Private Deal Breaker

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Corellia, The Jawa's head
Objective: Disrupt the deal
Tag: Everest Vale
Attire: Clothes

Corellia, it had been a long time.

It wasn't a planet he thought of fondly, especially with the amount of corruption that went on here. Back in the day, Silas used to come here an awful lot, not out of pleasure but to help fill the pockets of those who had kept him captive all those years ago. Thankfully, since becoming a Jedi, there hadn't been much reason to visit. That, however, wouldn't last much longer. Pirate business that brought him down to the surface after gaining intel from a recent raid, one that put him a step ahead of a potential payday for them all. If there was going to be another chance to apply more pressure on the pirates, now would be the time.

Moving into the busy doorway of the bar, his cold blue eyes scanned the busy establishment as he casually puffed out smoke from a freshly lit cigarette. The place was busy with patrons chatting amongst each other, as well as a live performance from a well known Jizz band. It was a cosy atmosphere to say the least, but he couldn't stand around for too long. Dropping the smoke on the floor, he stamped on it lightly and walked over to the bar to grab a drink.

"Whiskey on the rocks" Silas said over to the barman with a brief nod, who began working on the drink without hesitation. For now, all he could do was wait and enjoy his drink. At least he'd have some time to soak in the atmosphere...​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Undercover
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Tag: Silas Westgard

The lights were low, but the walls still pulsed orange with the flicker of old neon. A red light blinked intermittently above the bar, giving the illusion that everything here was steeped in blood. Eve didn’t mind. It helped keep wandering eyes from looking too long.

She sat alone near the corner of the bar, a drink resting untouched in front of her. Something amber, sharp. She wasn’t sure what it was — she’d picked it for the look, not the taste. It had barely touched her lips.

Her borrowed jacket was stiff, slightly oversized, with a stitched-on insignia she didn’t recognise and didn’t want to. Spacer scum, pirate drifter, gun-for-hire — it didn’t matter who they thought she was, so long as it wasn’t Jedi. She wore fingerless gloves and low-slung utility gear, just enough to suggest danger without inviting proof. Her eyepatch sealed the look with sharpness, drawing more than one glance — but the sword-straight way she sat discouraged conversation.

Still, the outfit was heavy. Too much fabric. Too many seams. It itched in places she wasn’t used to feeling, the texture unfamiliar after a lifetime of Echani linens and light-robed freedom. She tugged at the collar once, quietly missing the weightlessness of her temple clothes. But this was better than the last outfit — that skintight black bodysuit had been an awful, awful mistake.

Her silver hair, mostly loose but tucked behind one ear, caught occasional light from the booth glowpanels behind her. She reached for her drink again, not to sip, but to anchor her hand — something to do, something still.

The band played on in the back, some jizz combo whose horns were just sharp enough to sound like arguments in music. Voices drifted, clustered in bursts, and always dropped again whenever someone too quiet walked past.

Eve said nothing. She just listened.

Somewhere beneath her silence, the urge to open herself to the Force stirred. She could stretch her senses, test the flow of the room, feel for intent and tension, maybe even catch the flicker of a false move. But… no. Not yet. She kept her aura coiled in, dimmed like a dying ember. This mission needed her masked, and her instincts — and Tigris’ presence in the back of her mind, a gentle tether through their bond even at long distance — kept her grounded.

Her eye drifted slowly, scanning.

There would be movement soon.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Corellia, The Jawa's head
Objective: Disrupt the deal
Tag: Everest Vale
Attire: Clothes

"Your drink buddy"

Nonchalantly, Silas opened his hand and let the drink slide into it as if it were second nature. Taking a sip, he let out a quiet sigh and looked down the bar. Most of the people here were either locals or visitors from elsewhere seeking a good time. However, one individual in particular stood out to him. The individual was like him, alone and waiting for a person who would never turn up. The only thing different was the eyepatch she sported. That in itself made Silas even more curious.

Or maybe it was the force trying to tell him something unclear.

Choosing to trust his instincts and dig a bit deeper, he casually got out of his chair and walked to a seat beside her. Sitting down without a word, Silas placed his whiskey and black shades on the counter to make himself at home. The girl looked a bit younger than he did, maybe early twenties or late teens. Considering she had an eyepatch already, it meant she either got unlucky at birth or got herself into something she wasn't supposed to.

