How I Could Just Kill a Man

[Ettagar Veir]

Ettagar Veir was a simple man; he had layers, but they were simple layers.

Like for instance, he hated cold. Being cold, that is. He loved snow, and warm blankets, and women warming him up all sorts of naughty ways, but in essence, he didn't like cold very much. So why, why, had Fidavar thought it was a good idea that he go and watch the mark for a schedule and habits was beyond his admittedly above average intellect. He took another harsh drag from his cigarra, and sighed out a billows of smoke.

Oh sure, he enjoyed his job. It called for excitement, planning, skill, and a number of other things that he had found lacking in his regular schooling and advanced schooling prospects. But this part, arguably the most boring part, was made interminably worse by the fact that it was cold. He hated cold.

____________________________

Sometime in the not so distant past...

All it took was a quick peek around the edge of the building. Most people didn't really care when students skipped school; especially in their area of town. Half of the student body worked in the local factories or whatnot during the week anyway. So compound the average attention-span of a teenage-boy (seventeen years and eight months, to be exact), and add a liberal dose of motivationless intelligence, and we have a bored little puppy. Or two, in this case.

Ettagar and Fidavar Veir were ambling their way down the streets to the space-port of their city, to meet a mutual friend of theirs and his elder brother, who was part of a small time locally based smuggling ring. They didn't do enough business in the really big stuff to catch anyone's eye, but it was still a rough turf for someone to belong to, especially if they were looking for 'advancement', as it were.

It took them nearly a half an hour to find the right landing-pad, as one or both got side-tracked along the way by a number of useless and easily forgotten things. But they had made it, and in more than enough time for their hosts.

"Fid, Ed!" Acchi Revens said with a wide grin. Ettagar gave a small, but still perturbed grin.

"Why does ev'ryone always say your name first, I wonder," he grumbled. Fidavar just grinned and waved back to Acchi.

"I'd like ta introduce ya to my older brother, Fern. He's been away for a while, and is back in town for a little bit to get supplies and stuff like that." Fidavar and Ettagar shook the man's hand in turn. The older young man gave them both considering glances as they did so.

"Nice to meet ya," the twenty-something year old said. "As the kid said, the name's Fern. Fern Revens."

"Nice ta meetcha," Ettagar said, looking with naked curiosity at Fern's blaster pistol. Fern noted his gaze and grinned in pride. A blaster pistol was a wizard thing to have in any case.

"Wanna take a look?" Fern offered, drawing out the pistol with a flourish and offering it to the young man. Ettagar took it with a grin, and sighted down it at the far wall, away from everyone. "Take a few shots," Fern prodded, feeling generous. "It doesn't matter."

Ettagar grinned and bit his lower lip as he closed one eye and sighted. Three shots and two seconds later, and the design of a reclining man offering a seat to young lady (once part of a city initiative to beautify the less fortunate areas of the city; however, due to lack of funds from those who it affected the most, it was never finished) on the wall just got much more lewd and suggestive. Fern whistled.

"Good shootin, Ed was it?" he asked. 'Ettagar,' he replied, but was ignored. "Never seen someone take to it as quickly as you did."

Acchi rolled his eyes. "These guys are the local lazy geniuses, bro," he scoffed. "They get most things right the first time, and are never wrong a second. It's gettin' them to try something the first time that's the hard part."

Ettagar didn't reply, but just handed the blaster to Fidavar, who hefted the weight in his hand, and took aim.

"Watch this," he said with a grin. He took aim with the blaster pistol, but never managed to take the shot.

"Well, look what we have here," came an oily voice from the entrance to the landing bay. The owner of the voice was human; obviously a smuggler by the look of him, and behind him were a couple of Rodians and Humans, all packing heat. "Brought some friends did ya, Fernie? Well, that's too bad."

He smirked. "Yer steppin' on our turf, Fernie. I thought we had this discussion before, but apparently you need another lesson." His hand drifted down to the blaster holstered at his hip. The Rodians already had their blasters in their hands, but pointed at the ground still.

