The perfect weapon…

[Nubica Felidae]

The night was young, and Pleut was hunting. Curled up on a stool in formfitting black that matched her eyes, lips, and hair, she scanned the room for her contact and found only fools. Clumsy admirers frequently took her cold stare for an invitation. In her line of work, being beautiful was often a boon. But it was also an inconvenience.

"Good evening, my lady."

She looked up and frowned. She'd noted this witless Devaronian earlier, when he'd suffered a spectacular loss at sabacc. Now, reeking of liquor and overconfidence, he reached for her knee, slurring something about the heat of the desert sands and the curves of her bountiful dunes. Before his filthy fingers could touch her, she snapped his wrist like a twig. He screamed and fell to the sand-dusted floor, calling her all manner of names, but she only yawned and looked away. He clearly was not the man she was looking for. His friends hurried up to him, took one look at Pleut, and muttered dark promises as they carried him out, the man squealing like a Huttlet the entire time. She eased farther into the shadowy corner, swirling the drink in her glass with fastidious, black-tipped fingers.

She hadn't tasted the drink, of course. She never did.

Drinks could be poisoned at any moment. She'd already poisoned one tonight. The effects wouldn't be obvious until her mark was safely back home, contentedly sleeping. He wouldn't wake up again. And then her comlink would bing softly, letting her know her unknown employer was pleased and had deposited creds in her account.

What she needed now was a new job to keep her occupied. She'd been waiting for this new contact for hours and was already bored, and the men could smell it on her. Another one appeared at the edge of her table, fingers stroking his blaster.

"You lonely, sweetness?" he asked, flipping a toothpick with his tongue.

She looked him up and down. The slight human junker presented neither threat nor enticement. Definitely not her man. He looked her up and down in return. High-heeled wedge boots, black leather leggings clinging to shapely legs, tight-fitting jacket that concealed armour and weapons, not that he could've known that, nor could he know that the severe black bob was a wig. When his eyes reached her stark, chiseled face again, he leered. "Because you look... lonely."

"And you look like a diseased mynock. Move along." She waved a hand at him and scooted farther back in her booth, kicking her legs up onto the table to discourage further disturbances.

"You think you're too good for me?" he sputtered, reaching for his blaster with a shaking hand.

"Of course not. I know I'm too good for you."

With one simple but elegant kick, she struck a nerve cluster in his thigh that sent him sprawling onto the rough floor. This man had no friends to pick him back up. He had no choice but to crawl away on hands and knees, cursing her.

That, at least, made her smile a little.

#​

They were late. They’d used a series of go-betweens to set up the meeting with the assassin but due to a combination of ion storms and over-zealous customs officials, they knew there was every chance she’d left.

She was high on the list of those that posed a threat to a lot of things. Freedom, law and order, peace, public safety, galactic stability. It was a long list. Rumour had it, she was holding a contract for a high-ranking GA official. And that, simply, wouldn’t do.

Nubica glanced sideways at Jacen as they rushed to the bar. “These types are greedy. The amount on offer? They’ll wait. I’m confident.” She paused for a few seconds. "Are you?"

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Nubica Felidae"]

"Vaguely," Jacen replied. "If they've stayed alive in the job long enough to get paid this amount, they're probably also cautious," he added. His eyes traced the perimeter of the room. without him actually looking around. Scanning with peripheral vision was a trick he had picked up during his first year as an investigator. The bar was dark and dingy, with plenty of private booths for conversations in hushed tones. What was that phrase everyone liked to use? A hive of scum, that was it. This was definitely a hive of scum.

"Two beers please," he asked with a nod to the bartender. Rather than use credit chits, he used a crypto chip to pay straight from a dummy account. Best not to leave a trail when trying to track a renowned assassin. The bottle was picked up using the napkin he was left as he turned on his stool to face Nubica. "Alright, what are we looking for?"

 

[Nubica Felidae]

Nubica was no doubt less subtle than Jacen as she entered the bar. But she was a long way from the young girl that first met him in a similar establishment. The stakes weren’t as high then and she was both chronologically and mentally older.

She drank now for a start — albeit she had learned the old Jedi trick to metabolise the alcohol so she never got drunk.

“What are we looking for?” she echoed. “The perfect weapon apparently.”

#​

The night wore on, and her contact didn't show. She'd gently rebuffed seven more scoundrels and watched twice as many bad hands at sabacc when something clattered in her glass, splashing amber liquid onto the stained table. Her head jerked up, hunting for the source of the interruption. The scenery had not changed. Not a single new pair of eyes watched her; nor were any strangers circling her table as they practiced bad pickup lines under their breath. She knew this bar, and she knew all the other mercs, and she recognised most of these lowlifes, even if they didn't recognise her, thanks to a rotating gallery of disguises. But she had never before had any suitors attempt to gain her attention by dropping a room key in her glass.

Her eyes cut left and right before her elbow shot out, knocking the drink over.

"Oops."

