This Could Be the Start of Something New...

[Ayoven]

[member="Finley Dawson"]

"And stay out!"

Late evening pedestrians of mid-level Coruscant watched in mild shock as a man suddenly came flying out of the door of the Lucky Strike cantina. The man hit the ground face first and slid at least a meter, nearly bending in half before his feet collapsed to the ground. After a moment or two he managed to get his bearings and got to his knees, turning to face the brightly lit club interior.

"You *hic* can't talk to *hic* me like that!" he shouted in a drunken stupor, "You *hic* b****!" Almost before the words were out of the man's mouth a bottle smashed into his face, sending him right back into the pavement. The stunned silence continued as a young woman with flowing red hair stepped out of the Lucky Strike to survey her handiwork.

"Let that be a lesson to ya!" she declared, spitting on the ground at the man's feet, "There ain't no place for p***** at the Strike, especially ones that insult the help!" With a final toss of her fiery mane, the woman disappeared back into the cantina as the pedestrians snapped out of their stupor and continued along, steps a little more hurried.

"By the sword of the Mand'alor, girl," said the bartender as the impromptu bouncer returned, "Take it easy, you know Bradi doesn't like sweeping glass off the pavement." The girl smiled as she collected a tray full of glasses.

"He also owes me for the last time I whooped his sorry rump," she replied, steadying her load. The bartender chuckled.

"Speaking of which," he continued, his tone suddenly becoming hushed, "The match is set, you face the Reaver tonight, Ayoven." A light of excitement flashed across the girl Ayoven's face.

"You're the best, Adaran," she replied, smile broadening, "Can't wait to put that lame pretender on his a**." The bartender smiled back as Ayoven returned to work. As she walked away, he took a specially marked glass and turned it over on his bar. It was a signal, meant only for those who knew about the activities that took place at the bar when it really got late. It conveyed a simple message:

Fight tonight. Don't be late.

 

[Finley Dawson]

Making it his thing to explore all the strange corners of the galaxy, it almost seemed pedestrian for Finley to be on Coruscant. However, the ecumenopolis presented great opportunities, each level almost like a complete self-contained world on itself.

It was in the lower levels of the planet that Jedi artifacts had begun trickling down from the surface, robbers having picked the ruined NJO temple clean after the Sith had their fill looting. Great repositories of knowledge and powerful mystical items were now in circulation on the black market. He was here to look into leads in gathering what he could along with his small team of Libarians and Shadows.

One lead had taken him right here to one of the Mid-levels of Coruscant, on the hunt for a peculiar pawn shop. The Jedi was dressed to blend in, wearing common street clothes and a hooded navy cloak. In place of his lightsaber usually featured prominently on his hip, there was a heavy blaster pistol, and a second holdout blaster stuffed right down his boot. He moved around the crowds while studying a map on a datapad, passively drawing upon the Force to avoid any collision with a nimble sidestep or turn here and there. When he did look up, it was for a street sign, frowning all the while.

"I feel like we should have been at Olevander's by now," he told Charlie. "But these maps are way out of date. I can't even find a street sign half the time. Maybe this Coruscant First should spend less time posting colorful magazine spreads and more time cleaning up this mess."

As he looked up again, he spied a cantina marked by a big glowing neon, Lucky Strike. He was hungry and thirsty, and a cantina was a good place to ask for directions.

"Hmm, let's take a break," he said as he stowed away his datapad, then motioned for her to follow.

While heading for the door of Lucky Strike, he suddenly felt a jolt of warning in his mind, which made him stiffen and pause in his step. It was a good thing that he did, because he would have been smacked right by the swinging door as flew open, a man flying right behind it into a tumble across the street. There was some shouting from the man - more like loud slurring - then he was back on his behind again as a bottle rocketed right into his face and shattered.

Finley cringed for the fallen man right as a fierce looking redhead stormed out of the establisment. She looked to be the source of the man's current state on the ground. It was at that time he felt like stepping in if she decided to follow up, but thankfully the woman disengaged after given the drunkard a piece of her mind.

