The Iron Star - (Open)

[Long Gone]

The Iron Star, what a lovely place it was…

Of course, that thought was dripping with sarcasm as Aaralyn leaned back into the booth and propped her feet up onto the grimy table. How she ever managed to find her way into the slums of Vanjervalis was beyond her. It was supposed to be a simple job that somehow got complicated. Rescue a Rendili Stardrive Engineer who was being held ransom by some pirates – turns out that he was engineering the whole ordeal to get more money from Rendili. Aaralyn sighed softly as she watched him from a distance in the dark corner, occasionally shifting her violet gaze from patron to patron as they moved about. Her fingers delicately grasped the short glass within their confines as she lifted it up to her lips, the murky green liquid sloshing around within.

“Well, it could be worse. Boring like the days of old...” She muttered to herself as she took a sip of the bitter ale. The old days she referred to were the days of the Old Republic that she had studied and read about, the days she was told that the Jedi were evil – despite all they had done. Back then, she was a young girl who never really bought into the Imperial propaganda machine. It was most likely one of the reasons she got into so much trouble back on Corellia. She took another sip of the murky liquid, staring through the shimmering alcohol at the bottom of the faded glass as she finished off the drink. She slowly set it down as the memory of Marek Raten came to pass through her mind, and for the first time in a while, she thought back to times of simplicity.

Marek was quite the one to bicker about something. He would always get into it with someone, about something. It didn’t matter if it was about the drink of choice when they stopped off in between missions. One day, during his usual bickering with the locals on docking fees, Aaralyn stepped in and interjected and the exchange to this day was quite amusing…

17 Years After the Battle of Yavin.

“So, that’s how it’s going to be now…eh?” He had said in a thick accent, drawn from the far reaches of the Outer Rim. “Ya think cause you’re some Jedi that you can get your big girl panties on and fight with the boys, eh?”

Aaralyn remembered laughing, half expecting him to stop her right there in her tracks or even bait her further into the argument – but that wasn’t how it was going to be…not this time.

“Who ever said I wore panties? You manage to finally sneak a holocam into my quarters?” She fired back.

The look on the faces of the local docking station workers and Marek was worth its weight in credits, and the stunned silence was enough to give her the notion that she had won that round. Aaralyn merely winked and gave Marek a mock two finger salute before moving back towards the ship – There was work to be done.

Present Day.

Aaralyn crossed her legs at the ankles as she adjusted herself into a more comfortable position within the booth in the corner. By the looks of the employee from Rendili and how he was living it up with the ladies of the night.

This would get interesting.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Seedy bars, in seedy places, were the best locations one could find to glean information from the teeming masses of the poor and downtrodden. What was going on for them economically? Politically? The lady two seats over from him had gotten laid off a few weeks prior. She was out with friends to try and forget that misfortune. Another man was canoodling with all manner of nightwalkers.

Himself?

Well, he was here to be here. And there was no better cover than as a group of ill mannered mercenaries. Cobalt blue carapace armor shouldered aside the bars door as the noise of the bar was replaced by the noise of exceptionally loud off work mercenaries with the vocabulary to match. They had no emblem on their uniforms, no identifying marks other than the molded duraplast of their sky blue armor and the helmets dangling from their belts.

Full seal. High grade optics. Rebreathers. Very expensive.

Very professional.

"So I says to the guy..." One roars, drowned out for a moment by the protestations of his companions, "So. I. Says. To. The. GUY." He repeats more forcefully as the group made its way to the bar, "I says you can have my wife. She ain't walked straight since we got married." The man, short and stocky and well into his late thirties with close cropped black hair flecked with grey and a pair of forest green eyes, raised his hands as if to say 'I didn't want any of that.' "Forget, Jody, man." Another one says with a bark of laughter.

