A Clandestine Vision

[Ari Pinkerton]

Correlia
Downpour District
Pinkerton Residence​

Labors of late night outreach had proved fruitful, numerous participants contacted her back, though only a few caught her interest. Unfortunately only so much could be gathered of their usefulness from Holonet communications. As she pried into many of them she found that several just wanted the money and held little skill in what she required, others simply wanted too large an amount for what simply wasn't a complex matter. Irregardless, now she had a list of those willing to assist on compromised terms, her faith in their skill assured to a reasonable portion. She hoped that the first of her list would prove to be enough, after all she disliked the waiting of sending one person out to send a message requesting the next come by at their earliest convenience. Such affairs proved tedious and left her with doubts of her own creations, a painful reminder of how she failed at her work far more often than she succeeded, reminded of her failed endeavors by the chassis and experiments forgotten on her various tables, diagrams stored and ignored since their abandonment.

The dream lingered in her mind well, as it did with every dream, but this one was different. The clarity persisted weeks after its appearance, every detail as clear as it was that night. Typically things faded, first the small things, then everything else, she had a habit of writing down every vision such as this that she experienced, but rarely did she hold such expert recollection. It began as the nightmare, a chase by the masked man wielding the dreadful saber. It shone with a purple glint, the painful hum accompanying the glow that reflected against the metals of his armor, the only illumination in the dark tunnels as he carried himself after her. She collapsed as she sprang forth from the sewer system into the dark mud brought out from the torrential rain. The glow was gone, but as she turned back to the tunnel to see her pursuer, he stood there, blade raised, as lightning struck the saber-turned-metal. All else faded except the blade, and it deconstructed before her eyes. A vibro-sword, segmented and shorter than its kin, yet it collapsed into its thick hilt much like the saber that lit the room moments prior. A weapon, one of the most delicate designs she had seen.

Her residence was her place of work, metal doors with keypads split the building from workshop to abode, but oftentimes the two shared the same purpose. Models and diagrams finding their way into her bedroom and on more than a few occasions she found herself waking up in her workshop chair, face planted against the wooden table. Coming in from the front door was a camera on a metallic arm, which silently followed whoever stepped inside, a constant red light emanating from the smaller lens of the device. She waited inside, knowing that her newfound companion was scheduled to show up shortly, for the moment however, she decided to continue adjustments on the experimental model. Numerous diagrams layered the wall, and the current model sat in front of her as she tightened the grip on the handle. It was busywork that held little meaning, but she found it was best to make sure the weapon was ready for her newfound assistant.

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

Pazaak was often a game you lost more than you gained, but for once in his short career of gambling the game paid off. He had been dealing with a rather drunk Corellian trader when the two played a hand of the risky card game. The result had been a few credits in the Correlian's pocket and a rather lengthy discussion on an up and coming inventor from the man's home world; Duncan's own home world. The information was enough for him to reach out under the guise of a crime syndicate representative, a young fighter that had the cartel funds to plausibly get her product and her career off the ground. As Duncan approached the building he began to feel a sense of regret in his ruse to the woman, but perhaps they could work something out to better them both.

He tugged on the heavy cloak that was draped over armor to cover up some of the otherwise aggressive appearance. He was fitted in clothes that were a little too small for his height and framework, but fit the bill of 'scum of the universe.' The young man huffed in a deep breath and kept assurance to keep his Force Signature as repressed as he was able before walking up to the doorway which hissed open at his approach. It was the next room he found himself staring into longer than he had intended. His right foot took the first step and more of the entrance came into view. His eyes first took in the camera that was no doubt watching him as it followed each slow step. Raising his hands slowly to the camera he rotated them front to back to show he wasn't holding anything.

"Ari..?"

Duncan's voice was deep despite his youth, but his 'clean' face showed he wasn't near his maturity yet. He looked around to see if he could spot the woman, only having heard her voice through comlink. It was then he paused to think about the name he had given her; it slipped his mind for too long and it was then he was glad he wasn't in the process of introducing himself. He was sure he no doubt looked a fool, he certainly felt that way.

