Private Haunting Past

[Dash Vikal]

The late afternoon light stretched long across the street as Dash made his way from his apartment toward the bar. The day was cooling, though the heat of it still clung to the pavement and the duracrete walls that lined the narrow avenue. Somewhere nearby a speeder coughed to life, its engine sputtering before fading into the distance. It was the sort of hour he usually liked. That quiet stretch between day traffic and the real nightlife beginning. Soon enough the bar would fill with chatter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of stories that had grown taller with every retelling.

For now though, the street felt… thin. Dash slowed his pace just slightly. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Nothing obvious stood out. A pair of pedestrians crossed ahead of him. Someone leaned against a building scrolling through a datapad. A delivery droid rolled past with its usual mechanical indifference. That was normal. But still the back of his neck prickled.

His gaze drifted casually across storefront windows as he walked, using the reflections more than the street itself. Old habit. Years of surviving on instinct had a way of sticking around even when life had calmed down. Nothing moved wrong. Nothing followed. And yet the feeling lingered.

Dash slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shoulders relaxed as though nothing in the galaxy could trouble him on a simple walk to work. But his pace adjusted without him consciously deciding to do it; just a fraction slower and just enough to listen. Listening was what he did well these days anyways.

A distant clatter echoed from an alley. A door shut somewhere behind him. He resisted the urge to look back. Probably nothing, he told himself. Just the city doing what cities did. Still… something about the air felt heavier than usual. And for the first time that day, Dash found himself looking forward to the bar not for the drinks or the noise; but for the comfort of walls, familiar faces, and knowing exactly who was standing behind him.

Tag: Kaelan Reiss

 

[Kaelan Reiss]

KAELAN REISS​

THEME​

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TAG: Dash Vikal
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Dash Vikal.

In Reiss’ line of work, everyone had a story. He had seen a lot of different stories play out in his few years of experience. Petty criminals with enough know-how and wherewithal to avoid getting arrested? Cake.

Outlaws who defrauded bigger and badder outlaws? Straightforward, if not a little dirty.

“Normal” people getting mixed up in shit above their head? Reiss' mentor Boros didn’t like those contracts really, so he had always veered away from them. To Reiss, a contract was a contract. He still had a line, but it was a lot blurrier than Boros’ ever was. The two men always had an ongoing disagreement on the subject. “Normal” people often only appeared normal, as one never really knew what bones were hidden in someone’s closet.

This was one of those contracts.

Reiss didn’t care what life Dash Vikal had before, outside of what his client had shared with him. Normally, it was up to Reiss to do all of his research. But his clients were very keen on motivating him to see the job through, so they gave him... quite a lot to work with. Like Reiss, Dash had at one time served The Empire, but as an interrogator instead of a soldier and operative.

It would seem Dash was pretty damn good at his job... until he wasn’t. And the collapse of the whole karking Empire didn’t help things either. In this new Galaxy we all live in, Dash’s former acquaintences didn’t really appreciate the... vigor he had placed in his craft. They offered Reiss a pretty credit-chit to deliver a bit of payback to the man - dead or alive.

Reiss wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty. Honestly, his approach to a ‘dead or alive’ contract rested almost entirely on how easy the target made things. Reiss had set the tone of the operation by tracking down Dash’s known aliases, which led to a few unknown ones. After tracking the ghost of Dash Vikal across several systems, Reiss had finally caught up to the kath hound on Telos.

Telos was neutral currently, which alleviated the risk of exposure to any state actors the man could have been worried about. Reiss proceeded cautiously as he set about observing his target, extending his surveillance across multiple weeks so as to allow for several days worth of breaks. Given the transient nature of the traffic on Telos, Reiss couldn’t be seen every day at the same places. He would disappear for a few days, then reappear to blend in to those who traveled to and from Telos with regularity.

Therefore, in establishing his own irregular pattern, he was able to observe and analyze Dash’s. He worked full time at the local cantina, which in and of itself structured Dash’s life beyond what he should have as a ‘man on the lam’.

Reiss had patronized the cantina on several occasions, even ordering drinks from the man on a few occasions and tipping well enough to blend in, but not so good as to stand out. Reiss had done so enough to provide a sense of normality to his presence - as though he posed no threat to the man if his face had been seen on occasion throughout the town.

