Public Twice as Bright, Half as Long

[Delsin Shaw]

Nar Shaddaa

The bars and venues of Nar Shaddaa were the perfect place to recklessly spend credits. Even more so, when it was at the benefit of others. Benefit being a very generous term of buying round after round, after round of drinks for everyone in the bar. Sitting at one of the booths, after having paid for various drinks over the past several hours now, a rough looking individual came over, and slid themselves into the seat across from me. Bright smile on my face before taking a deep swig of the Seikoshan Whiskey. My particular drink of choice. Just the right kind of burn while having a flavor that didn't taste like piss from a farm animal. A gentle raising of my glass to them while they sat forward.

"Ahhh, and what have you come here for my fine friend?"
"You spend credits too much."
"Something wrong with that?"
"Spending that much puts a target on your back."
"Oh I am aware."
"Then you won't mind if I-"

A sharp flash of movement. The drink still in my hand, and immobile, as my other hand had slammed down onto his. A dagger piercing through his hand and into the table. Pinning it there like parchment to a board. His yelp of pain as I slowly leaned forward. Whispering gently to him.

"I would think carefully of your next words. I am being generous to you and the other patrons."

A wide open set of eyes looked at me, my hand holding the dagger firmly into his hand. Blood slowly oozing from the top and bottom of his hand onto the booth table. My eyes looked to the blade then to his face again before gently tilting the grip. Letting the blade shift in the soft flesh of his hand between the bones.

"Alright!"

A quick pull of the weapon before sheathing it. A bright smile on my face once more as I spoke cleanly to them. Tossing over a credit chip that clinked onto the table and landed into his lap.

"Get bandaged up. Here, on me."

The man stood up and left me to my devices. A shake of my head at the absurdity of what happened before taking another sip from the glass. Once done, I let out an audible sigh of enjoyment.

 

[Braze]

​

〘BOUNTY: Delsin Shaw 〙



​

Braze stepped into the establishment, looking about with curiosity before his gaze settled on Delsin Shaw .

The little droid perched on his shoulder churred quietly near his ear, while the second droid tucked within his cloak kept scanning behind him as he made his way to the bar and took up a glass.

With that secured, Braze crossed to the booth where Delsin Shaw sat, flashing him a coy smile and a wink before downing the drink in one clean go. Then he turned the empty glass over and set it upside down on the table in front of the man.

"So… is it true you're wanted, or did you just make that up to feel popular?"

---

Bounty Hunter

Name: Braze
Affiliation: Independent
Bounties Claimed: [X]

#ID-45 • ACTIVE

-- This post is made in accordance with the Bounty Hunter's Code. The target's toggle was active at the time of posting. This post includes a valid license and links directly to the bounty as required by board rules. --​

 

[Delsin Shaw]

The room never really settles into anything permanent. It only pretends to.

Light shifts across glass. Credits change hands. Voices rise and fall in patterns that suggest importance to those producing them. I let all of it exist without interference. It costs nothing to observe and even less to ignore what does not require acknowledgment.
Someone approaches.

There is a pause in the air that other people might interpret as significance. I do not. Distance closes, not because it matters, but because it is physically permitted to. A question is spoken. Lightly, almost carelessly framed. Something about whether I am known, or whether the weight attached to me is self-assigned. It lands nowhere that requires response.

I continue what I was doing.

There is no shift in posture that would imply consideration. No pause that would suggest thought being redirected. The motion of my attention remains exactly where it was before the voice existed

The room does not change its rhythm for him, and neither do I.

He remains in the space where he decided to speak, as if proximity can create inclusion. It does not. Not in me. Not here. Not in anything I am currently tracking.

The rest of the room continues as though uninterrupted. That is the part most fail to recognize. It is not that I isolate him. It is that nothing around him is required to adjust for his presence. Everything continues at its natural pace, unbent.

Still nothing is granted in return.

Not acknowledgment. Not refusal. Not correction. Because all of those things would imply that something has been received. Instead, the space remains unchanged.