"..it's Torin Boto. For the...."

He allowed the word to drag out as he thought of what to say. He didn't want to outright say what he was there for in case she was seeking discretion.

"unique device."

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

The camera studied him briefly, its lenses adjusting as they seemed to focus on his face, the red dot in the smaller lense seeming to not waiver. ”Call me Pinkerton, if you would kindly.” The voice emanated from some speaker installed near the camera, a slight mechanical buzz to it. ”Regardless of formalities it’s a pleasure to meet you mister Boto. Please come inside, I’ll be waiting in the lobby.” The next door unlocked without much further grace, sliding open to allow him into the next room, a quite open and adorned room, an open lobby that seemed free of clutter, but still quite full. Models of armor, cybernetics, statues, and other designs were held on stands in some form of archaic fashion, further accented by the numerous portraits and landscapes of paintings that adorned the wall, complete with a self portrait of Pinkerton herself that hung upon the far wall, staring blindly forward from a backdrop of mixed colors. Pinkerton sat behind a desk, a small office space cut out from what might have been a seperate room underneath the painting.

Brown eyes stared out at him, matured and restrained. Her overall appearance very much matched her voice, outwardly very proper and holding the sturdy and trained voice to match. Her arm hidden behind the desk as she lowered the tools she was using, she moved to a stand, picking up the weapon in question. ”I’m glad to see that you’ve arrived, and I would like to apologize for the odd amount of discretion I’ve asked of you. I simply fear that some of the more profited competitors I have may have the materials to coin my own devices before I can.”

As she left the small work area, approaching him to meet him halfway in the lobby, she motioned him closer with her singular hand, the lack of her right arm quite clear and noticeable, accented by how her pale sleeve was pinned and wrapped to the stump with some form of leather bind, which seemed to give it some better appearance than that of tying the sleeve into a knot. Holding the weapon in hand, she made a point to keep the business end of the collapsed hilt facing away from Duncan. ”Before we continue of course, do you have any questions before we begin? Perhaps I could fetch you some tea and we could discuss any concerns you have.”

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

Duncan did his best to smile back up at the camera to the best of his ability. It was while smiling that he remembered he had to put on a show. He was afterall not the Jedi Knight Duncan Kincaid, but Torin Boto. He nodded to himself in reminder, but kept the welcoming smile despite the nervous thought.

"Pinkerton it is!"

Upon her welcoming he heard the locks begin disengaging and the door opened how he expected a low income outer rim bank keep its vault. There was no doubt it would take some work getting into, but it was nothing more than a blast door with weak points. It was what was inside that again caught him by surprise, only this time he was impressed. The Knight's eyes took in the oversized photo and he stood in place taking it in. She was quite beautiful he thought, having a calmness about her in the photo that seemed impossible to capture twice. However the woman's brown eyes looked as if they could pierce the very blast door he walked through seconds before. It was staring at the portrait that brought the young man back to his thoughts of regret. Her voice breaking the long silence brought him back to reality.

"A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I assure you, your discretion was welcomed given the situation."

His eyes looked at the device before he realized her limb was missing. Duncan had seen wounds like this many of time thanks to the Jedi Order; it was almost more rare to not see a cybernetic limb due to the nature of the game they played. Raising a brow at the woman he wondered just how she lost her arm, perhaps a failed invention was where his mind first went. Opening his palm to await the weapon he'd hold it in his right hand and for the first time truly stare into the inventors brown eyes as she spoke. His rich blue eyes stared back with a warmth that was quite inexplicable.

"-what is your intentions with this? My employer feels there are few skilled in such a weapon to utilize it in mass quantity.."

He leaned in closer, this is where he was truly curious.

"Would it hold up to a lightsaber?"