And then, picking up the rear was an unassuming man with a thick tangle of growth along his jawline and a mop of unkempt brown hair atop his head. Eyes as black as the night drifted over the crowd with practiced ease, his hand never far from the holster on his right hip, as if every person here was a potential ambusher. A faint grin split his features as his eyes settled directly onto [member="Aaralyn Rekali"].

He gave her a knowing wink, and then joined his friends at the bar.

 

[Valik]

Valik was in a bar all right, disguised in the Force and physically as usual, but spotted a familiar face. DIdn't I poison her? He thought to himself, and then decided it was probably time to leave. Getting the attention of the bartender he closed his tab, then gave the man a 100 credit . . . credit?

"I want you to give that woman([member="Aaralyn Rekali"]) over there a double shot of your finest lum. And tell her it came from that man." He said pointing to [member="Sarge Potteiger"]. "And don't tell him who paid for it if he asks. No one needs to know who the matchmaker is." He said, and the bartended smiled, nodded his head, and went to work. Valik then walked out.


Perhaps this 'meeting' would end better for her than their last one.

 

[Long Gone]

Her eyes shifted to [member="Sarge Potteiger"] and an audible groan escaped her lips as her legs swept off the table swiftly and suddenly. -What in the hell was he doing here?- She thought to herself as she adjusted herself in the booth to avoid gazing in his direction. It wasn't that she was not happy to see him, just in this locale and well this part of space - Ok, it wasn't far from Omega Protectorate space but still she didn't expect him to be here. They didn't share anything, just the last time they spoke, she made an ass out of herself and asked him a billion questions and was rather forceful about certain subjects.

She must have been high on spice or bitten by some space bug.

The overwhelming embarrassment she felt when it was all said and done ensured that she avoided [member="Sarge Potteiger"] for a good while. Her legs came back up and rested within the softer confines of the booth, well if one could consider them softer. The cushions had seen better days and probably had more drinks and bodily fluids spilt on them than the back of a fat man's speeder.

It didn't matter, anything at the moment was better than looking to the direction of someone she made a complete fool out of herself infront of.

"Hey, lady?" The bartender spoke up and set a glass down next to her with a double shot of something carmel color and god awful strong smelling. "That man over there..." He gestured towards [member="Sarge Potteiger"]. "Wanted you to have this." He said with a toothy grin before leaving her with the drink and making his way back to the bar. Aaralyn looked down at the drink quickly and then up to the back of Sarge. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she took the shot glass within two fingers and brought it up to her nose to take a deep inhale of the strong alcohol. Almost immediately they watered as the aroma hit her senses and she coughed out of reaction.

"What in all of creation is this...?" She said, looking down at the amber colored liquid.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

His broad shouldered form was leaning forward, arms extended out to either side of him beyond shoulder width while palms gripped the edge of the counter. Back flexing, he turned his head to give the woman a look from the corner of his eye, as if just knowing he was being looked at. That was something he was good at; being a hunter. And just like any good hunter, he knew when he was being watched.

It was a survival instinct, one that raised the hairs faintly on the back of his neck and set your teeth on edge. One that curled gloves fingers near the butt of an old, compact slugthrower pistol fit snugly into a thigh holster. It was the sort of instinct that caused him to give her a steel-sharp look as if to remind her that staring at him wasn't going to do her any good. It was almost comical, how he formed a bulwark in the middle of two masses of azure revelry.

The supposed mercenaries were formed in groups on either side of him, yelling, laughing and carrying on. A few fists were swung here and there in jest, and more than a few people gave them a bit of space in case a real fight broke out. Not that it would... hopefully.

A drink was set in front of him and he tipped it back with a hint of a grimace, and he gave a puzzled look at her cough. Finally, as if he couldn't help himself, he slowly made his way through the crowds and towards the hiding form of [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]. "You don't cough at it, you drink it." His coarse voice says as he lowers his armored self into the booth.

