Nar Shaddaa Nights

[Julian Valentine]

There was an irritating noise at the back of his mind. He squirmed in his bed, clenching his eyes to make the noise go away. Then someone called his name. His brow furrowed, and the noise became more insistent. It was the clicking of fingers. His eyes peeled open and he looked up at a fish. "Ugh!" he shouted, staring at the creatures bulbous eyes. There were over twenty million sentient species in the galaxy, and it was not often he came across a Mon Calamari. He had seen the fish people before, but didn't know where they were from or the name of their species.

They were terrifying to look at. The ugliest creatures to grace anything above the water. It's domed head and massive eyes studied Julian, laying long webbed fingers over his shoulders and gripped him gently. "Wshat do syou remember shlast?" the fish spat out, barely able to speak Galactic Basic with his strange mouth palate. Julian frowned, where was he? what was he talking about? He tried to think and he remembered a burning sensation. He shook his head, trying to rub away the memory. The searing pain, but the fish shook him, telling him that he needs to remember. He closed his eyes again.

The ship was coming down. The alarms were blaring. Fires broke out in the corridors, and he could hear the howling of prisoners in their cells as they were incinerated alive. The ship shook as they came under-fire from enemy spacecraft. Solo was stumbling towards the cockpit, throwing his now-dead assistant, Willow, out of her chair. Her limp body slapped against the ground, the sound of a bag of heavy meat hitting the floor of an abattoir. He winced at the sound. He peered out the viewscreen, but it was too late. He was about to crash. He could remember his body tumbling upon collision, then his head hit something, and he woke up here.

"The austhorities wissh to shpeak to you," the fish said, letting go of him. Crud, that wasn't good. "Where's my stuff?" he asked, and the fish looked at him puzzled, "Everyshing was deshtroyed in the crassh. You're shlucky to be alive." Solo went to start but fell back against the bed, holding his head. His headache was pounding like an annoyingly persistent door-to-door salesman. He just wanted it to go. He pushed past it, gritting his teeth as he stood. He almost fell, his legs were weak. There was still dried blood all over him, but his clothes were gone. All he was wearing as a hospital gown.

He pushed past the fish as the doctor shouted at his back, demanding he stay where he was. There was no way he was sticking around. A bounty hunter illegally flying in restricted airspace, with an outdated permit and license, tracking a senator. That called for jail time, and he wasn't calling back. "Screw this," he said in anger, kicking a trashcan on his way out the front door. A blast of chilly wind hit him, and he gathered the gown around him as best he could. The rain was pouring down in its buckets, and he made his way downtown.

He had been walking for something like an hour now, trying to find his way back to his apartment. Confused and in pain, he had stolen a new pair of clothes off one of the many homeless. It didn't fit him well, but the man didn't put up a fight. He had also bummed a cigarette off of him, too. He stopped in the middle of foot traffic, drew a lighter and lit a smoke. He inhaled deeply and slowly released, his body shivered with delight. He dodged a few pedestrians, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, as he approached a vending machine. It sold beer, that was good enough for him. He entered the credits, one by one.

[Theme]​

 

[Dom Volaju]

How do people meet people? And when they do, what decides the fruitfulness of their relationship? The old Chalactan philosophers believed that our interactions were guided by the "Way", predestined channels through which all actions were ushered like water through a funnel. The cynical denizens of Nar Shaddaa were more likely to describe the profitable results of chance encounters as lucky accidents. But do not be so dismissive, dear reader, for "accident" is simply fate misnamed.​

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Dom Volaju, a flowering criminal from the streets of this perilous planet, landed with a thud on the sheet metal cover of the public waste unit after a two story leap from the adjacent balcony above. Shoving a hapless bystander aside, he sprinted down the damp alley towards his repulsorlift speeder bike parked behind a small food booth.

"You karking thief!" a faceless man screamed from the direction Dom had come. "I'll have your head!"

It was 1 in the morning, and the items in the bag Dom was carrying were definitely not his. He jumped on his speeder bike and jammed the key into the ignition. "Thanks!" he called out to the elderly Jenet manning the food booth for watching his bike while he was gone. The young man slammed the clutch out of neutral and into first with a stomp. The speeder bike made a tremendous noise as it tore through the lamp-lit neighborhood and into the city night. Dom cut into traffic with the recklessness of a pod racer and weaved by the much slower-moving traffic. After a couple minutes of this, Dom turned towards his home. After exiting traffic, he leaned the bike towards a larger alley and glanced over his shoulder, confident that nobody had followed him. All was clear, and he grinned mischiefly out of the corner of his mouth.