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

Her hand exchanged the weapon to the outstretched hand of Duncan, her own fingers covering the button that deployed the blade to prevent him from accidentally deploying it prematurely. The device, though though simply feeling like a hilt, weighed a bit more than it appeared to be, though of course it weighed less than that of a Vibro-Sword. Her own eyes studied his as they exchanged the weapon, her own carrying an odd weight with her gaze. Piercing, reflective, and tired. There was some odd form of fatigue carried in her eyes that didn't quite match the signs of physical fatigue or natural cases, it was more akin to the Jedi who had expended their will with the force in great deal, leaving them drained and empty of energy. Yet, despite the odd weight, there seemed to be no strong connection to the force, or at least any that manifested in a notable way.

"My intention? I'd assume it quite simple. I'm unsure of your knowledge of the Jedi but you've heard of their weapons of course. Blades of pure energy that hide within their hilts, almost hidden entirely upon their person. So much into so little- Consider it inspiration. Other than that, I assure you that a hilt that fits within your jacket holds much more yield than the long, cumbersome nature of the traditional Vibro-Sword, even if some length had to be sacrificed." Her voice carried each word with some authoritative weight, a proper tone and dialect that suggested some wealthy or traditional upbringing, though both were likely given her decor. "As for those able to use it I feel that your employer needs to look to the fields of conflict. Even with blaster technology soldiers and mercenaries pull swords upon close quarter. I'd assure you that anyone who can wield a Vibro-Sword can wield this device."

Her eyebrows perked as he asked that final question, the prospect of a lightsaber seeming to intrigue her. "The blade and outer hilt is made from Cortosis, a strong source of it I might add, as I was very peculiar about its composition. While unfortunately I haven't held the pleasure of meeting someone to test it, I've done my research on the blades that have combated the energy blades and pulled away no less scarred than any other conflict, and the material in this device is certainly enough to match the strength of such weapons. I'd even go as far to say that they'd hold pressure against the plasma blades just as well as another lightsaber would." She smirked after her almost winding explanation. "Though I'd imagine you have more problems than just which blade you use if you intend to fight someone who wields a lightsaber."

Moving onward she took a step back as she motioned toward the weapon. "Keep a firm grip on the hilt when you push the extender, the blade has a small kick to it and I'd hate to run into embarrassment so early on." Humor certainly kept about the woman, even with her tone and appearance. The blade itself held fair weight when extended, and the tug of the blade extending was hardly bothersome in the slightest. "If you would, give it a few swings, feel its weight."

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

Duncan smiled at her explanation of intent. It wasn't that she was telling him that caused him to smile, but how she dodged the question so easily never truly answering it. He knew the purpose of the weapon, to be a discreet and easily accessible blade. It was why she was making it aside from it being a neat idea. It was then the thought entered his mind that perhaps she did not understand the question to its full intent. Scoffing up the idea of that he noted that she dodged the question and let her continue with her salesmanship.

"Cortosis.. there's a rare mineral to find."

Duncan had read the archives on the unique material. It was often spoken of hand-in-hand with vibroweapons, but he wondered just how much this weapon utilized. The tinkerer in him wanted to take it apart, but even he knew that he'd likely not be able to get it back together. Holding the hilt out in front of himself he activated the extender and the weapon gave a jerk in his hand.

Click

The blade swished outward stopping just shy of where he would have truly liked it to have been. However, for what it was he found himself again impressed. He held the weapon in one hand and gave it a slow spin acting as if he had little experience in the weapon, but enough to know how its held. His actions slowly sped up until his act began to disappear some, his skill in the weapon coming to the surface despite his attempts to cover it. He gave it a final spin and hit the extender, the blade slipping back to where it began and he found himself smiling at the device.

"A little heavy.. but it is manageable. Does it differ any from a stun pike?"

His thoughts went to the polearm that acted much the same. It instead using electrical energy to do the slicing. He recalled a Jedi Master once slicing a statue clean in two with the device. He found himself twirling the hilt in his hand as he awaited an answer. The blade would be nice as a discreet tool, but there were other things out there that may already do the job he thought.

