards. Her senses focused in as the pair began their exchange, and it became increasingly obvious that one was fearful of something, or someone. Was this why she had been directed inside? Likely not, but she would wait to find out where this exchange went. When a handful of Mandalorian-esque individuals entered she saw a split second of understanding flash within the eyes of the younger male, before the Mandalorians stepped forth. Without warning the flash of an explosive lit the air and several people ran screaming from the room. Kära was not one such person. Instead she ducked out of sight and waited to see what would happen. This one, the boy, was clever, but did he have the skill to undermine so many skilled warriors and leave with his life? That wasn’t for her to judge. In the confusion slaughter and mayhem ensued, and before long the weaknesses of each of the Mandalorians had been exposed and exploited. It seemed as though this boy could be of some menial use to her, but how could she make this known?


As she remained in place and a further exchange underwent between the boy and the older man she picked up on something most would not notice; the boy was Force sensitive, yet the way he handled himself suggested he was not intrinsically aware or at least trained in Force-based combat or subterfuge. By now it had become apparent what the boy was, little more than an assassin, albeit one well trained. Knowing she could offer him much in terms of training, so long as his loyalty was assured, she decided that she would remain to catch him unawares. Slipping and immersing herself into the Current, Kära was able to make herself unseen, undetectable through all equipment, senses and even the Force itself. Then she made her way across the room, skirting around the bodies which lined the floor, just in time to see the older man perish by the boy’s hand, assuring the latter a lack of witnesses, or did it?


Playing to the boy’s ignorance she settled herself upon the cantina bar and lowered the immersion technique from her person, staring in the direction of the boy. “An impressive show of skill, but you may want to get out of here before you have the authorities on your back.” Staring at him she added, “Or the latter could be halted, as simply as a few well placed words”. Tilting her head to one side she added, “Your choice, but either way you’ll be coming with me now.” Slipping down from the bar itself she stanced herself casually and raised a brow, waiting to see his response. He could try and use that blaster of his all he liked, or his high-end explosives, but the fact of the matter was that when Kära wanted something, she would have it one way or another. The woman held influence over the Empire, of which this planet lay within. It could be made to seem as though no incident even took place here, should she wish it. But that all depended on the boy before her.

@[member="Dumah Zohar"]

 

[Dumah Zohar]

(My posts aren't that impressive I think >.> They always feel like they lack something, at least to me. But yeah, must move the post along ^-^)

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Arviar was now dead, and within a few hours, he would make 30,000 credits from a single job...this felt like a good day for him. Despite the job being in Sith space, this went off more smoothly than he thought it would have. Cleaning off the blood from his blade, he sheathed it, holstering his blaster on his hip in the process. Now all that was left to do was hack into the camera system and erase the logs, something he had done time and again before today. Slipping his datapad out from his jacket pocket, he began his tedious task. 'Now where is that-'

"An impressive show of skill." Dumah's eyes went wide with surprise and before another word could be said, he swiftly drew his blaster, and pointed it straight at the unknown woman's head. In all the days he's been an assassin, there were few times he was surprised like this; completely unprepared and believing himself to be in the clear. Hell, he was almost sure no one had been there a moment ago, yet there the lady sat on the bar, pretty as you please. Now it was time for Dumah to be a bit unnerved, but despite this, he was calm and collected. Still though...he didn't like this...not one bit. He was sure no one else was here...so how? "But you may want to get out of here before you have the authorities on your back." She...she had a point there, though he had already been in the process of doing just that very thing. "Or the latter could be halted, as simply as a few well placed words." Wait...what? Well placed words...this lady was either too cocky for her own good, or she had more cards up her sleeves than she let on. "Your choice, but either way, you'll be coming with me now." She slipped off the bar so assuredly, and it annoyed him a bit. So confident, yet she didn't look like she had any weapons on her, at least any of the kind he normally saw. Hell, she was pretty, white hair, nice face, slim clothes, though a nasty scar on her left cheek. This mystery game was getting old.

"Not likely." A confident shot was released from his blaster, but before it came anywhere near her head, the target of the bolt, it veered abruptly to the side, hitting the nearby wall instead. A second passed as Dumah processed what just happened, unsure what exactly occurred. He fired another shot, this time aimed at her torso. Same result, veering off abruptly without so much as a passing fancy, as if saying "nope, not going to work for you." He fired seven more times, all of them changing at different angles with no distribution pattern that Dumah could see. It was as if they were just being pushed aside at random degrees. The more he had fired, the less he was confident about having control of the situation. He stood there puzzled, but an idea went off in his mind. It wasn't as if it was going to save him, but it would determine something else for him. He fired two more shots, this time both streamed passed her form and hit the bar behind. They were shots aimed for near her body, not at her. All of the shots were pushed aside by something, but two shots that intentionally missed were not even touched. There was no way she had some kind of barrier.

