» Who: Dremire and Arkaidy
» Where: Coruscant, Lower Levels
» What: A plan formulates on how to deal with a Jedi.
» When: Kind of a response to this.
Arkaidy had ordered a drink for appearances sake, but it sat untouched between her hands – some sort of lukewarm swill that reminded her of Huttese bathwater. She surmised that description might actually make a decent name for a disgusting drink, but currently the thought only served to put her off about it even further. She frowned, inwardly chiding herself; she was avoiding the things she ought to be thinking about: first a foremost the Jedi Varinn Jayne.
There hadn’t been much on him, and what little she did have was scavenged from some degenerate – and dead – dark lord’ personal filed. It could’ve been skewed, outdated, or outright incorrect. She perhaps could learn more about him is if she was to pursue another Jedi, but she didn’t wish to involve anyone else in the Order. Varinn was a renegade, certainly, but he wasn’t considered outright dangerous by the Republic – yet. If his connection to a Sith Lord became public, the situation could become complicated very quickly and not in a way that would benefit her current mission.
“You’ll still get what you were promised. “ She narrowed her eyes at him.
“I’m not trying to kill him. Not yet, anyway. He is protected until he becomes a liability – after all, he still has a purpose to serve.”
Dark lords – defectors, betrayers, and even the personal enemies of her own employer – their fate was being orchestrated while she sat with a Chiss in this rubbish cantina. Each of them had put a target on themselves, and each of them would eventually be murdered by a Jedi with a vendetta. It kept the politics back on Dromund Kaas cleaner this way; being able to bow your head in brief memoriam of the dead murdered by a common enemy, and then move on to bigger and better things.
“But,” she conceded with a sith, “we need to be prepared. Jedi. They are like –“ she paused, “You know who they are like. They can sense individuals, read intention. If we can’t get into the apartment, I – you – whomever – will simply put him on his toes in another way. Feed the paranoia, propel him into action. If he runs, I want him running with a purpose, not spinning through space like a defective escape pod.”
She illustrated her point by spiraling her finger around the rim of her drink and the bounty hunter chuckled into his transmitter, his voice a pleasant echo in her ear.
Either way, the next step was intel. Make sure that the Jedi Varinn Jayne was complying with the agreement he had made. If he could turn his back on the Order, what made one secret agreement with a Sith too sacred to break? Arkaidy wondered at what point he would be considered too dangerous, even as a tool, and who would be sent to inform him of his termination. She sighed, pushing back the headache that was forming towards the front of her skull.
“Cortosis, carbonite – all of those things are either too expensive or too scarce to be collected in time. We’ll have to plan around what we have on hand.” Arkaidy reached behind her, sliding a datapad out of the bag strapped to her back underneath her heavy overcoat. She slid her fingers along the top of the device and it sprung to life, glowing a brilliant blue that lit the dimness of the booth. Her fingers quickly entered an access code and she scrolled through a stream of information that immediately popped up on the screen.
“I have to get my hands dirty, bounty hunter, but in my own fields of specialty.”
Dremire leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms. “Just sayin’.”
“Don’t worry – your skills will be employed. I have an idea, but it’s going to require you to be a bit of an actor…”
» Who: Arkaidy Hrath and Dremire
» Where: Coruscant, Lower Levels
» What: Arkaidy, currently investigating the movements of a certain Jedi in order to protect a Sith lord's interests, teams with with the bounty hunter Dremire to skulk around the Republic capitol.
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“So. He knows,” Arkaidy muttered in frustration.
“Nah, how’d you figure?”
She dropped her electrobinoculars and glared at the Chiss beside her, who was reclining back against a dingy metal wall with his hands behind his head. He shot her a cocky grin, and she narrowed her eyes further but said nothing. Almost in unison, the two walked away from the thick transparisteel window of the apartment they’d been spying from, stepping over the mess made by the former occupant when he had protested their intrusion.
The hallway was empty and quiet, as expected. Arkaidy tightened her coat and Dremire took his helmet from under his arm and slid it over his head, slipping the pressurized switches with relaxed precision. The door slid shut behind the duo, and they disappeared through the corridors to the main thoroughfare of the undercity, unseen by the deftly sliced cameras in the housing building they’d departed.
“The intel was good, bounty hunter. That’s what matters.”
“If you say so, boss.”
Arkaidy made a mental note of the sarcasm in his voice.
“He’s arrogant. We still have time.”
Jostled, the two were lost in the crowd – faces in a mob, lit only by the flashing neon signs and holos that lined the street. Taste seemed to decline with altitude in the Republic capitol, Arkaidy dryly observed, swerving to avoid a retching alien who was slumped up against the side of an establishment that appeared to be equal parts bar, brother, and convenience store.
They walked in silence, calculating the distance to where the Jedi was likely staying. In a way, Arkaidy envied the bounty hunter’s easy stride – she had to carefully monitor her inclination to match with perfect posture, instead settling for an imitation of the slouching shuffle of the downtrodden Republic citizens around her.
She stopped when she felt Dremire’s hand brush her elbow, and glanced aside to the entrance to another rise of low-end apartments. The crowd had thinned, and she noted the lack of lighting nearby – it appeared to be intention, judging from the shot-out streetlamps. An interesting choice of residence for a wayward Jedi, but not altogether unusual. Perhaps there was a shortage of lost, ancient temples in which to sit and stew – or perhaps she was comparing him too much to a Sith. Pushing her moment of private irreverence aside, she took a quick note of the location and started off down the road again, the Chiss at her side.
“I know you have experience with Jedi.” She spoke softly, looking straight ahead.
Dremire looked down at her, helmet glinting in the blinking fluorescent lights of a pazaak house to their right. His expression was masked – it was why she didn’t bother to look at him – and he kept his reply to himself.
“I have a contact around here. I can get schematics – maybe more. Once we get those, we’ll plan for our next course of action. Anything you can tell me about your dealings with people like him would be most beneficial to the success of this mission and to the balance in your accounts.”
