Last Call

[Crim]

The Gambler's Folley
Ruusan​

The night was young and the sun of Ruusan had just recently set. It was the night right before the weekend. The bar was going to be absolutely packed with people. Most of them would be going there to have a night on the town, have a few drinks, and enjoy themselves. Unfortunately for them, they shared the bar with people who had other ideas. People who had made enemies of the Sith with espionage and foolish quests for the Republic. If any innocents died that night, it would be entirely due to the actions of these few fools.

These 'patrons' were involved in a spy ring that involved cataloging every ship that entered or left the planet. Orbital satellites normally provided local governments with this kind of information. Many ships, however, were designed to confuse the sensors on these satellites or, if the network was shoddy enough, avoid the satellites altogether. These spies created a list that was much more complete. It was a problem and the Sith were not going to stand for it. They dispatched two Sith to root out these spies and end their spy ring, by any means necessary.

Ebiara Prasinaima stood in the alleyway a few blocks from the bar, unseen and unheard by these spies. She wore simple clothes one might wear for a night out on the town. Corellian pants, boots, and a flight jacket over a black tank top. Walking into that bar dressed as a Sith would immediately draw suspicion. There were many things the Sith were good at. Blending into crowds with their robes wasn't one of these things. Her lightsaber was tucked into a pocket in her jacket. She didn't plan on keeping it in there for long.

"I went to the bar earlier today to examine the building. It has a wrap-around bar in an open room. No way we're going to be able to do much without getting seen. However, there are four other rooms: the kitchen, which contains a walk-in freezer; two bathrooms; and a keg room. I am going to try to get them alone in either the keg room or the freezer. I will store my lightsaber in whichever kill room I decide to use," she said to the other Sith, detailing her plan to take out the spies.

@Intratec

 

[Intratec]

To be out in the field once more could be considered refreshing. Her title of Moff carried its own burdens, namely the day to day running of an entire world. Tacked on to that were the military tithes to oversee. Even so, with that rank had come another, that of an Immortal, and her new title as Arcanist. It'd come as a shock upon winning the Jux Preidd Tournament. She was young, only twenty-three and now one step shy that of a Darth. It'd given her much to think upon while she and the Zelosian Sorceress traveled to Ruusan.

Her own garb was somewhat similar to Ebiara's, tight blue jeans, a, olive-hued t-shirt with an insignia, and the name 'Blue Sun' done up in blue Aurebesh. Wearing a tan jacket of soft Nerf-hide; a filmy scarf of dark blue. Footwear had been simple, a pair of black sneakers with a Sidestripe of red to break up the white sides. Her own lightsaber rested comfortably in a hidden pocket of her jacket. While the Zelosian would be able to move freely about the bar; causing no uproars or shock of fear, the Pureblood would. A genuine Sith walking into such a den of possible violent outrage would quickly escalate. It was for that reason, Ayindri had shut herself up in a private cabin on their transport to perform a painful, yet necessary task. The changing of her appearance. Mask, an alchemical ability utilized by Sith who's knowledge leaned toward the Alchemical bent may have heard of the obscure ability. And those practitioners who actually learned, let alone utilized the ability were of a smaller circle in their great organization.

Her eye-ridges had been replaced with sharply symmetrical eyebrows of dark blue, along with her hair. Teeth that once could have sawed through bone were now capped; skin that had been a rich, carmine hue was now a couple of shades lighter. Even her eyes, an almost metallic gold were now a mixture of violet with flecks of amber. While her aura of the Dark Side lay suppressed, hidden behind a meditative technique. The effect was that of a Zeltron female. Whether or not Ayindri possessed any of their wiles, or innate thirst and joy for partying remained to be seen.

"I suppose I will work the room then. Inflame their emotions; setting the stage for a prodigious bar fight to cover the noise of your slaughter once it begins. Before then, I will try to ensure there are no foul-ups." the Pureblood offered after her comrade detailed her plan. "Unless you've some other suggestion?"

@Crim

 

[Nox]

Chelin was leaning towards the outskirts of the bar, clearly eyeing anyone who walked in and seemed of somewhat value. The night was young, shit could still go down. As far as Chelin was concerned she was there to keep the peace. She wore a long robe with a hood at the top, a shade of brown.

Her lightsaber hung beneath the robe and hidden from sight due to her position. If peace was possible remained to be seen.
She spotted two individuals who seemed special, perhaps Jedi? At least she sensed some kind of presence. Most of whom were in the bar were oblivious to the possibility of sith hiding in the city.
She had wrestled with the Sith before, feeling a great pull to the dark side. She didn't think she would succumb tonight, that remains to be seen.