For all he knew, she could have been one of the pirates scouting out the place.

"Fancy a drink, miss?" Silas asked before finally looking at the girl with a quizzical expression, "You do realise it's bad luck standing at the bar without a drink in your hand, right?"
​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Undercover
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Tag: Silas Westgard

Eve didn't look up at first. She'd felt him coming before he ever spoke, another presence drifting close, not threatening, but curious. Still, her shoulders tensed when he sat beside her, uninvited. The hum of the Force around him didn't feel hostile, but even so, it wasn't particularly welcome right now.

She kept her eyes down. The bar lights caught the silver ring on her finger as she slowly turned the glass in her hand. When he spoke, she winced, just slightly.

"I'm taken," she said plainly, quietly, still not looking at him. "And not interested. Thanks."

She let the words hang there, not sharp, but final. Like the edge of a blade held in stillness. She wasn't here to make friends. She needed information.

...But maybe this guy could help with that.

"Actually, sure. But no subtext. I'll take a blue milk."

Nailing this whole undercover thing again, Eve.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Corellia, The Jawa's head
Objective: Disrupt the deal
Tag: Everest Vale
Attire: Clothes

Shrugging, he took a sip of his drink and looked back at the line of alcohol in front of him at the bar. "Your loss..." the knight replied without resistance, not wanting to push his luck and potentially draw attention to himself. However, a few moments later, the woman seemed to have a change of heart. Unintentionally, he showed off a brief smirk before raising his hand and ordering a blue milk for the lady beside him.

"You do realise not every man who wants to chat has desires to get in a bed with you, right?" Silas asked jokingly, his light blue gaze looking at her eyepatch with curiosity. "I can imagine that eyepatch wouldn't be appealing to some people, especially if they remind them of individuals who are quite well known for their troubles in the galaxy." Silas internally hated speaking to people in such a distasteful manner. Although if he was going to temporarily separate himself from being a Jedi, he'd need to act the opposite of how he behaved.

"Not that it bothers me anyway. I've found them to be useful when I have use for what little knowledge they have.”
​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Undercover
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare
Tag: Silas Westgard

Eve took the glass he offered, fingers brushing condensation, but didn’t lift it to her lips straight away. For a moment, she just looked at him. Her expression shifted, a small flicker tightening around her mouth, the faint dip of her gaze. The words had cut deeper than she wanted to admit.

She let out a soft breath, pushed her hair back behind her ear, and forced a crooked sort of smile.

"Well..." She tapped a nail lightly against the rim of the glass. "You’d better be careful. I might be an incredibly dangerous, highly wanted reaver for all you know."

She lifted her chin, adopting a faux-serious tone, though amusement glimmered in her single silver eye.

"Eyepatch and all. It’s practically the uniform. Makes people wonder what else I’ve lost… or what I’m hiding."

The playful note faded a touch, replaced by something quieter.

"Though if I were, I suppose I’d have killed you already."

She raised the glass at last and took a slow sip, eye never leaving his.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Corellia, The Jawa's head
Objective: Disrupt the deal
Tag: Everest Vale
Attire: Clothes

"I'm willing to take that chance," Silas said with a casual wink, draining the last of his drink and sliding the glass toward the bartender with a silent cue for a refill. The woman across from him remained an enigma, her words revealed little, yet somehow deepened the intrigue with every syllable.

Meeting her gaze, silver, sharp, and unblinking, Silas smirked. The thought that she could've already killed him wasn't lost on him.

"Oh, come on. If you killed me now, it'd be a tragic waste of a handsome face," he teased, swirling the final sip of whiskey before tipping it back. "And let's be honest, it goes both ways. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't be bothering with clever banter. I'd have put a bolt through your chest by now. No fancy patch would fix that."

As if on cue, his new drink slid neatly into his hand. He caught it with practiced ease and took a slow sip.

"So tell me," he said, leaning in with an intrigued expression, "what's a girl like you doing here, drinking alone? Don't tell me your boyfriend's running late..."

​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Undercover
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare
Tag: Silas Westgard

Eve winced at the question, her single silver eye sliding toward him, cool and sharp.

"My wife is at home, thank you," she said, voice calm but edged with quiet steel. They weren’t married yet, not technically, but the word felt right, and it drove the point home in a way no other answer could.

