And So They Come

[Mariya Pyne]

N A R H A A S K A​

M I D D A Y - S T A R P O R T - L O B B Y​

​

Feth. There were no outbound freighters leaving Nar Haaska for another three days. That meant one of two things, either Eira needed to stow away on a passenger shuttle, risk being discovered and her fate ultimately decided by some hot shot captain, or she needed to find some means of coming up with the seventy credits to purchase legitimate fare. Her pockets had been well emptied simply scrounging for a last minute meal at the diner on the way to the starport. It would easily take her a weeks worth of odd jobs to come up with the credits to get off this rock.

Life as a fugitive was nothing glamorous.

The Miraluka exhaled a defeated sigh. Turning away from the illuminated travel board she peered out of one massive transparisteel window, looking upon the dusty city before her. It was a priority of hers never to linger in one spot for too long. It was a danger to her if the Seekers ever discovered her whereabouts. That was why she had no friends. Those she met were kept at arms distance, never learning the true Eira, always given aliases and nicknames. Her background stories were those of people she had met in the past, mirroring what she had heard from their lips as if it were her own. It was how she stayed alive, stayed ahead of them.

Alpheridies was so far away now; her home, everything she had ever loved and cared for, abandoned.

Finding purpose, heeding the call, listening to the ebb and flow of the Force, that was how she passed the days. That, and skimming credits off the unsuspecting by exploiting her natural talents as a Miraluka to predict events of the future, or by sensing the feelings of those around her. It was beneath her talents for sure, but when credits were scarce, and the need for shelter and food arose, one did what one needed to survive.

And now, she needed to get off this rock. She felt it. Someone was going to find her.

Eira stepped outside, the bright sun high in the sky, bearing down on the populace below. Her voice carried to those making their way up the walkway towards the lobby of the starport. This was her chance. Eight readings and she could afford her ticket out of here. "Fortunes! Predictions! Learn what will happen to you today! Ten credits!"

Shame and guilt were things one learned to live without in her situation.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

"...Aruetiise..." A voice silenced by countless others. Though standing apart from the average passerby few paid heed to a lone Mandalorian. They were a common sight in starports the galaxy over, plying their trade on worlds far from their own. Such had been what forced Teroch into the drone of Nar Haaska's populace. Promise of hefty payment for the containment of a runaway. The supposed ease of which being what convinced Teroch to so readily accept. Shortly thereafter beginning his month long hunt that culminated with his arrival on Nar Haasksa earlier this very day.

He had never tracked a Miraluka before. Contacts on Alpheridies had impressed upon him the need for precision and reflex. If the target sensed herself in danger, which was apparently a natural born gift of her kin, she would disappear again. "Aikiyc or'dinii." Teroch mused quietly. His voice pouring through his helmet softly marred by static.

The woman's pattern so far had been to hop to one world, stay just long enough to secure what supplies she needed, then jump to the next. She was also using public transit. Booking her departures on outbound vessels which made things a little difficult. Had she her own craft Teroch would be able to ping her docking number whenever she made port. Like this he had to consider all departing ships. Hopefully though, that would end here.

She was here, somewhere. All his instinct and information told him so. Close enough to port to leave in a hurry but far enough away to hide from her trackers. His eyes scanned the crowd again, looking about for any sign that might lead to her. Yet all the faces mixed together. A curt nod would signify Teroch agreeing with himself. He would need a superior vantage point to overlook the mass of citizenry. As much was thought to be needed, however, a cry from the far side of the crowd offering predictions would draw the Mandalorian's attention.

---

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Aruetiise: Foreigners

Aikiyc or'dinii: Desperate Fool

 

[Mariya Pyne]

How long had she been on the run now? Eighteen months and several days if her count was accurate. The woman had no fancy datapad, or gizmos and gadgets to her name, so she kept track through the only manner in which she could, her noggin. At first nobody paid her any mind. It was a common thing, many thought strangers on the street making boisterous claims of grandeur were little more than thieves and hustlers. While the latter was certainly true in a manner of speaking, her ability was most anything but a sham. "You there!" She shouted, taking a few steps towards a man dressed in rather expensive looking clothing, suit and and all. "Yes you!" She said again, pointing as the man looked at her confusingly. Eira reached forward and took the man's wrist to keep him from running off. "You're excited. You've been given good news very recently." The woman felt the flow of the Force, stepping into the man's future for a very brief moment. "Your child. It will be born a boy." Suddenly the man's face fell from confusion to sheer disbelief. "H--How did you know that?!"

A small smile danced across the Miraluka's face. "It is the will of the galaxy. I could tell you more, for a nominal fee." The business man who only moments ago appeared to be in quite the hurry now reached hungrily into his pockets and provided the woman with a cred-chit. Two fingers snapped up the compensation and quickly tucked away into the front pocket of the rogue's pants. "Tell me!" He practically pleaded. The nonbelievers were always the most desperate when they discovered her sincerity.

"Very well." Eira allowed herself a moment of meditation, treading through the waves of the Force was hardly a skill of minor exhaustion. It was mentally draining to continue for prolonged periods, even as adept at it as she was. "Permit me a moment." The man nodded, his arms folding as he studied the woman.