Turning his head back towards the front of the bike, his eyes immediately set upon a man standing by a vending machine, beer in hand. This tramp evidently lacked peripheral vision, as he stepped carelessly into the path of Dom. It was too late. Dom squeezed the brakes, his speeder bike contracting violently as its rear end stepped out. It clipped the unwitting man, and Dom's over-correction sent the bike into a row of trash bins. The collision of metal on metal rang out through the alley, making a god-awful racket. Dom was thrown, rolling clumsily to a stop. He looked up towards the night-sky. "Ow..."

He picked himself up and briefly checked over his extremities. Everything was still there and working. He made his way back towards his bike with a mournful look about him. Forget the bike, he thought. He found his bag of valuables 12 meters from the speeder. He leaned down and cautiously opened it up. Peering inside, he recoiled in anguish. "Fantastic. I'm screwed."

A soft groan caught Dom's attention. Ah yes, the tramp he ran over. At least he hadn't killed him. He walked over to the dark-haired man and poked him with his foot. Another moan. "What the hell were you thinking, pal?" He gently rolled him over. He had a dirty face, unshaven and battered, though Dom would wager he was no older than thirty. He gave the stranger's face a gentle smack. "Wake up, sleepy."

[member="Julian Solo"]

 

[Julian Valentine]

The sweet crack of a freshly opened beer. He reached up with his spare hand and lowered his smoke, and raised the drink to his lips. He was just about to take a sip when he turned his eyes. The engine was deafeningly close. He saw it; a speeder bike tearing up turf and coming straight for him. After everything, he could only manage one word, "Fark!"

It felt like a speeding freighter had hit him. The beer exploded in his face, he dropped his smoke and he was launched into the air, up and over its rider. The world went black, and his body hit the stone cold pavement of Nar Shaddaa's streets. There was a wallop as his forehead connected with the ground. He couldn't see yet, and that was due to a lack of strength. He couldn't will himself to open his eyes. Pain flared all over.

He was moaning face-down. Someone flipped him over and smacked him around. The only thought he could think aside from the pain was that slapping a man after being hit by a speeder wasn't a fitting medical response. So he hadn't been knocked out all that long, this guy wasn't the emergency responders. When he opened his eyes his world was spinning.

He heard sirens, and they were closing in. They were the distinct sound of the authorities, and not medical help. The pieces were connecting together. This guy was running from someone, otherwise he wouldn't have been flying on the sidewalks. He looked at Dom in the eyes, and then rolled over and stretched out for his beer, drinking what dregs were left, and taking a hit of his smoke.

"Get me up," he asked with a cough, not the sick kind, the I've-likely-got-internal-bleeding kind. "I need to get to the Undercity, if those cops are after you, my place is safe." He paused, "But I don't know where I am," he rubbed his forehead. It was split and bleeding heavily, the thick substance drooling down either side of his nose and dripping from his chin as he slowly got up.

 

[Dom Volaju]

The supine man slowly opened his bloodshot eyes, and wheezed out a meek "Get me up." Sirens could now be heard in the distance, and second by second they were getting closer. Dammit, Dom thought. He reached out a hand and hauled the man to his feet.

"You look like hell," Dom laughed, observing the sorry state of the pedestrian. "Sorry about all that... crashing into you."

Dom threw the arm of the injured man over his shoulder and the pair began to stumble towards the dented speeder bike. Looking over his shoulders, Dom cussed as he could hear the police approach. "You're right, we're getting the hell out of here" he said as he saddled his speeder bike. He had no idea why somebody would offer to help the nerf herder that just ran him over, but at least this guy wasn't going to stick around to help out the cops. "Just hold on tight, you hear? Now tell me where you live or I'll be spending the night in a karking prison cell." The sirens were close enough now that their ear-piercing drone echoed off the alley walls. Dom pushed the ignition, but the engine sputtered and whined without turning over. This was not the time nor the place for this! Dom slammed his fist on top of the central control unit, and the bike suddenly roared to life. I'll take it he thought as he stomped the clutch and sped away.

 

[Julian Valentine]

He hauled himself onto the back of the bike, squeezing his thighs against it. He couldn't well hold onto it, his hands were full. They were used for drinking and smoking. The bike was just about as unenthusiastic about life as Julian was right now, grumbling in protest until Dom punched down on the control unit, forcing it to start up. It roared again, and Solo winced, knowing that was the last noise he heard before being rammed by the bike.