 

[Long Gone]

She rolled her eyes as he sat down, and as soon as he finished the sentence, her eyes narrowed into slits in his direction. She quickly brought the drink to her lips, holding it there for a brief moment as she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable punch in the gut. Quickly and abruptly she jerked her head back and downed the harsh liquid and flipped the shot glass, slamming it down on the table in between them. Her eyes squinted further and she bit down on her lip as the rush of alcohol impacted her system throughout. Not only did she shiver, but she coughed and made a light gagging noise as her left hand came up to rub her nose and mouth.

Whatever it was, it wasn't fine. It was painfully harsh and potent.

A few seconds of odd facial expressions and then she laughed softly at [member="Sarge Potteiger"]. "I'm sorry, but that could probably power my ship for a while..."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Eyes hardened by centuries of warfare gave her a slow once over. A face on the wrong side of thirty, but looking older, set itself like granite as she downed the drink with no small amount of courage. Her dainty reactions seemed to put a smile on his face, even as he leaned back in the booth and draped a large, corded arm over the back. His armor, even despite the din of the bar, made absolutely no noise.

Plates normally rubbed together. Pouches moved.

The man was silent. Dead silent.

"It probably could." He admits with a nod of his head, one hand coming to rest atop the table before curling into half a fist. The black cloth of his glove pulled tight across his knuckles, and as he shifted his head to look to the left and out of a window, she'd find herself staring at a pebbling of shrapnel scarring that pockmarked his right cheek. Inhaling slowly, he gives her a sideways look, head still turned towards the portal to the outside.

"Why are you here."

The question wasn't one. It was a statement.

She was a woman of class. Wealth. Prestige. Not dive bar material. He wanted answers.

He was going to get them.

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[Long Gone]

Aaralyn took an inhale as she continued her recovery from the feisty drink, shifting herself in her seat as she returned the gaze at the man across the circular table from her. "Last I checked, I was able to go where I wanted? Free galaxy and all that.." She said with a slight laugh and quickly fell silent as she noticed his expression. "Well, since you're being serious per the norm..." She shifted in her seat and gestured to a table where a man was excessively drunk and fondling various female beings. "A corrupt employee who cries wolf..." She said with a slight smirk on her face as the alcohol began hitting the various receptors within her brain. She turned back to face him, shrugging lightly. "I have already sent in the message to the local security forces and Rendili...kinda out of my hands at this point." Then it hit her - their previous meeting...

""Wait, wait..." She held a hand up and took a deep breath. "I don't know what I am doing, I made a complete fool of myself infront of you the last time we spoke..." She brought her other hand up and gestured.

"What are you doing here?!" She fired back.

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Serious is what I have left." He mutters, tapping a fist on the dingy, pitted table. A table after his own heart, he mused with an unamused grin. It was functional, and it did its job. But it had seen far and away better days. This was what he was reduced to. Comparing himself to a dive bar table. That sobered him up right quick. His knuckled rapped on the table a bit as he thought.

"So you're just waiting for them to swoop in and... take him away, yeah?" He asks, blinking at her. Lips, barely visible through his beard, set themselves in a line before the pink nub of his tongue came out to wet them as his attention turned towards her target.

This time, when he rapped his knuckles on the tabletop his men turned and began the process of incapacitating the man to make it easier to drag him from the bar. "I don't think our last conversation has any bearing on you being here, right now." He remarks. Loud protestations were cut off by a very tactfully applied piece of grey tape over the mouth of a now ornery man. His... 'friends' seemed to take offense too.

Not that it stopped the gang of heavily armored men.

"Could be worse, I guess." He adds, eyes lingering on the shameful scene before him, even if his words referred to their last meeting.

 

[Long Gone]

"Why does my presence here truly concern you?" She said quietly as she looked over to the bartender and made a gesture.

As he approached with a murky glass filled with green liquid, she watched the scene unfold briefly and quickly became disinterested in the theatrics and dramatics as the Twi'lek females began yelling about not being paid and even became belligerent with bottles of ale and other alcoholic beverages.

Indeed, there was more to her being in a slum.

