Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Pest Control

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CORUSCANT | LOWER LEVELS
EVENING | CLOUDY
TAGS: Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
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Ara adjusted her leather jacket as she moved through the streets, her gaze locked onto a small group walking along. She was surprised when she was given a mission to inspect some kind of disturbance in the lower levels of the city, though the mission itself wasn't the issue for her. It was the location itself. The Zabrak's gaze was cold and her face was hardened as she blended in perfectly with the seedy individuals around her. It was a bad part of town... the type of part she was quite used to. Luckily her jacket wouldn't get her into any trouble so far above Underworld, the gang on the back of it was long gone, courtesy of her mother.

The rumours of trafficking and even potential lightsaber smuggling was a serious issue, which was why she had orders not to engage them if it could be helped. Self defense only. As much as she wanted to take her lightsaber, pin the schuttas to a wall and carve the info out of them, she had to shove her personal feelings aside. It was people like them that tried to abduct her on more than one occasion way back when. But it meant nothing now. She wasn't some lost soul in the gutters of Coruscant trying to survive.

She was a Jedi. She had to keep her cool in any situation. No matter how thick or thin.

However, something caught her attention. Another presence in the area. Close, too. They felt sharper than the rest around her. They stood out from the crowd of souls in the streets and alleyways. Only matched by the people she was tailing.

Another hunter, perhaps?

Regardless, This was Jedi business. Bounty hunters were supposedly off limits on this one... as far as she knew. If there was another group putting a bounty on this gang, it was outside of the Jedi's control. But she wasn't going to let a hunter get in the way of her mission.
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Lower Levels
Tags: Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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The streets reeked of poverty.

He knew very well how bad the Underworld of Coruscant would be, aside from the obviously prevalent criminal activity in the area, but actually experiencing it all first hand himself was very different from what he had heard and seen while browsing the HoloNet in the past. A handful of descriptions from various anonymous users came close to actually describe just how it was.

Although he didn’t think he’d find himself here in his pursuit of finding a place he could call home in the vast galaxy, it was a good place to start off as any other, probably the best one at that, with several benefits the planet offered taken into careful consideration; it was one massive central hub of activity in the galaxy, and of any kind at that. Everyone found what they sought after here in this planet, one way or the other.

He would never be short on work to take up, as well, with his skill set taken into consideration. Whether that would be mercenary, bounty or slicer gigs.

Even though he still retained his full backdoor access to one of the galaxy’s largest banks, siphoning half a credit on a monthly basis off of every client subscribed to their services, amassing quite the fortune every month, in disguise of some “service fee” from the bank, that went straight to his clan’s funds after laundering.

It was untraceable, safe, and in a measly amount for a singular account that nobody really even noticed. In the plausible instance if a client became aware of half a credit subtracted from their account, it was such a small amount on its own on a given account that they would not care or pursue where that money went, either.

Easy money.

But he had to keep his abilities sharp. And that difficult slice he pulled off, was for the benefit of his clan, not really for himself alone. And he was not about to use his clan’s funds to get by when he parted his ways with them not long ago.

And so here he was, pursuing a small group of men as per his bounty contract with the intent of neutralizing them; they numbered no more than five, and of course, they were armed and dangerous.

Although his personality differed drastically compared to the unsavory individuals all around him, lacking the distinct demeanor of a hardened street kid or a criminal, he fit in decently with the crowd nevertheless. He was dressed in plain street clothes, nothing too fancy; the only pieces he retained from the rest of his Mandalorian armor was his chest piece and his left vambrace. He wore a dark green shirt over the former, with a black leather jacket over the shirt.

The young Krayt adjusted his black cap, draping the brim slightly below his brow as he walked at a slow pace, seeming almost as if he was wandering in the streets of the underworld, all the while retaining visual contact with his queries, tailing them from a distance; he was not exactly in a position to take a shot and down them all. He did not wish to cause collateral damage, as well. That had the potential to cause a lot of trouble if the wrong person was to be shot -or worse, killed- in a crossfire from a plausible firefight with his bounties.

He had to find a way to draw them into a less crowded area, preferably a back alley of some kind.

But for now, he was content with tailing them for now. Perhaps wherever they were headed to, they would present The Misfit with the opportunity he desired.


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Ara watched the area around her as she moved, searching for anyone who seemed out of place. For the moment, she saw nothing. She was patient, though. The moment they changed direction, she would find out.

The other presence, however, became irrelevant when she noticed the group glance back for a moment and suddenly turning into a backstreet leading towards the back of an apartment block. Ara was quick to duck into another alleyway and stepped up her pace. If she was spotted, she had to move quickly.

Her gamble paid off as she saw them move through the gaps in the buildings as quickly as they could. They definitely noticed something. The Zabrak fell into a sprint as she manoeuvred to get ahead of them and cut them off, though it left her blind for a few tense moments. Luckily she got ahead and finally slid in front of them, her hand hovering inside of her jacket while the others.

The group immediately drew blasters as they glared at Ara. "Who the kriff are you?" One of them spoke up.

"The hell are you doing, just shoot her already!" Another spoke up as he shoved the first one aside and took aim. The moment the first bolt left his blaster, Ara's hand emerged and a bright, green blade exploded from the hilt in her grasp.

The first shot was deflected into the wall next to them, and the other was redirected to knock the man's blaster out of his hand.

"She's a Jedi!" He called out as a mixture of fear and opportunism filled their eyes. "Oh, this is gonna be fun." Another spoke up as they spread out, carefully watching the padawan as she grasped her hilt with both hands.

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags: Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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At first, The Misfit -on the outside, at least- remained non-reactive to their sudden shift in demeanor; although he could tell they were not specifically looking at him, deducing that fact by simply trailing their gaze with the corner of his eye, as he slowly shifted his visage away from them, he still felt unease settling within him nevertheless, as a series of questions now quickly sprung in his mind. What, or rather, who was it that had them riled up? Was it another bounty hunter? It could not have been him, right? If they spotted him amongst the crowd, how? What gave him away?

But time was scarce to ponder onwards; he could see the precipitancy in their movement in his peripheral vision before disappearing into a nearby backstreet. For the sake of retaining his concealment amongst the crowd, the kid did not immediately sprung into action, biding his time for just a moment before he made his move and pursued the group, in case they had a group of friends on overwatch that was supposed to cover them.

But he would not, could not wait for long as he entertained the idea of another bounty hunter after them. If that was the case, he had to work faster; fulfill the bounty contract before someone else could.