Focused so closely on these two people now, he felt something special about the redhead as she turned back into the cantina with a hair flick, but he didn't think about it too much immediately drawn to the injured man on the ground.

Gingerly, he approached the bent the knee to give him a look over. The man was still conscious, but groaning loudly while still on the floor, a gash across his cheek from being hit earlier.

"Oh dear...Charlie, stay with him for a sec and keep him from moving. He might have a concussion. I need to head into the cantina for some water."

He stood straight and looked down at the man one last time, then entered the cantina with great reluctance.

Hopefully, he wouldn't end up on the receiving end the resident redhead's aggression.

[member="Ayoven"] [member="Charlie Nooran"].

 

[Charlie Nooran]

[SIZE=10pt]Charlie had tagged along once again with Finley, she as starting to enjoy their time together especially since he seemed to enjoy her company as well – so she assumed. They searched high and low for the specialty pawn shop, when Finley made the comment about the Coruscant First she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ah don’t let any of their fans hear you. Might not be able to drag you out of that fight.” The small padawan took a moment to look at the map, it was a mess, but wasn’t Coruscant already a mess? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Always in a constant state of rebuild, she wondered if it would ever find an end to it. The smell of food lingered in the air and the girl could feel her mouth salivating. They hadn’t eaten and she had already made her way through her snacks. “A break sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day Finley.” They wandered and then chaos struck. Why did chaos always strike when she was about to eat? Sighing softly, she looked at the injured man and then back at the woman who went back into the cantina. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Kneeling beside the man she opened her hand to his cheek and began healing him. She had learned a little first aid from her time at the Rest and back at her old Sect. Still she was nowhere near a true healer’s ability. It would at least stop the bleeding. Seeing that Finley was entering the cantina, she called out to him, “Bring me a taco!” Her stomach ached as she continued healing the man quietly and as stealthy as she could. Being a Jedi wasn’t always a good thing around these parts. Stopping, she looked at him as she patted his shoulder softly. [/SIZE]

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Nabone Klokass"] [member="Darth Vyrassu"] [member="Lilla Syrin"]

"All right, here we are gents," Ayoven set as she set the drinks before table number five, "Two Bantha Blasters, one Corellian whiskey and one something I don't know how to pronounce." The men thanked her as Ayoven turned and headed back to the bar. She reached it and was about to gather up the next delivery when suddenly she felt the back of her neck tingle. It was a familiar feeling, one she always got in the ring when the next attack was a feint or when her opponent was weakening. She'd felt it before too, before she came to the Lucky Strike, and never in a good way.

Turning to face the bar proper, Ayoven spotted a young man walking in through the door she had recently vacated. He didn't look like anything out of the ordinary, but the strange feeling was definitely coming from him. She wanted to get rid of him, so the tingling feeling would go away, but Adaran would skin her alive if she refused a customer without a good reason. Instead, she did what she did best: she walked right up to her problem and looked it straight in the eyes.

"Welcome to the Lucky Strike," she said with as much cordiality as she could muster, "How can I help you this evening?"

 

[Finley Dawson]

"Sure, sure," he muttered softly with a wave of his hand, not quite sure what a 'taco' actually was. He would find the food gremlin something.

Inside, the cantina was just about what he expected down in a lowers, a seedy place full of shady customers. However, it was noticeably more orderly in Lucky Strike than other similar establishments. Perhaps they all feared the wrath of the redhead.

Speaking of the redhead, he had hoped to avoid her, but she just waltzed right up to him, offering a polite, if cool, greeting. Behind that facade, however, he could feel that she was suspicious of him. Suspicion, and something more. The Force flowed strongly through this woman, though she didn't seem aware. She could be one of those cases of latent Force Sensitives, who could go through their entire lives not being any wiser.