Y͙̜̖ͅo̱͈̩̱͓u͔̰͖͖͖̥ ͔̻̖̣̞̝̩͚͙r̜̮̬̜͇̣͚̗̘i̻̦̘̼̩͓ș͚̦̭͖̥k̹̺ ̖ṵ͖͖̠̟͈̥̲s̰̦̖͔̝ ͈̠̣a̘̮͈̣͎̝l̤̫͙̫̬̘̬ͅl̹͉̳̤̲̲̥ ̣̳̲̫b͎͉̜͇̖̟̬̹y̟̬̺̙͙̣̥ͅ ̲̝̝̗e̳̱̮͕̮̫̺͕x͎͔̺̙̗̙p̘̱̰͍̲̻͖o͚̯̞̣͇̠̗s̬͎̩i͔̙̰͉n̪̘̹̠͎͔̹ͅg͈͈̼͚̰̞̼̼͚ ͚̯̼̗̖͓̤ͅy̗͓̪̱̗͇̘̞ͅo͙̭̜̭̬̪̫u̺̱̝̖r̫̣͍̻̼͖̻̰͈s͓e͇̩͎̫̱l̩̖͉̻f̪͎͎̮͎!͉̠̯͇͇̲̬ ̠͉͙̳S͉̭̺̳h̟͍͍͖̬͇̗̣̟o̖w̟͈̲ ̲̹͇̹̜h̹̭̞̼̮̰̞e̤͈̞̮̗̹̥̗ͅr̤͔̬̪̯̭ͅ!͈̞͔͕​

​

While Eira began to relay small bits of information to the man about what his son's name would come to be the voices within her head wrestled her concentration, and suddenly a vision not like the one she was focused on tore her away to a much darker, grim moment in time. Her own capture and return to Alpheridies aboard a ship unfamiliar to her, by a man with no face. Held against her will, and delivered to the Sene Seekers to be forcefully rehabilitated, through any means necessary. "No...No I won't go!" Her voice was barely a whisper, so quiet even that the man before her hadn't heard her speak. "That's all. I'm sorry. I must go." Turning away the woman in the tattered clothes and ever long midnight hair began making her way into the denser crowd at the base of the starport steps. Her head dipped down, allowing the Force to guide her through the throng of bodies in her way with speed and grace. Eira needed to get someplace subtle, hidden, tucked away from the openness of the city by large. If someone was looking for her, they already knew she was here. The vision gave her no concrete information, but the Force was never wrong. The future could be changed, but it had to be steered properly. Luckily for Eira, steering her fate had been her business.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

Shoving his way through the crowd Teroch rounded on a small gathering. "Watch it!" A man would say as the Mandalorian gripped his shoulder and ripped his out of the way, only to find an vacant space. Whatever had been the center of their attention had broken away. Slipped into the crowd as Teroch made his approach. Gaze shifting back to the man whom had spoken out, brushing off his finery as if dirtied by the Mandalorian's grasp. "You." Teroch pointed. Stoic figure lurching towards the man. "Tell me who was here." There was no time to mince words or offer pleasantries. Time was short, as was the Mandalorian's tolerance for aruetii.

"Wha...?" The man slightly flinched, appalled it seemed to be spoken to so directly. "Why should I tell a rogue like you anything!?" Teroch simply took another step forward producing a small holo-projector. The image of his target's face flickering to life above it. "Was it this woman?" He asked, then watched as the man's face flushed as he once again gazed upon the fortune teller. That was all Teroch needed to confirm his suspicion. "Which way?" Hand slowly drifting to the blaster at his side. Anxiety filled the man before him. He reeked of fear and uncertainty. For a moment Teroch thought he may protest, but a weak hand gestured off into the crowd. Nodding, the Mandalorian stoically strode into the masses.

She couldn't have gotten far. The crowd might have served to conceal her movements but so too did it slow them. He was on her trail now, as close as he had ever been to her. Chances are she would seek to hunker down. That could not be allowed to happen. Taking to his initial idea for locating her, Teroch activated his jetpack. Soaring upwards to an outcropping his took a knee and once more scanned the crowd. On the inside of his helmet facial recognition software was working. Rapidly scanning faces as it sought a match for his target. "Tsikador dala." The words rising in Teroch's voice deafened by the whirring of his heads-up display acquiring it's target.

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Tsikador dala- Get ready woman.

 

[Mariya Pyne]