Upon seeing there was nobody else in the street headed towards the backstreet to back-up the malefactors he was after, the young Mandalorian began his pursuit in no time thereafter; parting the crowd as he crossed the street at an unhurried demeanor as to not draw too much attention, yet not foregoing some form of haste all the same, the kid reached the mouth of the backstreet in no time. The Misfit began moving with heightened caution down the backstreet in pursuit of the thugs; Slipping his right hand into his leather jacket, the young Mandalorian produced a master crafted blaster pistol from the shoulder holster he wore over his shirt.

He could see them further down the relatively uncrowded backstreet, but another silhouette -a rather short one at that- stood before the punks with noticeable defiance. With the attention of the thugs within the firm grasp of the sixth silhouette standing in front of them, The Misfit swiftly took cover behind a dumpster nearby as they drew weapons at the sixth, unknown silhouette.

Not a moment thereafter, things began to take an interesting turn.

"The hell are you doing, just shoot her already!" Another

When one of the thugs opened fire at the figure standing undauntedly before them, a bright green plasma blade emerged from the hilt in their grasp with a snap-hiss all too familiar, fending off the blaster bolt effortlessly with a precise flick of the saber.

A Jedi!

He was not really expecting to run into one of their kind in the deepest bowels of the Coruscant underworld, but the Jedi had to be after the thugs he too was after, logic stated.

Wasting not a moment as the thugs opened fire at the Jedi, the young man would make brilliant use of the fact that they were not aware of his presence relatively close to their rear. Peeking out of his piece of cover from a crouched stance, the Misfit swiftly trained the blaster on the thug closest to him, and pulled back the trigger with a gentle squeeze; the man fell face first onto the ground as the golden bolt left a see-through hole on his back.

Unused to the immense recoil of the weapon, it took him a bit longer than usual to acquire sights again onto the next thug after fighting back the kick of the immensely powerful weapon in his hands after the first shot, but this small time frame had allowed the thugs to react to this newer threat that beset them from their six o’clock. Scurrying for cover, they were quick to divide their attention between the Jedi and The Misfit.

Finding himself under suppressing fire from two of them, The Misfit dipped back into cover, counting their shots for the opportune moment to peek out of cover and return fire amidst the hasty and sporadic blaster fire of the thugs.

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To Ara's -and everyone else's- surprise another shooter made himself known, dropping one of the thugs wuth a shot in his back. Ara's eyes went wide as she took note of the shooter and reached out with the Force, launching a nearby trashcan into the man. She needed them alive.

With their attention divided, however, Ara had her opportunity to move in and disarm the thugs. A slice through their guns, then a hard punch or push with the Force into a wall to knock them out. Two were taken out quickly, but the last two immediately opened fire on her.

Her lightsaber moved with precision to deflect the bolts coming at her as she backed up, before hopping around the corner to take cover. As much as she hated it, the stranger was going to have to deal with them.

She patiently waited for the sharp whine of the man's heavy blaster... but something felt off. She felt a presence from the blaster itself. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for the shooting to cease, before she finally stepped into the open with her lightsaber at the ready. "You're interfering with Jedi business here! Drop your weapon and back off." She ordered him as she slowly closed the distance.

Shootouts were nothing new to her... but basically beig a cop? That was uncharted territory for the Zabrak. Did she have to do the rights speech when she arrested them? Did she have to call for backup before or after figuring out answers?

"Um... Stay-stay right there, get on the ground." She tried to sound official and professional, but her inexperience was abundantly clear.

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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Bolts slammed against the dumpster The Misfit hid behind for cover. While he was busy counting the intervals between each shot, waiting for the opportune moment to swiftly emerge from his cover, neutralize one of them and dip back into cover again in rapid succession, he failed to take note of the trashcan flung his way through the use of the Force.

Striking him square in the back, the kid lost his footing in his crouched stance, falling onto the ground on his right shoulder and out of cover. Blind to the fact that this was the Jedi’s doing at that moment, he was spared not a single moment to gauge whether it was another opponent engaging him from his six o’clock, as a red blaster bolt found purchase onto his chest; The Misfit gasped sharply as the kinetic power behind the bolt punched the air out of his lungs. The chest piece of his armor he wore under his shirt absorbed the bolt, merely leaving a nasty bruise in its wake.

It stung bitterly nevertheless.

Fighting through the pain, the kid swiftly trained the blaster he welded in his hands at one of the thugs suppressing him as blaster bolts dangerously whizzed past him. The man tumbled onto the ground on his back at the squeeze of a trigger. As his friend gasped for air, clutching the bloody blaster shot wound on his chest in his last moments, the last of the thugs engaging him ducked for cover as the particle bolt intended for his head missed him by a mere inch, tearing a sizable hole from the ferroconcrete beside him.

He hadn’t gotten used to the beast he held in his hands, with this exchange of fire being the first time he got the chance to test out the master crafted weapon. Although it was pretty much the same model with that of the particle blasters he was accustomed to, this was a personal modification of that model.

Lying on his back on the ground as the weapon remained trained on the piece of cover the thug hid behind, the kid unleashed several more shots where he assumed the man was hiding; a pained yelp after the third shot resounded sharply in the backstreet, as the round overpenetrated his cover and struck him. Collapsed beside his buddy, the man was quick to share the same fate with the former.

With the second gunman taken care of, the kid swiftly turned towards his six o’clock to dispatch the unknown combatant that the kid presumed they were the one that had thrown the trash can at him; his head tilted to the side in curiosity, as there wasn’t a single soul to be seen.

And almost at the blink of an eye, it was over; a brief yet nasty exchange. Quietness got a hold of the backstreet as blasters fell silent, with only the low thrum of the Jedi’s lightsaber reaching The Misfit’s ears.

With a slightly pained groan the kid stood up to his feet; his black leather jacket dripped with all sorts of grime as dirt smudged onto it while he was on the ground on his back. The bruising on his chest continued to burn and sting him sharply as the kid drew a quick breath; keeping the weapon at a low ready stance with the barrel pointed at the ground at a thirty degree angle for rapid target acquisition, he took a few steps forward to check the bodies and confirm his kills.

The Jedi stepped into the open then with her saber held at the ready, confronting him, too.


"You're interfering with Jedi business here! Drop your weapon and back off." She ordered him as she slowly closed the distance.

”Easy, easy! he shouted in return as he took several steps back in a hurried manner, afraid of the possibility she might take the decision to strike him down. As he moved backwards, the kid slipped his finger off the trigger, raising both hands above his head as she drew closer with each step. Although he intended to comply with her order, he was very much reluctant to let go of the blaster, still. He hoped this gesture would suffice to state that he harbored no ill intent towards the Jedi.

”I mean no harm to you. I was only after these men here as per the contract I have undertaken,” he said, clarifying his intentions to the Jedi.


"Um... Stay-stay right there, get on the ground."

