Another Day, Another Job

[Derriphan]

Nar Shaddaa - In front of the Howling Hellhole Cantina

Another day, another job. Derriphan took a last drag on his cigarette before flicking the remains away. He didn't even liked the things, but on his last contract he had collected a few packs from the bodies of his targets, and as a resourceful man he came to the decision that it was better to take them, then to have them go to waste on some rotting corpses.

Fine grey smoke danced around his face, before he raised his right to pull his ski mask up to cover his mouth and nose, leaving only his blue eyes and small glimpse of his blonde hair to been seen in the dim light of the alley. On paper his task had sounded simple, find the missing medical supplies and bring them back to the guy that was paying him to do so. He had already forgot the name of the ugly, slimly Hutt, but it wasn't important right now anyway.

The scum of the smuggler moon had proven to be tight lipped, even more so then normally. Even holding his shotgun in a face or two hadn't done him much good, and the last clue he had left was some guy he had never heard of. According to rumors he had been the supervisor of the warehouse that had been hit, and was a known regular in the rundown bar waiting in front of him. With a deep sigh he reached for the shotgun on his back and stepped inside.
-------------------------------------
"Spit it out already, I don't have all day to watch you wet your pants."

The weapon that was responsible for the spilled drink dripping onto the clothes of the man on the other side rested on the table as a less then subtle threat. It didn't took any sort of social awareness to know that the nearly crying supervisor wasn't like the people he worked for, but just scum lucky enough to tell other scum what to do. Derriphan coldly rolled his eyes, before slightly pushing the weapon closer to the chest of the man.

"Alright, just put that thing away. There was one worker, Sam Cook. He didn't show up for work the week the warehouse was robbed, but he really isn't the type for such a thing."

Derriphan made no attempt to move the weapon and only continued to roll his eyes in apathy. Then he opened his mouth below the mask, asking a single word question and stressing it so that there was no confusion about his intentions should the other refuse to answer.

"Address?"

The man looked at him again, clearly in fear before reaching for his datapad. He pushed the small device over to the enforcer, who picked it up with his free left to review the information. It lead towards a small flat even deeper down in the endless filthy gutters of the smuggler moon. For the first time something akin to satisfaction rolled over the mercenary as he pocketed the datapad with a slight nod. He had what he came for, now it was time to see what this Mr. Cook had to say.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

What kind of monster stole from a charitable organization?

Refugee Health Organization, or simply the RHO, had called upon her services in order to help track down a shipment of medical supplies which had been intercepted on its way to the Refugee Sector, a region of Nar Shaddaa which was woefully underprivileged. Given the general state of the Smuggler's Moon it was easy to see how such had happened, but it didn't make Mysa any less frustrated. It would have been one thing if it had been a petty thief, someone down on their luck, but all of the evidence had indicated that whoever was responsible was part of a larger team. It was simply too well executed.

Likely just a heist to make credits. Medical supplies in these parts were worth an arm and a leg.

The trail had led her on a wild goose chase across Nar Shaddaa, out of the lower sectors, up through the promenade, down into the warehouse district, where it went cold for a time. Keen as her senses were - after years of honing them - she had picked up on the anxiety of some of the workers who muttered among themselves about a missing batch of supplies. It hadn't taken her too long to pick that trail right back up, all without once having to so much as speak to the workers.

Mysa had been hunting corruption across the Galaxy for years now, tracing something on one world was childsplay at this point.

So it was that she inevitable found herself within one of the grimy districts that was made up of mostly rundown residential buildings. The air was heavy, thick with smog from the nearby factories, and for a girl who was used to the pure air of Midvinter it was actually rather difficult to breathe in. She could hear a very slight rasp to every third or so breath, which concerned her. But not as much as getting the supplies.

There were so many people relying on the services RHO provided.

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

There was no concern in Derriphan's face as he quietly passed by the almost lifeless, empty eyes of those unfortunate enough to waste away down here. Pity was something he couldn't afford, in the most literal sense as his own home wasn't any less dirty than theirs. His steps simply carried him through the dark and murky corridors of the structure amidst the slums, towards the number he had read on the datapad.

When he finally came to a stop in front of the right door, his right had already stretched out to ring, only to find a burned out connection of cables in place of a contact terminal. With a slight sigh he raised his already outstretched hand and hammered it against the frail door two times, the metal slightly bouncing back and forth under the pressure.

"Mr. Cook, open up. Now."

He made sure to make his voice sound as threatening as ever, leaving not a trace of doubt that the man on the other side would do better by opening up. When no answer followed for over a minute, the sigh from before repeated only this time as an audible, open sign of frustration. His hand banged at the door a third time, then the young mercenary took a step back and reached for the weapon on his back.