Dom took off, and Solo squeezed his thighs tighter to hang on. His smoke hang loosely from pursed lips as he spoke, "We need to go to Sansar Apartment Blocks, west end of the Undercity. You can't miss it, it is one of the smaller buildings, only two-hundred stories high." He paused for a moment, moving his cigarette away so he could down the rest of his beer, then tossing it over his shoulder.

The sirens were fading, slowly, and his headache was returning.

 

[Dom Volaju]

With the scream of the speeder engine compounded by the wail of nearby sirens, it was difficult even to hear two feet behind you. Dom leaned back and yelled "What?!" after he missed the stranger's first comments. "Sansar apartment blocks, west end of the undercity." He heard it this time. With a few pokes into his practically ancient maps program, they were on their way. At the end of a narrow boulevard, Dom yanked back on the right handlebar and the bike jutted into traffic of a major thoroughfare. The cops had no chance of finding them in this traffic, their meager pay too low for this kind of effort.

--------​

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With a beep, the maps program signaled that the duo had arrived at their destination. It was a decrepit tenement, though so many in the undercity were. Its worn facade leered over the street, though it was hardly distinguished among the rows of similar buildings. To be on the ground in the undercity was to be as a speck of dust in an overgrown lawn. Moonlight fought futilely to creep through the mass of buildings. Instead, artificial means were used to light the streets. Dom slowed the bike to a crawl and parked in a stall adjacent the building. Turning the engine off, he engaged the kickstand and activated the craft's anti-theft measures. Dom hopped off and wiped the sweat from his palms. Turning towards the stranger, he gave a nod and said "I think we've lost them, but I'd rather not wait outside to find out."

 

[Julian Valentine]

"I think we've lost them, but I'd rather not wait outside to find out," the man said. Julian bobbed his head and got off the bike. He rested his hand against his head, as though it would stem the pounding. He made his way through the front door and someone called out, a green-skinned Rodian who looked a bit down on his luck, "Eh, Solo, you ain't looking good today. Better keep your head down, your face is all over the news. Your ship crashed into the Red Sector, costing corporate a damn fortune for clean up. Hah!" Julian waved his hand, "Thanks man, always keeping an ear to the ground for me, aren't you, Joreso." The Rodian hiked a thumb to the elevator, "Some of your pals were asking around, they said they knew you so I supposed I gave them your room number." Julian frowned. He didn't have friends, just people he knew, and the only person who knew where he lived was Joreso.

Solo lead the way, taking the express elevator to his floor, 125. He moved across the rooms until he came to 27, the door was off its hinges and flat down on the floor. He took a peak inside. To his newly-found friend, it may look like someone had come through the room and tore it apart looking for something, but Solo knew they hadn't touched anything. It was always that dirty. "Huh," was all he huffed, turned to door 28 and knocked loudly. The music was deafening inside the room, and Solo doubted the person could have heard him. So he knocked louder. Maybe they saw the men or women looking for him. Truthfully he never paid attention to his neighbors, and they didn't pay attention to him. That is the way he liked it.

@Jen

 

[Jen]

[x]​

It had been some time since she had last dyed her hair, Jennifer realized as she was brushing her teeth. The hair by her scalp had grown out somewhat, a natural white centimeter striking a deep contrast to the rest of her black dyed haircut. Even the bangs had faded in color. That however, she didn’t realize in the dim lighting of the bathroom she was standing in, the music from her living room blasting throughout her small apartment. She stopped her morning ritual (who are you to talk about circadian rhythms) to inspect her hair upon noticing, greeting the centimeter with the feeling of mild annoyance. Dyeing was a pain in the ass. Furthermore, it costed credits, a thing she did not have much of these days. With a groan, she let a hand run through her greasy, tangled mess of a hairdo and stared at the reflection of the cracked mirror.

She would not have believed that what stared back was herself, had it not been for the fact that she felt just as poodooty as she looked. Smeared eyeliner surrounded her eyes and covered up the dark circles that could be found under, a sign of sleep deprivation. She had also lost weight over the past many months, making her cheekbones a more apparent feature of her face than usual. Nevertheless, it was not all bad, she mused. At least she had a roof over her head. Turning away from the cracked mirror of the bathroom, she walked into the only other room of her apartment, dodging the deactivated shell of what formerly could have been classified as a guard droid, its components now salvaged for the large computer that she was on her way towards. Numerous screens were lit, irritatingly bright in contrast to the darkened room they were placed in.