The Jedi’s follow up to her previously more firm sounding command had him pause briefly. It was not difficult to perceive from her demeanor that she was not accustomed to the position of authority, especially for an individual as sharp as The Misfit himself.

”W-will you allow me to reach for the puck in my left pocket to back up my claim?” he asked, his hands still heldabove his head. He really did not want to get on the ground face first on the trash and grime strewn street again, but if she insisted, he knew he would have no other choice but to follow through with her command. He did not intend to get into trouble with the law.


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Yeah, he saw right through her 'bad cop' act like he was window shopping. Luckily the lighting was bad enough to hide her reddening cheeks as she glared at him. At least he didn't draw any attention to the judicially challenged padawan as she held her lightsaber at the ready.

"Yeah... slowly." She answered after a few moments, carefully watching his movements until he showed her the hologram on the puck. The appearances matched the group... though it seemed he didn't realize the full gravity of the situation. "Okay, that's all well and good... but do you realize how hard you karked up my investigation?! These guys are supposed to be goin' to some safehouse or something. I was following them to find out where it was " She explained with annoyance in her voice.

One of the men below them began to groan as he stirred awake. "Tell you what, put that karkin'hand cannon away and help me get some answers outta this guy and you can take the two dead ones. I ain't takin' a bunch of bodies back to my people." She hurriedly suggested as she extinguished her blade and slid her hilt back into her pocket.

"Uh... how does this work...?" She muttered to herself before sparing a glance at the absolute street lamp of a dude next to her. She immediately regretted the action and looked at the stirring thug, deciding on lightly tapping his cheek. "Uh... yo, dude. Wake up. Come on, I need answers outta you." She commented as she slapped his cheeks a few more times.

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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"Yeah... slowly."

”Okay, okay, The kid acknowledged her request, nodding profusely. ”I’m now going to slowly lower my hand, and pull the bounty puck out of my pocket, okay?” The Misfit said, notifying her of his action a moment prior to carrying them out; his left hand slowly dipped it into his pocket while keeping his right hand above his head still. His hand would emerge from his pocket with the device a mere moment after. Pressing down on its power button with his thumb, the kid would slowly extend his left hand towards the Jedi to allow her to examine the bounty’s details.

"Okay, that's all well and good..."

At her words Kayl assumed a more relaxed posture. Turning off the bounty puck after she was done examining the bounty details he tucked the device back into his pocket as he slowly lowered his blaster wielding hand.

He thought he was off the hook.


"But do you realize how hard you karked up my investigation?! These guys are supposed to be goin' to some safehouse or something. I was following them to find out where it was " She explained with annoyance in her voice.

Until the Jedi raked him over the coals for a brief moment; a quizzical expression briefly emerged from The Misfit’s features as she mentioned an investigation. Although she saw for herself the felonies these thugs committed did not require any more thorough investigation, the kid was quick to understand that perhaps they were connected with either another felony or possessed important information for another case.

”I uuuh… he trailed off as he gave a quick glance at the three unmoving bodies closeby. He had not gone about confirming his kills yet, “controlling” them, but the massive see-through holes his blaster pistol left on them, with the pooling blood around their bodies, assured them their souls were long departed from their bodies.

Just as his lips parted to say “I can make this right,” one of the thugs she had neutralized via far less violent means began waking up from the blunt force trauma induced unconsciousness.


"Tell you what, put that karkin'hand cannon away and help me get some answers outta this guy and you can take the two dead ones. I ain't takin' a bunch of bodies back to my people."

O-okay, he acknowledged. Though he wanted to inform her he needed all of the five thugs dead in order to claim the price for their heads, he decided it was not the time to discuss that yet. As the Jedi hurried to the thug after the green blade of her saber snuffed out with the push of a button, The Misfit went about holstering the blaster pistol before walking towards a corpse of one of the thugs; a low, muffled, pained groan escaped his gritted teeth as the bruising on his chest throbbed with a new surge of pain every time he moved a muscle.

As he lacked experience in interrogation methods, he did not think he would be able to help her with making him talk, but he could assist her endeavors through different means. Lowering himself to a crouch, he slowly began examining the personal belongings of the dead man before him, checking the pockets of its jacket and pants; displeasure was laden in The Misfit’s young features, being up close to his rather nasty handiwork.

Trying his best not to pay attention to the gory wound looking back at him, and trying to forget the fact that he needed to collect their heads as proof to turn in the bounty, he was a little bit relieved when he found a datapad in one of the pockets of the dead man’s jacket. Got a datapad here… he muttered; he did not even register the Jedi’s inquiry as he was in the process of slowly, but surely zoning out while interacted with the piece of tech in his hands.


"... answers outta you." She commented as she slapped his cheeks a few more times.

Barely registering a few pieces of her attempt at restoring the thug’s consciousness fully, he spared the Jedi one last glance as he looked over the shining screen in his hands one moment before completely zoning out. I would suggest restraining them… the kid suggested in a tone close to a whisper before he completely zoned out, wholly focused on slicing the datapad in his hands.

Connecting a cable to one of the Galactic Input Bus ports of the datapad from the small computer terminal built into his left vambrace, it did not take The Misfit any longer than a brief moment to bypass the login; a civilian grade piece of tech. Its defenses were, as one would expect, quite rudimentary. Obtaining access easily, the kid navigated to the message inbox, and began sifting through the dead thug’s messages for anything useful.

Among them there were mostly social media notifications, several dozen quite basic Advance-fee scam attempts such as a Zygerian Prince offering free, hundred thousands of credits in exchange for personal information, and then several brief exchanges of messages with another person. The latter had some form of encryption, although it was very basic compared to some of the stuff he saw in the Net.

I believe I have an address for us to check, he muttered to notify the Jedi a moment after decrypting and reading the content of the messages.


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While Ara tried to get one of the survivors awake, the hunter was busy searching the bodies. Once he found a datapad, he seemed to zone out entirely as he fiddled with the device. In the meantime, Ara was left with a limp body in her grasp. "I wasn't supposed to engage, I was supposed to track and follow. Didn't bring anything to restrain people with." She admitted with a grumble as she gave another slap.

Releasing a sigh along with the groaning brute as Ara turned to look at the stranger. Her gaze moved down to the hole in his shirt and the faint glimmer underneath, the snazzy vambrace on his arm... and the uncomfortable look on his face at the death around him. Her thoughts were interrupted when he mentioned an address. "Oh, for real?" She quipped as she moved over to him and looked at the info on the datapad. "Aight, bet. That's good enough for me... guess you can take these dudes in if you wanna?" She suggested with doubt laced along every word.

She genuinely wasn't sure on what to do in a situation like this.