It wasn't wide-spread news or knowledge and she highly doubt that [member="Sarge Potteiger"] gave a damn about it anyways. She offered him a sarcastic smile and blinked a few times as she slowly rose from the table. "You'll have to excuse me, but I need some fresh air." She brought the glass to her lips as she took a gulp of the liquid and quickly slid out of the booth and somehow managed to avoid an incoming bottle of Corellian Whisky.

It was a shame too, damned thing was full...

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Because it's not where you belong." He says, as if that were the only logical explanation for anything. A Sith had once told him he had a deeply annoying and almost infuriating habit of picking up on things that weren't being said and picking at them until they were pulled to the surface. He'd found that to be true, especially when it came to judging character. His gut had never steered him wrong with a persons character, and the degree to which he trusted it was almost disturbing.

It also had a nasty habit of cropping up as firm statements of fact that people didn't want to hear.

Like where he thought they belonged. Right or wrong.

He was, as he'd always been told... an ass. "Good idea." He mutters, ducking the bottle and sliding out of the way of some very angry alien women. Also something he'd gotten used to, just not in bars. Stepping out into night, helmet snug where it dangled from his belt, he cast his eyes around the dark cityscape to try and find a trace of [member="Aaralyn Rekali"].

She was hiding something. He could smell it. Secrets were his life, and much like a moth to the flame, he couldn't help but be drawn to them.

 

[Long Gone]

The sound of the night cityscape comforted her for some reason as she walked calm down the dimly lit streets. Her lightsabers tapped her hips softly as she moved, while the third lightsaber that her father had left her tapped her tailbone softly. She brought her gloved hand up with the drink glass in hand as she downed the remaining green liquid with a refreshing "Ah" behind it. She brought the glass up to her eye level and examined the remaining droplets within, frowning softly.

"Ah, my tab..." She growled softly and turned back and began heading back in the direction of the Iron Star, fortunately she hadn't made it far down the street - unfortunately there was a heavily armored [member="Sarge Potteiger"] blocking her path.

"I'd like to get some more drink if you don't mind and continue on my fresh air journey..." She motioned to Sarge's frame.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

A large forearm gripped tight in the embrace of azure duraplast rose, black gloved fingers splaying to arrest her progress. Looking down at her, his other hand reached up to brush unconsciously at the lightsaber burn that scarred his throat, as if an old pain were acting up beneath the mangled flesh. "Bar's closed." He says, and judging by the yelling and fighting going on inside...

Well, he wasn't too far off.

"I would suggest, Miss [member="Aaralyn Rekali"], that you take your journeys elsewhere."

 

[Long Gone]

"Such a karking nerf-herder...." She muttered and turned around, and gently tossed the glass behind her in the direction of [member="Sarge Potteiger"].

She brought both hands up to grasp her biceps tightly as she walked down the dimly lit streets once more. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she shivered, a gentle breeze passing over her form and cascading her chestnut brown hair in different directions. Damned if that alcohol wasn't taking it's physical and mental effects on her body, but not to the extent that it would a normal being.

Who the hell did [member="Sarge Potteiger"] think he was?

"The Galaxy police?!" She thought to herself as she looked up from the duracrete with a determined gaze. "I'll just go find another Cantina..." She muttered.

 

[Long Gone]

Yes, she could be a bit of a queen.

Yes, she could act a bit childish and immature at times.

One could say that she had excuses and specific reasons as to why this was so, honestly she was never able to figure out why. Maybe it was the parental conflict. The simple fact that her mother died young and her father disappeared when she was young leaving her with grandparents who were not equipped for the job. Perhaps, in alot of ways - Aaralyn just hadn't grown up the way she should have.

She felt frustrated at the fact that Ember left again, but what could she do? Nothing. Even now, that she looked back at the day she took the role of the Sword of the Jedi - was she truly ready? No. Was she now? That remained to be seen. What did it mean to be the Sword? She didn't have the answer.