He couldn't be sure. The only way was to sit down and talk to her, but it appeared to be difficult in this forum. Somehow he would have to pull her away.

"Thank you," he said, pulling down his hood. "Hoping to get a bite to eat. Do you serve burgers here? And, I was hoping to get some water for my friend."

He looked back through the smudged front window at the drunkard still decked out on the pavement, then back at the woman. "Someone did quite the number on him."

Fibbing about not witnessing the altercation, he was curious to see her reaction.

[member="Ayoven"] [member="Charlie Nooran"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Charlie Nooran"]

The feeling grew stronger as Ayoven talked to the man, but she tried to ignore it. The faster she did her job and got this man out of here, the faster the feeling would go away. Pulling out her holopad, she noted the man's order.

"Sure thing, pal," she replied, gesturing towards an empty table, "It'll be out for ya in just a sec." She turned away to give the order to the bar and get away from the man, but turned back at his comment.

"Oh, that low-life p****?" she said with a snort, "Doesn't understand the meaning of "One too many" or "Hands off". Good riddance." The matter settled, she walked to the bar to note the order in the computer system.

"I don't like that guy," Adaran said, sliding over to stand across from her, "With the hood and all. Something's off about him." Ayoven shrugged, though she had been feeling the same thing. The man was different from most of the other patrons who came to the Lucky Strike. He didn't seem like the pit fighting type, and his air made her decisively uneasy. But, at least he wasn't trying his darndest to get flat out drunk, so silver lining there.

"Keep an eye on him, will ya?" Adaran said as he went to the back to make the food.

"Sure thing," she replied, "Just try not to burn it on purpose, m'kay?" Adaran chuckled. It took him only a few minutes to prepare the basic burger, business being slow before the fights got started, and Ayoven braced herself and walked it back to the man's table.

"Here ya are," she said, "Enjoy."

 

[Finley Dawson]

He had hoped to get the water and step out to aid the man as he awaited delivery of the burger, but he politely obliged and took his seat.

After some light probing. The woman would go on to explain what had happened. Apparently, he had gotten to handsy with her, which had earned himself the beating from before. Finley couldn't say the man didn't have it coming, but he felt the woman had probably gone too far. However, he kept his personal commentary to himself while he awaited service.

He never stopped tracking the redhead as she returned to the bar, who still radiated with an air of suspicion. And she wasn't the only one, he could feel. Well darn. Despite is best efforts to remain inconspicuous, he was still standing out. Maybe it was just the way he carried himself, which no disguise could really hide.

A few minutes later, she returned with his order, now quite tense. He gave her an easy smile as she arrived at his table.

"Ah, thank you, but would you mind watching this table for a second? This burger isn't really for me."

Once he had the water he excused himself with a small bow, then stepped outside to find Charlie still in place with the man.

"There were none of those 'tacos', but it looks like they make bantha burgers. Go inside, and find the redhead, I asked her to sit with your plate. I'll set him straight, then join you inside."

[member="Ayoven"] [member="Charlie Nooran"]

 

[Charlie Nooran]

[SIZE=10pt]Charlie had remained kneeling besides the knocked-out man. She had finished doing whatever little healing she could do quietly without alerting anyone to what she was doing. She knelt there with her knees to her frame and her feet flat on the ground, a typical way for her to be squatted down. Looking up at Finley who had just arrived from inside, she brushed aside her dark hair and stood. “Oh, Bantha burgers.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She was a bit bummed about the lack of tacos, but burgers were also high up on her favorite foods. A smile spread across her face as she nodded. “Mmm sounds good.” Looking down at the man she rubbed the back of her head and sighed, “He hasn’t moved much, I tried my best to make him feel a little better.” Nodding, she moved to enter the establishment. Her stomach growled, and she went directly to the woman her partner described. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Oh, thank you for keeping an eye on this.” Charlie sat down and eyed the burger with a hungry look. It was perfection and she sighed happily. Looking around she smiled at the woman, “What do you have to drink?” She hoped they had some of that bubbly stuff that was in a bottle called Brut or Broot something like that. [/SIZE]