"Ya know... you're pretty sad for a bounty hunter. Flatline a Mando, take his gear... but you look like you're about to puke between all this." She remarked as she kicked one of the bodies. "You ain't used to killing, ain't ya?" She continued with a cold voice as she fished out her datapad.

:: This is Sheridan... ran into a problem with the target group. Was forced to engage, had a bounty hunter show up claiming ownership over the bodies... but I found another lead. Moving to investigate. :: She sent to the Temple. Apart from the fact that she had to engage and a few ended up dead, her mission was still intact.

Barely.

"Thanks for the help, I guess... wait, what was the address again?" She asked as she pulled her datapad back out to make a note of it. "You got a name, by the way, hunter? Just so I can tell my people who intervened." She asked him with a hint of skepticism in her eyes. She was sure that she would be able to feel if he lied to her, but what bothered her more was the whole vibe around him.

He was odd. Something felt weird about him. She had met enough hunters in her life to know their vibe. This dude didn't fit it at all. "You even a hunter?" She asked him more cautiously.

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags: Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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"Oh, for real?"

The Misfit gave a silent, acknowledging nod of his head at her inquiry without looking away from the screen for the moment. He paid her a brief glance over his shoulder as she came round and reviewed the information on the screen.

"Aight, bet. That's good enough for me... guess you can take these dudes in if you wanna?"

A muffled sigh escaped his lips as he lowered the datapad away from his eyes. ”They’re wanted dead. I can’t bring them back alive even if I wanted to,” he admitted the completion terms for the contract; his thoughts lingered on the subject. He was unsure whether he should be collecting their heads now or not. He had gotten himself into something here now, after all; but he was not so sure if the Jedi even wanted any more of his assistance for her mission, aside from finding the location of the safehouse the thugs were supposed to lead her to.

"Ya know... you're pretty sad for a bounty hunter. Flatline a Mando, take his gear... "

He would be denied further thought as when she continued to speak to him. The brim of his black cap would hide the eyebrow raised in mild surprise when she found out he was a Mandalorian at a glance. It had to be the hole in his dark green shirt that gave away the Mandalorian cuirass he wore underneath; he took a mental note of her seemingly sharp observation skills for the future. ”That is easier said than done,” he responded to her voiced out notion with mild annoyance. ”I was doing well until a sixth man threw a trash can at me; I was sure I had my rear secure but… yeah, I have no idea where he came from,” he glanced back at the alleyway from whence he came as he spoke. "Or where he ran away for that matter," His gaze would return to the Jedi’s visage afterwards.

"... But you look like you're about to puke between all this." She remarked as she kicked one of the bodies. "You ain't used to killing, ain't ya?"

The Misfit fell silent at her words; her voice felt colder than the chill of winter he had felt on Roon not long ago. He recoiled back ever so slightly as she threw a hefty kick at the body, sprawled on the ground beside him. Although her sentiment regarding whether he was used to killing or not was not so far from the truth, her assessment was incorrect.

This certainly was not the first time he took the life of another living being -sentient or not- and would certainly not be his last. He merely continued to hang on to his humanity, refusing to let go of it; he did not want to be desensitized.

But it appeared such things did not at all bother this Jedi, surprisingly. Were they not supposed to harbor some compassion?

”It appears you’re, too used to it,” The Misfit said in response to her kick of the corpse when she went about typing something on her datapad; his voice did not convey resentment or disgust at her action when he merely voiced his assessment.

Just as she turned around to say something to him, he noticed movement to her rear and in his peripheral vision; the remaining two thugs had fully regained their consciousness and were making a move for their weapons to get themselves out of the precarious situation they found themselves in.

The kid was swift to drop the datapad in his hands and grab the blaster pistol of the dead man he had crouched next to, with an impressive sleight of hand. Leaning to his left to avoid flagging the Jedi and get a better shot at the thug behind her, the kid leveled the blaster and squeezed back the trigger without a second thought. Switching to the next and the last thug as the man fell onto his back with a pained yelp, the blaster pistol shrieked sharply another time, dispatching the second thug.

”You should have restrained them,” The Misfit remarked with a non-judgemental tone of voice. He rose from his crouched stance, and nonchalantly tossed away the crude blaster pistol of the dead thug as he took a glance at the bodies strewn on the ground all around them. He was silently debating whether he should experience the unpleasantries of taking their heads and putting them in a bag or saving the trouble for later.

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The comment on bringing them in cold from him was a bit uncomfortable for the padawan... but not for the reasons one would expect. As a Jedi, it was her duty to preserve life and prevent the unnecessary loss of life. But in this instance... she didn't care. She didn't care what the stranger did to the two survivors at all. There was even a bit of her that wished they would suffer before finally kicking the bucket. That thought scared her.

But he went on before she could make a remark on it. She couldn't stop herself from forming a smug grin and twiddling her fingers as she looked at him. "Magic hand thing, baby. It's a bit unsettling when you're dealin' with five guys and a random dude just comes out of nowhere and kills your targets." She admitted as she looked up at him.

Holy kriff he was big.

”It appears you’re, too used to it,”

That comment alone had her smug look falter as she glanced away. He noticed it. Dude was pretty damn sharp. "I grew up here. Lower levels of Underworld... you learn pretty quick to do bad things to stay alive as a kid on the streets. People like these guys don't care what or who you are, they'll do bad-" A sudden shift in the Force had her igniting her blade again, but he beat her to the punch as he picked up a blaster and dropped the last two gangsters from plugging a bolt in her back.

She stared at the bodies with wide eyes for a moment before looking back at him, extinguishing the unstable blade of her lightsaber.

”You should have restrained them,”

"I already told you, I ain't got nothin' to restrain someone with. My job wasn't to engage, it was to tail and report back to the Order." She fired right back with a hint of irritability. "You wanna be smug about it, take your bodies and kark off." She snapped at him with a cold voice as she clipped her lightsaber to her belt. Thinking hard on the address, primarily because she was too stubborn to ask him again, she typed it into her datapad and searched for any options. Luckily the address linked to a warehouse of some sorts not too far from where they were.

"Now, you you don't mind, I got a mission to focus on. These guys are supposedly linked to a growing slave network on Coruscant." She commented with a frown as she checked her belongings and turned to leave. "Karkin' bounty hunters..." She grumbled as she began to put some distance between herself and the street lamp with a firm march.

Between him and the neighbourhood, this mission was steadily becoming a hell of a chore for her. Too many bad thoughts, memories of what she lived through, desires of inflicting pain and suffering on those gangsters, slavers and criminals...

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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"Magic hand thing, baby. It's a bit unsettling when you're dealin' with five guys and a random dude just comes out of nowhere and kills your targets." She admitted as she looked up at him.