"Mr. Cook, this is your last warning. Open up or I'll be forced to kick in the door, and I'm surly not gonna pay for the damage."

In a swift motion Derriphan audibly reloaded his weapon. He didn't needed to, but the sound would hopefully draw out anyone hiding behind the door who clearly wasn't to impressed by his words alone.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

As she came upon the location her intelligence had led her to, she became all too aware of a raised voice and the sound of someone pounding on a door.

That... Had to hurt. Most doors in these parts were made of durasteel, not something you wanted to hit at full force. Still that wasn't really what bothered her, the issue was that whoever it was happened to be stood outside of the door she also needed access to. Or more, the person held within it.

And they were pissed.

Slowly moving up the steps, she touched the back of her belt where her lightsaber lay just to make sure it was present, and to draw from it a little strength, stopping a few feet from the man who had just loaded the weapon in his grasp.

"Easy, there," she said, quietly and respectfully enough - which wasn't something that was common in these parts - as she drew upon the Force which enveloped all things in hopes of utilizing it should the situation turn south, "Can you blame a man for wanting to keep his family safe?"

She could sense a couple of smaller presences within the apartment, after all. Had someone come knocking on her door when her brothers were inside, Mysa would have also avoided answering. Especially if they were promising violence.

"Why don't you put the weapon down..."

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

The head of the young mercenary turned towards the newcomer, and the weapon in his hands followed suit, aiming directly at her chest. From between the gap in his ski mask two vibrant blue eyes starred at her, and if she looked close enough there would be a glance of something strange in them, something hidden and imprisoned longing to escape at the first twitch of violence.

"Why don't you shut up and let me do my job?"

It was hard to find much else then spite in Derriphan's voice, besides a faint glimpse of confusion about her sudden appearance. He hadn't planned for being interrupted, and the woman didn't looked like the general scum he had learned to deal with. His expression and the prefect calm with which the shotgun rested in his hands made it clear that he had no qualms about firing the weapon at a total stranger on little more then a whim.

"He and his family won't be safe until he tells me what I need to know. I will make sure of that."

He made sure to say it loud enough to not only address the woman but also the man behind the door. While her appearance was unexpected, her words had at least offered him a new angle to work with. Threatening him hadn't done anything, but directing these threats at his loved ones was likely to do the job for him. As prove of his thought he picked up on a muffled shriek from inside the apartment, followed by the sound of multiple archaic mechanical locks slowly being unlocked.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

"I won't ask you again."

Her eyes remained on the man with the weapon, yet she allowed her senses to continue fanning out around the compound. It was something she naturally did at all moments of the day, she had become so entwined with that aspect of the Force that it was an integral part of her being by now. Of course she was mostly concerned with what lay within the apartment, though it did not help to ensure Mr-Trigger Happy didn't have any friends lurking around.

"No harm will come to them so long as I stand here, I can assure you that. Drop the weapon, and maybe he'll see sense and listen without the need for bloodshed."

The door was being opened as she spoke, and thus she forced herself into high alert. Monitoring the stranger before her, and the doorway itself, for any signs of action. This was not her first rodeo, she'd fought men far worse than he who stood before her now.

"We are both here for the same reason," It was as good a guess as any, why else would a bruiser be pounding at the door of a nobody, "but there are better ways to get the answers you seek than through violence."

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

"Never seen a problem my shotgun couldn't solve. That includes you."

Derriphan had been breed for war, but training and conditioning were no replacement for experience and common sense. The woman didn't looked like much compared to the thugs he had put down with ease, which in his mind meant that this wouldn't even be worth it to be called a fight. The sounds from behind the door had stopped, as the man behind it sensed an opportunity to evade the barrel of the Hutt enforcer's weapon.

"Listen Lady, I don't know you nor do I care why you're here. Just walk away and I won't splatter your brain on the floor."

The young warrior hadn't lowered his weapon, not even moved since she had began talking. Now he took a slow step back, keeping the weapon locked on her at any point. To him this looked like an easy mark, especially due to the narrow nature of the corridor. He wouldn't even have to aim, the scatter of his weapon would do that for him. Like before he loudly reloaded the shotgun, the dormant madness in his eyes ready to be released at any second, while his muffled voice came from below the mask with utter confidence.

"Last chance. Don't do anything your corpse can't regret."

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

He wasn't going to back down.

Oddly enough, her response to that was to simply smile. There was a certain confidence which wavered just beneath the surface if one knew how to look for it, not something she would exude or bring to the light just a steady belief in oneself and ones values.

She did not shy away when he cocked the weapon, did not so much as glance down at the shotgun, instead she kept her eyes trained on his as he stepped back. The longer he focused on her, the more time the man inside had to formulate a plan. At the very least hide the little ones. They had no part in this.