"You're Sith...aren't you?" Dumah said, a rhetoric question at this point as he lowered his blaster. It was useless at this point. This was Sith space and while he might have assumed before hand that she used a stealth field generator to get around, the blaster bolts flying off were not something he could explain with any technology that he was aware of. In fact, there weren't any that did that, at least not with the results he saw. He chuckled, holstering his blaster away and placing the datapad back into his jacket. "My first statement is invalid, it seems," he said, in reference to the 'not likely' statement. He had heard enough statements about the Sith to know that with where he was standing, he wasn't going to get anywhere without her permission. This felt way too much like his training sessions when he was younger, being told what to do, what to say, how to breath, and everything else under the sun. Hell, he couldn't even piss without their permission. Sigh...at least he was use to it.

 

[Lief]

So the boy did not wish to play ball? So be it. The moment he shot blaster bolts towards her she guided them aside with swift yet subtle bursts of the Force, guiding them aside with her mind alone. Her eyes never once left those of this boys, he who would attempt to attack her. The bar behind her was becoming somewhat blackened from the frequent blaster abuse, and when he finally relented the woman shook her head and made a delicate tssking noise. "You did not understand, but now you will. Either you come with me and escape all prosecution or you do not. The latter will be far worse than you'd be expecting. Your choice." After a few moments of staring at him she said "Tick-Tock, boy" as she slipped closer to him, raising a brow. When he no longer seemed to have the fight in him she nodded her head once, before her eyes flared a viscous, sulphuric yellow corrupted colour. Her mind sent an attack through straight to his own, enough to cripple even the most giant of men and bring them to their knees, her mentalist abilities far surpassing most.

Whether he dropped to his knees or felt the attack at all the woman swiftly stepped closer, eyes narrowing at him as a hand shot out towards him. She halted an inch from his pretty little face, leaning in towards him. "Know that you are mine, now" was all her hissing voice said, low and barely above a whisper yet assertive and violent all the same. And then she stepped back, and gestured for the boy to follow. There would be no way for him to escape her, not here, not in her own territory. Outside men began to gather, officials from the planet, but one sign of the woman clad in her robes and they halted, waiting nervously. "Come." she said, as she stepped out towards the door and gestured him out. "Run and you will wish you had not." Then her eyes glanced up at the officials, and she gestured to the body of Arviar. "He and his fools picked a fight with the Mandalorians; he has been neutralised, but the cantina will need cleaning up. See to it." With that she left them, fully expecting Dumah to follow her...

@[member="Dumah Zohar"]

 

[Dumah Zohar]

"You did not understand, but now you will. Either you come with me and escape all prosecution or you do not. The latter will be far worse than you'd be expecting. Your choice. Tick-Tock, boy."

'Prosecution...wouldn't be the first time I've been behind a Sith cell, but it would be the first a Force user put me there. I'd be out in 24 hours, at most...still...' The thought of her being there the entire time, watching over him, would not be the most pleasant of experiences, if she even bothered to do that in the first place. The tssking sound she made as she spoke, moving forward and raising her brow, it was unnerving. The entire situation was unnerving: unable to say, do, or react with anything that might get him out of here. The secret of an assassin was not just being unseen and unheard, doing their job without so much as a glitch in the net, but to be able to get out of a situation and erase that it ever happened from existence, should he ever be caught. Public record could be erased with time and effort, but a person, that was much more difficult. It's what he grew up to do.

Her sulfuric eyes, yellow and vivid in their own way...that was new. They flared threateningly, though he did not twitch under her stare. Then...the headache began...a drill that started a descent into the center of his head. At first dull, then sharp, then sharper, and more painful the longer it went, until it was a sheering pain. "Argh!" The lights around suddenly became painful. Closing his eyes, he brought his left hand to his head on reflex. Perhaps he thought it would lessen the pain, but no, nothing happened expect for maybe looking like an idiot. It took all of his will power just to keep standing.

"Know that you are mine, now."

'What...' Between all the pain and the voice in his ears when she moved closer to him, he didn't even notice that she moved at all. How was he still standing? When he opened his eyes and saw her walking away, he became aware of a pain in his right hand. With a glance down, he saw blood dripping from it, his hand clenched tight into a fist. 'I don't think this will be the last time this happens...' Between stepping forward and making sure his headache didn't get worse, he wasn't sure how he remained standing as he walked out the cantina after...his new Sith master.

"Come. Run and you will wish you had not."

'I don't know if I could pronounce my name right now, much less run.' Dumah thought to himself, stepping forward as she asked, and in front of the crowd of official looking soldiers and others. She murmured something around Arviar and cleaning up this mess before stepping outside, with Dumah close behind her. He would need to get some things if they were leaving planet side. "Between my headache and trying to stand," he said, walking steadily with her pace, however much it might hurt to move. "What do I call you? I'm sure Master is on that list, unless you're the type that doesn't like the word." He still had his left hand on his forehead, which he just now let fall to his side. The blood on his right hand was now already dry.

"Dumah Zohar."

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]