Upon reaching the large table the computer stood on, Jennifer slowly sat down in a chair by the table. A tired sigh escaping over her lips as she was seated, the sound suppressed, along with the constant hum of cooling liquids in the computer, by the booming music that played from speakers in the corners of her room. She glanced between the screens and after brief consideration snatched a pair of round sunglasses from the surface of the table, putting them on as she turned the volume to the music up a notch.

--- A couple of hours later ---​

The door to apartment 28 opened after continuous knocking, a thick security chain making sure the door wasn’t opened all the way, the rowdy music from inside increasing in volume to those that had been standing outside. A pair of round sunglasses appeared in the opening along with the girl who was wearing them. She said something, not loud enough for the pair to hear over the deafening music. She must've realized this a second after, deciding to yell instead: “What do you want?!” Jennifer asked aggressively as she eyed the two men, using the hand that wasn’t holding the door to raise the sunglasses from her nose and over her eyes so she could get a better look at them. The one who stood closest to the door she had seen before, once, twice perhaps. She believed it was her neighbor.

She had only really communicated with the guy once and even then, it had been a brief exchange. A loud series of knocks on her wall and a yell that had asked her to turn down the volume of her music, provoking her response to be the exact opposite. She did not believe he was the stay-at-home type so she was surprised to see him. The other man, the one with his hands in his pockets, she had never seen before. Perhaps a friend of his? “I’m not turning the music down if that’s what you’re about to ask!” She yelled, trying to once again to talk over the intense music.

 

[Julian Valentine]

As the door open the music exploded in his face, he had to cover his ears in a feeble attempt to nurture his headache away. When his neighbor showed her head, she looked just like he thought she would. Spice addict, or so he assumed. She said something, but she repeated herself and shouted it. “What do you want?! I’m not turning the music down if that’s what you’re about to ask!”

"Turn your karkin' music down!" he shouted back, he turned and walked a few paces, when he returned he was holding a metal clasp in his hand, "This is my door hinge, someone broke my door. Did you see anyone?" He closed his eyes, the pounding in his head wouldn't go away. Like a battering ram, it smashed against the inside of his skull without end. He grit his teeth and swore under his breath. Kark it. That music had to end.

He raised a foot and kicked hard, old decrepit wood shattered under pressure. The door hinge twisted and snapped. The door didn't budge. He frowned. He just wanted to get in there and turn the music down, but there was metal plating on the other side of the door, and there were several more reinforced hinges along the plates. What in the name of the Force was she hiding from? "Just turn it down and tell me if you saw someone."

 

[Jen]

“Turn your karkin’ music down!”

Of course that was the reason he had showed up here in front of her door together with his boyfriend, Jennifer managed to convince herself as she let out a fake laugh that was drowned by the mess of sounds blasting from somewhere in the room behind her. She enjoyed the moment actually, the first conversation with some actual people for the first time this week, if you didn’t count the lazy Lutrillian clerk in the local kiosk.

When she had finished laughing her fake laugh, the neighbor had escaped from view and returned, now holding some sort of hinge. Was it supposed to represent some sort of representation of her? This guy had some weird sort of humor. He spoke, but it as well was drowned in the music. “What!?” She asked, turning her gaze back over her shoulder to glance over towards her computer, the upload was almost complete she noted. Suddenly he raised his boot. She sprang backwards just as the boot impacted with the door, causing her to fall onto the floor, as crunching and creaking was heard from the door and hinges respectively. Suddenly she was glad she had invested her credits on reinforcing that old thing.

Upon falling, she had stumbled into a nearby remote to control the amplifiers, turning the volume up yet another notch. The sudden added tension panicked her further, her ears falling deaf to the man’s sighs from the other side of the door. Where the kark was here blaster again?! Pumping with adrenaline at the sudden attempt to gain entrance to the apartment, Jennifer ran towards her computer table, stumbling over herself and some junk in the process, crawling the last meter towards the table. She pulled herself up from the floor, frantic as she scoured the top of the table, knocking empty bottles and plates down on the floor in the process. No sign of a blaster. Staring back towards the door she turned, the lit computer screens now behind her. And there, just by the door right side of the door, she spotted the weapon…

 

[Dom Volaju]