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Finley Dawson"]

"Um, sure," Ayoven replied when the man asked her to watch the table. It was a strange request for someone who came in for food, but the bar was small and she could still keep up with the few drink orders while keeping an eye on the man's table. Luckily she didn't have to shoo anyone away, which might have gotten a bit awkward, and after a bit a young woman, possibly around Ayoven's own age, walked into the bar and headed for the table. Ayoven got the same hackles-raised feeling as she got from the man, and internally sighed. She did not need this right now, not on the eve of the biggest fight of her career. Still, she had a job to do, and Adaran was the one man she respected, so she met the girl as she reached the table.

"Sure thing," she replied to the woman. She inquired about drinks, and Ayoven began listing options.

"Well, we do Bantha Blasters as well as a few other specialties, we have numerous domestic and imported options on tap-I highly recommend the Corellian-and even a few bottles of Chandrilan if you're one of those up-scale types." Not something you would normally hear from a ruthless gladiator, but hey, Ayoven had been working at the Lucky Strike for five years. Old habits die hard.

As Ayoven talked with the woman, the number of patrons at the Lucky Strike suddenly began increasing. Rapidly. Mostly big, goonish fellows, not a few packing heat and stacks of credits under their coats. They came in, saw the strategically placed glass, and walked towards a door at the back of the bar. Adaran watched each one in turn, and upon receiving the appropriate signal, a slightly scratched ear-easy to miss if you weren't looking for it-pressed a button beneath his bar. Behind the door, a monster of a man saw a light flash with each entrance and did not go to work with the massive vibroblade clutched in his meaty fist. Ayoven noticed the influx, and couldn'y help but smile. It was almost time. She then returned her gaze to the girl.

"So, what'll it be?"

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Charlie Nooran"]

 

[Charlie Nooran]

[SIZE=10pt]Charlie pondered her choices for beverage. She knew what she needed to be ordering was something non-alcoholic. She was far too young to be touching anything that hindered her senses. She took a bite out of the burger and the delight she felt showed on her youthful face. Putting the burger that was the size of her head down, she tapped her chin and then swallowed the bite down. I’ll have whatever you got that has those bubbles from the brut or something. Thank you!” Charlie shrugged, she had to credits to pay so it wasn’t a big deal going a little more upscale. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Looking around she noticed the place was getting more and more packed. Lips pressing together the young Seoulian looked towards the door hoping that Finley was alright out there. The guy that was beat up seemed to be in bad shape, but also seemed to be like someone who could out someone into bad shape. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]While waiting for her drink, Charlie made a visual sweep of the place – memorizing faces that seemed to be important. They had a job to do and possibly there could be some leads. A fry found its way into her mouth as she swung her feet as she sat there and ate. “What could be taking him so long…?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt][member="Ayoven"] [member="Finley Dawson"][/SIZE]

 

[Finley Dawson]

Now outside again, Finley took a knee beside the man. While still nearly motionless on the ground, the man had began labored groaning, a small sign of recovery.

"Sir, I'm about to administer first aid," Finley said with a small wave of the hand. "Please remain calm."

The drunkard stopped groaning as he fell under the sway of hypnosis, making him much easier to work with. Finley proceeded to tap two fingers against the man's forehead, feeling out for any sign of internal bleeding or bruising of the brain, the tell-tale signs of a concussion. Fortunately, there was nothing - it looked like the worse he would suffer was a cut cheek and bruised pride (assuming he had any, to begin with).

The Jedi pulled out a handkerchief from under his cloak, then doused it with some of the water he had carried out of the cantina. Gingerly, he cleaned away the blood from around the cut without actually touching the wound itself. He then set his free hand hovering a few centimeters right above the cut, then began to concentrate.

Healing energies were channeled through his hand into the man's face, invisible to the naked eye, but would appear like a beacon in the Force to any nearby who could perceive it.

