Genesis [Bounty Hunt]

[Jack]

Light music pulsed through the establishment, driving the atmosphere into a more upbeat and enjoyable one for many. An effort to pull away thoughts from anything exterior to the bar. The patrons served with a joyous but humble approach and reciprocated their clients to fit their needs. One man in particular sit on the short arm of an L shaped counter. Before him an empty glass with partially melted ice. His cold eyes regarded the structure of the container, his mind deep in contemplative thought until his vision focused on the condensation. His mouth drying and searching for more. His hand rose in response, a reflex more than active thought. A keeper stole a glass and nodded, working through the bar to provide him with what he was after. The old man pulled a card from his clothing and swiped it through a contraption attached to the counter top. Assigning the order to his account, to be paid.

Long grey hair and a thick but short beard covered his entire jawline and mouth. Dark patches of hair blended through in defiance of the age-old marker. Across his face multiple light scars and a twisted burn scar. He was beaten and destroyed in many physical aspects, his mind marginally in better condition, but he was still alive and had many memories to prove it. As well as the information. He was now unemployed officially, retired by many means. Except to those who tended to the underworld. There, he was an information broker and a damned good one. His business was considered elite and trustworthy. The price justified by his accuracy, but a premium for most or perhaps your most trivial cases.

The rest of the bar was occupied lightly. Your standard patrons lined the main length of the counter atop the stools. The rest of the tables and booths housed a few individuals but only to about half capacity. Music was produced digitally across speakers rather than a live band, with lighting lowered to grant a private but closed off atmosphere. The low hum of conversation was distorted enough to prevent eavesdropping but noticeable enough to be distinguished separately to the music.

The glass beneath his gaze was swiftly replaced with another, though the next contained more liquid and fresh ice. His vision lifted with a nod to show thanks before dropping back, his mind wandering back to the next meeting he had planned. A few hours away but it was one he would need to address carefully. The clients were antsy and short tempered. People he would prefer not to deal with but they paid well. The downside was that his information almost had to fit their expectations, if they were upset by it there could b consequences for him as a simple messenger. He wasn't going to compromise the integrity of his information for guaranteed safety, so a risk he would have to take for the benefit of his reputation.

@Jabonicus

 

[Jabonicus]

Cantina's were quite good in terms of bounty hunting. Informants hung out due to the relative security of the area, and a few drinks tended to loosen their lips a bit. Alcohol was one of the best payments, in Clara's opinion. With a lightsaber strapped to her hip, she strode over to the table next to the old man, he didn't look like much, but she knew what he did. Small time information brokers often sold the location and identity of more experienced brokers, as odd as that might be. Regardless, it got people off their backs when they didn't have the information, and it got them paid.

Sitting down directly next to him, her glowing eyes looked over him with inquisitive determination. This man held information about her target, a Sith named Evelyn Hunter. That much she knew, what she didn't know, however, was how she was going to get the information out of him. Through credits, through alcohol, or through some less approved means. She had a lot riding on this bounty, and while, if she lost it, she wouldn't be short many credits....

If she caught the Sith, on the other hand. She'd be rich.

"Hey." She spoke up in a monotome, feminine yet mechanical voice. "I need information."

 

[Jack]

His eyes didn't budge, they didn't need to. The presence of the Jedi was more than obvious to the man, as he supposed it was meant to be. Tilting his head back, the old man withdrew some of the liquid from the glass before placing it back down. He could feel her gaze, he didn't like being watched. He didn't like being interrupted. He still hadn't acknowledged her, despite her greeting and giving her motive for even coming near him. He let silence instill for a minute, his mind and eyes far out on a distant train completely unrelated to her. It was only when he'd come to the finish that he took a quick glance. "I need a good woman and a million credits. He replied, taking a final pull from the glass to empty it. He waved to the keeper before finally turning to face his guest.

