Dark Operator
Jewel of the Galaxy
Operative "Sable"
Strategic Intelligence Agency
Location: Coruscant | Senate District
Assignment: Public Surveillance
Tags: Galactic Alliance | Open
Nothing changed from the millennium of stasis.
Tall durasteel structures rise into the setting sky defiant to pierce the heavens above that lay hidden out of sight, therefore out of mind of the many denizens within the district itself. Thousands, upon thousands, and perhaps hundreds of thousands more underneath the layers of steel and space in between that made up the many layers of Coruscant's underbellies upon underbellies, each one more forgotten the deeper one was from another. As if the ruins of the old world were now mere legends compared to the vast reconstruction of a modern era upon its corpse, yet the husk thrives from the open air as its hosts suffocated long, long ago.
A mighty and true Galactic Republic once reigned in liberty and strength on the Galaxy's Gem. No world could compare, nor could any galactic government, federation or elsewise institute of power compare to the power wielded within the beating heart of the Core. Yet what could not be killed would only die by its own hand. Republic became Empire, liberty to tyranny as an Emperor reigned over a galaxy that would know no other scar unlike the which was never seen before its time. Even the Jedi Temple, standing upon Coruscant for as long as the planet could remember, became razed to the very foundations for a throne to be built upon it's husk, and only for it to be rebuilt again.
Coruscant has changed. And yet while hands have been exchanged throughout the millennia, it still remained the same as Sable has always known it to be. Since birth and enduring a life of hardship growing up in the slums no child should be haunted by. Since his time as a Dark Operator, growing beyond the fear and mediocrity to become the long shadow underneath the vigilant sigil of the Starbird. Here he stood now, on what he almost took to be a pocket in which everything had remained as they were. A jarring, almost nauseating experience, despite having been well over the disorientation effects of cryostasis before this current moment.
Winding through the crowds hadn't deterred the forever Dark Operator from his objective whatsoever. The movement of the crowds on the bustling streets with speeder traffic veering at almost blinding speeds overhead had been a familiar sensation. The Kaleesh, as surprising as it was to find them here now, who happened to be late for an appointment had merely bristled past the perceived movement of Sable before a Twi'lek woman bumped into his shoulder- The interaction itself so normal that neither one bothered to give nothing more than a glance before continuing towards their final destinations.
Public surveillance. A job that needed doing, but difficult without knowing what exactly you were looking for. That was the difficult part, because watching a singular subject was as simple as it sounded. Locating them within an ocean of moving bodies that vied for attention at every moving part was another, especially when you happened to be one of the very same bodies within. When the artificial starts to trickle in from above to make the crowds begin to move with a faster tempo, it made for an especially difficult time in just maneuvering alone.
Which led him to where he arrived to now. The name of the establishment had changed, perhaps multiple upon multiple of times, but its function had remained the same- A cafe. One that teetered on the point of not going too far into high class, yet also providing a quality service of more than 'decent' brews. What really drew the acting Strategic Intelligence Agent to was the patio itself, several tables sparced out from one another while sitting behind an enclosed fence. Raised at an elevation above the bustling street below at just about head-height, Jaqu'n strolled forward until finding an empty table for himself, back turned towards least likely angle of approach, and in the most opportune position to watch the masses with ease.
A waiter stepped forth, clearly not missing any beat with a new customer approaching. The Mirialan male appeared lean, but prim in cut and appearance. Just as he was beginning to recite the menu for recommendations, especially some daily item called the Urgoe Mint-
"Don't bother. I'll order a straight caf, nothing special."
Sable cut the man off well before the waiter could even start. After sorting himself from being razzled on such a short notice, the Mirialan gave a small affirming nod as he wanders off through a sliding glass door, holopad and stylus being tucked away into his coat. As for the operative, he only remained seated while applying the façade of enjoying his respite from the rain, meanwhile just watching for the unseen, those that wished to be so. Or perhaps he just might have an odd day. It was really up for debate on how his day would go beyond reclining in wait.
Tall durasteel structures rise into the setting sky defiant to pierce the heavens above that lay hidden out of sight, therefore out of mind of the many denizens within the district itself. Thousands, upon thousands, and perhaps hundreds of thousands more underneath the layers of steel and space in between that made up the many layers of Coruscant's underbellies upon underbellies, each one more forgotten the deeper one was from another. As if the ruins of the old world were now mere legends compared to the vast reconstruction of a modern era upon its corpse, yet the husk thrives from the open air as its hosts suffocated long, long ago.
A mighty and true Galactic Republic once reigned in liberty and strength on the Galaxy's Gem. No world could compare, nor could any galactic government, federation or elsewise institute of power compare to the power wielded within the beating heart of the Core. Yet what could not be killed would only die by its own hand. Republic became Empire, liberty to tyranny as an Emperor reigned over a galaxy that would know no other scar unlike the which was never seen before its time. Even the Jedi Temple, standing upon Coruscant for as long as the planet could remember, became razed to the very foundations for a throne to be built upon it's husk, and only for it to be rebuilt again.
Coruscant has changed. And yet while hands have been exchanged throughout the millennia, it still remained the same as Sable has always known it to be. Since birth and enduring a life of hardship growing up in the slums no child should be haunted by. Since his time as a Dark Operator, growing beyond the fear and mediocrity to become the long shadow underneath the vigilant sigil of the Starbird. Here he stood now, on what he almost took to be a pocket in which everything had remained as they were. A jarring, almost nauseating experience, despite having been well over the disorientation effects of cryostasis before this current moment.
Winding through the crowds hadn't deterred the forever Dark Operator from his objective whatsoever. The movement of the crowds on the bustling streets with speeder traffic veering at almost blinding speeds overhead had been a familiar sensation. The Kaleesh, as surprising as it was to find them here now, who happened to be late for an appointment had merely bristled past the perceived movement of Sable before a Twi'lek woman bumped into his shoulder- The interaction itself so normal that neither one bothered to give nothing more than a glance before continuing towards their final destinations.
Public surveillance. A job that needed doing, but difficult without knowing what exactly you were looking for. That was the difficult part, because watching a singular subject was as simple as it sounded. Locating them within an ocean of moving bodies that vied for attention at every moving part was another, especially when you happened to be one of the very same bodies within. When the artificial starts to trickle in from above to make the crowds begin to move with a faster tempo, it made for an especially difficult time in just maneuvering alone.
A waiter stepped forth, clearly not missing any beat with a new customer approaching. The Mirialan male appeared lean, but prim in cut and appearance. Just as he was beginning to recite the menu for recommendations, especially some daily item called the Urgoe Mint-
"Don't bother. I'll order a straight caf, nothing special."
Sable cut the man off well before the waiter could even start. After sorting himself from being razzled on such a short notice, the Mirialan gave a small affirming nod as he wanders off through a sliding glass door, holopad and stylus being tucked away into his coat. As for the operative, he only remained seated while applying the façade of enjoying his respite from the rain, meanwhile just watching for the unseen, those that wished to be so. Or perhaps he just might have an odd day. It was really up for debate on how his day would go beyond reclining in wait.