She let the words hang for a beat, then turned back to her glass and took an unhurried sip, the corner of her mouth quirking with the faintest, knowing smirk.

"And even if she weren’t," she added, tone low and dry. "You’d still be... sh-shit out of luck."

The subtle jab wasn’t cruel, just precise, an Echani strike in words instead of blows. And yet her hesitance in saying such a rude word to the stranger gave her away as something other than a nasty badass. She shifted slightly on her stool, posture relaxed, but her gaze never quite left him.

"I'm just keeping an ear out for things," she said vaguely, as if it were nothing worth explaining. Then, after a beat, she tipped her head at him, silver eye narrowing in quiet amusement.

"You?"

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Corellia, The Jawa's head
Objective: Disrupt the deal
Tag: Everest Vale
Attire: Clothes

Silas raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and took a slow sip of his whiskey. "Wife? My apologies for the confusion," he said dryly, letting the sarcasm coat every word. Then, turning to the one-eyed girl, he added with a smirk.

"Please, darling, stop fooling yourself. In another time or place, you'd be all over me."

The mock flirtation was all part of the act, smoke and mirrors to mask any trace of the polite Jedi beneath. Truth was, he had no interest in her whatsoever. When she offered her reason, Silas chuckled softly, his tone turning smug. "Funny, I could say the same. Eyepatch, attitude... you'd fit right in with the ones I'm after. Wouldn't be surprised if you were one of them."

He was pushing it now, cocky and unbothered. One pirate in a bar wasn't enough to put him on edge. If she even thought about going for a weapon, she'd hit the floor before her brain caught up.

He swirled the whiskey in his glass.

"Tell me, you're not in the business of enslaving people and tossing them out of airlocks, are you?"

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Undercover
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare
Tag: Silas Westgard

Eve rolled her eye so hard it was a wonder it didn't fall out. Her fingers twitched against the bar, briefly entertaining the image of planting a sharp backhand across his smug face. Instead, she exhaled slowly through her nose.

"Gods, you're a loser."

She didn't bite at his mock flirtation — it wasn't worth the effort — but when he mentioned pirates, her brow arched ever so slightly.

"No," she said, her tone level but edged with quiet steel. "I'm not in... that business."

Her gaze drifted from Silas, sweeping the room with an unhurried glance. The bar was full of the usual rabble: rough faces, shifty eyes, a few too many hands lingering too close to their holsters. Nothing out of place, and yet, there was always something.

Eve leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough that it would carry only between them.

"But," she continued, her lips curling faintly at the corner. "I might be after some… similar types."

She let the words hang there, silver eye meeting his with calm certainty.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Corellia, The Jawa's head
Objective: Disrupt the deal
Tag: Everest Vale
Attire: Clothes

Silas couldn't help but chuckle. "Point proven," he said, amused by her scowl. She was clearly losing patience with him; he could see it in the tight set of her jaw, the flicker in her one good eye. Honestly, if she decided to punch him, he wouldn't hold it against her. A guy acting like this probably deserved it.

He held her gaze a moment longer, and something told him she wasn't tied to the pirates like he'd first assumed. Sure, the eyepatch and attitude screamed rum drinker, but if she were crew, she'd likely still be aboard the ship. Besides, most of the lowlifes he'd run into lately were soft and sloppy. She, by contrast, looked like she could hold her own and had probably done so more than once.

"Is that so?" Silas said, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he set the half-finished glass on the table. "Now you've got my curiosity. Tell me, who exactly are you hunting with that one sharp eye of yours?"

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Undercover
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare
Tag: Silas Westgard

Eve didn’t answer at first. Her eye narrowed slightly at the next jab, though she let the smirk rise anyway, slow, tight-lipped and unreadable. She leaned in, just enough that her voice wouldn’t carry beyond their table.

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who talks so much," she murmured, her tone low and even. "But... fine."

Her gaze flicked around the room, sweeping across the other patrons — a tired Twi’lek hunched over a drink, a pair of humans deep in quiet conversation, someone in a worn coat nursing a bottle alone. Then back to Silas.

"I’m looking for... a pirate gang," she said, barely above a whisper. "Been stirring up a lot of trouble across the system. Raids, trafficking, sabotage. Nasty work."

Her fingers tapped idly against her glass, but her other hand had never strayed far from her belt.

"Word is this dive’s one of their regular haunts."