"Hey? What the fuck is that? Is that how you greet strangers?" He asked, incredulously. Before she could attempt a response his hand rose and waved through the air as if trying to remove her train of thought. "Don't answer that. You want information." He paused, looking around the bar in fake paranoia before leaning closer to follow through with the act. "Honey, Information I have." He offered. It was only when he continued that she might see that he was mocking her. "That guy over there has three mistresses, that guy over there is planning to murder someone and that guy there is checking you out, he looks nice don't you think?" He pointed to each as he went through his little game. As he finished, the keeper arrived with a fresh glass swapping his old one out for the new. The keeper hung around for a moment before producing a glass for Clara as well. He turned to face the other side of the bar and pointed to an average looking fellow leaning against the counter. The old man tilted his head to see around the keeper who was now blocking his vision. The flirting man winked at Clara before turning back to his drink. "See. Nice." He added with a grin, the sarcasm could practically be seen it was so thick.

 

[Jabonicus]

Her eyes clicked as she observed the mocking informant. He had a sense of humor, something sparse in this business. She liked it. Her eyes made an audible sound as she looked over at the flirting man. She doubted that he knew about her lack of a face, it was hard to tell from that distance, after all.

Deciding to not ruin his admiration, Clara turned her attention back to the informant. She ordered the same drink he had, sliding it over to the old man. "Hello, I don't believe we've met. You see, I'm trying to hunt down someone for money. Would you be willing to help me?" She restarted, her monotone voice showing no emotion.

He was going to play this game? That was fine, she had time to waste.

 

[Jack]

A chuckle rolled from the old man as he took another sip. "Better." He added, crunching some ice stolen from the drink between his teeth as he contemplated how to proceed. He took a long look at her as he thought, his mind processing both her mechanical like sounds and movements as well as what would best serve his interests. Finally he pulled his eyes away before answering her, his gaze now shifted to his glass. "I might. Why should I? What do you have to offer me? Before you can even give compensation for the information you want, you'll need to know it's worth." He tossed the ball back into her court. If she wasn't in the mood for games, then she would be better off making her visit quick.

His hand moved the second glass back to her. He didn't know what she was, but she wasn't entirely human. It made him curious, so instead he watched her while he awaited her response and more information. His glances covered her entire body, spotting the blade out of the open and the lack of other gear. Not much gear for someone hunting another down. The weapon was dangerous, and deadly. It also made him additionally cautious. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved with particular groups. After observing her for a noticeable time he turned back to his drink, tossing even more down his gullet.

 

[Jabonicus]

Rolling her eyes with a click, she made a garbled, electronic noise that could only be compared to some sort of sigh. He wanted to play this game, and to be honest, Clara wasn't the biggest fan of it. She wasn't sure how he has gone through a lifetime of this job without growing bored of such games.

"Looking for a woman. A Sith, Evelyn Hunter. Big bounty, big challenge. I'm not going to play games. Do you know where she is?" She responded simply, tapping her metal fingers against the counter. "I'd suggest you pick your next words carefully." She warned as her eyes glared against the old man.

 

[Jack]

The old man eyed her cautiously, a woman in a hurry and without regard for the people she worked with was a dangerous woman. He turned to his drink to finish it off. His composure so far was completely untouched by the alcohol, a seasoned drinker with an iron body and solid mind. He was enjoying the taste, not the high. With her various more than obvious social signals of her hurry, he took the hint and finally confronted her. "How long have you been hunting?" He asked at first, though he wouldn't give her a chance to answer. It was rhetorical to set the tone.

"Threaten me all you like, there are very few people who have information on the woman you speak of and many less who have accurate information. I can guarantee that the fastest way you lose all hope of finding her, is by causing trouble with the people who do know." He waved off the bartender who had approached and offered for a replacement. Instead he turned to face the Jedi face on. "That impatience of yours will get you killed. You hunt her because of her bounty, enough for anyone to retire on quite luxuriously." He paused, regarding her before continuing. "Fact is, she has a bounty that high for a reason. It's also unclaimed for a reason. Not saying you can't, but if you think shoving people around and hurrying about is going to be your ticket to a quick payout, you're dead wrong. I mean dead wrong." His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a harsh tone. "Kill me if you will, you sure as hell won't get it out of me then. You want that information, then provide me with a reason to. That information isn't common, and she sure as hell is a much more convincing threat than you are." He finished, turning back to the bar. He remained silent and let the words sink in. Only after a small silence would he turn partially to her.