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

"Cortosis may be a rare mineral but when it comes to weapons such as this I could hardly call myself a woman of the craft if I skimped out simply because of the price." She commented in response, sharp eyes watching his movements as he spun and tested the blade. Her eyes watched his body posture, how he handled the blade and how his grip shifted depending on what he did with the blade. She kept herself quiet, but by the way she slowly walked around him at a distance, eyes glued to the weapon and the arm holding it, it was clear how seriously she took the test, even if it was simple for him. There was a look on her face, almost cloudy, but her eyes showed a great deal of concentration, as if she was feeding every second of what she saw into the thought process of how to improve it, or something equally ingrained in her head.

"A stun pike is similar, but I'd consider it closer to a vibro-blade, even though they both utilize the same technology. Of course it's not just Cortosis that makes the blade strong. The metal in the pommel is the power source, it helps eject and collapse the blade, as well as gives it the method of vibration. It was perhaps the most difficult aspect of designing the weapon. The blade may be able to cut on its own, but it is reliant on the power source to give it the vibrations necessary to be the lethal and dangerous weapon it needs to be." She paused, as if reflecting on it. "I've worked with vibro-weapons before, and I've always had a decent understanding of them. But having to figure out how to fold the technically proved a greater challenge than I anticipated."

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

He smiled at her comment. It was bold, yet he knew it was an honest statement by how easily it rolled off her tongue. His Force sense even told him of her honesty. Everything was matching up so far to the woman he spoke to through Holovid. Still holding the weapon within his right hand he tossed it over to his left and began to do slow cuts through the air much like he had with his right. He listened to her speak as the weapon cut the air in an unfamiliar silence compared to the hum of his lightsaber.

"Let me ask you then, who or what is it you wish to work for?"

He again smiled at the woman truly wondering if she was simply inventing to invent or if she had a master-plan laid out. She appeared to have some amount of skill looking around the room; but, it was the young Jedi Knight that saw perhaps something greater in her, if she only knew what to put it in.

"I'm curious if you see yourself working for someone, or something, instead of your own plans or ideas. If you were given a job could you do it?" He paused for only a second to let the words settle within the room. "Would your moral compass get in the way?"

His face was blank now, not holding that friendly smile and his eyes seemed much colder. Torin Boto was no where to be found and she was looking into the eyes of a Jedi, of Duncan Kincaid whether or not she realized it. The blade cutting the air had stopped, it again down at his side, but still engaged. He was still trying to figure out just who Pinkerton was.

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

His stern face was met with what could amount to a brick wall. Her face had gone still, and as Duncan slowed the blade to a stop, her brown eyes met his, the only weak portion of her gaze being the dark circles that rested beneath her eyes. She inhaled slowly, letting the questions hang in the air with a thick tint to them. The questions had not offended her, and even his senses could tell that. Instead what was inside of her hardened, slips of visions and nightmares almost tangible to his senses. There was more to this woman that just an intellect and a hand for invention, there was something subconscious that had so deeply rooted itself into her that it had formed the woman around itself. It wasn't quite a sensitivity to a force, but the similarity was there.

"Work for?" The way she phrased it sounded as if the very idea was preposterous to her, head tilted slightly as she said the words. "I'd hardly phrase such a situation such as that with such little specification. I work for myself, I create because it is my drive, and I paint because it is my spirit. The fact that both acts come about in profit is not simple coincidence but they are hardly my goal." Her eyes narrowed as his questions continued. "Such pointed questions." She spoke in a somewhat quieter tone. Silence reigned once more before she continued, clearing her throat with a single swallow.

"You know as well as I do that I cannot answer such questions with the ease you seek. I am by far no ethical puritan but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who would label me as some malevolent charlatan." With an inhale her response came to its apex, a question pointed right back. "-And my response would most certainly depend upon who was asking."