 

[soed]

It had been an excessively long day of losing at pazzak, the day before, when Torin had met Zya, or she had said people called her "Zya", anyway. Zya was an amanee. The night had Torin exhange pazaak for pleasant, raunchy conversation - and drinks! Torin had learned a lot of things that day, had crossed another species off the bucket list and particularly noted how amanee can apparently fall asleep in the middle of anything. It was much to his dismay that Zya had neglected to mention, or he had forgotten, that her freighter had a set destination, course input, droid piloting engaged: Ruusan. With no escape, Torin simply had to wait for the ship to dock to disembark. He couldn't handle the freighter, all her crew and then safely pilot it anywhere without consequence. Torin choose to make the best of a bad situation and engage in a series of drinking games with Zyas crew, a quite sizeable, multi-racial bunch. The amanee woman, or whatever she was, slept for what seemed like a whole twenty four hours, waking up just in time for the ship to dock. Torin again considered leaving, but as Zya apparently knew the planet like the back of her hand, and Torin - once again enjoying his shore leave, let her lead him to a bar. They had already been drinking beforehand, of course. The Sith turned to the amanee at his side, right at the entrance, and sighed. "Sorry, luv, but like I said, this is the end" and she looked at him with those baby-greens, but he shook his head firmly while subtly scanning the bar for the mark of his escape. Torin didn't move a muscle, as he noticed the easiest possible way being lit with green lights.

"See?" he said and pointed in a rather flamboyant, exaggerated manner, in the direction of the woman wearing a long brown robe at the bar, @Nox, much like his own. "That's my cousin, first time I've seen her in years!" he exclaimed with a wide grin and caught himself moving to shout at the woman across the bar. "See, you told me to mind my manners, right? On my best behaviour - but like I said, she's a bit of a xenophobe, so please... We'll be in touch, yeah?" he asked with perched brows and seemed giddy with anticipation to meet that cousin of his. A cousin minding her own business, glaring at the doorway for every new entrant. Clearly a regular and not at all suspicious; not at all law-enforcement or a Jedi... If only Torin had been half-way sober. Zya yielded and kissed him goodbye, Torin sent her a final nod, noticing she appeared to remain in the door, waiting for him to approach the woman in the robe. He gritted his teeth and went towards her, sliding in front of the petite, robe-clad woman, between her and a fat creature whose race or sex he couldn't really determine, nor care about. "Hi there," he said to the unknown face that entered his field of view and proceeded to nod in the direction of the doorway, raising his left hand to wave goodbye. "Sorry 'bout this one" he added and looked the woman, who seemed to radiate an aura he couldn't quite decipher in his drunken state, in the eyes and then attempted to embrace her in a hug with his free arm. As he initiated the action, Zya, finally satisfied, left the establishment.

@Crim

 

[Crim]

The Zelosian smirked. "I like your angle. If we run into trouble, codeword is 'Juniper,'" she said. The Zelosian left the alley and made sure she split from the other Sith. The two walking in together would be too suspicious. Of course, Ebiara could be complicated this plan, which was a fairly frequent habit of hers. That said, they were chasing spies. There was no such thing as being too careful. One wrong move and the mission could be compromised. She closed her eyes for a moment and reminded herself once more of the identity she would be assuming for the rest of the night.

Di'o Phrastus. Zelosian in-between jobs, just trying to make ends meet. She had considered using the pseudonym she had assumed as a professor at the University of Kryndyn on Zelos II, though if this thing ended up going sideways, that could compromise her alter ego. She ran through the details of her identity once more, cementing it in her head. She caught a reflection of herself in a puddle and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. The Gambler's Folley was just up ahead. There was a steady flow of patrons walking into the bar and leaving.

As she walked towards the front of the bar, a woman with horns left the bar. She definitely wasn't a Zabraak. If Ebiara was correct, that was an Amanee. She entered the bar and looked around. The bar was at a volume appropriate for the night before the weekend - pretty damn loud. It smelled of beer and... people. Someone was drinking a fruity drink nearby, the aroma hitting her nose with a sweet, intoxicating aroma. She made a mental note to have maybe one of those - many sugars had effects on Zelosians that could be described as analogous to alcohol intoxication on animal species. Fructose especially could go right to a Zelosian's head. She'd be sticking to water and maybe beer for now.