"So. Let's start from the start. Why are you hunting her?"

 

[Jabonicus]

Her face showed no emotion, not that it could anyway. The mimicry of flesh by metal was far from perfect, and emotion was one of the things it lacked any ability of. However, it was emotion in the traditional sense that she could no longer display. Emotion displayed in different, hard to understand ways, that was something else entirely. The metallic plates that made of half of the woman's head quivered as the man spoke, almost rattling as his rebuttal hit her like a shattering glass ball against the ground.

Her eyes adjusted themselves with a click, focusing on his dull eyes directly. It was a gruesome, inhuman and mechanical stare that showed no life, no emotion as it observed him. "Why am I hunting her?" She echoed, her voice rising. "I need the credits." She resounded firmly, pointing at her face. "So I can fix this shit." Her face opened, in quite the literal sense. The plates moved outwards and away, showing the gruesome amalgamation of flesh and metal left behind.

Metal bars and circuitry welded into scar tissue and raw muscle. Screws and wires vulgarly penetrated scarred meat deep within her face. Bits of bones chipped away into rounder, less threatening shapes to cause less potential damage to circuitry. The flesh was taught over the surface of meat and dead flesh, an unknown amount fake, an unknown amount desperate real flesh, trying to grow back the face that had been gone for years.

In front of all the vulgarity, though, was what made up her face now. Two large orbs hung where her eyes once lay, held in place by several pulleys and rods, wired back in tubes towards her head. Many redundant sets of wires and tubings ran throughout her face, no doubt damage control should some find themselves compromised. Below her mechanical, inhuman eyes lay a mockery of what was once a mouth. Two vials, connected to a tube that ran down the woman's throat. The vials, in turn, where connected to wide-tipped syringes, meaning the woman's diet consisted entirely of liquid.

Then, after just a few seconds, her face closed once more. "Does that answer your question?"

 

[Jack]

Instinctively the old man cringed, partially backing away as the woman's face literally turned itself open in a display. His curiosity still had his eyes attached, looking as his face was partially angled away. He knew little of cybernetics and the abilities of the field at the time. Only that it had saved more than one life and was currently a viable way to live. As clearly was being demonstrated. The more he looked, the more hooked he got on how it was all attached and working. A mild fascination from a gore point of view. It was clear to him what this had done to her, but how the money would help was beyond his current understanding. Full reconstruction was limited, and with the current modifications it would seem even more difficult. Or so he believed.

However, he was slightly convinced. A gruesome fate to behold for anyone and this woman was still functioning, if you'd call it that. Her face closed back together and she reiterated her point, obvious enough as to why. Eve wouldn't be happy, but that's if she found out. He turned away for a moment, pulling out his datapad. Going through the motions and security measures as privately as he could, he came to a file and pulled from it a number before shutting it back down. "Here. Go there, ask for Jimmy Byrne." He replied, sliding a small note quickly scribbled, co-ordinates and the name of the contact. The location was on another planet, no doubt familiar to the woman. Nar Shaddaa.

 

[Jabonicus]

"There, was that so hard?"

Clara delicately picked up the note, looking over it before putting it in her pocket. Then, without another word, she stood up, turning towards the door, walking with a gait that preferred her left leg.

Nar Shadaa.

The planet where she would either make a fortune, or lose her best chance and getting something that could be considered a normal face. She would either kill the wanted woman and come back with her head, or hang her own down in disappointed.

She much preferred the first option.

 

[Jack]

The Old man watched her off, a slight huff at her last remark while she pocketed the note he had given her. Ungrateful His mind worded, passing off her impatience and poor attitude as a side affect of her trauma. He turned back to his drink, eyeing the next lot he had business with. The alcohol had loosened him, but he was in no way impaired.

