Ask Nar Shaddaa A Chance Encounter

[Arla]

Per my new OP template, thread is death enabled​

Although Arla had largely tended to her own concerns recently, she still had responsibilities and expectations as the First Sister of Dathomir. Among those responsibilities was protecting the knowledge of her people. After the Empire had expelled the Sith, most of the Nightsisters had left either Empire or Sith, but among Arla's Coven that had been stationed on Felucia there had been several artifacts lost during the rather abrupt transition. The rumors said that they were now being sold on the black market. For the life of her, Arla didn't know how they had ended up here, but that wasn't really her question. Her goal was to get them back.

After having landed on Nar Shaddaa, her initial thought was how... just gross it was. The planet was without any natural life of its own, no fresh air (everything smelled like cigarras and urine), and a general desperation in the Force that clung to her as she walked.

She had had to leave behind her energy bow for this one and instead simply had her hunting knife tucked into her belt and the Shadow flowing all around her. Questioning people and being diplomatic were not her strong suits, but the fact was that her Mother had repeatedly pointed out that Arla needed to develop some diplomatic bones. Maybe this was an opportunity.

She'd heard that some merchant named "Dunmer" had the artifacts. Now she just needed to find him.

 

[Lanfear]

Lanfear had always liked Nar Shaddaa. Not only was the despair and debauchery that seemed to pervade the moon easy to stay inconspicuous in, its made its inhabitants exceedingly willing to turn on their own, for the right price. You could do almost anything you wanted to, get almost anything your heart desired, and nine times out of ten there would be no consequences. Maybe that was why the fools she was pursuing had opted to come here, hoping to earn a quick credit and vanish to some distant corner of the Galaxy to live out their fantasies of wealth and power. Unfortunately for them, their means of achieving that wealth did not sit well with her, and so she was here to deliver justice, and hopefully recover what they had stolen. Nine times out of ten they would have gotten away scot-free, this was that one time they didn't.

Dressed in the attire of a former commercial freight pilot, with documents to back up that claim, she moved through the streets of Nar Shaddaa with no obvious giveaways identifying her as a Sith. Her blades were left behind, a pair of kyuzo petars tucked away in her jacket, and a blaster visible on her hip the only weaponry she carried. This wasn't the first time she had operated without her blades, and she was quite comfortable without them. And as she reached her contact, a local who had the information on the seller, she used another weapon that she had at her disposal. She smiled at him. Warm, disarming, maybe even a little seductive, and entirely fake. The smile did more than any blade could ever have.

"Hello Linus, I didn't keep you waiting, did I?"

The man grinned as he shook his head, so smitten that he would have lied even if he had been waiting forever. "Punctual as ever Miss." That earned him another smile, and flustered, he dug his hands into a pocket an pulled out a datacard, holding it out for her. "Fella named Dunmer, over in the Corellian district."

The exchange of card for a credcoin was quick, and she gave Linus a pat on the cheek to seal the deal, vanishing into the crowd even as he was fumbling for words, slipping the datacard into her datapad to read the data, but not before something caught her eyes. A face she recognized. There were many Sith in the Order, or at least there had been. To know each one would be impossible, even for someone like her, whose job it was to know them. But this was no simple Sith, this was Arla, a Master, someone worth knowing. And as she put a name to the face, she put away the datapad, and changed directions, beginning to shadow her instead.

Whatever was she doing here?

 

[Arla]

Arla lacked the subtlety or manipulation of the other Sith who was here hunting the artifacts. Arla took what she wanted and left whatever in her wake that she felt was necessary.

Diplomatic. Bone. Arla, she reminded herself, her eyes rolling back in annoyance at herself, though outwardly her face otherwise didn't change. She moved smoothly through the crowd of people and past the sizzling of a restaurant before slipping down a side alley.

The alley was far more empty but still lined with doors leading into shops. The one she chose was none other than Dunmer's shop: Dun on Time Repairs. She paused to look up at that title and just really let it sink in before pressing into the building.

She was greeted immediately by a droid.

Hello and welcome to Dun on Time Repairs. What can I help you with? the droid said and Arla just looked so thrilled to be talking to the droid.

Is the manager in? she asked. I'd like to discuss some of his special supply, she said. She was glad that the droid didn't seem capable of recognizing Nightsister tattoos as it hadn't raised the alarm about her presence here. Or maybe it just didn't care? After all, who else was going to buy Nightsister artifacts? Actually, a lot of people most likely, but Nightsisters had to be likely to be among them.

 

[Lanfear]

Lanfear followed after Arla, and stopped when she noticed the shop she had vanished into. A quick glance at her datapad confirmed that this was indeed the same store she herself had been directed to. Her first thought was to assume that the Nightsister was somehow a part of the same ploy she was there to investigate. While not one to jump to conclusions, it was hard to ignore the pang of irritation that struck at that thought.

If Arla was indeed involved then that changed things, and she could not let the Nightsister get away with whatever she had planned for the artifacts. That would need a change of plans, which was irritating in and off itself, but there was also the matter of who Arla was. Lanfear knew her own strengths, and her weaknesses, and this was a fight she knew could not win. If it did come to that then there was a very real chance that she might not get out of this alive. She was willing to give her life for the Order, if that was what was needed of her, but she had hoped to see the Order rise once more before that day came.

But, there was not much point to thinking of eventualities without knowing for sure. She had to figure out what she was doing. So, letting out a sigh, she began moving towards the store, stepping in just as Arla was asking for the manager. Walking up to the counter, she stopped besides her, and as the droid was busy calling someone from a back office, she gave the woman a curious glance.

"Those are interesting tattoos," she said as she picked up a trinket from the counter to absentmindedly examine it, "not something you expect to see at a place like this." As the droid returned, she put the trinket back down. "Makes you wonder, what brings a Nightsister to Nar Shaddaa." She turned to give her a glance.

"Lady Arla."

 

[Arla]

Arla turned back to look at the woman who was making her way into the store after Arla. She looked like a smuggler or something of that sort, and Arla didn't pay her a great deal of mind until she leaned against the counter and mentioned Nightsisters. Her silvery eyes flicked back toward the other woman, curious that she had recognized the tattoos at all, but then came her name.

Chills ran down Arla's back and sides at the mention of her name. She couldn't imagine any reason that someone would be tracking her that was "good" and that meant things were about to devolve into a fight. Everything seemed to slow down for Arla as the Force began feeding her all the information that she required.

The droid was no longer paying attention to them and there was no one waiting outside the door. Just the woman and Arla. All these thoughts and sensations passed through her mind in the fraction of a second.

What do you want? she said, her eyebrows drawn down into a frown. Most people would have asked "who are you" but that answer was almost never relevant. What people wanted from you was far more important and far more telling.

@Wit