But today would be very very different.

Reiss began walking away from the bar, in the opposing direction of Dash’s approach. He walked a ways along the route toward Dash’s apartment, until he saw the man roughly halfway along the path, approaching a bend that formed a blindspot from the rest of the town. Reiss’ bearing was that of a casual stroll, with little stress or thought outside of just enjoying the afternoon. As he neared the bartender, he locked eyes with him and gave him a familiar nod - the sort one would give a recognized acquaintance and little more. “Hey.”

He said familiarly. As he was about to pass Dash, and was positioned just at the man’s blindspot, Reiss pulled out a stun baton and lashed out from behind Dash - aiming a surprise blow toward the man’s head in an attempt to stun him in one blow.

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[Dash Vikal]

The sound was small. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it. A faint shift of weight behind him. The whisper of something sliding free. But Dash did. The prickling at the back of his neck sharpened instantly into something colder. Years of old instincts snapped awake before conscious thought could catch up. His head started to turn, shoulders beginning to twist toward the movement -

Too late.

The stun baton cracked against the side of his shoulder and clipped the edge of his skull instead of landing clean. The surge of electricity burst across his nerves like a flash of lightning. Pain exploded through him and the world lurched sideways.

Dash staggered forward a step, boot scraping hard against the duracrete as his balance tried to abandon him entirely. White sparks danced across his vision and a dull ringing flooded his ears. But he didn’t drop. One hand shot out to catch himself against the nearby wall. Fingers scraped across the rough surface as he forced air back into his lungs and blinked hard against the swimming haze threatening to drag him under.

Someone had tried to put him down. And they’d come close.

Dash straightened slowly, rolling his shoulder once despite the burning numbness spreading through it. His head tilted just enough to glance back over it toward the man behind him. Recognition flickered through the lingering fog. The quiet one from the bar. The guy who ordered drinks without much conversation. Tipped just enough to be polite. The kind of face that blended into a crowd if you weren’t looking for it.

Dash exhaled a short breath that might have been a laugh if it had contained any humor. “Well,” he muttered hoarsely, pushing himself fully upright as the last of the sparks cleared from his vision. “That explains the feeling.”

His gaze settled squarely on the man now, calm but sharp. “Next time you want my attention,” Dash added with his voice rough but steady, “you could always just ask for another drink.” As he spoke, his hand slipped beneath his jacket. Fingers closed around the familiar grip of his blaster before drawing it free in one smooth motion. The weapon stayed low at his side for the moment, not quite raised, but very much present. His stance shifted a fraction as he faced the man fully now. Casual to anyone who didn’t know better. Ready to move to anyone who did.

Tag: Kaelan Reiss

 

[Kaelan Reiss]

KAELAN REISS​

THEME​

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TAG: Dash Vikal
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Reiss had made contact with Dash, although it appeared to be a bit more of a glancing blow than he had intended. The Bounty Hunter paused to watch, hoping to see his target pass out on the pavement. Instead, Dash remained standing despite the intense struggle clearly coursing through his body. Reiss was honestly surprised.

Dash exhaled a short breath that might have been a laugh if it had contained any humor. “Well,” he muttered hoarsely, pushing himself fully upright as the last of the sparks cleared from his vision. “That explains the feeling.”

His gaze settled squarely on the man now, calm but sharp. “Next time you want my attention,” Dash added with his voice rough but steady, “you could always just ask for another drink.” As he spoke, his hand slipped beneath his jacket. Fingers closed around the familiar grip of his blaster before drawing it free in one smooth motion. The weapon stayed low at his side for the moment, not quite raised, but very much present. His stance shifted a fraction as he faced the man fully now. Casual to anyone who didn’t know better. Ready to move to anyone who did.

The two men were close to each other, well within effective ‘draw range’ when it came to blasters. The standard school of thought was, a person needed approximately 7 meters between them and their opponent to draw a blaster and fire off two shots within 2 seconds. Reiss was approximately 3 meters from Dash, and just as he reached to draw his pistol, Reiss was upon him - interrupting the action.

Reiss opened with another attack with his baton - attempting to strike him along the same shoulder Dash was struck by before. He said nothing, wanting to bring this target down as quickly as possible, with as much violence of action he could muster.

Maybe after this, he’d pour himself a drink.

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