L̲͙̜͈i͙͈͖͙s̱̲̩̙͍t̜͇̥̣̝͙͎ͅe͉̫̺̩̤n̻̱ͅ!̙̖̘̣͉ ̜D̻̟̹͖o̱̣͚͙̯͉̬ ̘y͓͓̦̱͍̥̻ͅo̱̖̻u̫͙̤͚̰͚ ̤̺͇̖h̲̪̥̥e̦̗̰̟̱̟a͙̻̩̥r̻ ̦i̝͉͖̹̬͚t̻̱͈̪̻!̥?͔̱̘̳̱ͅ ̣̗̯͚̩͉S͈̹̗͔̲͙͇ͅh̤͇̘̩̥̗͎͈e͇̲̫̣̼̫̻̞ ͓͚̳͓̭̥ͅd̪̭o̲̮e̦͓͍̰s̗̱͎̯̥n̪̥̱̞̝̜'̫̻͍̬t̻͍͇͇̗̰ ̹͉̹h̲e̪͚͍̺̥a̰̻̹̰͍r̬͚̭̙ͅ ̫͓̭̗̹͖i̻̭̲̭t̯͔̥̱!̱̰̮ ̗̟S̹̠̘̳̟͉h̹̪e͇̼͎̤̦͚͙ ̰̝i͙̹̱͕̻̬̼s̲͎̩̼̗̯̖̙n̺̝̫̝'̬̟̺̥t̳̯̬͕̜̤̣̳ͅ ̥͙͔͎̘l̳͖̫͖ͅi̘ͅs̟̗͍̲t̫̯e͉̱̗̳n̘͚͉͙̭i͚͍n̟͇̫͈g̟̭̳̼!̰͔̟̖͍͇͍͈ ͕̝̳̰̱M̩̜̭̥̙̮̖̫a͔̬͓̤k͚̲̞̝͉̰̫̫ͅe͎̣̤̗̲͙ ͈̙̹̳̮͓̞̖h̰͖̣͓e̻ͅr̹̫̠̰̥͈̠ ̘̱̘͎̪̼l̦̯i͇̮̦s̙͚̠͚̬̬͙͉͎t͚͎̻͚͔̼̤̠͍e̗̤̻n̮͚͍!̳̳̫̜̥​

​

A burst of energy erupted into the air that caught the attention of more than a few folks on the ground. They stared upwards in awe as the Mandalorian took to the sky. Some pointed, some shouted, others ignored it altogether, content to carry on with their day, unaffected by matters that hardly involved their own. Eira was busy in her own mind, the vision she'd had forcing a grimace on her face, teeth to gnash, and a scowl to pull over her pale, dirty features. "No...Nonono.Stupid. Stupid! Stupid Seekers!" She cursed their very existence as she weaved her way through the crowd like a needle. Danger was lurking. She felt it now. It was here. Far too close now. Somehow they'd tracked her here. But how? She had covered her tracks, used aliases and false identities. Everything was so meticulous. It had to have been luck, sheer coincidence that she had been discovered. But by whom? "Schutta." Eira turned down an alley, leaning her head against the duracrete. "Okay. Okay...Starport is too dangerous. Can't stay outside. Think...Think Eira!"

S̥ẖ̘̮͍̘e̲͖̭̯͖̹̥̫̥ ̝̣h̙͉͇̭ḁs̠̙̜̩̹̞ ̫̘̤̯̹t͖o͍̣̩ͅ ͓͍̳̳h̹̳̖i̗͚̘̦̱̬͎͎ḓ͇̭e̤̞̞͉̹!͍̟ ̗̻̘W̙͈̞̹̼̻̞͓h͈̙̹͖̥y̼̠̳̝̦̥̹ ̬͎̱̳̣̫ͅͅi͇͉͉͓s̳̜̩̝̙̯̳͎ͅn̦̯͈'̞͎̣̝͇̫̫t̠̺̗͕̠͉̖̙ ̳ṣ̭͚̪͙͈h͍͎̜͈e̗̣̙̤̖̥̝ ̠͇h̺̗̤̜̣̞ͅi̘̳͕d̼̞̗̤͖͓i̱̪̺̠̰̹̜͎ͅn̠̙̝̼g̭̰̞̳͇̼̣ͅ!̖̱͎͕͔͔? ̟̞̱̲S͈̠̣̥̝h̙̳ḙ̙̝̟̤'̙͙̖̹͙͔l̤̘̳̫l̟̹̩̦̭̜͚͍ ̫͙̭̥d̼͈i͚̮͚̰̹̼̙͉͚e̮̻͉ͅ!̲͓​

​

Her hand pressed against the bridge of her nose. "Sewer." It certainly wouldn't be the first time she'd had to hide out in filth and grime. It wouldn't be the last. Through the Force she looked, shapes of the world surrounding her came, a circular cap resting atop the ground was the key to her entrance, and subsequent escape from the crowd. Temporary hiding until it was safe. Quickly the Miraluka sprinted to the other side of the alleyway. Just outside, at the edge of the street sat the durasteel cover. There was no time for cautious subtlety. Long, tightly clasped locks of hair tossed from side to side as she raced to the sewer cap, kneeling down and, with every fiber of strength within her, lifted and slid the cap with a grinding protest along the asphalt. It wasn't worth the trouble to try and cover it once again. Hopefully nobody had seen her make her move. The ladder leading down the few meters felt cold, damp, and smelled worse than she. It made her nose scrunch the moment the odor touched her sense. With a small splash her worn boots hit the ground and began to slosh as the rogue began to walk beneath the city streets.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

For the second time since arriving Teroch was forced to shove his way through the crowd. Grunts and disgusted scoffs laid upon him by most in his path. He had witnessed his target scamper off into an alley. Deciding to avoid what may have been a potential trap, he landed not far from the alley's opening. Though in retrospect he now preferred the idea of facing unknown danger to wading through the gaggle of people staring his way. Still, he made good time. Drawing his blaster from it's holster he turned the corner. Nothing. She had vanished. Teroch took a few steps forward before his foot caught the lid of the open manhole. "Mirdala dala."