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

He was beginning to catch himself going down a path that Torin Boto wouldn't have taken. He had to remember just who he was and what he was doing here. Allowing that very thought to linger for a long moment in his mind he slowly took in a much longer than usual breath. It was obvious this woman did have a set of morals even if she wouldn't so blatantly state it. He knew he wouldn't if the question was directed at himself.

"In a transaction that could involve a loss of life pointed questions I believe are necessary. I mean no insult by them."

He reassured his statement with a sincere, but almost sinister smile. In truth Duncan had no idea where his acting skills had come from, but he could enjoy such facades assuming the risk didn't outweigh the reward. He again had to push the thought away as he needed to stay focused. This was harder than he thought. At the boldness of her own question he turned sharply and the blade he held would do just the same. Its tip, her weapon, would stop shy of Pinkerton's neck and would hold in place.

"Why, I am asking, Pinkerton."

That sinister smile showed itself once again, only this time a warmth was also cast from it.

"Could you make... develop something similar to this?"

He flicked the activator and the blade disappeared before he flipped it into the air for her to catch. His mind, his sense, was outstretched and if by chance the woman didn't have the dexterity to catch her tool, Duncan Kincaid would be forced to reveal himself.

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

His equally vague response set her off, her own temper flaring, the hotness of anger rising in her face, especially as he dared point her own design at her with the implied threat of malice. There was no fear, and she did not move away, she simply inhaled her tone leveling flat before she spoke once more. "You're not a bright one, are you? You come into my abode, on camera, and might I add you're still on camera, and then you have the gall to point my own design at me as if you have any real power over the situation. A weapon doesn't make you special, any idiot with a gun or a sword can take a life." Her words range with a hardened belief, a set of values the woman clearly had that were beginning to shine.

His words seem to hit her very softly, doing little to change her still face until he flipped the blade. One would expect her to attempt to catch it or at least do [i[something,[/i] yet the weapon dropped beside her without so much an effort from Pinkerton. If it did hit the ground it would simply make a notable, echoing thunk, not extending nor breaking, simply enduring the unfair treatment. "A falling knife has no handle, Mister Boto, even one with a hidden edge." She made no attempt to pick it up, simply glaring at him with piercing, quite suddenly judgmental eyes. There was a glint of distrust, a pure and simple dislike.

"You are in my house and as such you will abide by my rules. Perhaps I forgot to inform you, and perhaps this makes it my fault that this unfortunate event has occurred. If you wish to make a deal it will be by my terms, and my terms are simple. You tell me what you want, and then I supply it. I despise vague questions of morals and pointed directionless inquiries, they tell one nothing. If you want to commission my craft then you will tell me so. This is a weapon, and it will end lives, both those who deserve it and those who don't." Pinkerton was clearly a hard woman, one with odd convictions and an odd pressure she placed upon people she wished it upon. She had said a lot, and there was a lot she wasn't saying. One thing was true though, he was on camera. He had, after all, quite literally waved to one upon entry. If 'Torin Boto' had attacked, he would be at a serious disadvantage, regardless of whether or not Pinkerton was dead. At best he'd make it off planet, at worst his face would be plastered on bounty boards around the star system within the week.

Pinkerton was not someone who won fights with a sword or a blaster.

Because she didn't need to.

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

The air had grown still with a tension that had been fully supplied by Duncan it had seemed. His Force Sense was in a state of chaos at the mixture of emotions that Pinkerton was letting off, along with his own nerves. It was her comments that put his own emotions into a boil and whether or not he knew it; that was showing. His gaze flicked to the camera and that smile he had shown turned cold; colder than she could begin to believe possible. It was perhaps his greatest ally.. or his greatest enemy; the hormones of a teenager.

"Sometimes a blade needs no edge to be deadly, Pinkerton."

His voice had changed drastically since that initial wave to the camera. His emotions, this situation, it was all getting the best of him; he was losing, but he'd never admit it. It was her continued threat that pushed him over the edge, that tension which filled the room at last breaking in a way that was sure to surprised the inventor as it was a shock to even Duncan. That cold gaze the Jedi was giving Pinkerton changed the very air around them and goosebumps would run up both their spines at the sudden temperature change.