A clearly drunk man made a pass at a woman at the door. A pretty hands-on pass at that. She shot the man a death glare. She hated people who did that when she wasn't a Sith. Now that she was capable of shooting lightning from her fingertips, she was even more of a stickler about that kind of thing. Once she was sure the man had gotten the point, she walked towards the bar, making sure to keep an eye on the intoxicated one. The Zelosian wedged herself in between two people and got the bartender's attention so she could open a tab.

@Intratec

 

[Intratec]

Tugging the form hugging shirt down a little more, the Pureblood-guised as a Zeltron took in a deep breath, exhaled and strode toward The Gambler's Folly a minute or so after her Zelosian counterpart. At the door, Ayindri adopted a slight sway to her gait. The faint curl to her lips seemed to give off the impression of a secret known only to her and an unwillingness to share. Slender hips moving almost hypnotically to the walk. It was a none too subtle advertisement that yes, this was a Zeltron. And one who held themselves at a higher caliber than the rough'n ready party raging riff-raff of their kind. It appeared to be working for she'd already had to slap a hand away, instead of cleaving the person in half and torching his remains as would have been the normal course of action.

Making her way to a barstool toward the end of the bar, she hopped up onto a stool; resting an elbow on the wiped down countertop while with the other hand she doodled with a finger while waiting on the preoccupied liquor jockey.

 

[Nox]

A stranger approached Chelin. She did not recognise him, but he surely recognised her. The man decided to try to hug her. She whispered in his ear "If I do not know you, remove yourself from me. I am here on important business and I will not be stopped." Chelin was here for The Sith
Chelin knew something was going to happen. She sensed two auras....The Sith. That's what she was here for, should she try to kill them or let it slide and see what happens..

 

[soed]

Torin had always been rather intuitive, a skill he retained regardless of his inebriated state - just being unable to properly utilize it and determine the right course of action. Torins intuition told him that the woman, who had responded to his embrace with a delightful, thinly-veiled threat, was clearly there in some kind of law-enforcement capacity, whether she was a Republic fool or a Jedi tool. She did emanate a certain aura, though, certainly. Torin spoke without thinking, placing his right elbow on the bar, smiling cheekily before he replied: "You know, woman, I think you'd be a lot more efficient at your task, if you loosened up a little," and then he lifted the fingers of his right hand, as if such an action would beckon the barkeep to simply come running. "See, I do know you," he added and gently shook his head. "And a pretty woman such as yourself is truly wasted in the decrepit order of self-abnegation that is the Fellowship of the Jedha" he finally declared, growing increasingly annoyed with the lack of service at the bar, though he had only just come there. The right hand became a fist, unmoving.

While Torin had become convinced the woman was a Jedi, he didn't, at that moment, possess the mental faculties to recoil from her and display his own true colours - because they certainly were his true colours; he was Sith, however low-ranking, errand-running and humiliated an acolyte sometimes was, it was still what he was. There could potentially be gained from engaging the Jedi in dialogue, he thought to himself in his inhibited mind, and she was quite pretty too - such a shame, to think a man would never bed her. Maybe Torin would be the one to break her spell and give her the lay of a lifetime, a memory she could and would always cherish. She would know him as her first love and he would always have a place by her side, though he would never have time nor interest.

As Torin thought such things to himself, his glazed eyes sought to stare deep into the soul of the woman he had deemed Jedi, to stare at her very core and make her heart melt. He was irresistable, right?

@Crim

 

[Crim]

"I'll have an Imperial Stout," she said, naming some kind of beer, hoping the bartender would oblige. She once discovered that spilling herself into a barstool and grunting her drink order as 'gimme a beer' earned her fairly dirty looks. While she waited on the bartender to pour her drink, she sat patiently and listened to the people around her. Even before she was a Sith, Ebiara was fond of 'people-watching.' She liked wondering what people were doing. What they were thinking. She would sometimes wonder who was having a bad day, who was having a good day, who was going to remember that day, who was going to let that day fade into the nothingness of forgetfulness.

She turned her ear to the two women next to her, on her left. Two soccer moms who were talking about their kids' games. It took her less than a second to turn her attention elsewhere. The guys to her right, who were celebrating their friend's eighteenth birthday and taking him out to get plastered. She looked at the bartenders, who seemed to just be... ordinary. They were the every day people of the Galaxy. They woke up, drank their blue milk, went to work, came back home, and went to sleep. Day in and day out. 24/7. Wherever Ebiara was sitting seemed to be one of the worst places in the bar for espionage. The nerve of these people.

Just as she was about to scope out somewhere to take her drink, someone caught her ear.