"Just have yer friend toss the blaster over here, and we won't hurt ya too bad; got it?"

[Harlequin]

OOC: I take it this thread is open. If not - PM me and I will delete my post. H.

IC:


Alex had not planned to be out tonight. Had not planned even be planet-side and out at all in this forsaken cold snap of weather. But the best laid plans...or however that saying went. Her old Jedi Master had been fond of the proverb, and others like it, but Coal couldn't quite remember how it went. Not that it mattered - she'd forgotten alot of what her old Master had said, which was understandable given that she'd been so young at the time that he'd said it, and that she'd not really paid him the attention he'd deserved..
She'd not done alot of things she should have back then. Or since, for that matter. But she was working on it. She was. Only, making this detour had slowed her progress a little. She'd tried to keep "jedi" about the whole thing, not losing patience when Barton Henning and her had, of necessity, parted ways; not lost patience when the transport she was on had customs trouble and had been forced to dock and be searched top to bottom..Ugh, the inconvenience of it all. She'd tried to keep calm, peaceful, but found her old nature was a force of its own. And it was frelling COLD.

Her hands shoved into her coat pockets, her head tucked turtle down into her collar, Alex - or Harlequin to anyone who asked - briskly made her way down the dark street, her determined strides that of a woman with somewhere to be, some one to see. Alex needed a new mode of transport...and with no real means (in other words, no real credits) of obtaining one was in truth walking on faith, hoping to bump into something akin to opportunity.

Looking at her bleak surroundings, Coal took a deep breath and reminded herself, trying to shut out the bitter chill..."remain jedi...jedi.."

[Jesimae Lawson]

Bored. That was what she really was, for the moment. She had grown tired of sitting around doing nothing but people watch and smoke cigarettes, but then again it turned out to be another variation of the activity as she laid on the roof of the unnamed building eyes gazing through a lens, cigarette hanging out of one side of her lip. Again, she was bored.

Jesimae had been through a lot, especially with the death of her brother and a few other important people in her life, and was on the track to regaining a normal life, but old habits died hard, someone once stated. She never once thought she would be laying on a rooftop holding a sniper rifle and peering out the magnification lens watching people unsuspectingly waltz on by on the streets below. Did they know that their life was suddenly in her hands if they passed through her line of vision? Did they ever stop to think if someone was watching them? She wasn't being philosophical, heavens she would never do such a thing, but it did give her a purpose for continuing her glances and fishing through the crowds of people who passed by to find her prey, not like she was actually going to go through with it! Or was she?

Oh, she was playing mind games with even herself and she didn't care that this was probably the most ignorant thing to be doing on a day like today, especially when it was this cold. She was a wanted man, or woman if you wanted to be equal, and there she was pressing her luck by staring down the barrel of an old DC-15x sniper rifle that she had purchased a while back for her immense gun collection. It had been used for the clone sharpshooters of the Galactic Republic, but of course modified for her own personal use.

Jesimae glanced up away from the magnifier and frowned softly to glance at the people walking on by unaware of her presence, she lifted her gloved hand and pulled the cigarette out of her mouth to blow a line of smoke and to get a sharp cool breath in before going back to her hunting game. Oh yes, habits did die hard.

[Fidavar Veir]

Fidavar Veir was a simple man; he had layers, but they were simple layers.

For instance: The ego. It needed a good stroking now and again. There were other things that needed stroking, too, that in turn stroked said ego and Fidavar was all for those earned pleasures at the beginning, middle and end of the day - whenever the opportunity struck. It was a pleasure, then, for him to best Ettagar on a bet.

'Cold? It'll build y'character, Ed. (Geds only know y'need sum...) Stop ya whingein' and whinin'. A bet's a bet.'

It was times like this that he thoroughly enjoyed his job. The sick little pleasures he got out of even his brother's misfortune. It didn't matter that he'd be hearing about it from that whiny little tralk later. Schadenfreude was a delightful pasttime.


***


'Just have yer friend toss the blaster over here, and we won't hurt ya too bad; got it?'