A child can throw words into a current and believe the water has heard them. The water does not hear. It passes through. It continues.

I finish what holds my attention. The details complete themselves. My focus releases from the table, from the exchange of value, from the surface-level mechanics of the room. My body shifts only when there is reason to move forward, not backward, not outward.

I stand.

The booth ceases to matter the moment I am no longer using it. The environment resumes its own relevance in my absence of engagement with it. I move through it the same way everything else moves through background noise.

And whatever remains behind me is not something I carried forward.

It was never carried at all.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Delsin Shaw ​

Braze watched him rise, pale lashes widening slightly as jade green gaze settled on the man, as if he were weighing the silence left behind. Then a devious little smirk began to curl in to place etching it's self across his soft visage.

The little droid on his shoulder gave a soft chirr, lenses adjusting as they followed Delsin's movement through the room. Braze did not hurry after him. He only lifted the upside-down glass between two fingers and set it upright again.

Braze flipped a small latch on his gauntlet and tapped a few buttons, confirming his target and relaying the information elsewhere. He would rather avoid violence, if possible, and preferred to take him in a less crowded place. His droids were already mapping exits, angles, weapons, and bystanders.

"Impressive," Braze said, as if marveling at how he had asked one question and Delsin had managed to monologue an entire refusal without saying a word. "Does the strong, silent type routine work on all the girls, or am I getting special treatment?"

The annoying pest that was Braze followed after him, drawing one hand up with overdramatic flair. He pressed the back of it to his forehead and released an equally theatrical sigh.

"Oh, Delsin~ You're so0o0o0o0o0 mysterious~" he crooned, playfully mocking the voice of some lady completely smitten by his antics.

The droid trilled again, supplying some more chirring beeps.

G.I.Z.M.O.
═ ✦ ═══ ✦ ═

"Bweep-bweep. Dee-deet-krrt… wooOOop. Bip-bip-bip. Chirr-vrrt… meep? Deet-deet-deet."

That sufficently interupted Braze's teasing. He sighed softly looking back at the fellow.
"Since you are committed to pretending this is not happening, and being no fun..." he said, "allow me to make it official."

One small motion of his gauntlet brought the bounty puck up in a pale wash of light.

"Delsin Shaw, you are the subject of an active bounty For the murder of a mighty wroshyr tree on Ruusan; I am declaring intent to pursue and bring you in under the listed terms."

The little droid on his shoulder gave a prim, self-important chirr. Braze smiled again.

"You may come quietly,"

 

[Braze]

Braze took out hand cuffs to put on Delsin Shaw .

 

[Delsin Shaw]

The announcement finally accomplished something the questions had failed to do.

As the bounty puck illuminated the space between us and Braze formally declared his intent, I found my stride slowing for the first time since leaving the table. It wasn't concern that caused it. It wasn't even surprise. Instead, it was the growing suspicion that I had somehow misunderstood the conversation despite being present for all of it. The possibility irritated me enough that I found myself replaying the last several minutes in my head while Nar Shaddaa continued carrying on around us. Music drifted from somewhere deeper in the establishment. Glasses clinked against tables. Patrons laughed, argued, and drank without the slightest awareness that a bounty hunter had just announced his intentions a few meters away.

Then the realization finally settled into place.

A tree.

Of all the possibilities I had considered when the young man first sat beside me, that particular outcome had never crossed my mind. The absurdity of it lingered for several seconds before a quiet laugh escaped me despite myself. It wasn't mocking. It wasn't cruel. It was the genuine reaction of someone confronted by a reality so unexpected that it briefly overwhelmed every other thought.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

For the first time since our conversation began, I gave Braze my complete and undivided attention. Not the casual observations I'd been making before. Not the detached curiosity that accompanied most interactions. Actual attention. The kind reserved for puzzles that refused to behave the way they were supposed to. My gaze moved from the bounty puck to the droid perched upon his shoulder and then back to the young man himself, examining him as though I expected some hidden punchline to suddenly reveal itself.

Nothing came.

He was serious.

That realization somehow made the situation even stranger.