Nar Shaddaa. The underworld moon, ruled by crime and the men that thrived in it. The streets were filthy with many beggars and even more scam artists. Guards stood out front of entrances while neon lights illuminated the main streets with flashing and overly attention seeking signs. Each the same as the next with it's own unique twist. Another bar, there were never enough bars. This one was quieter than the last, groups of individuals collected together in large booths to be served in private and without interruption. The lights were low, illuminating only the smallest of features while the servers avoided eye contact and transactions were made straight without details. No questions, no problems.

At the bar, back facing the door, an individual sat. No drink, no nothing. Instead the figure remained motionless while the staff avoided going near them. It might have been something to question anywhere else, but here of all places, it was a sign to stay right the hell away from. The figure wore a long all encompassing black robe, hood included. For them, the night was just beginning.

 

[Jabonicus]

Rough, uneven footsteps stepped through the Cantina, directed towards the lonesome figure that no one dared acknowledge. She had business with him, business that a bad vibe would not pull her away from. She sat down across from the figure, sinking down in the seat silently as she passed a slip of paper towards the figure.

It was the paper the last informant had given her. If this was the right person, he would recognize what it meant. If not... Well, a mistake like that would just be embarrassing. She didn't say a word, her glowing eyes simply staring at the figure, waiting for some response; for some acknowledgement of her presence.

 

[Jack]

The hooded figure shifted at the approach of the Padawan, her presence obviously disturbing them. The piece of paper passed along was regarded quickly, a chuckle the only consolation that Clara would find. Though she would likely take note that the chuckle emanating from the figure wasn't male, the tone far too soft and gentle. Instead, she would find the feminine voice once more, as the figure pulled her hood back. "I'm afraid he's unavailable. May I be of service?" The woman asked, pale skin and silver hair. Her eyes dark, sunken while her iris flickered with flames, the orange and red burning a fire deeper than the Jedi might have realized.

Eve regarded the woman before her, a bio-mechanical mess. Her eyes fixated on her jaw momentarily, her gentle voice seething with subtle animosity and sickness. [color=B22222]"My, aren't you just the broken one."[/color] Her hand feigned to reach out and brush Clara's jaw. Instead it remained back, her fingers curling almost as if she were from a distance. Only then did her eyes snap to those opposing her. "I hear you've been looking for me dear. What is it that you want?" She pressed. Underneath the table her hand gripped her lightsaber. She wasn't defensively, but rather the opposite. She had been alerted to the presence of Clara hunting her, and this was merely the best chance she had to meet on even terms.

 

[Jabonicus]

Clara leaned back, a dull expression on her artificial face. In reality she was quite surprised, she hadn't expected that she would be meeting her target on such... Peaceful terms. For a moment, she waited for an attack, for any sort of assault, yet none came.

Leaning forward again, she placed her elbows on the table, taking a deep breath. "What I want is quite simple. I want the money on your head, so I can fix my face. What you do after that is none of my business. So if you would, please just surrender and make it easier for the both of us." She knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

Her eyes clicked as she observed the woman, and a plate of her face opened up and moved out of the way, and a syringe and vial pushed out. Her organic hand grabbed the syringe tightly, giving it a few twists, until it refused to move and further. With that, the contraption inside her face slipped back behind metal plates, and the metal plate that had move slid back into place.

 

[Jack]

The Echani watched the hunter, her eyes observing every movement and reaction but it seemed there was minimal. Was it a result of the damage caused? Or was it a result of the attempt to restore her face? For a moment the woman wondered if the Padawan could even feel pain in her face if she was incapable of reacting with real emotions. A smile brought to her features as her opponent spoke of surrendering, a chuckle finally escaping when the voice trailed off. Her own picking up in response. "Unfortunately, I can't do that. I quite enjoy being alive." Her eyes narrowed as she finished the last word. Watching carefully to see the next move. She could attempt to bribe her target away, but it was a significant amount of credits to pay out, and she felt no larger threat than usual.