So it was her! She was the reason he got shot by the thugs. Although the revelation of the fact would have a slight frown emerge from his features, he wouldn’t hold a grudge against her or seek ways to get back at her; logically speaking, there was a good chance she thought him to be another combatant during the brief exchange. He found it to be a reasonable reaction to an unidentified gunman in the middle of a firefight.

Merely continuing to listen to her before he neutralized the two thugs surviving the initial encounter, it made sense as to why she was so… cold, appeared somewhat ruthless and desensitized to taking another being’s life. Exposed to the brutalities of gang activities in the Underworld at a very young age surely changed an individual to their core. Anyone would’ve turned out like her or perhaps, far worse, if their upbringing occured in such an environment.

He began to wonder how she did not become a thug, the likes of which lay dead around them.

"I already told you, I ain't got nothin' to restrain someone with. My job wasn't to engage, it was to tail and report back to the Order." She fired right back with a hint of irritability.

”You did? The Misfit inquired in a mildly surprised manner. He did not recall any memories of the Jedi stating she did not carry binders with her, and that she was to merely observe, shadow the thugs to their safehouse, and report back her findings to her superiors.

Which, did not make a lot of sense to The Misfit, as he could recall in detail that she had pretty much confronted them first by the time he had catched up to the group of thugs he too was after in order to fulfill the terms of his contract. If she fully intended to remain within her set parameters for her mission, she would not have picked a fight with the thugs, he thought. And if what she said about her past were to be taken into account, then she also possessed the know-how and the experience to traverse any given densely packed urban terrain with relative ease and bend said terrain to her will in order to remain undetected; she did not need to fight them, neutralize them and interrogate them to figure out where they were headed, he thought.

"You wanna be smug about it, take your bodies and kark off."

Though his train of thought would be disrupted as she retorted at him; it appeared his remark had irked her. He did not think it would cause her offense. ”I didn’t mean to-” he tried to explain himself, but it was to no avail as she turned to leave while checking her belongings, and continued chewing out The Misfit.

It seemed she had a short fuze to go along with her height.

"Now, you you don't mind, I got a mission to focus on. These guys are supposedly linked to a growing slave network on Coruscant." She commented with a frown.

The kid remained silent for the moment as his gaze followed her while she began walking further down the backstreet; his head tilted to the side. Where was she going? The address he had found in the thug’s personal messages were on a different level than the one they were currently in. Two levels down, to be exact. ”You’re… going the wrong way..? he called out behind her with noticeable mild hesitance; seeing as how she had blown up on him just a moment ago, he gauged that being corrected would also yield similar results. He readied himself for another wave of irritated remarks hurled his way as he continued. ”Their base of operations, at least for this cell, is two levels down, deep inside an industrial sector,” he continued, hesitant about sharing more information about the matter.

He knew of the gang she was after; he did not know said gang were into slavery, though. Judging from the large containers he saw them ship in and ship out the compound, he thought them to be gun runners, or serving some big shot spice baron. First order of business when he had set up shop and made a home for himself, he had made note of them, alongside several other gangs in the area, as they were relatively close to his own safehouse he called home, thus wanting to avoid revealing the location of his home to a stranger, as much as he thought he could trust a Jedi with it.

”But tell me,” He would say, if the information he provided was sufficient enough to get her attention; The Misfit would cross his arms as he continued to speak. ”What is your true intention?” He asked; the fact that she had veered off her mission parameters had not escaped him. He would wager that she would try to destroy that cell by herself, with his observations in mind. If that was going to be the case, she could use some back-up; he too was not sure how many were in there as he never got their full numbers operating in the warehouse.

It would be dangerous to take the lot of them all alone.


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Ara ignored his half-hearted comments as she turned to walk away. She had better things to do than waste precious breath on some no-name bounty hunter that didn't understand the game. But as she walked away, his last comment had her pause as a deep scowl set in along her features. With wide eyes and pursed lips she plucked her datapad from her pocket and checked the locations.

He was right.

The address was a different level. There was one on almost every level.

"I know!" She argued. "I know! The app recalculates, ya know?!" She continued as she turned and held up her datapad. Depp down she realized that she was going to need him to get to the place. He had the exact location she needed. She approached him with a harsh frown, fuming all the way as she walked back to size up against the tall hunter. His next question, however, broke her harsh and rugged exterior entirely as she involuntarily took a step back, her eyes glancing off for a moment. "None of your business, that's what." She retorted as she turned away.

He was right.

”What is your true intention?”

The words continued to spin in her mind as she let out a harsh sigh. "I gotta bring 'em down, alright?!" She snapped. "I was ordered to track 'em down, report as much as I could back to the Order, then go back and let the heavy hitters sort 'em out." Those were her orders, but they weren't her intentions. Not by a longshot. She had to be honest with herself. She didn't want to back off and relay her findings to the order.

She wanted to do something about it herself.

"I don't need some air-head schutta tellin' me this or that, you hear me? Now are you gonna give me that address or are you gonna keep wastin' my time?!" She stepped forward with her chest shoving against his torso while her green eyes glared up at him with a look far more menacing and cold than one could expect from a Padawan.

The look of a killer.

"Those schuttas do things that will make a Sith squirm, I'm gonna take care of it. One way or another."

There it was. The real answer, even if not spelled out properly. Her eyes stayed on his as she waited to see his reaction. She wasn't going to waste her time with some half-baked bounty hunter. "You should get rid of that armour, you'll make any Mando worth their salt sick, seein' some phony sportin' their iron." She hissed, giving him a shove against his chest.

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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As he suspected, he was met with another set of retorts from the Jedi, proving him right with his assessment. The Misfit remained silent as she turned around, walking towards him with impetuous steps and a frown to match her angered, frustrated attitude; but the inquiry he had raised towards her had her pause, causing an abrupt change in her demeanor as she took an involuntary step back, presumably caught off guard by such a question and attention to detail to back it up.

The kid on the other hand, remained silent for the time being with a neutral expression, seemingly unphased by the Jedi’s retorts so far on the outside; he was exposed to much harsher notions by his kin, after all.

Although he was at first met with a harsh retort as her first response to his inquiry, her silence did not last for too long. She visibly pondered his inquiry in silence for the moment, with her back turned against him; finished regarding his question in her mind, she turned around with a sharp, frustration laden sigh before she spoke to answer his inquiry.

"I gotta bring 'em down, alright?!" She snapped. "I was ordered to track 'em down, report as much as I could back to the Order, then go back and let the heavy hitters sort 'em out."