Teroch's boots make a thick sloshing sound as he dropped into the sewers. It took a few moments for his helmet to kick in night-vision, thereafter illuminating the dark stinking pit he now found himself in. Sadly this was not a first for Teroch. Years ago a slippery contract had forced his to crawl through the a place just like this. Teroch had, however, hoped that time would be the last. Knowing just how long it was going to take to get the smell out of his armor. As it was now, the Mandalorian was beginning to think he should have been paid more for this. "Akay koor kyr." The mercenary finally shook his head in slight frustration before pressing on.

Chances were the clever Miraluka thought she was alone down here. Teroch surmised that if he moved slow and quite he could happen upon her. He had, however, not taken in to account how accurate her senses would be. His contacts had warned him but he brushed it off more of a formal thing than an actual warning. A slight smile spread beneath his helmet. Perhaps this would be more fun than he originally thought.

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[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Mirdala dala- Clever Woman

Akay koor kyr- Until contract's end

 

[Mariya Pyne]

Splash. Splash. Splash.

The stench was foul. The air was nearly choking Eira with each step forward. Her boots were covered in waste and filth. This was the bottom of the bottom. No grace. No dignity. No pride. This was simply about survival. On other planets she had ducked mercenaries, bounty hunters, and the like. Enough times over to learn how persistent they were. The Sene Seekers likely offered irrefutable compensation. It was the only way she could imagine anyone would be willing enough to traipse through sewers after a runaway. Navigating through the confined space was difficult enough with the questionable water beneath her feet, but adding the limited height as well, making it impossible to stand up fully slowed her even further. Reaching outward Eira's arms could reach either side of the slick, curved stone walls.

Space was cramped.

L̙͇̹̯̦͚i̳͕͇̠̻s͙t̙e̩͍͉͙̖̬n̞̣̙̗͇ͅ ̜ͅto̞͚̖̙̫ t͖͖̥̳̮͓̭h̬͖̖̳͖̬͍e̩͙͕̫ ͔͖̰̰͖̜̤e͓̖̬̹̮c̖̫̰̤ͅh̺o̩̦̙ͅ!̟ ̻͍̹̤L͔̥͈̜̟͚ͅi̠̟̬͖͚s̺̙̼͚t̞̣͎̪̖͔e͖̫̖n̻̺̼͈!̮̥̠̞̺̖̪ ̟̖̬̯̹̣L̳̤̺͕i͈̮̩s̝̻͉̮t͙̲̙̻͎̻̭e͚͍̺̦̭ͅͅn̳̺ ̱̠̥͖͖t̟o̥̠̬͇̞͇̪ ͚̟͉̼ịt̮!​

​

At first Eira had believed the splashing she heard was simply a brief echo. It wasn't until the voice in her mind warned her to listen that she stopped, only to hear the splashing continue. Her suspicions were confirmed then, someone was undeniably tracking and pursuing her. She felt her breath escape her in a wave of panic, quickly falling into a half sprint, still hindered by the lack of space to properly run. Ahead there was a small intersection, likely where several routes connected to allow ease of access by the city's maintenance workers. There would be a ladder there for sure, but would there be time enough to climb it and push aside the cover? Doing so would cost her time, but perhaps she could seal it before the person reached her, further delaying them.

It was decided then, up the ladder she would go, attempting to close off the exit beneath her.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

Splash. Splash. Splash.

The distant sound of footsteps near mirroring his own. Teroch had been following just out of eyesight through the winding cramped corridors of Nar Haaska's sewer system. Attempting to close the gap between himself and the target would have undoubtedly led to disaster given the environment. So instead he simply followed. More grateful with each step that his helmet kept at bay what he imagined to be the most foul stench ever conceived. For braving this place he had to offer his prey a mite of respect, most surely would have preferred capture. A wry grin spread across Teroch's face as he began to revel in the unexpected challenge of this hunt.

Splash.

Footsteps ceased. Teroch came to a halt. Crouched there in the confining space of the sewer tunnels he listened. Only silence came. "Haar'chak!" The Mandalorian offered in soft curse before throwing stealth to the side and rushing forward. There could be just two reasons why the footsteps had stopped. Either the woman had finally given out, or she had escaped. Either made haste the prudent choice, prompting Teroch to draw his blaster as he rounded the corner. Sights leveled and finger hovering over the trigger. The intersection was empty. Teroch's eyes flashed as dim light reflected off the surface ladder. "Ogir!" Called Teroch, wading his way through the grime. "Bic jaon dala!" His blaster now aimed up the ladder.

---

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[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Haar'chak- Damn it

Ogir- There

Bic jaon dala- It's over woman

 

[Mariya Pyne]

[SIZE=medium]T̪̙o̖̺͔ͅo͚̩̰̤ ͈̠̮͚l͕̻a͔̻̦̮͔̹t̻e!̣͎̲͍̺ ̜͔̬̼̩̘͉I̝͔t̠̻̞̰̯̻'͉s ̹̥̩̻t̺̦͇o͖̭̯o̜̣̯̜͙̪ ̠la̭te̥͔̟̜̖͚̜!̹̦̠͇ ͚͔̥̣̟̞S̱h̙͔̮eͅ's ̩͖̠t͕͕̖͙̥͉̖o̩͍o̬̦͖̟͎ ̞̰͓̝l͖ate̟̣̲̝͈̳̬!̯̩͔̝̭̫ ̗͓͓Ș̜̱h̝͚e w̹͉̠͔̣̯o̫̯̰n̮̻t̘̟̙ͅ ̙̭̲g̺̼͇̫̥̼̘et ͖͉͚a̻͖͙̦̩wa͈̳̦͔̘y͎͖! ͕̯͙S̻h̜̹ͅe͇͕̟͉̩̟͚ ̼͈̱͓͚̮w̞͉̯̮̝̠͉o̳n͕̪t̜̩̝̬̰,̹̮̟͕̟ ̮sh̺e͉͙ ̞̘͖͍̹͚w̮̼͉̻͙̙o̱̙̣̘͇nṭ̪̰̲̼!̮̞̰̺̮̞[/SIZE]​