Fidavar's snarky grin faded and his brow quirked upward at the threatening undertone to the string of otherwise meaningless - to him - words, and just as quickly as the grin had vanished was it replaced by a much cockier expression. One that stiffened when he turned, his hands falling, blaster still cupped within from his aiming to spy a man looking to be a smuggler (or at least attempting to look like one, he mused in his head) backed by a half-and-half of two Rodians (how utterly typical) and two Humans all carting around pain in the form of blasters. The Rodians were already out and armed, which looked entirely presumptuous - not to mention ridiculous- against a group of kids with only one blaster. The Humans seemed to hang back, as if waiting for something, waiting to be wanted or needed to do their jobs.

Finally, after moments of postulating and the demanding, oddly chiding words falling on his selectively deaf teenage ears, Fidavar wanted badly for the cigarra tipped behind his right ear... but thought better of it, knowing he'd want it more after this dren was done with. Pleasures when appropriate, and there was no more an appropriate time than after accomplishments or before a hefty beatdown, the latter of which he had not intention of letting happen. His eyes shifted from the intruders into his field of vision, to Ettagar (who was giving him a rather similar look of ridiculous amusement in return) and back with a firm sense of purpose in what he was about to do.

"Pard'n me, sars, while I light this here smoke nesting on me ear. Since I s'pose we're all gonna meet our end here, might as well give ye a head start, hmm?"

Taking note of the sudden confused looks on the faces of the other party, Fid slipped the cigarra from his ear and poised it barely between his lips, all with the hand unoccupied by the blaster he had defiantly decided not to drop, and lit with the very same hand. he drew in a long breath - and looking rather like he was enjoying the experience - then exhaled just as slowly before retrieving the lit cigarra from his mouth, and looking on the smuggler and his henchmen again.

"Better, thank ye sars. Now... let me ask ye somethin'." He sucked back again on the smoke, and continued, looking all nonchalant about the whole thing.

'Make it quick, runt.' The smuggler bit. So impatient. Tsk, tsk.

"I dinna s'pose you've seen yer name scribed anywheres on the duracrete 'round here, did ye? So what's this 'me tarf' dren, eh?"

That cocky grin crept up on his mouth again, the cigarra now clenched between his teeth, lightly billowing out smoke.

"Ye got me an answer, big boy?" He prodded.

[Ettagar Veir]

As later reported by Ettagar Veir at Mermaid's Gentleman's Club:

"Well, ye see, while Fid had 'em all foc'ssed-like on 'im, I knew that he were only o' us ta have a blaster. Naw, I couldn't let tha' injustice carry on a second longer. But, before I could do anythin', the smuggler guy, he answers Fid: 'Jes' cause ye have a blaster, don't make ye a man, boy. Gimme the blaster, an ye migh' live te become one.'"

(The girl in his lap gasps.)

"No, while 'twas the wittiest comment 'e made tha' night, me and Fid weren'a scared 'tall. 'E was just posturin', ye get me, dearie? 'E weren't expectin' that we'd not be scared of 'im. Fid said somethin' back, but by that time, I was on me way round the side, behind some crates and the like 'til I was right behind a Rodian, so I weren't payin' attention. Whate'er he said, it got 'em right riled up so they dinna even see me comin' round."

(Ettagar walks his hand across the table using his middle and index fingers in a drunken example of how he snuck, using ale bottles as makeshift crates. It gets amused smirks and laughs from around the table.)

"Now, Fid saw me gettin' ready to grab the Rodian, so he says, 'Now, no need to start insultin' me. I was only pointin' out that ye were spoutin' rubbish--"

(Someone asks, "What about Acchi and Fern, eh? Did they just up an' die, or something?")

"Eh? Oh no, Acchi was sadly 'bout ready faint it seemed to me. Fern, well, he looked madder than a Ranc'r 'ats lost its meal. But 'e wern't about ta do anythin' while he wasn't armed, eh? So..."

(Ettagar blinks, having lost his place in the story. The girl reminds him.)