The blade he had tossed never clicked against the ground, it instead floated a few inches above the floor, slowly turning as the Force manipulated gravity from taking hold on it. The weight of the tension that filled the room instead gripped at Ari Pinkerton's throat; and Duncan didn't even know it. His contained anger and that cold stare merely looked into the woman's clever eyes before flicking back to the camera which twisted in place before breaking.

"Perhaps now you know what you're dealing with."

Duncan could feel sweat beading on his forehead and it was in that moment he realized what exactly he was doing, what the Force was doing and he made himself let go. The collapsible blade finally clattered to the floor with the soft taps Pinkerton had predicted. Simultaneously the grip on her larynx would release filling her next breath with much needed oxygen she'd been momentarily deprived. Duncan would stumble backwards some and use a table to steady himself; fear the only expression which remained on his face he searched for words, but anything he came up with seemed stuck in his own throat.

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

As he turned to stare at the camera he'd find that it was staring right back. Its double lenses and constant red light from the smaller lens regarding him in the same way as when he walked in. It clearly saw what he had done, and given she had talked to him through it as he walked in, replying directly to what he had said? Chances are it could've heard him as well. Some peoples houses are their castles, their personal bastion against the world and those who tread it, but this was not Kincaid's castle, this was not his home, and like any defendable castle, it was not designed to cater to him. If anything, it may be designed to ward him off.

But the issue was that it was not designed with a certain invader in mind.

Pinkerton's mouth opened to speak once more, but as she did not even the closest air of her breath was released. She could pull nothing in, nothing out, and the realization built far too quickly, far too late. The camera shattered, and her breath gone, and this Boto was going to kill her. She cursed herself for not keeping her blaster within her coat, and as the sound she heard was replaced with the pounding of the blood in her head all her wants and desires were replaced with the need to shoot the man where he stood, to cut his grip from her throat and to instill upon him the reminder that-

She gasped for the breath, her hand having unconsciously gripped at her own flesh in the unknowing act to attempt to pry invisible fingers from her throat. The sound returned, and though her anger did grow with each passing moment without air, the return of it did not douse the rising fire. "Who I'm dealing with? I don't have a kessing clue." Her voice was strained, fighting the obvious pain that lingered in her throat as she strode behind her desk in powerful strides. Her body below her chest not visible behind the counter, her hand went to grab her blaster, ready to defense herself should he attempt to try again.

"You're a child with a will over something you don't understand." Her eyes glared at his expression, his fear. "You control it, sure, but what happens when it controls you? What happens if you don't wrench it back before it kills someone who didn't even have a weapon?" She inhaled sharply. "I've got half a mind to turn you into someone who actually knows what the bloody kriff to do with you. But I'm reasonable, Mister Boto." Her voice leveled as the pain in her throat leveled off. "It's your choice how we go about this. I can offer you a deal, and you can walk out of here without a bounty on your head."

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

((Sorry for delay, been a hectic week.))

The fear that riddled his face was quickly wiped away when she spoke and a composure suddenly blanketed him that seemed almost unreal. The young man's nostrils flared for a moment as he inhaled a deep breath and stared for a long moment at Ari Pinkerton. He could tell by what she said that she had no true idea of what a Force user was capable of, what he was capable of. Her mention of his youth made him smile as it was something he'd never stopped hearing about.

"It is you who don't understand, Pinkerton."

His eyes left her for a moment to look up at the camera again. For the first time the carnage that had been put upon is sank into his naive mind. It was then he called upon the Force and a device came from behind his back and to that right hand. He twisted the focusing lens a number of times in his hand before tossing it to the woman.

"The collapsible vibrosword will be of use to us. I can assure you credits can be deposited wherever you'd like, can you make..." He thought for a few short seconds before dropping a number. "50 of them?"

