It'd been some time since she'd last seen Nar Shaddaa.
"Jes' as dirty," as she remembered it. Her HUD certainly complied--a long list of pollutants flooded the stream across the side of her vision, all unknown origin or to be wary of. That the Sector stood just shy of freezing was yet another damned thing to flash orange on her screen.
Simple enough job: go into the sector, find the runaway, bring them back to Cujo ya Hatta. Easy. She'd been good enough at that, once upon a time.
Once upon a time was a long kriffin' time ago.
The cantina breathed around her in the pulses of uncomfortably loud music, pounding even through the muffled proofing of her helmet. Nar Shaddaa's gritty, expensive and rich populous enjoyed, on occasion, the foray into the desperate living. Romanticize the suffering in their little parties that made some cantinas more money than some planets in one night cycle.
She wanted to killbreak something.
A red target cursor flashed across her HUD. There you are. It settled on the human's face just as he leveled his bloodshot eyes on her.
And there he goes.
She sidestepped the crowd, making her way to the first exit of two--guessing he'd leave through the side exit as opposed to the alley entrance through the kitchens. Sadly, her guess proved right, and so went the mind numbingly simple job--with even the bouncers leaving her be, she wondered just what the hell her purpose there was, exactly.
He rammed neck first into her extended arm as he turned too fast out the door, and collapsed to the floor. She placed her boot on his chest as he lifted at the waist to get up, and abruptly leveled the point of her blaster between his eyes.
"Alive was listed as preferable," chilled her helmet amps, mechanical and distant.
The target stopped fidgeting.
"That's a good boy." She dropped cuffs on his lap. "Put these on, if y' don't mind."