​

Eira pressed both hands against the circular grate above her head, carefully balancing herself on the dangerously thin bars that her filth slicked boots stood upon. It was certainly more work than it had been to get into the sewer, that much was certain. She could hear the footsteps getting nearer and nearer as her pursuer splashed through the same muck she had moments prior. A panicked groan escaped her as she heaved against the cap. Grinding metal rang out like an echo chamber around her. Small splinters of light pierced the darkness and into the tunnel, though for Eira all she sensed was the object moving closer to her freedom. Now she could hear his voice as he spoke to himself, the modulated tone and language assuredly Mandalorian. How fitting. Her expression soured, forming a scowl as she continued her efforts more frantically though it was already too late.

The rogue froze, hearing his final words. She could sense the blaster in his hand, his itchy gloved finger gently resting against the cold durasteel trigger just waiting, hoping she would make some kind of effort to further escape or to bring harm to him. Unlike other bounties in this man's career, Eira wasn't exactly a threat in the grand scheme of things. At least, not in a traditional sense. The girl wasn't familiar with blasters, wasn't a brawler, or a sword fighter, wasn't a Jedi or Sith. And while she could bend the Force in ways to her will, she was no witch, like those of Dathomir, nor sorceress. The Mandalorian had every advantage now, and Eira had nowhere to go. Even if she managed to slide the cap the remainder of the way, he could shoot her dead well before she managed to take one step further up the ladder.

[SIZE=medium]K̟͍̠i̻̪͎l͎l̲̝͖͉̖̻͉ ͚h̻̞ḭ̥̼̝̻m͕̬̦.̼̜ K̬il̮͓͍l̗̟͚̦ ͉h̫̼̝̭͉ͅi̙̖̙̠̙m̯̖̬̥̬̻̖!̘̤͉ L̟͎͈̯e̜̻̜̲ṯ̬̟͖ͅ ̩̦̬̦͍u̞̦̰̥̝̯̦s̜̼̼̹̳͚̜ ̞̰̞͔͓̠k̞i͍̰̥͎̟̮͍l̹͉̗̜͈l̖̺̯͕̥̻̩ ̥hi͇̮̱̟̹m̯̭̬͕͚͖̥!̙̟̳͍͔ ̯̦̼̰̤̪C͉̭̯̤̰ho̹͔̲̭̫ͅke͇͙͚͖̭̤̬ ̭h͈̳i̖̟̭s̮̜͖̼̮ ̫̹͓̮̦l̺̬̞̩̳̦̱i̯͖͚̹f̤͇͓̤͉e͓̠͇ ̟͖͔e͔s̘͇̣ͅs̟̦͔͙̞e͖̱̜̦͓͍ͅn̜̘͚̳͈c̳͚͈̹̮̬e͇̜̝͚!̹̼ D̗̺͈̫̮ev̳͍̺o̞u̙͕̤r̼͚ ̖̹̬̬̥͍̫hi͈m̜̻͚̜͓̰̥!͚̯͚͙ͅ[/SIZE]​

Suddenly a terrible pain flooded her head, forcing her cheeks to raise, brows to lower. Her lips pulled back, revealing a well cared for set of teeth, despite her ragged appearance and smell. An audible hiss echoed across the thin cylindrical wall around the ladder. Eira remained still, speaking quietly, though the fear in her voice was hardly masked. "The Seekers sent you -- To kill me, or to return me. Plenty of credits for such a job. You know I've been hiding a long time. You followed me from Coruscant to Nar Shaddaa, and from Nar Shaddaa to here. You are the faceless man I've seen in my visions." Her voice faded, lingering in silence for a breath though still she remained. "I'm sure they warned you that I'm dangerous, else I feel you may not have drawn your blaster on an unarmed, blind woman. Surely your people have some moral code. I would ask you to please let me go, to abandon this job, that I'm guilty of no crime other than existence. Though as you formulate your thoughts I've already seen your words. We both know what you're going to do. But I won't go back."

The Miraluka forced all of the weight and energy from her lower half upwards, lifting the durasteel cover off of the sewer itself, pouring vast rays of daylight into the hole. Without a moment of hesitation Eira scrambled to climb free and clear of the sewer, and the Mandalorian just below her.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

There was a sense of pride in her words. Teroch had heard the begging before, more times now than he could recall, but not in this manner. She did not grovel nor plead, almost demanding that he let her go. A smile curled beneath his helmet once more, but despite that he could not let simply vanish again. She was right Teroch had a code of honor, a set of rules that he lived by. Completing a contract once he had accepted it being chiefest among them. His grip tightened around the blaster. "You did well..." The Mandalorian would say as he looked up at the woman. "...but now it's over." The hue of his helmet's night-vision painting all in a series of greens. Teroch lurched forward, free hand stretching towards his target, but he stopped. The bright light pouring in from above temporarily blinding him, his helmet already working to auto-adjust. "Or'dinii!" He called after her.