Most hunters who pursued me concerned themselves with atrocities measured in bodies. They obsessed over massacres, political crimes, assassinations, wars, conspiracies, and every other grand evil the galaxy preferred to catalogue. They built narratives around monsters and convinced themselves that slaying one would somehow improve the world around them. It was predictable. Almost comforting in its consistency. Braze, however, had walked into a bar filled with criminals, sat down across from a man responsible for horrors he likely couldn't begin to quantify, and chosen to serve a bounty connected to a tree.

A mighty tree, admittedly.

But a tree nonetheless.

The longer I considered it, the less ridiculous it became and the more curious it grew. Most people focused upon scale. Braze seemed focused upon principle. Whether that principle stemmed from wisdom or naïveté remained an open question, but I found myself increasingly interested in discovering the answer.

My head tilted slightly as I continued studying him through the mask.

"You may be the strangest bounty hunter I've ever met."

The observation carried no mockery because none was intended. If anything, there was a faint note of sincerity beneath the words. Over the years I had encountered zealots, mercenaries, Jedi, Sith, soldiers, vigilantes, criminals, idealists, and fanatics of every imaginable variety. They all tended to follow familiar patterns. Braze did not. Every assumption I made about him seemed to collapse the moment I thought I understood what motivated him.

My gaze drifted briefly toward the little droid as it chirped from his shoulder before returning to its owner.

"And that is saying something."

For a moment I simply stood there, considering him. The confidence wasn't forced. The humor wasn't an act. Even the declaration itself lacked the hostility most bounty hunters wrapped around their work. He genuinely seemed to believe this was a conversation that could still end peacefully, which was perhaps the most fascinating detail of all. The galaxy had spent years teaching people to fear monsters. Braze, for reasons I couldn't yet determine, appeared determined to speak to one.

The thought lingered long enough for another quiet laugh to escape me.

"You know, if you'd led with the tree, you might have saved both of us a considerable amount of time."

My gaze dropped briefly toward the glowing bounty puck before returning to him. Behind the mask, I found myself wondering whether he understood how unusual he truly was. Most people entered a room already convinced they knew who I was. They saw a Sith. A monster. A threat. An enemy. Braze seemed more interested in figuring it out for himself, and that curiosity had earned far more of my respect than the bounty ever would.

Unfortunately for him, respect and compliance were not the same thing.

"I'm afraid I'm still not coming quietly."

The refusal came without malice. Without threat. Without even the implication of violence. It was delivered with the same conversational ease one might use when declining another drink. Yet as the words left my mouth, my attention never wavered from him. The bounty itself no longer interested me. The tree interested me slightly more. Braze, however, had become genuinely fascinating, and I suspected that whatever happened next would teach me far more about the man than the conversation we had just shared.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Delsin Shaw ​

"I suppose bounty hunting wouldn't be much of a job if everyone reasonably decided to cooperate…" Braze chirped simply.

Delsin's suspicions were right. It was about principle.

He was the acquisition, and Braze had taken the contract over him killing the big tree. Perhaps others would have thought it a negligible, almost laughable task; some small offense hardly worth the trouble of pursuit. But to Braze, it mattered. A life had been taken. Something ancient had been cut down, and the world had been left poorer for it.

So here he was, bright-eyed and slight as a blade of moonlight, treating the whole affair with the breezy politeness of someone discussing afternoon tea… while still very much intending to see the contract through. His jade green eyes began to tremor almost imperceptibly as they took in Delsin Shaw 's form studying his body line carefully.

"Your initial bounty of 75,000 was raised to 225,000…" Braze chirped. "That surpasses the 200,000-credit threshold, which places you beyond both Galactic and Regional brackets. Congratulations… you have reached the very bottom rung of the Most Wanted Range category."

His hand moved to a pretty little blue orb like gem at the clasp of his cloak as he adjusted it gently keeping his attention locked on Delsin for any sudden motions.

"We can do this here," Braze said, glancing briefly around the bar, "but I would prefer not to involve the furniture, the patrons, or whatever unfortunate person owns this establishment. So I am going to politely suggest we step outside."