She decided it was time to move on. She hooked a finger through the key ring, doing her best not to smudge the matte-black rishi eel ink she wore painted on her forefingers to cloak her fingerprints. ROOM 3, the tag read. Could be an invitation? Could be the job? Either way, she was going to find out. Sliding off her stool, she stood and stretched, readjusting her severe but exquisite outfit as she subtly checked her weapons. Snub-nosed blaster: check. Slender blade: check. Small thermal detonators hidden in the wedges of her boots: check. Seven throwing knives sewn into her jacket: check. Whatever the hotel guest hoped to pay her for, he were going to be surprised by her bag of tricks.

#​

Nubica almost gagged on a sip of her beer, but kept her cool. “I’d say we’re looking for her.” Aware she might draw the attention of the black-clad assassin, she slapped Jacen across the face. “How much? Try some back-alley if that’s all you can afford.”

She turned tail and walked towards the exit, accidentally bumping into the woman as she did. “Sorry,” she said, “Didn’t realise this was your territory. Is it predominantly S&M? Just that guy. What he offered for what he wanted? I could point him your way?”

The woman didn’t deign Nubica with a reply but instead picked up her pace and quickly disappeared through the exit.

‘Room 3,’ Nubica shared with Jacen. ‘See you up there.’

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Nubica Felidae"]

"Oh dear," the barman commented as Nubica left.

Jacen shrugged and gently massaged the side of his face that had turned a shade of pink. "I didn't think she was worth that much," he said as he finished his drink.

"Escorts with delusions of grandeur huh?"

"Feisty though," Jacen replied with a smirk. He left the empty glass on the bar and slipped off his stool, not wanting to seem to be rushing after her. "I'll go see if the price is negotiable." The handcannon in his jacket visible as he turned and waked away.

The murky green light that filtered in through the glass only added to insidious atmosphere of the district. High above a floating, angular inverted pyramid emitted a bright glare as adverts flashed across each of its sides.

Ignoring the calls of a streetside merchant he headed into the adjoining hotel. A subtle manipulation through the Force and the receptionists waved him by. Nubica had clearly decided not to wait for him so he loped up the stairs to the correct floor three at a time.

 

[Nubica Felidae]

Nubica was sometimes impetuous. OK, she was often impetuous. But she always tempered her risk-taking and dare-devil approach with a need to do the right thing.

This…well it was one of those times.

She followed at a discreet distance, using the Force to ascertain where the woman was heading. She sensed therefore, rather than saw, her enter the adjacent building – a hotel and gave her a few moments before entering.

The establishment was practical as opposed to luxurious. It was clean in a bleach kind of way – stark and neon predominated. She ignored the desk clerk and headed up the stairs. The first floor (or was that the second floor, she always struggled with local customs when they named such things) comprised a long corridor and perhaps twenty rooms.

She headed over to the third door on the left and listened. She sensed two occupants. Moving forward to the next doorway, she checked and the Force told her it was empty. A gentle Ionize later and the door swung open. She stepped in and, having double-checked it was both empty and not currently in use, she poked her head out of the door, looking down the corridor for her partner to arrive.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Nubica Felidae"]

Jacen saw Nubica’s blonde hair as she leant out into the corridor. A curt nod from Jacen and she vanished from sight. Now he didn’t rush. He walked cautiously, but not overly so. Attempting to sneak by silently would likely just draw attention, whilst there would be plenty of patrons walking past the room.

There were no clothes in the room, but the bed was still unmade. It smelled of…well, it needed some fresh air. He’d been through some tough scrapes with Nubica. Foremost amongst those was the time they’d been captured by the Final Order and tortured on a remote space station. That Force Bond from those times was still there, allowing him to communicate with her directly.

Where is she?

 

[Nubica Felidae]

Nubica pointed at the wall that divided this room from the next one. She was either in the closet or the young Knight was indicating the adjoining room.

'She's in there. With someone else. Could be a random pick-up that's about to go badly wrong or she might believe that person is us...as in the contact. Or maybe they know it's us coming and came to warn her. Or...I should stop speculating, right?'

She looked at Jacen. His face said she was rambling. Her own mind told her she was rambling. 'Just covering the bases.' She smiled.

Despite the plethora of sophisticated surveillance techniques available, Nubica picked up ma bedside glass, frowned at how dirty it was but cupped it to her ear and placed it on the wall. 'Seems the logical choice...'

#​

She headed for the long hallway. She'd never visited the bar's adjacent hotel before, knowing it was used primarily by the dancing girls and high rollers, whether together or separately. The stairway was narrow and stank of bleach - but no doubt hid worse, and she drew her blaster as she edged upward, careful not to touch the bannisters.

Aiming her blaster down each side of the hallway, she found nothing worth shooting. Identical numbered doors marched down the sand-colored panelling, various sounds whispering or thumping rhythmically behind them. She paused beside door number three. Her back to the wall, she leaned an ear against the plasteel and heard nothing within. She knocked twice, quick, and slowed her breathing as she waited, blaster held aloft, for a response. None came.