"Ah! That's right, thank ye! So, Fid tells 'im that he's a nancy, goin' 'round and threatenin' people like e's someone important when he really don't matter 'tall. Well, I grab the Rodian 'round the neck with me arm, and aim 'is arm at his buddies while he squeezes off a shot in s'prise. Got one of 'em in the arm, an' he an' the other Rodian start shootin' the poor thing, tryin' ta get at me. Acchi got hit right off, in the chest, poor lad; Fern jumped behind one o' the struts of his ship ta get away from the bolts flyin' 'round. Fid started tradin' shots with the leader an one o' the humans. I was tryin' ta grab the dead Rodian's blaster without gettin' me hand shot off in the process..."

[Jesimae Lawson]

And so the day went, stalking, smoking, and now for a perfect day...a little gambling. She had moved from her perch on top of that roof and had put her obvious weaponry up into her small hideaway in a lock box nearby. Concealed weapons were her favorite when taking her life into dangerous territory just to fuel her love for the game of stealing other peoples money. She wandered about the streets that were lively and bright, her heart never once had left this place when she moved away to Naboo for a while, sad her past had followed her to the pleasant planet, but at least she was back into her realm of comfort and preferred danger.

Jesimae shivered against the cold wind, a leather jacket the only thing truly keeping out the bitter winds, although it did no good since she favored keeping it open. She was searching for a good time, a good pack of smokes, and a good adrenaline rush. If she played her cards right she might have gotten laid, but she wasn't really sure she wanted to include that in her dangerous liaison as of yet. She was somewhat lonely, but she had always been a loner, but it didn't mean she was completely dead and void of all emotions. She missed the human touch, but she figured she'd start small. Perhaps if she murdered someone like she had back in the day she might begin to get more bold. As of now, she sighed, she would settle for the companionship of other gamblers.

[Ettagar Veir]

The Present

Ettagar lit up another cigarra and grimaced lightly as he watched the mark move out of the street-side café.

He non-chalantly pulled out his datapad, and sent a message to Fidavar:

1430 hours: Mark is leaving café. No sign of competitors. He's headed into the building.

The building was what they had called this planet's version of Imperial Centre's 500 Imperica; in other words, where all the important people lived and often worked as well. It had taken some working, but Fid was situated in a nice little suite in a building across the way from their mark's own living quarters; he was "masquerading" as a Black Sun connected man. It had taken a few favours (large ones, but not too big; this wasn't Imperial Centre after all, so the hotel wasn't relatively expensive; besides, while they weren't big names like Kazaar or Fett, the underworld was largely aware of the talented men-for-hire and that they were good on their jobs, if a bit indiscreet about execution), but the arrangements were made, and they had a room prepped for them when they had arrived, with no questions asked about their luggage.

Sliding the datapad back into his pocket, he took another drag from his smoke, and exhaled. He kept his eyes on the mark as he entered into the building, and turned to make his way back to the hotel they were staying in for the moment. Or at least he tried to.

"Oof!" he watched his half-finished cigarra tumble from his fingers onto the dirty snow covered ground in horror. "Why dontcha watch were you're--helllo there!"

A very pretty woman was standing there looking a bit cross with him. He didn't mind at all, as long as she didn't move. Was she crazy, wearing an open leather jacket in this weather? If she was, please gods, don't let her get her mind back anytime soon!

"I'm pretty cross about how my cigarra warn't finished, but I've got more, an' I'll drop 'em all if it means I'm bumpin' inte you a few more times," he said, not hiding his admiration as he pulled another smoke from the pack in his pocket and lit it quickly with the small torch. He grinned, and offered her a cigarra (his favourite kind, slightly flavoured and wrapped in brown paper; and best of all, filterless!).

"M'names Ettagar Veir, pretty lady," he said, by way of introduction, all of a sudden feeling quite benevolent to his brother, may he be blessed by the gods.