The little droid on his shoulder gave a soft chirp, as if recording the offer for legal purposes.

At the same time, a few simple commands slipped through the droid's quiet relay. Outside the establishment, a team ( FFS - C.A.T.C.H. | FFS - B.L.A.S.T.A. | FFS - S.P.A.R.K.) of Braze's standby units stirred from their waiting positions and began following capture procedure. They moved hovering into vantage points near the exits connected to the building, careful not to block them outright… at least not yet.

"You may consider that my final courtesy before I begin active apprehension."

 

[Delsin Shaw]

The more Braze spoke, the more convinced I became that the bounty itself had ceased being the important part of the conversation. The credits didn't interest me, nor did the increase in value or the arbitrary distinction of having crossed some threshold that elevated me into a different category of criminal. Those things were little more than numbers assigned by people who preferred quantifying problems to understanding them. Somewhere in the galaxy, someone had decided my existence was worth a specific amount of money and then later decided it was worth more. The practice always struck me as oddly comforting to those involved, as though assigning a value to something somehow made it easier to comprehend.

Braze, however, wasn't truly speaking about numbers. The bounty might have been the reason he was here, but it clearly wasn't the reason he cared. That distinction became increasingly apparent the longer I listened. While the puck displayed figures and classifications, Braze kept returning to principles. Life. Responsibility. Consequence. The conversation had long since drifted away from credits and into something considerably more interesting.

As he continued speaking, my attention lingered on him rather than the bounty puck itself. The subtle tremor in his eyes wasn't fear, nor was it uncertainty. It was concentration. Beneath the easy smile and conversational tone was someone actively studying me, attempting to understand the person standing before him rather than the reputation attached to my name. The droid perched upon his shoulder chirped dutifully while its master discussed my arrest with the same casual politeness another man might use when discussing travel plans or the weather.

Then he gave me a choice. One to leave the bar, and handle this, "outside."

The revelation itself wasn't surprising. The moment Braze had identified himself as a bounty hunter, I had assumed that they would have gotten the drop on me. Instead of openly giving me a choice. Braze had done the opposite, openly revealing their intentions.

That detail mattered more than he likely realized.

My gaze drifted briefly toward the nearest exit as I considered the implications. When my attention returned to him, I found myself studying him with renewed curiosity.

"You know," I said slowly, amusement creeping into my voice despite myself, "most people begin with the massacres, the murders, the conspiracies, the planetary incidents, or whichever political disaster they've decided I was responsible for this week. Occasionally someone gets particularly creative and blames me for an entire war."

The absurdity of the situation settled over me as I considered it. Of all the accusations that could have brought a bounty hunter across the galaxy, of all the horrors my name had become associated with over the years, Braze had arrived because of a tree.

The observation lingered in my thoughts longer than it should have. At first it seemed ridiculous. Then it became fascinating, because he wasn't truly here for the tree. Not really.

He was here because something living had been destroyed and he had decided that fact mattered. Most people only seemed interested in tragedy once it reached a sufficient scale. They ignored individual losses until enough of them accumulated to become statistics. Braze appeared to operate according to a different philosophy entirely. Whether the loss involved one life or a thousand seemed largely irrelevant to him. What mattered was that the loss existed at all.

I wasn't entirely certain whether that made him wise or hopelessly idealistic. Perhaps both.

My gaze settled briefly on the blue gem clasping his cloak before returning to his eyes.

"And yet despite all of that, you've still offered me a choice."

The statement wasn't intended as a challenge. It was simply an observation. He could have attempted an ambush. He could have waited until I stepped outside before springing the trap. Instead, he had chosen transparency and extended a final courtesy to a man he believed deserved arrest. The galaxy rarely rewarded people for remaining principled, which made those who persisted all the more unusual.

For a moment I found myself wondering how long he had managed to hold onto that belief and whether the galaxy had tried to take it from him yet. A quiet laugh escaped me as the thought settled in. Not at him. At the situation. At the sheer absurdity of standing in a Nar Shaddaa cantina discussing morality with a bounty hunter carrying a contract over a tree while hidden droids prepared for a confrontation outside.