He focused in on the cut, accelerating the regeneration process while also sealing up the wound in place of stitches. For the experienced healer already worked with a relatively shallow wound, the process only took about a couple minutes. There was still a noticeable red line from where the skin had been resealed, but that would go away with time as the man finished healing on his own.

"There we go, now let's get out of the middle of the street." He slowly stood up while guiding the man up to his feet with one arm. While quite wobbly, Finely managed to lead the man to the other side of the street and set him down seated against a wall.

"When you feel well enough, head home and sleep this off. Try not to get in trouble." Before standing up again, he set the half-full cup beside the man. "Enjoy the water."

Still in a bit of a daze, the man nodded weakly as Finley turned back for the catina.

Back inside Lucky Strike, he found Charlie had made herself right at home, munching on her burger. The redhead was still there, too. Good. He nodded at them both as he took a seat on the other side of the small square table. Looking around for a moment, he noticed that the catina had gotten considerably more crowded between the time he had first entered and left.

"Our friend is taken care of," he started, shooting a quick glance at the server. "So, how's the burger?"

[member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Finley Dawson"]

Ayoven raised an eyebrow at the girl, who apparently did not seek an alcoholic beverage in a bar. Perhaps she had misjudged her age? Anyway, they had some other fizzy drinks stuck behind the bar for the extremely rare teetotaler who came in looking for a bit of adventure and to prove the strength of their convictions.

"Sure thing kid," she replied, turning away and walking back towards the bar.

On her way back, something suddenly exploded in Adaran's mind. Her hair stood up and she shivered, and might have stumbled if years of dancing hadn't given her impeccable balance. She looked around the bar, trying to figure out what had happened. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, except the young woman mowing through her burger, but that didn't give her mind any solace. Something extremely freaky was going on, something she really didn't like. She decided to just keep walking. Keep moving forward, that was the ticket. Maybe a shot of Corellian too.

"Interesting customers you have over there," Adaran said as he pulled the brightly decorated can from beneath the bar. Ayoven shrugged as she tipped back the shot glass. The drink burned, but at least it got her hair to lie down again.

"You always told me you get the strangest people on Coruscant," she replied. Adaran grinned.

"Strange certainly is the word," he said, pouring the drink into a glass, "You should see what Bosco caught on the front security cam." Adaran's eyebrows raised, urging him to continue.

"That scum-bucket you threw out?" he continued, "That freaky one with the hood did some funky stuff with his head and he stood up and walked off." Ayoven's eyes widened. That crazy surge of strangeness, of...power. Had that been because of the man with a hood.

"What's wrong?" Adaran said, noticing her look of shock. Ayoven shook her head clear.

"Nothing," she replied, "Just pre-fight jitters I guess." Adaran gave her a disbelieving look, but didn't pry.

"Best be getting down," he continued, "I'll handle the rest of the orders." Ayoven nodded, happy to get away from the freakiness of the bar.

 

[Charlie Nooran]

Charlie continued to eat her food, hoping that she would be getting that glass of bubbly brut or champagne. She enjoyed the bubbly and dryish liquid, it also made her feel all warm inside. Though when the server mentioned kid, she frowned knowing all too well that it meant she wasn’t going to be getting it. Cursing under her breath, she continued to eat her burger.

Finley had shown up and she looked at him and nudged her plate of fries towards him. The Knight probably wouldn’t understand how much of a big step this was for the padawan, sharing food was such a rare occasion. He asked about her burger and she nodded. “Its delicious, I love burgers – its one of my favorite foods.” She continued to eat, her eyes glanced towards where the red headed woman was by the bar and Charlie kept the faith of getting her drink. Though just as fleeting as her hope was, the woman left the bar.