He was unsure if the Jedi would find a use for them, but he knew it was there. They could not bring their own lightsabers most anywhere without hiding them, perhaps this woman's design would be of use to the Jedi in a way unthought of, until this point. Pointing at the lens in her hand he quirked a brow.

"Do you know what that is?"

He was sure she more than likely had never seen such a piece, but she had already surprised him more than once. He also had with him the remaining parts minus the power cell, body, and crystal to piece together a lightsaber. He crossed his arms and waited for her before continuing. If her plan to put out a bounty was still in her mind, he thought little of it; there were bounties on Jedi across the galaxy these days it seemed..

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

There was no sympathy in her eyes as her cold face glared at him in silence, as if waiting for some joke to explain itself, as if he would continue and explain himself further, but it was clear by the look on her face that she didn't expect an explanation, nor did she want one. There was a glint of anger in her eyes, but she was cautious, not one to let herself go into a burst of ill examined emotion, especially with someone so volatile in her house. She caught the focusing lens but gave it no more than a passing glance, her footfalls starting to move her over to one of her computer screens, which was out of sight of the Jedi, a light blue haze glinting from the screen.

One of her security terminals, it let her sort through the camera footage of the day, it allowed her to modify and save it, and it crudely and silently mentioned the lack of feed for quite obvious reasons. She ignored this fact, instead saving and porting the file to a few more systems linked through the terminal. The 'emergency' button caught her eye, but for the moment she hesitated. Did this constitute an emergency? He was unwelcome now, he had clearly little care for their agreed upon details, she would not pay him and she most certainly would not sell him the dirt off her boot. Her face remained still, unwavering, but even then she knew little of his powers, and put up her best mental front. She may not b a force user, but she would not simply let some scamp peer into her mind- Assuming those stories were true.

"No." She spoke calmly after the elongated silence. "I will not be making you a single thing, and I most certainly will not be paying you for your time here." Despite the frustrated look on her face that remained still, her voice did not betray her. "I think it's best you leave, Mister Boto, I'm afraid you're no longer welcome here."

 

[Duncan Kincaid]

Duncan held the woman in his gaze for a long time as she spoke. She truly was full of surprises as her backbone revealed herself, even under such unique circumstances. His sight now never left her face as her image almost burned itself into his cornea; nevertheless, he smiled and gave her a firm nod.

"It never was about payment, Ari."

He took one slow step backwards as emotion on his face went empty. The grip she held on the focusing lens would be tugged at by an invisible predator. If she didn't release the item it would shatter within her hand, however it it was let go the item would merely return to Duncan's palm and slip away.

"Greater things are at work within the galaxy, Ms Pinkerton; some I hope you will never have to understand."

He took another step backwards towards the door, thinking about to his first questions to her. The Force is as incredible an ally as it could be an enemy he began to think. Huffing in a final breath of the heavy air he would make his move for the exit. Duncan had questions of himself to answer.

 

[Ari Pinkerton]

As his will tugged on the focusing lens, it was released, and it simply flew back to her hand, and once more she gave it little interest. It meant something, but she doubted she could have simply kept it. Pinkerton watched him leave, not moving as he left her building, the crackling electronics of what remained of her camera filling the air, a small tinge of smoke, reminding her to fix the mess he had made. Even as he left she did not release the built of frustration that had accumulated over the last few minutes, leaving her feeling uncomfortable even in once more solitude.

She inhaled deeply, shaking her head as she thought of what to do. This man was certainly not acting alone, though she didn't know who he worked with. He was a force user, trained to some degree, even if it was self training. Admittingly Pinkerton knew little to nothing of the force, who could use it, and how they used it, but she knew of a group that did, perhaps the only group she could really be assured who would have some idea of who was who, and even if 'Boto' was not nor was ever a member of them, perhaps they could do more with the information than she could. After all, she had his face and voice.

The trouble was reaching out to the Jedi.

End.