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.