Looking towards Finley, she frowned. “I don’t think I’m getting my drink and I don’t think you’re getting any food.” Setting the mostly eaten burger down the Seoulian girl wiped her mouth and mused silently. “This place is weird and oddly full – happened really quick. You think there’s more to this place?” It could have been that the burgers were the best on Coruscant, but there could be more to it. “What do you think?”

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Finley Dawson]

Charlie also noted, aloud,how she had noticed the growing crowd in the catina. Inspecting the newcomers he realized not of then were ordering anything.

The redhead had sauntered back off to the bar. Shifting back to her, he could still feel that same air of suspicion between her and the man she spoke with. No doubt some onlookers had been observing as he tended to the man, too, though he has done his best to keep his back to them and obscure his healing.

“No, you shouldn't be getting a drink,” he finally replied as he looked back on Charlie. “A certain someone was quite explicit about that.”

After a little while, it looked like Red wasn't returning. Not wanting to lose her, he decided to head over to the bar himself.

“I'll be back, I'll see if they have a more...age appropriate option.”

He stood and headed over to the bar, approaching the woman and the strange male who he assumed was some kind of bartender.

“Well hello there, I just wanted to compliment you on a great service so far. My friend is quite pleased with the Bantha Blaster.” He took a moment to glance around the crowded area. “Seems this catina is quite popular, but I can see why.”

It was a gentle probing presented as a compliment, to see exactly what this bunch was up to now.


[member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Finley Dawson"]

After leaving the bar proper, Ayoven went through a special staff door that led to the apartment she and Adaran shared in the back of the bar. A spartan residence, betraying Adaran's Mandalorian background, it now doubled as a place for Ayoven to train and prepare for fights. Pulling off her black waitress uniform, the young redhead dressed in the minimalistic athletic wear and light armor she wore for every bout. The armor did not give much protection, depending on the wearer's speed and agility to protect against injury, but it was enough for her purposes. When Adaran had first started teaching her to fight, he tried teaching her the Mandalorian way, wearing heavy armor and fighting with blasters and a host of nasty technological weapons. It had soon become clear, however, that walking tank was not her style. She might never have the mindset of a dancer, but you don't just forget six years of practice and training, no matter how forced.

Once her armor was on and adjusted Ayoven walked over to a table containing various weapons and picked up a short metal rod, slightly longer than her forearm, with a nasty-looking arrangement of wires and emitters taking up about half of its length; a Merr-son shock baton. Shock batons were generally reserved for police and security forces, but since lethal weapons were prohibited in Adaran's ring, they were one of the most effective tools of destruction available. This she slid into her belt, before pulling on a set of reinforced combat gloves. Now, she was ready.

Meanwhile, up in the bar proper Adaran was face to face with the suspicious individual he had told Ayoven to keep an eye on. And he was attempting conversation.

"She is?" Adaran replied to the man, looking towards the child chowing down on one of his signature burgers, "Bantha Blaster is a drink my friend. I don't see any cups over there, though I am certainly willing to rectify that." Keeping his cool, Adaran slid the cup he had poured containing the fizzy drink towards the man's hand. Then, he took a good look at him. There was nothing overall strange in the man's appearance, though he was certainly more slender than his general clientele. Still, there was something about him he couldn't quite place. Was he a cop? It was certainly possible. But, he had helped the man in the alley, and come to think of it Adaran could use someone who knew something about medicine. True, if he was a cop than bringing him down to the ring wouldn't be very smart, but what better way to be sure than to bring him in then see where he went?

"Say friend," he started, "I could use someone with your talents for making people feel better. Tonight only, and I'll pay for your trouble."

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Finley Dawson"]

 

[Charlie Nooran]

Charlie watched as Finley left her at the table. Frowning, she wondered what he meant by age appropriate. In some sectors she was considered an adult! Shaking her head, she continued to eat the burger and look around. Knowing Finley, he was going to be lingering a bit at the bar – which was going to leave her parched. Either way, she decided to do some people watching.