Dom didn't know how his new "friend" had come to live in this specific apartment block, but it looked like it was ready to be torn down. It's not as if Dom's living quarters were so much nicer, but this place felt as if it were simply somebody's memory of an apartment. It smelled of moldy carpet and trash that was left out a day too early for pickup. The elevator creaked as they sped up towards the 125th floor. Volaju was waiting for the traction cable to snap at any second, sending the newly-acquainted pair to a quick and untimely death. As fate would have it, death would have to wait. The doors stuttered open and the pair walked down a dimly-lit gray and green hallway until they reached apartment #27. The door was off its hinges and lying in front of the frame. "Hmm..." Dom uttered, bemused at his companion's sour luck.

The man brushed by Dom and stood in front of the apartment across his own, #28. He gave it a swift knock, but they both knew that was pointless-- the room was drowning in music, the door and walls the only thing between them and permanent hearing loss. After another harder knock, the door popped open and out escaped a caged beast of high decibel levels. Dom winced, hunching his shoulders. His friend and the girl who lived in the apartment began a back and forth argument, though it seemed neither side could hear each other. Frustrated, the man kicked the door, sending the girl reeling back inside. Dom chuckled incessantly. What a circus. He walked down the hall and stopped in front of a square metal box. You see, slummy tenements like this often had universal circuit breakers that were accessible with a key. If you stopped paying your bills, your landlord came by and simply flipped a few switches. Dom retrieved a screwdriver from a side pant pocket that he normally kept for... his "trade". Wedging the flat-head into a small crease near the top corner, he popped the box open. He ran his eyes up and down the columns of switches until he came to a group which read 28. He flipped a switch, and the music abruptly stopped. Bliss, heavenly bliss.

"As you were saying, friend."

 

[Julian Valentine]

Solo was an inch away from kicking the metal door, it was only a matter of time before that chain of hers snapped. Then the lights died and the music faded. Apartment 28 went silent. He half-expected a demonic shriek from the girl, a wailing of some type of tormented soul. He peered through the cracks and saw her on the other side of the room, staring at something on the floor near him. His eyes fell down to see what she was staring at. It was a blaster. Just great. He wanted answers, not a scorched liver.

He barged against the door, once, twice, and thrice, the chain snapped. The door flung wide open. He reached down for the blaster and pocketed it into the waistband of his jeans. "You don't want to shoot me, love," he said to her. He looked at her, seeing the creeping indicators of white hair among the black mop on her head. He frowned. He studied the ridges of her face, her lips and the color of her eyes. He swore he had seen her once. Couldn't be. The Ravens were long dead, and most of the affiliates were too. Not that Julian had been a Raven, he was just a gun for hire for the crime syndicate. Nothing more.

He looked up at the high tech computers at her desk. She wasn't just a dweller, she knew something about technology. "Oi, I said someone broke into my room." He then pointed at the computer, "You know anything about slicing? Think you could connect to the buildings CCTV?" Irony was that he had now broken into her apartment. He poked his head down the hallway, "Oi.. guy," he realized he didn't even know his name, "Here's a paycheck for the ride," He pulled the blaster from his jeans and tossed it his way. "The names Solo," he said to him, and then looked to Jen, introducing himself to the two of them, "Bounty Hunter."

 

[Jen]

The lights shut off, the music died. The already scarcely lit apartment turning even darker as multiple screens attached to the computer flickered and went gloomy. The apartment’s main lighting now gone. Slowly, the constant buzzing from the large computer on the table died and left the room quiet in an eerie silence. Some of the equipment behind her were still running however, probably staying alive on backup battery packs. Jennifer turned towards the largest screen, and the computer it was connected to, both having turned off. Just like that, a weeks worth of careful work had been destroyed. Bugs simply did not get planted into high-security networks by themselves.

The anger that had built up in her in the moments following the power cut was once again mixed with a dose of fear as the door was kicked at one more time, the sound now surprisingly violent, as the music was not there to suppress the racket. One, two, three hard knocks did it take before the door gave away and slammed aside, allowing the two outside entrance. It was not really an option to run for the blaster by the door given the distance and the fact that as her neighbor stepped into the small room he picked it up, casually grabbing it as if it was something he had previously left there, and owned. "You don't want to shoot me, love." He said, perhaps as a warning of some kind. Her mind fluttered to potential weapons in case it came to it, she was certain she had left a vibro knife by the fridge, one of the sharp ones. Fixated, not daring to move just yet, her eyes glanced towards the couch area in the small one room apartment where the fridge stood. "Oi, I said someone broke into my room.” He continued: “You know anything about slicing? Think you could connect to the buildings CCTV?" She was baffled, stunned for a moment as her visage turned back towards him. That was all he wanted?