With a very subtle exertion of the Force she focused on the door and applied enough pressure to keep it closed. Just in case he tried to open it, or the man on the other side did. While she was here for information herself containing the shipment, that did not mean she was going to risk the life of a man and his children to extract it. That was wrong, it would cause more harm than good.

"You can try," she finally said, with a loose shrug, mostly referring to his comment of splattering her brains, "though that will just draw more attention to you."

There was a madness within him, visible within his uncovered eyes. By contrast Mysa stood there in utter serenity, enveloped by the Force which was working to keep her clear and calm of mind. Every movement was analyzed, every motion from within the apartment. At this point she would honestly rather risk losing her trail, and keeping the man and his family alive, than let harm come to them if it meant getting the shipment.

Supplies could be replaced. Death was final.

For most, at least.

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

The answer to her words was a laugh, an ugly sound that had more in common with disgust then amusement. Here in the slums no one cared for anything, and one more or less dead meant nothing. He had probably heard at least on gunshot on his way up, and he had his doubts that anyone would come looking if he would add in a second one.

"The attention of who? Lady down here nobody cares if you, me or the guy behind the door and his filthy family rot in the dirt."

His masked face didn't show, but her smile had left a slight dent in his confidence, as had her open lack of fear towards the weapon in his hands. Still the rage in his blood boiled more with each of her words and with every of his own spiteful answers, commanding him to go through with his initial plan of splattering her brain on the floor. The silence of her death would hopefully make it turn cold again.

Without a further warning he pulled the trigger, dispersing a wide spread shrapnel load in her general direction. The madness had now broken through, and the blue of his eyes was traversed by fine yellow cracks that seemed to glow. While he wasn't even aware of it himself, the dark side was fueling him, feeding upon his confusion, frustration and rage and pushing his body and mind to spill blood without sense or purpose like his creators had taught him to.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

She didn't grace his response with words; mostly she had been calling his bluff where the threat of being discovered by more than just she was concerned, no sense in adding more fluff to an already debunked white lie. No. She kept her eyes on him and the moment the choice was made in his mind to follow through with his decision she allowed the Force which she had been drawing upon to finally wash over her body.

As the various slugs raced through the air toward her somewhat of a dusty shroud was likewise kicked up. It lay between them, keeping them from one another's sights until a few moments after the clip had been emptied or the man decided to release the trigger. Various clinks could be heard as the empty rounds hit the ground, shells that exuded a certain heat that could be sensed if you paid enough attention.

Yet as the dust cloud began to disperse, there the woman stood. One hand had been raised, and a very subtle shimmer encompassed her body.

"I did warn you," she whispered, a slight amount of remorse in her tone.

With a flick of her wrist she drew her attention away from the barrier which had served its purpose and instead tossed up the various empty rounds from the ground toward him, aiming for the exposed section of his face. Though the speed at which they were launched would not cause him any inherent damage, maybe a slight bit of redness at most, it was the heat itself she was hoping to make use of.

Naturally, due to all of the above, she had released her hold on the door. But at this point if the man inside hadn't already been climbing out of one of the back windows he had missed an opportunity...

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

"What?"

The voice of the young clone, while certainty not beautiful before, had turned into something vile and repulsive that forcefully crawled out of his throat. His expression on the other hand was that of complete confusion, even if the infernally burning anger tried to creep back into his face. He hadn't been attacked so far, and yet he stood there simply stunned by what had just happened, his head trying to figure out the what and how of the woman's defense.

When the remains of his shots were thrown back at him, Derriphan didn't even managed to gasp before the burning metal touched his face. Through sheer luck none of the projectiles meet his face in a way that would cause lasting damages to his eyesight, but he still had to close his lids to protect his eyes as he aimlessly stumbled backwards. The pain began to add up into the maelstrom inside of him, and it felt like his flesh was about to burst.

He could feel his balance fading, and as his feet finally gave way to his fall towards the ground a broken scream cracked through the air. In his descend he dropped the weapon, his left stretching out to release a single flash of indigo lightning, aimed at nothing in particular due to his closed eyes. Then his head reached the ground, and the chilly numbness of his body suffocated the flame inside of him. When he painfully opened his eyes they had returned to blue, and for the first time in his barley a few months long life he felt what the word shame meant.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

His confusion was palpable.

Truth be told, Mysa was not one who frequently relied upon the Force in so menial a fashion, but the narrow corridor coupled with the unpredictable bursts from the rifle, had led to its necessity. The slugs had just been an added bonus, a way to put him on the back foot. She had never expected it would be quite so effective as it was.

She could almost feel the searing pain as the heated slugs burned his face, sensitive skin which forced not only a cry of pain from the man but also a weakened state. There was no time to apologize off the bat, instead she waved her hand and tried to send the rifle out of his reach, behind her if possible. Then, and only then, did she take a step forward.