He did not utter a word as he dared not to interrupt the angered Jedi as she spoke, simply listening to her; he did not want to provoke her further by making the mistake of uttering a remark at the wrong time. Though she did not need to continue explaining herself to him any further, as he could now see the full picture. Though her motivations for her need to carry out such a task by herself that normally her superiors were to handle was unknown to him.

It would be unwise to get to the bottom of that, he thought. Not now; he was already pushing it, and he could feel it.

"I don't need some air-head schutta tellin' me this or that, you hear me? Now are you gonna give me that address or are you gonna keep wastin' my time?!"

She made sure to help him realize he was pushing it, too, as she broke into her personal space without a second thought, squaring up to him; The Misfit recoiled backwards slightly from the Jedi intentionally bumping into him to driver her point home, but the young Mandalorian stood his ground nevertheless, meeting the pair of soul piercing eyes with a gaze of his own; the coldness in her eyes began to slowly but surely fill him with unease as she continued to look at him in such a way.

"Those schuttas do things that will make a Sith squirm, I'm gonna take care of it. One way or another."

He gave a brief, concurring nod of his head in silence, his gaze unwavering from her visage; he could most certainly agree with her sentiment and the desire to put an end to their wrong doings; as if committing their crimes weren’t enough for them, they tended to record it and upload it to the more hidden, darker and deeper corners of the HoloNet, for other sadists to watch and enjoy.

The things he saw while browsing those parts of the Net…

A muffled sigh escaped his lips in silent response to her lengthy explanation of her intention; taking two steps back away from the Jedi for ease of movement, The Misfit flipped open the touch screen of the computer terminal built into his left vambrace with an outward flick of his wrist. Reaching for the screen with his free, right hand, the kid began writing down the address for the safehouse.

"You should get rid of that armour, you'll make any Mando worth their salt sick, seein' some phony sportin' their iron." She hissed, giving him a shove against his chest.

Her remark though, would have him come to an abrupt pause as she shoved him back several steps, causing him to look up from the screen and at her visage; briefly, a wave of anger would wash over his visage as he looked at her. Although the anger was quick to be replaced by a neutral expression, the glint of anger in his eyes would be ever present as he held her gaze in silence.

He was criticized before, for being the way he was; but by his kin. Hearing similar remarks from an outsider who knew very little to nothing of their ways, a complete stranger, had a different weight.

After all, he too had his limits.

But he could not give into anger, as much as that primal urge to do so was ever tempting. Acting irrationally was not what he was known for, and he intended to keep it that way. What was he going to do anyway, punch her in the face for that? As much as he found her comments to be quite hurtful, it did not change the fact that she was an enforcer of the law on this planet, and he had no intentions of getting into trouble; not for this.

But he could make her eat her insult by other means, he thought.

Actions spoke louder than words ever could, sometimes.

His gaze returned back on the glowing touch screen shortly after her shove and hurtful remark. You want to see ruthless Kayl? The Misfit muttered to himself in a surprisingly calm tone of voice despite the simmering anger within him as his fingers danced on the touch screen; deleting the half written address of the compound, he typed in the address of an abandoned factory just two blocks away from the safehouse of the thugs. I’ll show you ruthless Kayl. Done inputting the new coordinates, the kid harshly motioned towards the datapad she held in her hands with a swipe of his index and middle finger joined together, gliding on the touch screen.

”Meet me there in twenty minutes.” he said, closing the touch screen with an inward flick of his wrist as he turned around. Taking a few steps towards the unmoving corpse of a thug nearby, the kid lowered himself to a crouch as he reached and produced a long vibro-knife, pulling it from its sheath from underneath his jacket, and a black plastic bag.

He had decided. He’d collect their heads now instead of saving the unpleasantry of it all for a little later. There were other hunters out there that had taken up the same job after all. He did not want his efforts to go to waste.


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Ara immediately took note of the anger that flashed across his features. She could feel the mixture of anger, resentment and determination as well from him. Was he just another random hunter? Or did the armour actually belong to him legitimately? Regardless, the Jedi and bounty hunter glared at one another for a long moment before he backed off and returned his gaze to his snazzy vambrace.

"What's there?" She asked as she looked at the address, but she realised she wasn't going to get an answer as he pulled a vibroblade and a plastic bag out to... literally behead the downed thugs. Ara was a little disgusted by the actions, but it quickly passed to apathetic dismissal as she turned to leave. "Fine... you better not try anything funny, though, I'll know if you wanna." She threatened as she started to walk away.

The walk itself probably took a good twenty minutes. Ara was on high alert as she navigated the lower levels, avoided any sketchy groups, and finally found her way to the location he sent. She was taking a massive risk in trusting the stranger. But he was her best shot. He wasn't going to give her the address, so she was forced to play nice wuth the schutta to get what she wanted out of him.

The building at the address looked dismal to say the least. She looked around then back to the building with a look of confusion. She didn't exactly have his number or anything. Did she need to knock? Call his name?

He never told her his name. Kayl, or something. She was meeting too many people in that section of the alphabet. Too many people starting with a 'K' these days.

"Hello?" She spoke up as she knocked on the front door and laid on the buzzer, waiting on some kind of reaction from inside the dilapidated building. Sje really hoped that she was making the right call...

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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"What's there?"

...

"Fine... you better not try anything funny, though, I'll know if you wanna."

The Misfit paid no mind to the Jedi as he stared at the corpse before him, with a sharp vibro-knife in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. He was trying to conjure the strength to do what he needed to do.

Collecting heads… This was going to be his first.

As the footfalls of the Jedi grew fainter in the wake of each passing moment, the kid sprung into action, following several deep breaths; hunched over the corpse, he ran the long and sharp blade onto the dead man’s throat. With every motion of the blade cutting down through the flesh of the corpse, he could feel his bile rise; the acrid smell of the dead man’s blood only made him queasy further.

Feeling he could no longer stifle the rising tide any further, the kid let go of the knife as he quickly turned to his left, away from the body and the half-severed head, and just in time; he regorged his lunch and all. Hurling for a good few moments, he managed to regain some of his composure to continue the deed. Working as fast as he can to get it all over with to cut the unpleasantry of this task short, it wasn’t for long he had finished severing the head from its body.

One down, four more to go.


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Back home, the kid lowered the black plastic bag -now full and heavy with the severed heads of all five thugs- onto the ground in the entryway close to the wall. With hurried steps he made his way to his room he had situated in the administrative quarters of the warehouse; tossing his black cap and the dirty, bloodied leather jacket on the ground, he made his way to the refresher to get cleaned up first, washing away the blood and grime on his hands and face. The cold water running down his visage after splashing some water on his face soothed him.

As much as he wanted to just sit in the refresher to cool down further, and think of the deeds he carried out today, he had no time to do that. Not yet.