How inhospitable.

Blaster in one hand, old-fashioned key in the other, ready to run or shoot, she unlocked the door and nudged it open with one boot. She had expected blasterfire, an enemy's cackle, or the smooth sounds of a jatz band and a fool's compliments, but what she got was utter silence. Slipping a small mirror from one of her pockets, she used it to scout the room through the open door.

A lone figure sat on the dishevelled bed, utterly still. Even in the low light, she could tell it was a protocol droid, and not one of the new, fancy ones. This one was skeletal and missing an arm, the barest sketch of a sentient being. The rest of the room was slightly off, towels on the floor and chairs askew, as if the person who'd left her the key had done so on his or her way out.

"Hello?" she called, voice pitched low to sound inviting.

There was no answer. She didn't know if she was more intrigued or annoyed. Sure, she'd been bored in the bar and waiting for a mission, but she preferred her work like she preferred her clothes: tidy, no nonsense, a good fit, and ready to burn if she had to run.

She slipped the mirror back in its pocket and took up her blade. Both weapons drawn, she stepped into the room, ready for the worst.

The rusty protocol droid's head slowly ratcheted up to scan her face.

"Greetings," it said in a dull, heartless monotone. "What if I told you two Jedi have just this moment entered the adjacent room?"

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Nubica Felidae"]

Jacen didn't need the glass to hear what had just been said. He mouthed the word: feth to Nubica. There was a reassuring thwack as he pulled his Occluder handcannon from his jacket and aimed it towards their own door. Wouldn't help if the assassin decided to go round the outside of the building mind, or even straight through the wall. The handcannon could punch a hole in that flimsy barrier, so there was a fair chance the assassin would be carrying something with a similar punch. After all, what was some wood and plaster to a blaster bolt that could cut through durasteel?

Holding his possession, he stretched out with his senses. Even a master assassin would be spooked at this point. No one liked being caught out. That meant she would do something rash, or try and flee quickly. They were only a few floors up, the window made an acceptable escape route. If it was him he'd get down to ground level and go for a speeder.

What now? he virtually screamed at Nubica.

 

[Nubica Felidae]

Feth indeed!

Double feth as she was suddenly aware that Jacen was looking for her to take charge.

#​

A mere mortal would have asked questions. One at least. But she was an assassin — and a very good one too.

Kicking up one foot, she flicked the catch that released the thermal detonator cradled in the high wedge heel of her boot. She thumbed the button and tossed it at the adjoining wall before pulling her blaster and firing a hole in the window before diving through it. It was all done in one swift motions.

The moment she landed, she rolled onto her knees and then was up and running. Her heart pounded, her boots skittering over the rubbish strewn over the back alley as she imagined two Jedi were hot on her tail

That just made her run faster.

#​

“We run before that bomb goes off and then chase her?” Nubica blew out the window with a Force Push before leaping through it and standing, checked her senses to see which way the woman went.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Nubica Felidae"]

Jacen was running before Nubica even finished her explanation. The fall was relatively shallow to a Jedi, but the sudden rush of air from the explosion behind him made him lose his aerial control. He landed hard and tucked into a roll, coming back to his feet and using his hands to stop himself on the a building on the far side of the street.

"Go!" he shouted, legs pumping hard as he gave chase. It would have been easy to follow the clear signature of a quarry who was wracked with fear. Yet all he could sense was that cold, calculating mind. The Force gathered around him to send him soaring over a chain-link fence at the end of the alley that must have slowed her down a touch.

Perhaps a little too keen to close the gap, Jacen rounded a corner at full pelt. A faint tremor through the Force was all the warning he had. He planted his front foot and lurched backwards as the assassin's trigger was pulled. His left arm swung out and if Nubica didn't come to a halt of her own accord, she was going to get something like a clothesline at shoulder level. Still, that was better than a bolt through the chest.

 

[Nubica Felidae]

She was a master of Teräs Käsi. It allowed her to close her mind to those Force-types. And also made her harder to pick up through the Force apparently. They were gaining on her, she was sure of it, so once she clambered over a wire fence, she took only a few steps before taking ana alleyway to the left and then she turned and pulled her blaster. If she couldn’t outrun them, she’d have to kill them.

He had fast reflexes, she’d give him that. Or he was using that mumbo-jumbo stuff she didn’t fully understand but begrudgingly respected?

Regardless, as she fired at his chest, she was aware he’d stopped on a credit chip and may evade the shot. But now she’d stopped, she had little choice than to stand and fight. So she drew her blade.

#​

Nubica was running full-pelt one moment and had the wind knocked out of her sails the next as her feet continued forwards whereas her upper body stopped still. The pain was intense but better than having your face blow off.

So as her feet now moved vertically upwards and her torso vertically downwards, a blaster bolt passed over her horizontal body. When she got up and get her wind back and if she survived? She’d say thank you.

Right now, she had a date with the concrete floor.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]