"Don't move. There's no need for this to continue. Let me see your face, I should be able to help with the burns."

Her head turned toward the door, and her voice which had been previously quiet now raised slightly in order to speak to the man on the other side of the door provided he was still there.

"If I were you, Mr Cook, I'd take your family and leave through the back. You won't get another chance. Next time you might not be so lucky."

The RHO would likely be displeased with the trail turning cold, but there was always a chance she might pick it up again later and if not she'd offer to have some new supplies sent their way. It would be expensive, more than a girl from Midvinter - where medicine was sparse and credits did not exist - could afford, but she'd find a way. Even if she had to work a couple of jobs to make up the difference to Kära. She had the money in their family.

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

Slowly Derriphan pushed himself up so he could sit in an upright position. His eyes scanned for his weapon, only to find it lying around behind the woman and far out his reach. While the oppressive madness had given up the grip it had on his mind, the clone was still weary of the other after what had just happened, and it took him a few moments to consider his options. In the end he begrudgingly reached for his mask and pulled it of his head.

What waited below was tissue already afflicted with countless scars and marks, making the fresh burns hard to notice between them. His short blonde hair framed his face, too perfect compared to the crude, crooked nose that looked like it had been broken more then a few time. Not that he would know what deranged things they had done to him in his tank to make him look like that.

"By the old god lady, forget my wounds and just kick in that damned door. Maybe there are still some clues inside."

The mercenary rubbed his right over his face, scrubbing of any dead tissue remaining on it. There was no pain left, or at least his mind had already begun isolating him from the sensation left by the burns. With his other hand he helped himself to clumsily stand up, making sure to show that he wasn't about to start another assault on the woman. Once standing his hands turned to nervously fumbling around, feeling quite lost without a weapon between their fingers.

"What are the chances that you hand me my shotgun if I ask nicely?"

Slightly crooked teeth forced a deformed smile, as he tried to joke to overplay the feel of defeat. It was probably the first time that Derriphan told a joke, and he already noticed that he wasn't very good at it.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

"Gods," she corrected, smooth as butter. Almost as though there had been no question about it, no doubt in her mind.

At first she made no moves to head toward the door, at least no until she could sense the lifeforms who had previously been inside disperse out the back door. Then, and only then, did she nod at his request and stoop down to pick up the weapon. She didn't actually hand it to him though, instead carrying it - albeit a little awkwardly, her hands were used to grasping her bow - with her toward the door while he found his balance.

The fact that he no longer seemed in pain surprised her, it was curious to meet someone who was able to bypass injury after just a few moments of acknowledging it. That spoke to either a difficult past wherein he was used to such - which his face indicated toward - genetic alterations or near-human species, or simply conditioning. She leaned more toward the first thought.

"The door is already unlocked," she informed him, "No need to break private property. What is it, exactly, you're looking for?"

She already had her guesses of course, but she'd give him an opportunity to speak the truth and speak plainly. Maybe if he was a little more cooperative she'd even consider handing him back the weapon when they were done here.

There was something that was bothering her, however. He had been shocked by her ability to remain alive, the fact that she had used the Force, yet he had exhibited signs of corruption typically presented by practitioners of Bogan. Did he not know of his sensitivity? Did he even know of the Force?

He looks old enough to know about it, given the state of this Galaxy and how much freedom our kind are given. Too much freedom, in many ways, but that was neither here nor there.

"What's your name?" she asked, in place of the question that was begging to be inquired... But first, names. That was important.

[member="Derriphan"]

 

[Derriphan]

Blue eyes rested on her, clearly calculating if it was a risk to reveal his name. Not that it could be found in any registry, considering that he didn't existed by any official means, but it was still the only thing identifying him within his current line of work and therefore one of the few ways someone could find him. After around a minute of consideration the clone opened his mouth, uttering the word that had been written on his tank and that he took for a name for the lack of well anything else to use.

"Derriphan. You?"

He had tried to learn if his chosen name held any meaning, but his research, like any other conducted about his origins, had turned up absolutely nothing. His eyes switched from her face to his weapon in her hands, and for a moment he considered making a run for it and end this encounter his preferred way. After what happened before he quickly ditched the idea, to reduce the chance of earning even more scars.

"I was tasked with finding stolen goods."

Derriphan didn't deliberately left out the details of his job, he simply didn't deemed them important. It was always like this, someone took something from the wrong guy, so the wrong guy paid him to get it back and put a bullet into whoever had been dumb enough to take it. What someone like her was doing here on the other hand, that was actually a good question that only now even crossed his mind.

"Which asks the question, why is someone like you down here? You don't look like the typical gutter scum."

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]