[Jesimae Lawson]

A sharp pain ran through her chest, but she didn't mind, a small price to pay when one hadn't felt that kind of a rush in a while. Her eyes went from the mans feet, to the fading cherry of a smoke that was half finished. The snow melted around it, but it was to no avail, the smoke was ruined. Pity. Her eyes flashed up and she met a quite interesting looking man. Not quite hot, yet not quite handsome. Perhaps...mysteriously attractive? Oh she was very bad at forming normal thoughts at the moment, her brain still a bit cross with her inability to find some legitimate fun. A few moments passed as a few words were exhaled from the mans lips. Sad how she looked there first as if they were some luscious forbidden fruit one was to never notice, or touch. Luckily she never was one to follow rules.

She cocked an eyebrow as she studied the man and a small grin tugged at her lips. He was a smooth talker and she slightly liked it, her heart actually raced for a few moments. Jesimae lifted her chin and plucked a cigarra that the man had offered and put it in between her lips, watching him as he introduced himself and waiting for the end to be lit. If this man now played his cards right...the rewards could have been endless.

[Ettagar Veir]

Well, by the Emp'ror's Black Bones, she's interested!

Ettagar put the pack back into his pocket. Using the chill wind as an excuse, he wordlessly stepped closer to the woman and lit the cigarra with a flick of his thumb and using his other hand to protect the flame from sputtering. When he was finished, he didn't immediately step away, but let his grin widen as he watched her take a nice drag on the smoke.

"So?" he prodded, grin finally blooming into a full-fledged smirk. "Do I hafta ask fer yer name again, or will I have to keep calling y' Goddess?"

Yeah, it was cliché, and he knew it. And he made sure she knew he knew that it was; hopefully, a stab at humour (which was always a great ice-breaker) would get her talking so he could get to know more about her.

[Jesimae Lawson]

Oh sweet nectar of life, the cloud of smoke that she so seductively inhaled tasted like sex, if that was plausible. She blew out a thick line, the cold enhancing the cloud that whirled around the two, and licked her lips to taste what might have been left. She smirked at him after he spoke and she softly furrowed her brow as she brought the tip of the cigarra to her mouth to quickly take another draw. As she held it in for a few seconds longer than intended, suspense always making a moment like this more gratifying for her, she softly blew it back out again.

"You didn't ask." She stated simply, raising an eyebrow keeping her grin mischievous as possible. "Since you found out my true identity," She laughed lightly and sighed out as she gave in and allowed a small shiver. "For prosperity's sake, you can call me Jesimae. Jesimae Lawson." She took another drag watching the man who was quite close to her.

"Nice." She said complimenting the cigarra she held in her hand.

[Harlequin]

It was getting colder. At least, it felt like it was. Probably seemed that way because Alex hadnt had anything to eat for about eight hours and no fuel was making it harder for her body to compensate against the chill. Or maybe, it was just getting colder.

Tired and feeling a little dejected by her present circumstances - no food, no creds, no transport as yet off this rock - Coal quit fighting logic and began to seek out a warm, safe place to pass the inevitable arrival of night. It was yet mid-afternoon and she still had time to look for other options, but finding a place to hunker down was easier done in the light of day and this became her new priority.

A glance to check for oncoming traffic, and the young Jedi jay-walked across the street to espy out some of the more ill-repaired buildings that lined its length.

It didnt take long until she found one that looked promising and, stepping quickly inside, took the (shaky) elevator up to the top floor. From there, she took the stairway that led up to the roof, slipping through a side door on the middle landing which took her into an attic or...maybe it was a maitenance room. Which ever it was, it was occupied. And a quick once-over convinced Alex the man inside, lounging with his back propped against one wall with his legs stretched out and feet crossed at the ankles, was not the janitor.

"Oh" she said, for lack of anything wittier or....normal...to say.

[Ettagar Veir]

Ettagar grinned, unabashed at the fact that he had forgotten to ask her name.

"Well, fergive me fer bein' distracted that I didn't ask yer name," he said, "Miss Lawson, but I tend to get so when beautiful women appear before me eyes."

The wind began to blow again, chill and biting to him, and he was dressed in a serviceable coat and gloves. While he enjoyed looking at Jesimae quite very much, he didn't want the potential this night was holding to go down the drain due to a sickness. She needed to warm up.