“The kark man. You didn’t have to break my door down for poodoo like this!” She raised a middle finger at him, her arms and neck covered in tattoos, the rest of the art hidden by a size too large black t-shirt. She continued to speak, replying to his last questions, a hint of pride heard in her voice under the obviously aggressive and angered, tensed up and ready to fight attitude “And of course. That's what I do. What else do you think that thing is for?” She asked ironically, vaguely throwing her eyes towards the computer. The neighbor looked back out the door he had just decimated a second before and threw her blaster towards who she could only assume was the one responsible for the power shortage. She raised a hand in protest, taking a step forward, her eyes following the blaster as it was thrown. “Hey... I need that…!”

 

[Dom Volaju]

Dom shook his head, smiling in disbelief. This cowboy handled things with the care of a Wookiee. The man entered the girl's apartment, and then reappeared in the doorway. "Here," he said as he casually tossed a blaster towards Dom. Dom caught the blaster, and tucked it into his pant waist behind his back. "The name's Solo. Bounty Hunter"

No shiet, he thought to himself. "I'm Dom. Dom Volaju. I do things people want done."

With that, he flipped the circuit breaker switch back to its original "on" position.

 

[Jen]

Power was back on. The bathroom light flickered, breaking the shadows in apartment 28 through the open door to the only room in the small apartment. Yet the computer stayed dead as of now, not turning on by itself. Jennifer was still weary of her neighbor, who was apparently called Solo, and his friend. They had after all just kicked down her door. She didn't share her own identity just yet, knowing just how well her name could be recognized, she even believed that there was some old bounties on her. Didn't seem safe to share such in such a close proximity to a Bounty Hunter.

"So that's all you want? Get a connection to the security cams? And what makes you think I would do that for someone like you? Oh and just so you know, I expect you pay for the karking door you just broke." It was interesting, the way she talked. Her voice holding the tone of a youth who had grown up in a rough environment, yet an odd accent, almost as if she was following a melody, could still be heard in it.

 

[Julian Valentine]

The girl spoke back, "So that's all you want? Get a connection to the security cams? And what makes you think I would do that for someone like you? Oh and just so you know, I expect you pay for the karking door you just broke." Julian was stumped. There was no reason she should help him, and he was half-betting on her telling him her name. He threw in bounty hunter for a bargain of trust. He needed to know if he was right, that she was a Raven.

He strode from her room, almost out of options, only to return with a common versafunction88. It was an old datapad, but reliable. He raised the datapad and aimed the recorder towards her. He was analyzing her facial features, and it took a quarter of a second for it to process. It was an instant hit. A bounty came up. Former Red Raven. Bounty was a few years old, it was a dead bounty. You don't get paid for old jobs. She didn't need to know that.

"Like I said, I'm a bounty hunter. I could employ you, or I could use you for employment - if you get my meaning," he turned the datapad around but discreetly held his thumb over the posting date. Julian wasn't dumb enough either to go after Ravens. Their flock was scattered but that didn't make the old members any less dangerous. He knew how dangerous they could be, he saw what they did to Barab I. It was almost genocide. All for greed.

 

[Jen]

Solo had returned with a datapad. Just a quarter of a second too late Jennifer realized what he was doing and too late, she reacted as the recorder was turned on. She sprung forward and swiped after the datapad with an open hand in an attempt to knock it out of Solos’, her fingers flew harmlessly through thick air of the badly ventilated room however, and she fell silent. She had been too far away from the neighbor to do anything.

She sighed in deep frustration and unnoticed by herself, she began tapping her foot against the floor of the apartment, her mind racing as she tried to figure out the possible outcomes to the situation. As he turned the datapad for her to see, she saw what she had expected. Well, the bounty was actually somewhat larger than what she would have thought. She only briefly ran her eyes over the outdated bounty, her mind occupied as she had now gotten confirmation on the fact that she was still been searched for. Or at least she thought. "Like I said, I'm a bounty hunter. I could employ you, or I could use you for employment - if you get my meaning." She frowned at the words. She did not work free and she was not so sure that this ragged looking neighbor of hers could provide the funds she normally needed to complete tasks. However, perhaps he only meant these simple CCTV recordings and hey, either way it was better than being turned in for a bounty. “Fair enough…” She started her sentence out, beginning to walk back towards the computer table, the screens turning on one by one. “But I still expect you to pay for getting the door fixed.”