The laughter faded as I shook my head.

"I'm afraid the answer remains the same."

My gaze drifted once more toward the exits before settling back upon him.

"But I appreciate the offer."

The words carried more sincerity than I would normally allow myself, because despite everything, I did appreciate it. Braze had approached me with honesty, offered me a choice, and continued treating me like a person rather than a problem to be solved. That made him infinitely more interesting than the bounty itself, and I was beginning to suspect that fact would complicate matters.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Delsin Shaw

​

"Oh… I see." Braze let the words settle with a small, understanding nod. "Well… thank you for being reasonable about it. It is a job at the end of the day, right?"

His expression was mild and harmless as he offered one gloved hand, palm open in invitation as if offering a hand shake.

"I'm Braze, by the way. No hard feelings?"

 

[Delsin Shaw]

Braze's hand lingered between us, offered with the same casual sincerity that had defined the entire conversation. For a brief moment my eyes settled upon it, studying the gesture with the same quiet scrutiny I had given everything else about the young bounty hunter. There wasn't an obvious trap waiting to spring, no twitch of anticipation in his posture, no eagerness hidden beneath the friendly smile. Yet experience had long since taught me that intent and opportunity rarely arrived together. Sometimes the opportunity came first. Sometimes it only required another person to provide it.

I made no move to accept the offered hand.

The refusal wasn't meant as an insult. If anything, it was an acknowledgment of the situation we both found ourselves in. Braze had a job to do. I had no intention of making it easier for him, nor would I place either of us in the awkward position of wondering whether a simple handshake was anything more than a handshake. Respect did not require trust, and trust was a luxury neither of us could reasonably afford.

Instead, I inclined my head ever so slightly.

"Delsin Shaw."

It wasn't an introduction in the traditional sense. He already knew exactly who I was. The name wasn't offered to identify myself, but to return the courtesy he had extended. For all the titles, rumors, accusations, and stories that seemed to follow me across the galaxy, there was something strangely refreshing about answering with nothing more than the name itself.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"I suspect we're about to make each other's day considerably more difficult."

The words carried no malice, only quiet certainty. Somewhere beyond the walls, while patrons throughout the cantina continued blissfully unaware that the conversation had finally reached its inevitable conclusion. Braze had exhausted every reasonable courtesy he was willing to offer. I had exhausted every reasonable refusal I intended to give. There was nothing left between us now except the choices each of us had already made.

I took a slow step backward, not retreating but creating the space both of us knew would soon be necessary. My posture remained relaxed, my hands comfortably away from my weapons, yet every movement was deliberate as I subtly widened the distance between us. The room, the exits, the patrons lingering over half-finished drinks, even the furniture itself all drifted through my awareness as I quietly considered the battlefield around us. Braze had already expressed a desire to spare the establishment unnecessary damage, and despite the circumstances I found myself oddly inclined to grant him that much.

My eyes met his once more.

"Inside," I asked calmly, "or outside?"

The question wasn't rhetorical, nor was it another attempt to delay the inevitable. It was simply the final courtesy I intended to extend before the conversation ended and the hunt truly began.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Delsin Shaw

​

Braze let his offered hand hang there a moment longer as to not seem offended by the gesture. Then Braze's fingers curled back toward his palm and he lowered his hand.

"Well… no one can say I didn't try to be civil," he mused softly.

The little droid perched on his shoulder gave a prim little chirr, as if dutifully noting the refusal for some imaginary court record. Beneath Braze's cloak hood, the second droid answered with a lower string of muted beeps, its lens tucked in shadow.

Braze's jade-green gaze shifted briefly over the cantina.

"I would prefer we step outside…" Braze stated simply. "I don't think we should make our situation other people's problem, if we can help it."

He took a small step back, clearing the path rather than surrendering space, one gloved hand lowering near his side while the other offered a neat, almost courtly little gesture toward the door.