There are some words that tend to stick out from the others in Galactic Basic. There were thousands upon thousands of words, and there were some that seemed to command more attention. Many of these were swear words, which were abundantly clear in the bar. Words with strong inflections or consonants. Words with strong meanings behind them. What word fell upon her ears was... really not a word she wanted to hear. 'Jedi.' Or, at least, some variation of the word. She risked a turn and, sure enough, it was the drunk guy and the very obviously uncomfortable girl.

Suddenly, the two soccer moms started talking louder. Too loudly. Ebiara faced the bar and softly said to the one closest to her, "Your children are boring and you want to go home and scold them."
"My children are boring and I want to go home and scold them," the woman on her immediate left said in her shrill voice. She stood up, leaving with an absent gaze on her face. Ebiara returned her attention to the drunk guy and the girl before the other soccer mom said to Ebiara, "That was the strangest thing. Did you see that?" The Sith scowled and said, "You want to go home ."
"I want to go home" the other soccer mom said. Ebiara returned her attention to the drunk guy and the girl.
@Intratec

 

[Intratec]

Leaning forward on the bar counter, the Sith masquerading as a Zeltron kept up her sensual mystique. After one of the patrons had been served a beer, the overworked bartender bustled to her corner. "Cassandra Sunrise," purring the order out. The bartender gave Ayindri a doubtful look. "Ma'am, one of those is strong enough to put several humans on their backs."

She laughed, the tinkling of silver bells, "Oh come now, I'm made of stronger stuff." wearing a coy smile, the disguised Pureblood placed a fingertip to her bottom lip as if in thought. "Well, I'm waiting," she continued on expectantly. "It's your ass," the man said before going off to conjure up the liver-destroying drink. Sitting there, Ayindri had no cause to look at others. As a Pureblood her senses surpassed humans, but her hearing went beyond even this. Part of her paternal inheritance from being the daughter of a Massassi Warrior. The subtle undercurrent of Force use prickled the skin; tugging at senses beyond those of a normal humanoid. Listening to, two mothers, one took on the stark monotone of one being pushed by an unseen ability. One down. . . It was then that she heard a second, the other woman take on the same tone and making her leave.

By this point in time, a cup was placed before her, a tiny neon pink umbrella sticking out of the drink. Plucking it up, the Sith twirled it between two fingers before losing interest and shifting said faltering attention to the drink in front of her. Now was her chance to peep at those around her. She was just an ordinary patron, one with tastes in alcohol that could literally shorten a human's life. Pushing a few metallic silver credit sticks toward the bartender. Transaction complete, Ayindri lifted her glass; turning her stool about to look at the crowded mass that made up tonight's main event. With a faint curl of the lips, the 'Zeltron' crossed her legs and sipped gingerly at the libation.

@Crim

 

[Nox]

"Stop staring at me." She said with a strong tone. Indicating him to leave her presence, she knew well that he would not listen, especially not in his drunken state. Two women from the bar left, weird. They both left so...emotionaless. Something was happening here. Chelin looked around seeing people from all over the galaxy. Bounty hunters ready to kill, friendly diplomats, ordinary people, And..... well. She began to walk forward hoping the man to lose her tail. At least that is what she hoped would happen. She walked up to the bar and sat down on the metallic chairs. "Just something weak, " she said to the bartender.
After a few moment, her drink arrived. It was something special. It smoked with some kind of gas, was someone trying to poison her? She did not care that much, after all, she was here for the Sith, which she has not sensed in a while now....

 

[soed]

Something stirred in Torin the way only force use could, but he put the tingly feeling down to alcohol; delicious, inescapeable alcohol. The woman at his side wholly ignored his advances and instead reaffirmed her lack of interest. Torin smiled widely and was about to speak, as the Jedi stood up, walked in a circle, and ended up back at the bar, albeit somewhere not in his immediate vicinity. Torin, rather befuddled, once more relocated to the womans side, this time with drink in hand and in quite overstated, theatrical fashion. Jedi were interesting, and regardless what came of their interaction, Torin figured it would be worth his time.

"What are you doing out in a bar, anyway, Jedi?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink. "You know, I used to be a Jedi too - they took my lightsaber and expelled me because I was having too much fun," he lied, tugging a bit on his relatively loose robe, afterwards, "Always did like the clothes, though," and he winked at her, wearing a cheeky grin, "Easy access".

