Private From the Shadows

[The Hyacinth]

Outer Rim
Jutrand


As ever, the city was abuzz with activity.

It’d been some time since Akhlys set a boot planetside on Jutrand, mostly to avoid the slim but possible interaction with a man(?) now known as The Dead God. Not really out of fear, just plain avoidance of encountering a old Master which might’ve been awkward. And perhaps just slightly questionable given the passage of time since they’d last seen each other in the flesh. Still, what showcased the Order’s power — and its ruthlessness — could be found on this maze of a city-planet

Today’s outing didn’t concern the squabbling of the Order though. He was there to meet a contact for an economic deal, hopefully one he could sway in his favor. Kairos was well off-enough, but it could always use support. Support came from connections, simple math.

As the cyborg strode nonchalantly through the streets towards the cantina where he’d arranged to meet one Vale Braste, he double-checked that things were in place. Force quick to respond, vibroblade sheathed on his back, daggers on the right and a small set of throwing knives on the left in hidden compartments. All in relatively easy access positions. And if they had a gun: well, that ammo could be tracked along a line, dodged, held in place, or redirected. Market types weren’t really ones for guns unless they were hired anyway. Or maybe they did. Maybe that was one of the changes he missed out on.

But, one could never be too careful.

Once he arrived at The Rift Cantina, he ordered a Revnog and took a seat in the corner to observe. People watching was really a fun pastime, his diagnostic scans sent him information on people he honed in one and displays overlaid in his vision gave him information on unfamiliar games as well as drinks and their contents. He’d given this Vale a loose description of him as well as his alias, he wasn’t the sort that could be missed unless he wanted to be. Hush hush and all.

It was fun to watch, especially when you weren’t sure which little birdie would come to perch. So, he was content to watch and sip and wait for a time.

Adean Castor​

 

[Adean Castor]

It was a rare time in which Adean was able to escape the confines of the Sith academy. Classes were grueling. Her personal studies were similarly intense, all in an effort to catch up to her fellow classmates, to maintain the illusion that she was of a long-established dynasty of Sith. The facade, and the pressure to maintain it, was exhausting. So she slipped out. Even if it was just a few hours, the break was sorely needed. Any time to shed the manufactured confidence that was Brassius Zambrano was a blessing.

Be it an untapped skill or sheer luck (or to some, the absence of luck), she moved relatively unnoticed both throughout the academy and beyond. Someone who thrived off attention would've hated the lack of presence that Adean solidly relied on the majority of her life. She moved through the city unbothered, taking in the sights and sounds with collected curiosity. A familiar perched on her shoulder, keeping its beady eyes out for items of interest and threats.

The familiar gave a gentle trill of warning as she reached the entrance of The Rift Cantina, just enough of one for the Epicanthix to narrowly avoid being ran over by an individual barreling out of the Cantina, a beeping comlink in hand. "What do you mean the account's been cleared out? I'm supposed to be meeting them now..." The voice trailed off as they kept going and Adean, only slightly bothered, continued on inside.

She was slightly awestruck when she did enter. The academy had taken up the majority of her life in the recent months. One could've almost forgotten that there was a life outside of the classes and competition. She weaved around tables, taking in various games and snippets of conversations she wasn't privy to, before eventually coming to the bar.

The tender looked a bit frazzled, as if looking for someone who had disappeared - the person she'd nearly ran into upon entry, perhaps? A drink was in their hand. "Are you Vale?" they asked, sparing her an exasperated glance as another patron clamored for their attention.

Panicked and put on the spot, Adean said the first thing that came to mind. "Uh, sure, yeah." Internally cursing herself as soon as the words left her mouth. Why was it that her first instinct was to agree? Why couldn't she give a simple no? The bartender either believed her or was too busy to care, sliding a drink in front of her. Huh. Guess being 'Vale' had its perks.

The Hyacinth ​

 

[The Hyacinth]

As he waited for his contact, he looked around and sipped at his glass lazily.

People of a variety of species talked and walked amongst each other. They laughed together, glared at each other, gave cheerful slaps on their neighbor’s backs over a witty comment or a clever play in whatever game they found themselves engrossed in.

Forgetfulness, always forgetfulness. Doubly so when you live in or travel to the beating heart of Sith Order space.

At one point, earlier in life, he might’ve wanted to forget too. Even briefly, like these people that milled about without a care in the galaxy. But, in his position, he could afford the luxury of forgetting. Not in the way that he offered to others off-world. Too many things at stake to overindulge in such a manner, too many things to manage, and too many moving parts to track.

Motion at the door and then a subtle sign from the barkeep caught his attention. Show time.

He finished off the contents in his cup and made a small clearing sound in his throat before stalking towards the bar. While approaching, he took stock of the person the tender gestured at before they moved on to the next customer. They looked awfully young to be in the market business. Then again, market types had a reputation for being a family thing and for having unconventional employees and agents. Everyone fit in somewhere. There was something off about this one though, but perhaps that was simply anxiety.

Either way best to keep his guard up, just in case he was screwed over.

An oddly cheerful baritone cut through the din of the conversations happening around them. “Are you Vale?” He extended a metallic hand. “Ahklys. I believe we have business to attend to, maybe in a spot with a bit more privacy.” He ordered another Revnog and scooped it up once it arrived, gesturing back to the table where he’d been waiting. He didn’t wait very long before turning and walking back to the table, leaving little room for argument or anything other than walking alongside him.

He sat back down in the booth that allowed he to watch the space around them and to have a clear view of the door to the cantina. He put his glass down and sat up, leaning forward a bit and smiling to give the outward appearance that they were having some engaging and perhaps light-hearted conversation. "Is the account in order? Everything in place, as we discussed?" He could be rather blunt, especially when he didn’t really want to be on Jutrand in the first place, but business was business and it needed to be conducted by someone.

He certainly didn’t enjoy wasting time… or having his own time wasted by others.

Adean Castor ​