Private Shadows In The Light

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music IC

Practically the entire galaxy had heard of Endor. However, fewer knew of Cermau. It was a planet connected to the former, along the same hyperspace trade route, but was otherwise unremarkable.

Truthfully, despite being an explorer, with a heart that burned for adventure, one woman would have never drifted this far between the stars to arrive on Cermau unless the occasion called for it. As it so happened, it very much did.

It wasn't necessarily for the city. It wasn't really for this establishment and its music. It wasn't exactly for the patrons in it or the denizens in the streets. It certainly wasn't for the average beverage in her grip. It was for just one other person as much as a lonely rumor.

Fingers turn the gin on the tabletop, dry, with no tonic or cocktail. Lifts it, gin tips from rim, sips it, licks lips. Tastes like spiced pine. Can't complain. The drink wasn't quite her focus anyway.

No, her cybernetic eyes were on the greater floor of the cantina, Turner's Corner. It wasn't rich, wasn't poor, catered to the honest as much as the not so much. One shadier character, in particular, was who this Pantoran woman waited for.

She looked inconspicuous enough for the mission, dressed in a tan leather jacket, black shirt and jeans. None would recognize her for being of the light, never mind its shadow, though she did not sit alone.

Her and another, at the same table, were waiting for the arrival of their target. When that target was a known high profile criminal, wreaking havoc with the darkness of the Force, well, you might send in two Jedi Knights.

Though, when they were unknown, only suspected of being in possession of a Sith artifact, even if they didn't know it, and on this planet to sell it to those who also do or don't know, well, you just might send in two Jedi Shadows to investigate. And so they wait.

M Malum In Se
Lúa’Katal Vōd

 

[Lúa’Katal Vōd]

There was something odd about wearing common garb and doing away with the layers and bindings of armor and robe. A warrior ought to be just as deadly within as out of their armor, though.. or at least that was what the Guardians always preached.

Drinking down fermented plant sugars in the form of something akin to aged tequila, the Shadow Sage sat back and sipped. They did not know who or when and sort of knew where.. but there was much to leave up to the Force.

Kiffar at a glance, adorned with a qukuuf of an aged metallic gold hue that was framed by long curly hair — except it was tied back at this point neat and against to the nape. Donning a black mock turtle under a tanned leather jacket; there was not much suspicion to the two sitting based on outfits alone. They had picked away at a bit of food and drink by now but the artifact in question had yet to present itself..

Unless… unless that twinge in his finger was not the inkling of Force energies meandering toward them and was simply an ache in his joints?

No, it had to be. The surface thoughts of stress, business, secrets, distrust for one's surroundings began to trickle into the cantina's periphery and thusly came on radar for the scanning Shadow at the table. The cybernetic accoutrements his partner bore were quite nice for utilizing less of the Force. He himself was whole and traditional, but he made no remark or comment toward the augmented— sometimes it was not their choice to have such a thing be done to them.

For this reason, he had not brought it up. Merely complimented her when they had converged. It was times like now that he was thankful for differences and diversity, as she could see more without giving herself away or triggering anyone. The odds of a force sensitive observing their subtle work was rare; the Shadows did not have much room for those who could not blend or hide away well enough.

For now, Lúa drank his tequila and mulled over the smoky and sweet tones, mentally prepared to pull a knife out of the Light or lock the cantina in should he do what was necessary. Being so public and obvious was looked down on, and was usually what kept the eccentric at bay and out of complications like a shootout in the Outer Rim.

A case had come into sight, but it was not much different than the packs and rucks that others had come in with.. something felt different, though. More different than the Chev, the Twi'lek, and the Lasat that had come through the doors recently.

His eyes glanced to her own, adjusting in his seat just a bit and pinching the citrus-like wedge on his glass to suckle a bit of juice and pulp from it before dropping the gnarled slice into his drink.

It was almost time to be moving along, but the Force did not dabble with time so consciously as they, and for this he knew that soon was relative and unexpected as could be.

Vayla Mirana

 

[Vayla Mirana]

He was a Human. His garments were as simple as the two Jedi’s watching him from their table. His countenance, however, was as suspicious as he felt. His eyes darted around, held his case close to his side at the shoulder strap, and found a seat in a corner.