@Crim

 

[Crim]

The bartender placed the dark beer in front of Ebiara. Just as her drink arrived, the girl sat next to Ebiara. Sure enough, the drunk guy was on her tail. Ebiara took a sip of her drink, reveling in that first sip of cold beer. With the two talking about Jedi now closer to her, she was able to hear considerably better. She sized the two up, wondering if they truly knew what they were talking about or if the drunk man was simply an idiot. Sure enough, he started claiming that he was once in the Jedi Order. She came to the conclusion that he didn't have any relevant information to give. She'd need him away so she could hear the crowd better, find the spies she was looking for, eliminate them, and leave ASAP.

Ebiara took another sip and smirked. "I doubt you were ever a Jedi, but the celibate life style doesn't sound that far-fetched," she said. "Beat it. She's not interested. I think I saw a girl over there giving you the eye," she continued, nodding her chin at a patron on the other side of the building.

@Intratec

 

[Intratec]

Eyes roving across the patrons, it was relatively easy to pick up on the emotional melting pot floating unseen in the atmosphere. The sweet scent of love, the spicy sting of lust, sadness's' acrid tang, the dour musk of desperation and low and behold the sharp, biting scent of untapped anger. This place was primed and ready to burst with but a little nudge in the right places. Sipping the glowing drink, Ayindri couldn't help but enjoy being able to sit among the arrayed lowlifes the galaxy had to offer. Well, sit among them and their not going for blasters or screaming while fleeing. Refreshing, quite refreshing.

She placed a finger on the rim of the glass, absently running it across the clear surface and pondered just the right method to get this place to explode into a bloody cavalcade of alcohol-fueled brawling.

 

[Nox]

"Jedi? You think I am a Jedi?" She chuckled. The bartender arrived with her drink, she could sense the weakness of it. It was weaker than water, weird.
She took a sip of the drink. "And yes the robes are easy acsessible, I can just-" She pushes her robe to the side and "take out my lightsaber" shows him the lightsaber. The turned forward and sipped her drink. It wasent all that bad, but she was paranoid of the events on Kashyyyk.

 

[soed]

Torin was sipping his drink, when what he deemed a sultry voice began beckoning him from the other side. He turned his head just in time to be annihilated verbally by the woman, and nearly choked trying to swallow while laughing. Torin, stifling his laughter, quickly put his drink down on the counter as to not spill any of the valuable, delicious liquid. The other woman, wearing a midriff-revealing top underneath her flight jacket kept talking, something about someone giving another "the eye"; as Torin was momentarily in a daze, deep in thought of how he could have a quite extraordinary encounter involving both of the perky, feisty women.

Torin had to immediately snap back to reality, though, as the initial target, the Jedi, spoke of "accesible robes". He managed to raise an eyebrow and widen his eyes, just to be disappointed when what was revealed was a lightsaber, and not bare skin, which she brandished. Torin sighed deeply and grabbed a hold of his drink yet again, ever composed. "Be careful with that," he said and took a quick sip. "A shame though, isn't it?" he directed his gaze momentarily towards the woman in the flight jacket, thinking aloud "Even clad in that drapy mess, there is no question that body is wasted, is there?" he finished and shook his head, gulping down the rest of his drink, placing the empty container on the counter once more.

Torin then decided, in that moment, that he would find some way to undermine or possibly capture the Jedi. Ideally he would bed her, but her demeanor didn't seem particular inviting, and she didn't seem to be drinking to the point of it inhibiting her judgment to such a degree. He needed a plan, and he needed it yesterday. Close quarters combat was out of the question - and besides, any violent action would result in abject chaos in the crowded bar. She didn't seem to recognize his status at that point, and even though he was quite good at hiding his aura, it was still surprising to him, given he didn't put particular effort into doing just that, at that moment. Then again, Torin had been told his "force" appeared wild and untamed, rather than necessarily "dark side". Both Jedi and Sith had been puzzled by it, he had been made aware, which stuck Torin as an immensely useful quality.

@Crim

 

[Crim]

The girl next to her showed the drunk man her lightsaber. A faint smirk ran across her face. This girl could lead her to the spies. Maybe even other Jedi. Ebiara took a sip of her drink and placed her arm on the bar, turning towards the drunk man.

"She's not interested. Leave before one or both of us feeds you your teeth," Ebiara said to the drunk man. Jedi or no, she really just wanted him out of that girls hair. She was a Sith and therefore had a history of doing very questionable tbings, but she never really liked people who were so... crass.

"You're welcome," she said to the Jedi, sipping her beer. "You're brave to carry your lightsaber around, let alone show it to people. Especially to people like that."

@Intratec