Turning off the faucet as he left the refresher, the kid hastily took off the dark green shirt he wore over his cuirass, and other garments he wore and began suiting up, putting on the rest of his armor swiftly; there was no point of keeping a low profile now, not for what he intended to do.

Finished donning his kit and taking along his choice of weaponry for the task at hand, The Misfit slipped on his helmet as he walked the way he came; his rapid footfalls echoed in the empty hallways of his safehouse as he made his way back to the entryway.

Closing and locking the door behind him, he took to the empty streets, began making his way towards the rally point he had set for the Jedi to meet him there. He did not trust her enough to actually reveal the location of his home to her at the time, seeing as how they got off on the wrong foot, and were not exactly on the best terms with one another.

He didn’t even know her name.

Not her full name at least. Sheridan… That was the name she used to identify herself over her comlink when she got in touch with her superiors not too long ago. Perhaps it was a callsign, but it was all he got he could use to refer and call out to her. It was better than nothing.

His head constantly on a swivel, with the carbine in his hands kept at the ready as he traversed the streets, it did not take him long to reach the rally point close to the abandoned factory; and there she was, right on schedule. He could see her rather short silhouette standing before the front door entrance of the old abandoned factory. He slowed down his pace before entering her line of sight. <”Sheridan, over here,”> The Misfit called out to her at a tone of voice loud enough to get her attention as he walked at a relaxed pace towards her.

<”Their safehouse is just two blocks down that street,”> he said, pointing in the said direction with the barrel of his carbine as he walked closer. <”A large, rundown supply warehouse situated between two factory complexes. I never got an accurate fix regarding their numbers. Too much activity. There has to be at least several dozen in there, at the very least,”> he remarked as he came to a halt, standing a few feet from her. <”Are you set?”> he asked as the armored, featureless visage of his helmet looked at the Jedi’s visage.



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Hanging around the door with her head on a swivel, Ara waited for some kind of reaction from her knocking. She let out a sigh and raised her hand to knock again, when she hear her name called out from behind her. Immediately her lightsaber was in her hands as she spun around, only to see an armoured figure approaching. What struck her as odd was the presence. It was the hunter under that T-visor.

She didn't get a chance to speak as he explained the location of the gang she was looking for. Her gaze lingered on his figure fir a few long moments, studying the armour and how he wore it. He didn't just wear it, he fit right into it. Did he really steal that armour, or was he really a Mandalorian?

"The name's Ara." She spoke up. "Ara Sheridan. And yeah, I'm set." She turned to leave with him. She remained quiet for a few long moments before looking up at him with a frown. "Alright, for real, where'd you get the gear? You steal it or... or are you legit a Mando?" She asked him.

Upon reaching the general location, Ara set out to find a good spot to scout the place out. "Any good spots you know about? Patterns, location, whatever?" She asked him as she spared a glance at him.

She really couldn't get over the armour...

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
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"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


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"The name's Ara." She spoke up. "Ara Sheridan. And yeah, I'm set."

The Misfit gave a silent nod of his head. <”Right. Let’s get going then.”> He said after the Jedi confirmed her readiness. Moving at a heightened caution, he led her through several backstreets and narrow passages en route to their point of interest in the sector. As much as there weren’t a lot of undercity dwellers here in the streets, at least not at this time of day, that did not mean they could forgo caution and move freely in the more open and exposed parts of the streets.

As she walked beside him, he could feel and see her gaze wash over him at the corner of his eye, before she spoke her mind.


"Alright, for real, where'd you get the gear? You steal it or... or are you legit a Mando?" She asked him.

<”I have a feeling, that you will see the answer to that question for yourself,”> The Misfit responded with a mild hint of mirth in his voice. <”And soon,”> he added as he gave a brief nod of his head at the chainlink fence, further down the backstreet. Beyond the tall fence lied piles of cargo containers and crates in a maze-like pattern. Further behind it all was the target building; the loading bay of the warehouse to be more exact.

They had reached the perimeter fence of the warehouse and the surrounding factories nearby.

Lowering himself to a crouch, the kid clipped the carbine to his belt and produced a fusion cutter from his utility belt and began cutting away a sizeable hole on the fence; cutting through the thin fence effortlessly, it took him a matter of a few seconds to create a gap sufficient for them to intrude into the gang’s safehouse.


"Any good spots you know about? Patterns, location, whatever?" She asked him as she spared a glance at him.

<”Despite the potentially large numbers of thugs we’re going to be dealing with, many surrounding structures in the area are abandoned and ungarrisonned. Several tall structures in the area can provide good positions for overwatch,”> he remarked as he turned off the fusion cutter. Tucking it back into his utility belt, the kid unclipped the carbine and held it in his hands at a casual stance as he remained crouched, looking at the Jedi’s visage as he continued to speak. <”They don’t have a lot of routine patrols in the area. They’re not a conventional army we’re dealing with, after all. Though there are several sentries posted up along some of the windows and catwalks on the second and third floor of the warehouse,”> he added. <”The ground we will be covering is quite large, and we will be outnumbered greatly. But I have a few ideas to sow confusion and chaos amongst their ranks. It should help us out.”>

Slipping through the gap in the fence, he paid her a glance over his shoulder. <”Knocking out their power generator should be a good place to start. Next logical step would be to render their communications useless,”> he pointed at the backpack he carried with his thumb as he turned around to look at her while walking backwards towards the maze of cargo containers and crates. An antenna was sticking out of it; a long range comms backpack, modified by The Misfit, granted to undertake a wide range of tasking aside from fulfilling its original purpose.

<”There might be non-combatants in the area however. Best be careful,”> he remarked before disappearing inside the maze; it was not beyond the realms of possibility, that. He did not know the gang situated here were in to running a slave network and engaged in human trafficking. He assumed it was weapons and other illegal contraband that were in those containers, not people.

That changed things.

Taking a cautionary step into the maze at a combat pace, The Misfit would disappear from Ara’s sight if she chose another path of entry to take; whether she would join him on the ground or take a different means of entry into the compound was up to her, but he intended to make his way to the generator, knock it out of action and move into the compound.



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Ara let out a scoff at his answer and looked away again, though her eyes couldn't stay away for long as she took in the sight of his armour once again. She knew what Mandos looked like, everyone knew that, but she could count on three fingers how many times she was this close to another Mando.

She was going to be very embarrassed if he was actually a real mando... and wuth his secrecy, she was starting to think he was. "Alright then, keep your secrets." She muttered as she looked away again.

Soon enough they reached the perimeter fence and... the dude used a plasma cutter to carve a way in for them. "You, uh... realize these do that quite a bit better, right?" She commented as she held her lightsaber up for him to see. But the deed was done, they had their in and Kayl quickly began to explain the situation to her. Ara listened closely to his suggestions of targets, patrols, guards, the whole nine yards. He was starting to sound a lot more competent than she initially expected from him.