Jedi’s eyes meet before Vayla looks away, gaze on the object upon the table. The black case was large enough to hold a mobile computer but it wasn’t opened. The man just sat, and that alone was curious. Moments later another person arrived.

This one was a male Iktotchi with a pair of drinks. The two men greeted one another and sat opposite. The Iktotchi, in a crisp business suit, had a bag too. Nothing so different about it either, about the same size, except it was a backpack and was propped by the Iktotchi’s side instead of on the tabletop.

The two men engaged in conversation. The Shadow squinted, sipping her gin, straining to listen at this distance and amid those of others and the music. However, it was too early for the Jedi to move now. This could definitely be an exchange but they still had so little to go off.

"Should I be concerned you knew I liked whiskey?" The wind carried the Human's whisper over to the Shadow.
"Let's just say I had a feeling," the Iktotchi replied. "Nice place, by the way. Wouldn't you say?"

Public place. Makes sense. Made someone feel safe when it came to a certain kind of trade so that they aren’t as likely to be betrayed. Then again, as Vayla contemplated a deeper eavesdrop, she spotted a standing figure further away, the only other patron in the room who seemed to be interested in these two, and she couldn’t help but wonder.

Lúa’Katal Vōd

 

[Lúa’Katal Vōd]

There was something about the Human in common digs that drove even the common eye to seek somewhere else to look. It was not an unusual reaction for shady individuals to look unbecoming and present in a way that neither exposed them nor brought new company. An interesting way the world interacted with itself..

Nevertheless, the horned humanoid making way with alcohol drove the eyes to cut across the room in the opposite direction of where they sat, landing on the figure paying attention. In his mind’s eye, time dilated and allowed him a greater window of observation as he turned his head. In that slowed perception he took the time to look over the pair with acute detail. As his attention was drawn back to the present, Lúa’Katal continued to look around rather than settle on any one person. As the two spoke, Lúa looked back to Vayla while he brought his drink to his lips for a sip.

The comment of how the Iktotchi had “guessed” his preference of alcohol felt unsettling, and the human surely agreed — but he was not willing to compromise the situation. The human drank from his glass and had his eyes on his companion rather than the rest of the room. Calmed himself enough to stick through the situation.

It was an interesting moment to take in for the Sage, whose eyes would not fall upon them but whose ears and senses would remain homed in. He did well not to engage or draw upon the Force too much during this in the event anyone in the room was savvy enough to pick up on it. As Shadows, they did well to avoid being recognized, especially through the Force.

What would these shady cantina constituents bring forth to the situation? Time would tell.

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music IC

The third figure turned out to be a Zabrak woman leaning against a wall, eavesdropping on the shady conversation with a bit less nonchalance than the Kiffar and the Pantoran. "See her?" The latter gestured. Both of them made it a purpose to be inconspicuous, yet a moment of watching was unlikely to be spotted.

The majority of these patrons were too busy living in their own moment to notice who was looking at who. Yet Vayla could only wonder whether the Iktotchi was Force-sensitive or if the drink was merely a coincidence. The situation was already dangerous, but a bit of Force-listening from a distance was not likely enough energy to expose Jedi Shadows.

“Can we cut through the small talk straight to the chase?” The conversation had since shifted from the state of their establishment.
“As you say.” The Iktotchi raised his glass as if to celebrate. “To the future. Or am I premature?”

Vayla looked away, through the sea of bodies sitting or standing, many of them celebrating in their own way. They served as a screen and a distraction.
The Shadow noticed that the Zabrak woman’s drink was soon to be empty, her gaze so fixated on the Human and Iktotchi, as if she didn’t expect another party to be watching.

“That remains to be seen.” The Human hadn’t even touched his drink. “Do you have it?”
“I do indeed.” The Iktotchi sipped his whiskey as the Zabrak finished hers.

If he was truly a Sith he might have felt that spy’s eyes on him, and if he did, he didn’t show it. Then again, this scene would either lead to exposing the truth in this establishment or tailing them out of the exit, if not violence.
“All of it," the Iktotchi added.
All of it. All of what?

Lúa’Katal Vōd