"After you, Mister Shaw." His smile returned, "And for what it's worth… I do appreciate the courtesy." G.I.Z.M.O. chirped again... Braze sighed faintly.

"No, Gidgit, that does not mean we are friends now."

Outside, the standby units held their positions near the exits without closing them outright, their lenses turned toward alleys, rooftops, and blind corners. Capture procedure remained active. Nonlethal measures remained preferred though they hovered silently up high and over head.

If Delsin Shaw was too careful to accept a hand, then direct contact had already been ruled out.... Braze could be patient.

 

[Delsin Shaw]

Braze's hand lingered between us for only a moment before he withdrew it without offense, accepting my refusal with the same effortless composure that had defined every part of our conversation. That alone continued to intrigue me. Most people interpreted caution as an insult, confidence as a challenge, or restraint as an invitation to prove themselves. Braze seemed to understand the distinction. He hadn't offered me his hand because he expected me to take it. He had offered it because, in his mind, it was the right thing to do. When I declined, he simply accepted the answer and moved on without allowing his pride to become involved. There was a quiet consistency to him that I found increasingly difficult to ignore.

As he suggested we continue our inevitable disagreement somewhere less populated, my attention drifted briefly around the cantina. The bartender had already resumed cleaning glasses, patrons had returned to conversations they had never intended to abandon, and somewhere in the corner another laugh erupted over a card game completely oblivious to the fact that a bounty hunter and his quarry had just finished negotiating the terms of their impending fight. Braze was right. None of them had chosen to be part of this, and there was little value in making them suffer for decisions that belonged solely to the two of us.

Without another word, I reached into my coat and produced a handful of credit chips, setting them neatly upon the counter as I passed. They were more than enough to cover the drinks I had purchased earlier, with enough remaining to compensate for any inconvenience our brief visit might have caused. I offered the bartender a small nod before continuing toward the exit, finding no particular need to explain myself. Some debts were easier settled before they were ever incurred.

The cool air outside greeted me as I stepped onto the duracrete walkway, the endless lights of Nar Shaddaa stretching into the darkness beyond like fractured constellations suspended between towering structures. I paused only long enough to unfasten the tailored dress coat resting over my shoulders. The fabric still carried the faint scent of expensive liquor and the city beyond, its pristine appearance entirely unsuited for what was likely to follow. Folding it once with practiced care, I laid it neatly across the broad stone windowsill beside the cantina entrance, smoothing one sleeve almost absentmindedly before letting my hand fall away. The gesture wasn't ceremonial, nor was it an attempt to dramatize the moment. It was simply practical. I intended to retrieve it later.

Turning back toward Braze, I regarded him for another quiet moment before slipping a slender credstick from an inner pocket of my vest and holding it loosely between my fingers.

"If you'd like,"

I said evenly, the faintest trace of amusement finding its way into my voice,

"I can simply pay the bounty to you."

The offer lingered between us just long enough to make it clear that I wasn't joking, though I suspected we both understood how the conversation would end. My hand lowered again before I continued, the corners of my mouth threatening a smile beneath the mask.

"You offered me every reasonable opportunity to avoid making this unnecessarily difficult. It seems discourteous not to extend the same courtesy in return."

My eyes settled comfortably on his, searching not for weakness but for understanding.

"I don't imagine credits are the reason you accepted the contract. If they were, we wouldn't still be standing here having this conversation."

The credstick disappeared back into my vest as naturally as it had appeared. There was no disappointment in the refusal I expected, only quiet acknowledgment. Braze had made it abundantly clear that principles carried more weight with him than profit ever would, and while I couldn't claim to understand that mindset entirely, I had come to respect it. The galaxy had an unfortunate habit of grinding convictions into something more convenient. The fact that Braze still possessed his made him considerably rarer than he likely realized.

A slow breath escaped me as I rolled one shoulder, allowing the last remnants of idle conversation to fall away. The relaxed posture remained, but beneath it every muscle settled into quiet readiness born of long habit rather than anticipation. There was no anger to be found in the moment, no resentment over the contract hanging between us, and certainly no desire to prove anything beyond what the fight itself would inevitably reveal. I had no intention of underestimating him, nor did I intend to rob him of the opportunity he had come here seeking.