Maybe it wasn't about the title itself or the responsibilities behind it, but living up to being a Jedi at the highest level.

She leaned down and pressed her elbows against her knees in thought, trying her best to curl up tight on the bench without taking her feet off the ground. It was a position of thought for her, that type of fetal position of frustration and confusion. It didn't matter how powerful a Jedi one was, or how wise - They were all mortal.

 

[Jade Ren]

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

The great thing about being who he was, was that Michael went where he pleased. What sucked about being him, was that he knew not who he was, and to whom he came from. As he walked around the place with his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes studied the world around him.
It seemed in the distance, a woman was having a hard time with bars. He chuckled to himself, and made his way to her location. His black boots clicked with each step, and his eyes never moved off her.

It was only then when he was about ten feet away from her, he spoke. His voice was sweet, and slippery. "You know...had I been you....I would have saduced that man." He lips formed a smirk

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

That wasn't the first glass to ever be thrown at Sarge, but he was fairly certain it was the smallest. Still, as he ducked the glass, he found the cityscape melting away to become the lavishly upholstered interior of Varykino. The sound of glass shattering brought him around, and he found himself staring at a lamp as it crumpled to the floor and scattered across the carpeting. A frown creased his lips, head turning around sharply.

Where he'd expected to find her... he instead found a very confused looking drunk. "Don't give me that look." He snaps at the man, snarling faintly as he barges past him to carry on the search for [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]. It wasn't exactly going to be difficult for him; he'd made a living hunting down those who didn't want to be found. But easy and not time consuming weren't always synonymous.

People were constantly in flux, never in one location for very long.

Lucky for him, she made it easy by parking herself on a bench some ways away.

In the manner of a man used to stalking others, he found a place out of sight enough to not be noticed and got himself comfortable. Specifically, in this case, it was the mouth of an alley where he could prop a shoulder against the wall. From here, he watched the woman and the man attempting to brighten her mood. He'd see how it went.

 

[Long Gone]

A voice caught her attention as she glanced up from her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Seduced him? Why would I do that?" She said softly but loud enough for him to hear her. She could sense something amiss but then again, this was a shady part of town and she was partially inebriated. She brought her knees to her chest and kept her eyes locked on the man whom was a few meters away from her. [member="Michael Zambrano "]appeared to be well-groomed and covered in tattoos from his wrists to his upper arms...

Interesting character indeed.

 

[Jade Ren]

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

Michael would chuckle, and look around. Removing his hands from his pockets, and raise them up, as if ready for a hug. "Because you're a grown woman, and shouldnt be told when you've had enough." His smirk bared some very white teeth. He walked over to the other side of her planting himself beside her. He wasnt right on her, there was space between the two. "In fact, no one should be telling you what to do." He pointed his index finger at the man who had made her leave. "Not him, not me, no one but yourself." He laid his hand down.
"But hell, lets ditch this place, and allow me to buy you a drink." He winked at the man mockingly, and made a gun, and flicked it up as if discharging it. "Oh, and I'm looking for a one night stand here, just someone to share a night of fun. Whatcha say?"

 

[Long Gone]

Aaralyn let go over her knees, allowing her boots to fully touch the ground. Her violet gaze shifted to [member="Sarge Potteiger"] for a moment and then back to [member="Michael"] Zambrano. "I understand I'm a grown woman, but his interests have always been..." She paused for a moment. "For the best..." She said as she bit her lip softly and nodded before looking down to the ground. "However..." She laughed softly and slowly stood up and gestured towards [member="Michael"] Zambrano.

"With all due respect, I'm not that kind of girl and I think it's time I called it a night?" She offered him a smile, her hand raised up and pulled out a credit chit from her pouch as she set it down on the bench next to him. "For that drink..." She said lingering for a brief moment before turning away from him. "And your fun night with some concubine." She yelled out behind her as she began walking down the streets away from the bench and as she did, she would turn and give him a wink. "Just in case you didn't know, that means a hooker."