Munching on one of her fries, she looked around and made a note of all those that were around her. There had to be more going on at this place than the drinks and the food. She remembered the poor guy that got booted by the red headed waitress. Remembering the woman, Charlie looked around more frantically – where had she really gone? The padawan assumed she had to step out maybe for a break or something – but it felt like it had been too long.

She finished the fries and the last few bites of her burger, she looked and watched the bartender talk to Finley, she fought the urge to wander over. So instead she just stared hard into the back of Finley’s head.

@Ayoven @Finley Dawson

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Coruscant. She’d spent her fair share of time on the planet that was once the spiritual and practical home of the Jedi. Back when there was broadly speaking one Order. One Code.

Operating in a devolved capacity, Lilla was part Guardian, part Consular, part negotiator and part Warden. Her life consisted of training Padawans and undertaking missions – much like most Jedi had for thousands of years. Sometimes the assignment was specific and other times more fluid. Like now.

Head to the Lucky Strike and keep your wits about you.

That was it. No more and no less. Lilla was used to such guidance – or rather, lack of it. There would have been a tip-off. Unsubstantiated and could end up being a false trail. But making it an open brief allowed the Jedi to enter with an open mind.

Lilla side-stepped the man that exited the cantina with impetus that suggested he was not under his own steam. And before Lilla even considered intervening, a young woman exited the bar, bottle in hand. She returned, flaming red hair flowing – minus the bottle, fragments of which the man was now wearing. Was it a flagrant piece of law-breaking? Possibly. Was it worth blowing her cover for? Definitely not.

So, she lowered the hood of her cloak, drew it close to her, so as to hide the saber and shoto at her side, and walked in.

The inside was as expected. Not the most run-down place Lilla had ever visited, but not the most upmarket either. She found a spot in a booth, ordered a beer that she didn’t touch, and waited. She closed her eyes momentarily and allowed the Force to flow through her. There were no obvious warnings issuing from the galactic energy source, so she relaxed. And observed. Her eyes rarely moved from the table in front of her, her hand occasionally picking up the glass and returning it to the table. But in her mind, she had mapped the location with the aid of the Force. The immediate bar area and the rooms beyond.

Something was going to happen. And soon. The ‘what’, Lilla had no idea of – but she could be patient. She disposed of her drink discretely and ordered another – it didn’t pay to draw attention to yourself through not drinking.

And she waited.

[member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Finley Dawson"] [member="Charlie Nooran"] [member="Lilla Syrin"]

As the various patrons carried out their individual actions in the bar above, the underground arena was growing livelier by the minute. Beneath the very feet of the Force-users, thugs and tough guys and gals from a plethora of races and backgrounds were jamming themselves into a tiny room, at the center of which was a caged arena, old bloodstains still visible on its metal surface. Adaran's Ring, as the place was called, was the biggest hub of underworld gladiatorial combat for several sectors, matched only by the Outlander Club. Adaran had run it ever since he gave up bounty hunting too many years before to be worth counting, and it had a fearsome reputation for fights getting bloody despite a ban on "lethal" weaponry.

It was into this ring that Ayoven was preparing to enter. She had been fighting in gladiatorial games ever since she was seventeen, when Adaran, forever the warrior, had agreed to escalate the self-defense training he had mandated after taking her in. Her reputation was almost as fearsome as that of the ring itself, but that didn't mean there weren't always new challengers waiting for a chance to take on the fabled "Red Maiden". It was said that she'd never lost a gladiatorial match; tonight, the challenger known as the Reaver, self-proclaimed "Butcher of Ord Mantell", aimed to break that streak.

Before the games could really get started, however, they needed their announcer. Up in the bar, a red light beneath the bar flashed brightly in Adaran's peripheral vision.

"Sorry pal," he said to the man before him, cutting off the conversation, "I gotta dash. You decide to accept my offer, head through that doorway. The bouncer will let you through." With that, Adaran left the bar, activating an ancient service droid in the corner to take care of the few patrons that had not yet joined the festivities below.