Beeyow. Beeyow.

He fired the blaster twice. The first making the familiar sound of blaster bolt cutting through stone, the other disappearing upwards through the open manhole. Teroch could finally see again. She was gone again. Strange how often this same scenario seemed to play out. Teroch would get close enough to grab her, then she'd slip away at the last moment. He had chalked all the past times up to her sensing ability. His contacts had warned him about as much. However, this slip up was on him. He let her run her mouth, stall for time. Rookie mistake by anyone's measure. One he would not make again. Teroch's mind began to churn as he ascended the ladder and stumbled up into the open street. He had been ordered to take her alive and that's it. A blaster bolt to the leg wouldn't lower the price on her, not in the slightest.

---

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Or'dinii- Fool

 

[Mariya Pyne]

A bright flash and a sharp crack rang through the air as the shot from the bounty hunter's blaster raced towards its mark, destined for one renegade Luka Sene. Before she clambered her way out of the rather tight hole separating the sewer from the street above a searing hot pain suddenly shot through her right arm, catching just above the elbow and eliciting a sharp screech of agony before Eira finally managed to escape the tunnel below. Her uninjured hand reached over, clutching the wound as she ran around the first corner she came to and thrust her weight against a pair of doors that led into a rather seedy looking establishment -- Loud music and sultry dancers, crooked lawmen surrounded by those who paid their bribes.

Fortunately for her, the place was well packed and dimly lit. Those without the gift of Force Sight would have difficulty noticing that she had been shot, or really anything about her. Eira pushed through yet another sea of crowd, masking her injury as best as she could, stopping to speak with nobody as she shouldered her way past person after person towards the far rear of the building. An emergency exit was present, the neon sign hanging high above. Passing another patron that was too drunk to pay any attention to her she snapped up the woman's jacket, quickly pulling it over herself and lifting the hood to obscure the majority of her face. The woman sat by the emergency door, hoping for the time being she had lost the mercenary. Her arm felt as if it were on fire. She needed a medical droid, but for now it was best to stay put.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

Teroch knelt above the manhole, gloved finger lightly touching the slight drop wetting the ground. They had been harried shots, fast and wild. Meant more to scare than harm. He had not expected one to make contact. Yet the proof he had now dotted the street ever so gently. "...Haar'chak..." The Mandalorian mumble as he lifted himself up and scanned the area. He needed her alive. Judging by the fact that she was not lying dead in the street Teroch assumed she was delivered an artificial wound. Still, it was hard to tell. He needed to find her quick, before she bled out in some back alley. "Vaii gar slanar?" His eyes casting upon both sides of the street and he rounded the corner. There was no blood trail, a good sign for her health, but it made tracking a mite harder.

Then he saw it. A pair of double doors just around the corner from the manhole. A small streak of blood. Teroch approach, running his finger across it. "Su piryc." Teroch then pushed himself inside. The noise immediatley filling his helmet. If there was ever a place to lose a tail this would be it. A snarl spread over the Mandalorians face. There was nothing he disliked more than a cantina, drunks of degenerates of all races gathered in one place. The lights were low, smoke filled the air like dense fog, the loud music forced the patrons to speak in even louder voices. Teroch peered through gaps in the crowd trying to but to no avail. Time was of the essence, knowing time may well be ticking for his target. Teroch looked solemnly at the floor before drawing his blaster.

Beeyow. Beeyow. Beeyow.

Pieces of the ceiling falling to the floor in front of him. "I'm looking for an injured woman!" The cantina fell silent, and all eyes fell to Teroch.

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Haar'chak- Damn it

Vaii gar slanar- Where did you go

Su piryc- Still wet

 

[Mariya Pyne]

The music stopped. The people froze. Hands dropped to holsters in reflex of the shots fired. Eyes fell on the Mandalorian, others cowered, hiding behind pillars, tables, and the bar counter. Eira gently picked up a heavy glass tray used for the collection of deathstick and cigarra ash. It wasn't much in the way of defense, but it weighed enough to hopefully ring her pursuer's head a bit if he managed to lay hands on her. The emergency door was still only a few feet away, more than enough time for her to make a quick dash, though where it led to and where she would go thereafter was more the problem than actually reaching the door itself. Judging by his approach thus far, whoever this man was didn't seem to have much in the way of worry when it came to shooting anyone that might be in his way. Hell, he'd already shot her. The searing burn in her arm a constant reminder that she needed to be rid of him sooner rather than later.

Patrons looked to one another, searching for the person they could offer up to the crazed man simply so they could get back to their drinking and debauchery. The jacket served well enough to conceal her wound, though the blood would begin to stain and seep through, leaving the table stained beneath where the arm rested. Her incredibly long, dark, dreadlocked hair lingered behind her back as she sat, face covered beneath the hood. Her teeth sank into the bottom of her lip in furious debate with herself over what to do now.