Despite Jesimae's almost bewitching presence, Ettagar had kept his attention on the café that served as part of the bottom floor lobby of the building. The mark hadn't yet come back down the lift, but as Fidavar was keeping an eye on the mark's abode in case he left via speeder, he still needed to keep an eye out and make sure there were no last minute deviations from the mark's habits and schedule. In short, if the mark were aware that he was being watched and 'tagged' and he tried to run, Ettagar was to scrap secrecy and take him out. He hoped he wouldn't have to do it in front of Jesimae, as it would likely ruin the evening he was hoping he'd have, as awesome as the image of him pulling the blaster from his shoulder holster would be.

"You seem a bit crazy to be wand'rin' the streets dressed like you are," he gestured to the café, and asked, "Care to have a bite t' eat with me and warm yerself up a bit?"

This way, he could flirt to his heart's contentment and watch to see if their mark was on to them.

[Jesimae Lawson]

Her grin suddenly faded as she glanced over at the cafe he gestured at and suddenly it was a bit colder than she had recalled, perhaps his presence had distracted her? She didn't mind, a bit of food would do nicely for one who hadn't eaten all day for her adventures in hunting random people, oh what odd habits she had grown accustomed to. She glanced back at the man, who surprisingly had grown more attractive than she had recalled a few moments before, and smiled.

"Sure." She stated simply, nodding her head only once before turning on her heel and pulling the cigarra to her lips tasting the toxins that made her feel euphoric, then again was it the man she now conversed with? She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and continued her grinning since she hadn't felt this rejuvinated in a while. Harmless flirting hadn't passed her way in years and she was more than ready to partake in it tonight.

"Crazy," She stated picking up on his observation on her clothing choice. "a little bit." She jokingly said. "I enjoy not making a spectacle of my apparel, I am a more...simple kind of gal." She smiled as the two started walking. Jesimae was suddenly enjoying herself far more than she had those previous hours atop the building, but she wasn't wanting to let that be known as of yet. Besides, how quick would an attractive man, with seductive tasting cigarra's, go running if he knew her pastime was pretending to be hunting a man with a high bounty on his head, let alone know that was her old job in which she planned to return to very soon.

"Speaking of dress, my dear new friend, it would only be fitting for me to comment on your manner of clothing as well. Quite simpe for this kind of weather, yeah? Layered, obviously, but they seem more suited to a chilly day not a day where at any minute snow is to be pouring down." She smiled as she posed him this question realizing his eyes were drawn heavily to the cafe a few feet ahead almost as if he were studying it and almost as if he were searching for the answer to why they even existed. She took note and moved on, quickly using her own flirting technique of hooking her arm inside of his own.

"Need a strong attractive chaperon to help walk a little girl across the street." She teased.

[Ettagar Veir]

He never answered her about the clothing, but his eyes flitted back to her and stayed there. Most of the job would be done inside, and he didn't need lots of clothing or sweat to get in his way during a crucial moment.

He almost thought he could feel her hand through the coat and against the skin of his arm. He took an extra strong drag from his smoke to keep himself from thinking about it too much.

"Need a strong attractive chaperone to help walk a little girl across the street."

"Well then," he said with an easy smile and an outpouring of steamy breath and cancerous smoke, "Let's go."

They made it across the thoroughfare in short order, and then into the warmer, climate-controlled café/lobby of the building. He pulled the seat out for her, and sat down himself, making sure he was facing the turbo-lifts, and had easy access to the front doors.

"So," he asked, "What brings ya here on a day like today?"

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae glared at him for a moment before adverting her eyes to the place they now sat. It was cozy, to say the least, she hadn't really been in a cafe in quite some time. Had she even been in one before? She let her own mental questions pass as she brought her eyes back to his own, a small stir inside of her stomach made her smile and she made sure to be shy about fully smiling, a cute flirty grin would be enough.

"Well," She began in responding to his posed question, taking her time to pick her words wisely. "I like the weather." She joked. "Also, I grew tired of...people watching. I just ran out of smokes and I was hoping to find a little adult fun." She tilted her head and smiled a bit wider. "In adult fun I mean, of course, gambling." She bit her lower lip after a small pause and leaned forward towards him.