It was a risk, but that was part of having her identity compromised by her history. With nothing else to add herself, she stood while folding her arms into each other. "Now that business has been taken care of. I'll be taking my leave. Find another way to fix your face, else you risk losing your head instead." She finalized, a cold tone upon her lips as she strode away from the table. Her senses still sharp and preparing for any counter attack. Eve had little doubt that the Jedi would pursue her further, no one initiated a bounty contract for that much and then turned away. You only took that heavy a bounty when your options were limited in the first place. The lightsaber in her grip still holding steady as she moved to the exit.

 

[Jabonicus]

Clara was not one to let her target leave so easily. Especially when she had put forth so much effort in finding the target to begin with. So as her target declared the business finished and began to leave, Clara knew she had to act, and she had to act now.

Standing up, she drew her lightsaber, activating it as it's dull golden glow filled the space around her. Voices in the cantina fell to a hush. She did not move, nor did she attack, she simply faced her opponent, to see how she would respond to this aggressive notion.

 

[Jack]

An unmistakable sound, one that could be life saving or life threatening. All in all, it was something dangerous and to be respected. Her intention to leave suddenly drawn far away, the golden blade a symbol of something she couldn't ignore. The Echani turned, her green eyes glaring at the Padawan, inspecting the fidelity of the woman. Casually she let the robe fall from her body, beneath a basic Sith combat uniform. No armor, just tighter clothes and less to flap around in. With the sleeves upon her arms much shorter now, her lightsaber would be in easy view. She didn't activate it yet however, instead taking a step forward back to Clara. "You're playing a dangerous game, far too eager to die." She hissed.

The weapon held up before her was unusual, not many had access to such a weapon and even fewer knew how to utilize it correctly. If she was untrained it would be just as dangerous to herself as it would to Eve, but a confidence in her stance was enough to assume experience. "What are you? Jedi?" She asked, curiosity couldn't be sated by a corpse, she had every intention of finding out how her opponent had come across the blade.

 

[Jabonicus]

"I'm Clara Kriffing Nasume." She replied quite sternly, before stepping forward, her organic hand jutting forward, a sudden gust of power springing from it as energy rutted towards Evelyn. If it hit her directly, it would likely knock her back a few feet, into the table behind her. If she avoided it, however, she would be faced with Clara's next move.

Clara, regardless of how her attack had turned out, took several steps forward, striking down in a slash from Evelyn's left shoulder to right hip.

 

[Jack]

And just like that the scene exploded into chaos, Clara's arm shot out with vicious precision with an explosive energy. The assassin was prepared for conflict, leaving her able to see the attack and brace herself. The energy crashed into crossed arms as Eve herself shielded herself from the most, her balance thrown backward, she slid on grasping feet while the energy ripped around her. The booths and their items around and behind her tossed into chaos with loose items crashed into the wall. The golden blade following thereafter with a diagonal swing, the cross-guard enforced by Evelyn to disperse a lot of the force push had her weapon in front already.

Her hand shifted to twist the weapon into a vertical block at first but followed around with an overhead arc. Attempting to push Clara's blade in an arc from the block at Evelyn's left shoulder, around the outside and over her head towards her right side. While doing so, her left hand channeled the same energy used against her with a quick thrust. The rather small, and quick adaption of Clara's attack aimed to the chest, primarily to create distance and disengage the lightsaber duel.

The patrons of the bar quickly dispersed, the nature of the planet and the area itself had the citizens well practiced in random encounters. A few cursing and carrying on, while the bartender disappeared out the back. No doubt the duel would attract even more unwarranted attention, but whether it would last long enough for anyone to confront the two was another question.

 

[Jabonicus]

Their blades clashed for a brief few moments, before Clara was hit by an unexpected burst of power, sending her skidding back into the table behind her. As she collapsed on it, the table itself broke off its single leg, bending towards her, keeping her relatively upright as the table kept in some odd amount of balance by being stuck within the wedges of the booth's seats.

Pushing herself to her feet, a few feet away from the Sith, she reached out, fueled by both concentration and anger, gripping a nearby table, yanking it with frightening speed towards Evelyn.