Several patrons turned to her, whispering among themselves. Eira remained seated for the time being, taking on the look of someone that had passed out where she sat. Perhaps the man would pass her without notice, or perhaps not. In which case, it was a good thing that heavy glass tray was tucked away. Quietly she prayed to Ashla that she might survive this ordeal. Within her mind she recited a number of chants learned back on Alpheridies, Ashla, hear my cry. Often times the voices in her head were the only source of comfort she found in the vast galaxy, even when they were those she didn't wish to hear. No matter what awful thing they urged her to do, they always kept her alive.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

All was quiet in the cantina save for the hard thud of booted footfalls. Slowly Teroch made his way through the building, stare falling to any that looked suspicious. Most kept their gaze fixed upon the Mandalorian and the blaster gripped tightly in his hand. Others whispered among themselves, trying to gauge the situation and see if they could profit from it. Those that were left were either passed out drunk or too high to remember where they even were. If the target were here she had was deftly concealing herself. Another wave of amusement and ire rose through the Mandalorian as he searched. Half expecting her to jump out and scramble away at any second, like she had so many times already.

Teroch stopped. Glaring down at a hooded figure slumped over a table. A gloved hand went to the hood, grasping it tightly, before yanking it off with a strength that caused the fabric to tear. "The karking feth are you doing ya bastard!" The old man screamed as his hands went to his neck and rubbed it. Teroch let the ripped hood drop from his hand and simply kept walking, the old drunk still cursing behind him. There were too many people to search them one by one. As soon as his attention went lax Teroch knew she would slip away again. A sick feeling went through the Mandalorian's stomach as he reached for the only idea that could help him in a place such as this.

In Teroch's hand the holo-projector once again emitted the image of his target. The patron's gazed upon it with disinterest and annoyance, at least they did at first. That was until Teroch spoke: "One-thousand credits to the first person that finds her."

---

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

 

[Mariya Pyne]

A deep scowl set on the Miraluka the moment the Mandalorian spoke. 1,000 credits?! That was more than she earned in two months! Immediately the dregs of the cantina turned on one another, pulling at clothing and searching one another for the one who appeared in the projector. Only seconds would remain before the woman was discovered now. She could still run for the exit, potentially use a distraction in the heated search to make it out of the emergency door. It might buy her a few seconds before anyone other than the Mandalorian discovered the ruse. If nothing else it would prove one more crowd he had to finagle his way through. Still clutching the concealed tray Eira grit her teeth and made a run for it. Her senses weaved her between several bodies, before throwing her weight against the doorway, setting off the incredibly loud alarm as it creaked open just a few inches. A trail of thick black hair would nearly catch as the door slammed shut behind her, leading the woman out into yet another alleyway. One side was a dead end, the other led to the streets.

Yet there was one almost cliche place to hide. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't glamorous, and it wasn't the most clever thing she'd ever done, but there wasn't too many other options. The dumpster.

Eira used what little time she had, sliding the small door on the side of the durasteel container open before climbing in and once more closing the sliding door. Her vision was a gift in times like this, as she could essentially see through the container, and the Mandalorian that would shortly follow. This was more or less her final means of hiding herself from the man. Growing tired, her arm ached something fierce, and she was beginning to lose a measure of blood that would be considered dangerous.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

Sirens wailed throughout the cantina. "Thar she goes!" Yelled one of the drunks, as he and a gaggle of others scramble after the woman. Teroch's eyes flicked to the door as men began to fight for the right to go through first. She wasn't getting back through this way, that was for sure. Turning on his heel the Mandalorian briskly moved back towards the front entrance. Pushing the double doors open before rounding the corner and heading to the mouth of the alley. Dim light cast itself down upon the small stretch of concrete and steel, abruptly stopping around a hundred yards in. The cantina door burst open and a few of the patron's finally managed to stumble out into the darkness.

"Whar she get to!?" The same man as earlier now stood at the head of a rag-tag rabble. A thousand credits could go a long way for a group like that, but it was nothing compared to the price on the girl's head. As long as they didn't catch wind of just how valuable she was everything would be alright. Their searching had reaffirmed Teroch's belief she would not be ducking back in to the cantina. So the problem now lay in where she was now. The steel tips of the Mandalorian's boots clicked and echoed off the walls of the alley as he walked inward. He stopped near the door and the wannabe hunters, eyes glancing over the door and ground. No blood.

Teroch turned and marched back towards the street. The others from the cantina following close behind. "Don't yar worry mister. We can find har." The man grinned a crooked smile before turning towards his compatriots and barking his orders. "She got out the alley! Spread out and find har!" With that the men began to pour into the streets while Teroch did his best to ignore their presence. The Mandalorian trying to conceive any possible means of locating his prey.

At the back of the alley a drunk lingered, finishing off a bottle of cheap swill. "I'ma coming boss, jeez!" He downed the last of the liquid while the man in charge looked back at him in ire. "Well hurry it up!" Which cause the drunk to wave a hand dismissively. "Let me just chunk this in the trash." He spoke, before pulling open the lid to the dumpster.

---

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

 

[Mariya Pyne]

The woman held her breath, both for the sake of making less noise as well as not breathing in the fumes of the filthy rubbish she surrounded herself with. It was foul beyond comprehension. Weeks worth of lingering, hot, filth from a comparatively dirty establishment could make the strongest stomach turn upside down. From behind the durasteel Eira watched as more than a dozen drunkards poured out into the alley, all searching for her. Her vision granted her the ability to watch each one as they moved about, notably the Mandalorian as he entered from the opposite end of the street, inspecting the area as he approached the door she had fled through only moments priors.