"And how about you Mister Veir, hmm? You don't seem to be the loner type. Wandering around the city smoking cigarettes and bumping into poor unsuspecting women a thing you do often?" She teased. "I surely doubt you are the type of man who goes home alone at night. Or...am I wrong?"

[Fidavar Veir]

1430 hours: Mark is leaving café. No sign of competitors. He's headed into the building.

The message came to light on the datapad in his left hand, that handsome left hand, as his ego would urge. Here he was, damn well warm enough and not exactly where he should be. Not that it mattered. The window here sat low enough, and the sunglasses he wore interesting enough to get a close enough scope from the higher-up vantage point- higher up than the suite assigned to him. He didn't care, didn't give a womprat's back-end. Something as conspicuous as a tidy room where room service or housekeeping could just come a-knockin' unnerved him. But that was the way things were, iddn't that the way.

Craning his head over the sill of the low-hung window, he got a good look outside from that spot. Not anything to be seen from ground level, but the faces of the buildings on this side of the street were flat enough (if a little dilapidated, in some cases) that Fidavar had an skyhook view down to the street. After a few moment's glance, he would settle back against the wall, and roll the smoldering ciggara in his lips back and forth, back and forth near the corner of his mouth. Occassionally, he'd clench it with his teeth, skillfully flick the stacking ash with the tip of his tongue, and finger the trigger guard of the DL-44 blaster pistol close at hand on the floor of this dusty and rarely touched attic area. Then another glance at the datapad, looking over the latest news from Ettagar, then back to the 'light reading' loaded behind that.

It was then, after what must have been his thousandth peek-check, that the door creaked and his ears perked, his eyes jumping up from the datapad, which he quite suddenly set aside. When the door opened fully, and into the space spilled light outlining a feminine form, the instinctual action was one and the same, regardless the intruder or welcome form. The young lady (Chance, small chance she's that much older than meself...) found herself under the very sudden watch of the previously mentioned ranged weapon.

"Who ye be? And what jolly little pestilence sent ya?" He queried, a hefty load of confidence underlying his words.

The handsome, well suited man who appeared rather out of place, sucked back on the cigarra and flicked off more ash, handsfree. A small smile, appreciative of the feminine form, tugged at the corners of his cigarra-occupied mouth. From his seated, stretched out, cross-legged place, he spoke a second time, before the girl had a chance to start.

"Speak now, missy. Speak quickly. And don't ye think of tryin' a single funny thing, as I'll have nary a qualm with pullin' a shot on you... or plenty more if ye persist."

[Harlequin]

It was clear he'd surprised her by the repeated, "Oh" she uttered. Looking suddenly down the business end of a DL-44 had been the last thing she'd expected when walking through the door. She probably should have 'probed' with the force or something...but that was just another lesson she'd have to learn at a later date, should she ever make it to the dang stupid Jedi secret hideyplace. Right now, she realised she'd interupted something and by the look on the man's face threatening her, she was as unwanted as she was unexpected.

"No need to be hasty there, friend" Alex said as unprovoking as possible. "I've just misjudged my way." She began to take a slow step back, her wary brown eyes never leaving his, "I'll just leave you to your business, if you dont mind."

[Fidavar Veir]

Her unease was noticeable. And the things that usually gave him a clue that someone was dumping a load of dren on his head were missing. It was quite possible she was telling the truth, and he was more than intelligent enough to know the difference. And careful - she was already trying to leave. And did he intend to let a pretty face like that turn tail without so much as a 'Hello, Deary'?

No. Certainly not.

Smiling warmly, convincigly, Fidavar Veir lowered the blaster just a titch, and eyed her questioningly. Then he lowered the weapon completely, shoved it into a shoulder holster and looped it into place, sliding it up from where it'd been hanging off his elbow.