The computers constant buzzing and bubbling were now heard throughout the apartment once again.

---- Twenty Minutes ----​

After having attached a wireless adapter to one of the nearby security cameras and overloaded the CCTV system by creating a deadlock function and popping admin privileges into the system before the crash, she had now established a connection to the CCTV. The cameras of the system displayed on one of her computer’s screens.

The music from before was back, she had insisted she could not work without the background noise. However, it was on less of a volume as before. Jennifer rolled a bit away from the screen displaying the recordings, sitting in her chair by the table. “The cameras caught something a few hours ago…” Jennifer mumbled dully, sipping on her half-burned-out cigarette as she made space for the two bounty hunters (or whatever they were) so they could get stand by the screen and watch the recording.

 

[Julian Valentine]

Solo felt like he had been waiting endlessly. He had no grasp or understanding of the complexities of Jen's work. His eyes tried to follow but he would just get bored and look at everything else in the room, getting an idea for the type of individual they were. When she said she found something, he ambled closer to the screen and leaned over the chair.

"Krud," he murmured, "I know him." A large Trandoshan had broken down the door with ease, but when he found nothing, he left. The apartment was untouched, just always messy. Other camera footage was shown, and he watched the Trandoshan across a series of other segments, walking down the hallway. Almost a minute later, the elevator opened.

Solo and Dom walked out, and before they knew it they were breaking down Jen's door. As Dom cut the switch, the Trandoshan was standing in the doorway of the emergency staircase, watching silently. Solo caught on and swore louder. No louder than the sudden blood-curdling reptilian roar he heard coming from the door way. He turned around and there he was, with a thermal detonator in his hand.

 

[Dom Volaju]

That ain't good, Dom thought to himself. The Trandoshan that the trio had studied on the CCTV footage had suddenly appeared, looming in the doorway. In his right hand was a blaster rifle. In his left hand was a thermal detonator. The bastard was using it as a dead man's switch! A smart move, as Dom still had that girl's blaster tucked into his pant waist. "Say there... 'Solo'... mind telling us who the kark this guy is?" Dom held his arms out as not to scare the big ugly reptile into doing something stupid.

Out of the corner of his eyes, something caught Dom's attention. When the girl had sliced into the CCTV system, she left the live feed of the building's stairwell on in the corner of the screen. He knew those figures he saw-- armed and armored--running up the stairwell were a much bigger problem than this cold-blooded lunatic ten feet away. It was a district police special tactical unit, though in Dom's neck of the woods they were called "Lawgivers". Simply put, they are trained to apprehend the most dangerous of criminals with extreme prejudice. Of course, they often end up apprehending a corpse. He knew all the horror stories surrounding their mythos from the syndicate grapevine.

Dom was about to alert the others, but he bit his tongue. He heard the door at the end of the hallway pop open. The Trandoshan was lost in his own world of whatever perverted revenge he was planning for Solo the bounty hunter. He didn't hear the Lawgivers making their way down the hallway. Dom could only imagine the looks on their faces when they realized they had strolled up to this situation.

"Sunofa..." one of them blurted out. "Drop the weapons or DIE!"

Dom winced in preparation for the apocalypse in this room. Just live, baby.

 

[Julian Valentine]

Dom was holding his hands out in an attempt to pacify the Trandoshan. "Say there... 'Solo'... mind telling us who the kark this guy is?" he said, Solo mumbled, "Eh, uhm, well, I kind of captured him and shot off all his limbs back on Coruscant. In all fairness he's wanted for attempted genocide." Solo mimicked the same, holding his arms up in surrender. His eyes darted to see what Dom was looking at, and it wasn't good. The authorities had finally caught up to him.

By the time Solo looked back they were at the door, blasters raised. A screaming match ensued between them and the Trandoshan. One of them got trigger happy and fired, the Trandoshan howled in pain, dropping the detonator. The room fell silent, then all at once the shriek of a blast erupted and sent a shockwave through the room. The Trandoshan had been instantly vaporized, but there was still enough of the authorities that you could make out the patches on their clothes, but otherwise they were missing half their bodies.

"Well," Solo commented in the silence, "We're farked."