He was looking for a trail to follow.

One by one the others dispersed into the streets of Nar Haaska in search of the key to their 1,000 credit fortune of which they would likely spend where they'd just deserted. Simple people had simple tastes. Thankfully none of them had been too terribly bright in searching everywhere for her. Then again, not many might choose to hide themselves in putrid refuse either. Nearly in the clear, save for the Mandalorian, one of the patrons needed to toss out his empty container, and thus reached for the lid of the dumpster. Eira froze, leaning down as best she could and again sucking in a breath to hold while making as little noise as possible. Shifting too much would sound out of place, but being spotted was equally damning.

Hopefully nobody would hear, or see her inside.

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

The drunk stopped in his tracks and starred into the dumpster, eyes squinting furiously into the darkness at the small injured woman wedged amidst the garbage. "...Ugh..." He said shaking his head and dropping the bottle into the bin. "I gotta lay of the cheap stuff." Before hobbling down the alley towards the street after his companions. "Wait for me fellas!" He cried after them. Teroch tried to ignore him. He mind was still reeling with possibilities. The patrons of the cantina would help him cover more ground for sure, but drunks and degenerates could rarely be trusted. Teroch shook his head at the prospect of enlisting their aide further. They had done enough in flushing the target out of the cantina, better if he moved alone now.

Teroch stepped into the street behind them just in time to see the impromptu leader to the patrons grabbing the collar of the drunk. "Come on Pollock! Get yar head on straight! How's we supposed to get those creds if you ain't pilling yar weight!" A furious swipe of knuckles then rapped across Pollock's head. "No-...now come on! I'ma doing my best. My eyes is just playing tricks on me is all. Making me stumble and such." Pollock complained. "I swear that old bastard barkeep is lacing his drinks with spice or something. I even saw a girl stuffed in the trash can!" The leader of the drunks frowning furiously at Pollock's excuses gave him another swipe across the head and a swift boot to the rear. The two then scampered off towards the rest of the drunks.

Meanwhile Teroch had frozen in his tracks. Surely it had not been that simple. The woman that had led him on a chase across multiple planets. The woman that had dove in to sewers and ducked her was through crowds. That woman was surely not hiding in a dumpster, was she? Teroch wheeled around on his heel quickly running back the the mouth of the alley. Yet again drawing his blaster, and turning the corner.

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

 

[Mariya Pyne]

Eira remained entirely statuesque until the fool dropped his hand away from the lid of the container, hurrying himself towards the street with Teroch shortly behind. She could feel her heart pounding so heavily that the vein in her head was practically throbbing its way out of her skin. When all of the bodies had rounded the corner and were out of view the woman allowed herself a single deep breath, complete with garbage accents to accost her senses. The Miraluka nearly choked on the breath she drew, stifling the cough as best she could. Raising both hands above her the lid fell backward, gently leaning against the duracrete wall behind it. Carefully Eira crawled halfway over the lip of the metal container, balancing herself on her torso and single good arm.

Groaning from the effort, her weight fell to the outer side and she slipped free of the refuse taken as cover. Ratty old boots hit the pavement below, and she gave herself a quick pat down, shaking free some of the clinging rubbish that trailed her to freedom. It wasn't until she lifted her head once more that she came to find her pursuer seemed to have a change of heart. Around the corner he came once more, drawing his weapon in the same breath. Deathly panic set in once again, knowing she was still in grave danger, only this time there was nowhere to run.

The cantina was now all but empty, nowhere to hide. The alleyway was now blocked by the large Mandalorian, Behind her was a dead end. The cantina had a rooftop, but for all the good that would do, the bounty hunter had a jetpack. There was nowhere left to go now. Slowly she backed up towards the wall at the far end of the alley, hand still concealing the heavy tray she took from inside. Her only chance at freedom now was to hope that armor covering his head wasn't as tough as it looked.

"I give up!" She shouted rather helplessly. "Please, don't shoot me!"

[member="Teroch Werda"]

 

[Teroch Werda]

Surrender? Teroch had not thought this was a viable option for the woman whom had ran so hard. He kept the blaster leveled at her, slowly walking towards his prey. The steel tips of his boots clicking with each step, growing louder as he ventured further in to the alley. Teroch looked her over. Tired, filthy, blood beginning to show through her jacket. She had been such a formidable opponent at the outset of this hunt, such a shame to see her like this now. Yet that was the business. Teroch was paid to chase people. Thus he did so, until he caught them or they tired too greatly of the chase. Just as it appeared the Miraluka had finally done.

The Mandalorian stopped a few yards away. "Coat, off." His voice was harsh and unwavering. His hand motioning the blaster a bit after he spoke. "Gar shupur. Tion'solet aaray?" He spoke in Mando'a before repeating in basic. "How bad is your wound?" From the looks of things it appeared to just be a flesh wound, but one could never tell. He needed to get her back to his ship to treat it, among other things. Hopefully the good people of Alpheridies would not dock his pain for something as small as this. "We need to move. It's time you went back home."

---

---

[member="Eira Sjona"]

Spoiler: Translations

Gar shupur. Tion'solet aaray- Your wound. How much pain?