Who the hell was this guy?

"You take out the power, I'll go check the... what's that?" Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the loading area of the factory. Dozens of people, all run down with collars around their necks and binders around their wrists, were forced along and into one of the containers. A ship moved in and touched down closeby, clearly designed to ferry the containers. But what disturbed her the most was the sight of one of the slavers, seemingly giving orders to the rest.

Her blood ran cold and her eyes went wide. "It's him..." She whispered. A hand raised up to her left cheek, where the faint mark of a burn scar still lingered. "He's alive?" She muttered as a mixture of fear and rage gripped at her soul. "H-hold up. I... gotta do something first."

She turned away and pulled her commlink out again. :: This is Sheridan. Tracked down the main facility but people's lives are in danger. Moving to engage with some help. :: She radioed before turning to face him again with a shaky breath. "I'll free the slaves."

With that she pushed on, wrestling with her thoughts of what she was going to do. She wasn't supposed to be doing this... but those people needed their help immediately. Seeing that slaver, however, chilled her to the bone. All she could think of was him. What he did to her.

Drawing closer, Ara finally reached the dozen or so containers standing around the place. She could feel their distress, fear and pain. They needed to be helped.

:: Yo dude, I'm in position. Waiting on the power." She whispered into her commlink for the Mando to hear.

Kayl Krayt Kayl Krayt
 
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"The Misfit. One and only!"


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Coruscant | Coruscant Underworld, Lower Levels
Tags:
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan


enclavetest.png


"You take out the power, I'll go check the... what's that?" Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the loading area of the factory.

Getting her acknowledgement of the plan of engagement they’ve made in the span of a few moments, the kid was about to disappear in the maze and make his way to the generator, but would come to an abrupt halt at her inquiry. Unable to see who or what it was she was looking at, the kid lowered himself to a crouch as she continued staring past him through a gap in the containers closeby.

Following her gaze as best he could, The Misfit silently wagered she was looking towards the loading bay behind the containers.


"It's him..." She whispered. A hand raised up to her left cheek, where the faint mark of a burn scar still lingered. "He's alive?"

He kept his silence as she muttered to herself at a whisper; his helmet barely picked it up, as the loud engines of a ship passing overhead almost drowned out everything. He noticed her raising a hand on the scar on her cheek he hadn’t noticed before; it was almost healed, and the skin was healthy. She caressed it absentmindedly for a brief moment at the sight of whoever it was she saw.

It was not difficult to put two and two together, though; certainly not for him. The mixture of emotions visible on her visage, her scar she stroked on her cheek, and the mention of a man… Her past taken into account as a street kid, it wasn’t difficult to ascertain from what was known to him at the time, that the individual she saw was more than likely somebody that she had an unfinished business with she wanted to take care of; someone that wronged her and likely was the cause of her injury.


"H-hold up. I... gotta do something first."

The Misfit gave a silent nod of his head as he shifted his gaze back onto his sector, taking up overwatch as Ara went turned away and relayed her findings to her chain of command via her commlink. It would not be long after she sent her message the Jedi turned to face The Misfit again. Feeling her gaze over him, the kid looked at her silhouette from over his right shoulder.

"I'll free the slaves."

<”One objective at a time,”> He remarked as he stood back up to his feet from a crouched stance. <”If we free them too early with the majority of the thugs alive, we risk endangering their lives in a crossfire,”> he added; getting them injured – or worse, killed – when their intentions were to save them from further cruelty… he did not wish to feel the heavy burden of such a mistake over his shoulders.

Shifting his gaze to his twelve o’clock again, he continued to speak as he resumed his movement at a combat pace. <”I’ll knock out the power, and get the attention of as many of them as I can afterwards,”> he said as he took off at a more brisk pace.

Navigating the maze of cargo containers stacked several storeys high, he pursued his bearing without trouble; the loud, sputtering hum of the generator grew louder and louder after each turn around a corner. It did not take long for him to get into its close proximity afterwards; there was just a single storey high cargo container between him and the generator.

Leaping up with the help of his silent repulsorlift boots, he laid eyes on a singular sentry standing near the generator, smoking a cigarra; the Twi’lek’s back turned against The Misfit, she was unaware of his presence.

Sliding down onto the ground from the container quietly, he landed on the ground several feet behind the thug. The Misfit drew an eight inch vibro-knife from its sheath as he approached her, slowly at first; a grimace took hold of his features. He detested the use of knives, as much as he was really good at it. The sound of the generator and the loud howl of the engines of the freighter nearby could mask the gun report of a blaster, but he did not want to leave things to chance.

He had to take her out quietly.

Breaking into a sprint towards the tail-head at an instant, The Misfit pounced on her like a gurrcat hunting its prey; landing a stiff kick at the back of her right knee, he forced her to a crouch. In one swift motion following the kick, he firmly covered her mouth with his left hand and pulled her head back, pressing it towards his chest, exposing her neck; he could see the glint of confusion, brief anger and complete fear in her eyes as he drove the knife into her neck and upper thorax swiftly repeatedly, stopping only when the Twi’s body felt limp in his grasp.

Her body slumped face first onto the ground after a series of muffled gurgles escaping her lips. Her smooth blue skin, adorned with all sorts of black ink tattoos were now painted with the crimson of her blood; grasping her body by one of her ankles not a moment after the kill, The Misfit dragged the corpse behind a nearby pile of crates and barrels, with some struggle.


:: Yo dude, I'm in position. Waiting on the power." She whispered into her commlink for the Mando to hear.

He took a moment to respond to her over the comlink; fetching the dead Twi’lek’s comlink off her person, he tucked it into one of his pockets as he stood back up to his feet. <”Sabotaging the generator now,”> he reported back as he walked towards the generator, without the usual mirth in his voice; the kill felt… strange. He was momentarily lost in thought as he crouched in front of the generator and began sabotaging the device.

He was unsure what to think of it at the time, but he did not feel the wave of guilt washing over him after taking the life of another sentient being; not in the same intensity as before. It felt… right.

The machine's one last loud sputter before dying out ripped him away from thinking about it further; the once brightly shining lights dotted all around the compound and the interior of the warehouse was smothered, almost at the snap of a finger.

<”Power’s knocked out. Moving into the warehouse,”> The Misfit reported to the Jedi; standing back up to his feet, he let the repulsorlift boots carry him to the skies, high enough to quietly land on the roof of the warehouse. With his carbine in his grasp, the kid would disappear into the structure from a nearby skylight, entering the interior of the warehouse plunged into darkness.



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