Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Shadowed Deals and Unfinished Business: Nar Shaddaa

Lismand Bripear moved like a whisper through the neon-drenched underbelly of Nar Shaddaa. She had arranged a quiet meeting at an abandoned spaceport cantina, deep in the lower districts, to sell intelligence to a client known only as Vayren. The information—Imperial supply routes used by a breakaway faction—was valuable, but Lismand had learned never to trust a deal that seemed too easy.

The contact arrived, a seemingly hooded figure . But before Lismand could exchange pleasantries, a cold voice cut through the dimly lit space. This was no Vayren​
 
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"You were always were good at slipping through cracks, Bripear. But the cracks are closing."


Lismand turned slowly, her breath steady despite the sudden tension. Emerging from the shadows was a figure she had hoped never to see again...

DAWNCASTER A.k.A. GHOST


self-styled independent contractor who specialized in hunting rogue assets. She had crossed him once before, leaking information that led to the destruction of one of his secret operations. He hadn't forgotten.
"You've been selling secrets for a long time, Lismand," Ghost continued. "But the mistake was thinking you could stay ahead forever."


Lis raised an eyebrow, keeping her body language relaxed but her mind racing for an escape.
 
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"Well now... If its not the pot calling the kettle black." Lis responded quickly while realizing Vayren either set her up or was intercepted by Dawncaster at some point. Vayren was a "slippery" fellow. Never gave a reason really to trust him, but on the other hand, never gave a reason not to either.

"You make it sound like I stole important G.H.O.S.T data," she replied coolly. "But from what I hear, you don't answer to your former employer anymore. So tell me, Dawncaster… who's signing your paychecks these days?"
 
"Who is responsible for MY payday is none of your business.I never believed you were hiding, Lismand. You're too smart for that. No, you've been moving—making deals, selling whispers, turning power against itself. That's why you're valuable. Valuable to G.H.O.S.T." He tilted his head slightly. "That's why I could've brought you in cold months ago… but I didn't."

Dawncaster responded while keeping his hands near his dual pistols, as a battle could erupt at any moment's notice.
 
Lis' fingers twitched, itching to reach for the vibroblade hidden beneath her sleeve. She forced herself to maintain eye contact.


"That almost sounds like an offer," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "Are you here to collect a bounty, or are we playing one of your games?"
 
Dawncaster smirked under his helmet. "Why not both?" He took a slow step closer, his gloved hands resting near the blasters at his hips.

"Here's what I know," he continued, his voice lowering. "You've been selling intelligence on my operations. My clients. First, to the highest bidders. Then, to political and Government defectors of the GA. And now?" He let out a dry chuckle. "Now you're peddling information on underground warlords who don't officially exist."
 
"Is that what you told my sister before you left her to die? Back on Nal Hutta?....you should've picked a safer profession." He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's a price on your head, Lismand. The Hutts,even some Syndicate remnants. You've managed to piss off every major player in the game. And the best part?" He let the moment linger before finishing, "None of them know who sold them out."
 
Lismand's expression didn't change, but inside, alarms were going off. She knew the game, and she knew Dawncaster a.k.a. GHOST well enough to recognize a subtle test. He was trying to see if she would flinch—if she would give away which deal had exposed her.


Instead, she just shrugged. "Then I suppose I should be honored. But if all of those people are after me… why are you here alone?"
 
Dawncaster's pose would hint at something subtle —amusement? Annoyance? It was hard to tell.


"Because I wanted to give you a choice."


He would then spread his arms slightly. "You can come with me now, no blasters, no blood. I'll make sure you survive long enough to be useful." His tone was maddeningly casual, but his words carried weight. "Or… I leave, and the next time we meet, I won't be in the mood for conversation."
 
" Your forgetting one thing... If I also give you the information you desire. That is what you want isn't it? POWER does not come by might or arsenal...But by information... Leverage... And your sister knew more than you by the way. Anyhow, You want me alive," she pressed. "And it's not because of the bounty. It's because I know something you don't."


Lismand's grin widened. "Guess the cracks haven't closed yet."


Before GHOST could respond, the room erupted in chaos—a sudden explosion at the entrance, blaster fire cutting through the smoky air. The real players had arrived.
 
The explosion ripped through the cantina's entrance, sending a shockwave through the room. Glass and durasteel fragments sprayed across the floor as blaster fire erupted in every direction. Lismand didn't hesitate—she ducked low, rolling behind an overturned table while smoke poured in from the blast.

Through the chaos, she spotted GHOST moving through the haze like a specter. He didn't run, didn't flinch—just walked with slow, deliberate purpose, his dark armor flickering against the neon light. The cantina's remaining patrons scrambled for the exits, but the black-clad mercenaries with him stayed in formation, cutting off all escape routes.


This wasn't just an ambush. This was an execution.
 
Lismand exhaled sharply and stood, hands slightly raised—not in surrender, but in acknowledgment. GHOST wasn't just another bounty hunter. He was something else.


"Lismand Bripear," his voice came through the modulator in his helmet, cold and toneless. "You've made a mess. And as you can now see...I have given you a chance to stop this before it even started."

Ghost took a step closer, the weight of his presence pressing against her like an unseen force. Though his helmet concealed his expression, she could feel his eyes locked onto her, reading every twitch, every breath.


"You've sold intelligence on people who were meant to stay hidden," he continued. "The people I work for want to know how."
 
Lismand smirked, though her heart pounded. "And if I don't feel like sharing?"

A flicker of movement.

Before she could react, GHOST was already on her. A blur of motion—Lismand barely managed to shift backward as a vibroblade sang past her cheek, cutting a thin line along her jaw. She staggered, her back hitting the bar counter.

He hadn't missed. He had warned her.
 
Lismand had too many questions racing through her mind at the moment, but the most pressing matter was a way to escape. Between the mercenaries that seemingly came out of nowhere and GHOST having her cornered, her heart pounded uncontrollably.

As she noticed from the blast radius, there was a single shot manual handheld blaster within her eyes peripheral that she was sure GHOST had not noticed as of yet.

In one swift motion, she activated the slicer spike concealed in her wristband, jamming every local comm signal within a ten-meter radius. The mercenaries hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough.

Lismand grabbed the blaster from the floor and fired at the ceiling, shattering the dim lighting fixtures. The room plunged into darkness.
 
Lismand crouched low, weaving through the ruined cantina. She needed an exit, a way to disappear before Ghost adapted to the new situation. He was hunting her now.

A whisper of movement behind her.

She spun, firing blind. A flash of red light revealed his silhouette—he was already there. She barely dodged as his vibroblade slashed past her side, cutting through the fabric of her jacket.

She threw herself backward over a table, landing hard. Ghost advanced, but she wasn't out of tricks yet. With a flick of her wrist, she activated the hidden vibroblade in her bracelet and slashed at his arm.

A clang of metal against metal. He had caught her strike mid-air, gripping her wrist with inhuman speed.

Lismand felt fear curl in her stomach for the first time in years.
 
She gritted her teeth. "Watch me."

With a last-ditch effort, she twisted her body, kicking off the table and forcing Ghost to release her. She rolled, grabbed a broken holo-projector from the floor, and flung it into the cantina's fuel cells behind the bar.

BOOM.

The secondary explosion rocked the cantina, sending fire and smoke pouring through the room. Lismand didn't stop to see what happened—she sprinted through the debris, diving out of the side entrance just as another explosion followed.

She hit the grimy streets of Nar Shaddaa, gasping for breath. She had bought herself a few minutes at most.

But Ghost was still alive.

And now, he wasn't just hunting her for information.

He was hunting her because she had made it personal.
 

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