"Shall we?"

I asked, inclining my head toward the open street beyond the cantina.

"I'd rather not keep you waiting any longer than your principles already have."

There was no mockery in the words. Only a quiet respect offered to an opponent who, against all probability, had managed to become far more interesting than the bounty he carried. The conversation had reached its natural conclusion, and whatever happened next would no longer be decided by philosophy, courtesy, or conversation, but by the choices each of us made once words ceased to be enough.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Delsin Shaw

​

Gear in use

Droids

• 
  
  

  Companions
  G.I.Z.M.O.	☑
  G.I.D.G.I.T.	☑

  
  

  Battle Droids
  FFS - B.L.A.S.T.A. FFS - MF-B FFS - MF-BO FFS - MF-F FFS - MF-FB​	☑ ×10
  FFS - C.A.T.C.H. FFS - BG-MkI FFS - CES-G FFS - GLMMkI Droid Singularity Projector​	☑ ×6
  FFS - S.P.A.R.K.	☑ ×6

  
  
  

Braze shook his head gently in reply to the offer of credits. He could certainly put the pretty penny Delsin was worth to work, spending it to help refugees, or the freed slaves he'd helped escape Dromund Kaas.

"No, sir… it's not the credits I'm after, as impressive as the number may be."

When Delsin stepped outside, the little silent floating droids did not unleash their full volley immediately. Perhaps surprisingly, they allowed him the dignity of setting his coat aside and taking a ready stance.

That, too, was part of the trap.

His mentors, Jasper Kai'el , Saram Kote , Cyran Vaas , and even Okuma Milogen , had taught him much about pursuing Force-sensitives. His own defeats at the hands of numerous underbelly types, such as Karkosuchus and Yuri Maji , had taught him valuable lessons in just exactly how to deal with powerful Force-users.

A Force-user did not need a door to escape. They only needed a moment: a blind angle, a breath of arrogance from the person trying to contain them, or someone foolish enough to underestimate their power and intelligence.

So Braze had accounted for the exits.

The B.L.A.S.T.A. units drifted high and wide, their small repulsorlift bodies settling above rooftops, alley mouths, ledges, and broken architectural cover. Their scattershot flechette launchers did not fire immediately, having instead, measured the air in silence, calculating firing angles and viable trajectories. Civilian heat signatures were marked to be avoided. Empty lanes were mapped. Every clean path away from the street became a corridor under watch.

The S.P.A.R.K. units held the middle range, small and silent, arranged to punish sudden movement with overlapping non-lethal stun bursts. They did not need to land a perfect shot. They only needed to make motion costly, to make every dodge, leap, feint, or sprint demand more attention than Delsin could safely spare.

The C.A.T.C.H. units waited lower and closer, angled toward the likely breaks in the perimeter. Their cortosis-weave stun nets remained primed, their grenade systems ready, their singularity projectors held in reserve for the instant Delsin tried to force open space where none had been offered.

Once Delsin had set his coat aside and taken a ready stance, Braze cocked his head slightly to one side, cueing the droids with the subtle motion.

The first volley did not aim to kill as simultaneously at Braze's subtle cue, the volley unfolded in immediately timed layers rather than one reckless burst: the B.L.A.S.T.A. units fired baseline micro-flechettes into the routes Delsin might use to escape, stitching rooftops, alley mouths, side lanes, and the open air above him with anti-lightsaber pressure meant to make sudden movement costly; the S.P.A.R.K. units released an overwhelming amount of overlapping non-lethal stun bursts toward his body line, some low to threaten his footwork, whilst others came higher to pressure his arms and torso; then the C.A.T.C.H. units fired two cortosis-weave stun nets from crossing angles, one aimed low to tangle his legs, the other cast higher to threaten his weapon arm and upper body, while the gas, grenades, and singularity projectors remained held in reserve for the moment he tried to break the cage.