"No need t'be leavin', missy. I beleive ya." And he began to pick himself up from the dusty floor of the disused room, brushing himself off in the process. She seemed to pause in the doorway, the light illuminating the outline of her form. The cigarra smoldered continuously, loosely from between his lips. The moderate-sized case sitting under the window remained untouched. The backlight on the datapad dimmed from where it sat on the floor. Fid plucked the cigarra, which was at its end, from his mouth, and put it out on the resilient material the shoulder holster was made of. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, and fished out a tin, only to put the butt inside, and replace the thin tin to where it had been. Then, and only then, did he focus his attention completely on the sight, which was honestly much too beautiful to brush off or ignore completely.

"Now, tell me. What is it ye be doin' here, a pretty darlin' like yourself?"

[Harlequin]

Here was a charmer, no mistake about that. Alex read it easily in the man's smile, his body language. Smooth.
He looked like he didn't have a particular beef with her at the moment, and Coal planned to keep it that way.

Judging by the transient signs of his occupancy in this room, she wondered if he'd not prefer to go and leave her to it instead.

"Im looking for somewhere to sleep the night" she answered with typical frankness. "I dont suppose you'll be heading off anytime soon will you?"
She didn't care why he was there, his reasons could keep to himself. "This looks like a decent enough spot to pass the night. Long as the door will lock.."

She wouldn't make that mistake atleast.

[Ettagar Veir]

Ettagar gave a lazy grin, looking over Jesimae in a much more enjoyable climate than the cold outside. Adult fun is, of course, gambling eh? In that case, he'd been an adult since starting secondary; though it wasn't likely she was talking about small time stuff, neither was he. At fifteen, he'd worked out the pod-races on Malastare and made a hefty profit; there was a story in there, but that would wait until later.

"I surely doubt you are the type of man who goes home alone at night. Or...am I wrong?"

Keeping the lazy grin in place, Ettagar shrugged his indifference. "Sometimes I do, then again sometimes I don't," he said. "Question o' circumstance, y'see. Sometimes, I find a pretty woman t'be refreshin'. Sometimes, a pretty woman's distractin'. Got a job ta do, after all."

The menus popped up on the table in front of him and her, and picking his up, he took a good look at the turbo-lifts. He chose a simple little sandwich and a soft drink, but waited until she made her order to put his menu down.

"Yer a gambler, Miss Jesimae?" he said, turning the conversation back to her. "I wonder which forms of gambling suit yer fancy? Are ya a card-player, or do ye bet on the pod-races? Or neither?"

[Jesimae Lawson]

She smiled, brighter on the inside of course considering there wasn't enough room on her face to show the enticing conversation was suited towards her liking. She glanced away for her own benefit before she started to become lazy in her actions and make it more obvious than most that they shared the same tastes. Loving and leaving were just some of her talents to say the least, but she didn't want to come on too strong.

"Hmm..." She softly groaned in response to his question, maybe, but her eyes stayed on the menu before picking a small club sandwich and water. She watched him do the same and the menus went away and she was more inclined to continue this very adult conversation.

A smile pursed her lips and a bit of playfulness shimmered in her eyes. She was enjoying herself far too much and she was almost a bit bummed when she began thinking of when this might end,or if it even had to. Her smile grew a bit broader after a little thought of that degree and she figured she was taking too long in answering his question. She drew in a breathe and leaned forward a bit and lifted her chin.

"I gamble on a lot, Mister Ettagar." She grinned momentarily. "I enjoy a good game of cards every now and then, I love a fair, and even unfair, pod race or two," She paused a moment as she bit her lip and looked at him, she was daring herself to say it and she always did love to say what was on her mind..."I also enjoy gambling on my odds of whether or not I will be spending the night alone or......with someone else." She leaned back after saying these words and glanced around as if it were normal conversation, but she still felt a tense attraction towards the man and was enjoying the rise she was giving herself. The only question remained...was she giving him such a rise?

[Ettagar Veir]

Ettagar wanted to say, "Frell the job; bedroom, now!"

But he didn't say it, as much as he wanted to. He had a bit more self-control than that. It was a very enticing thought. Today was important, though. It was the last day of reconnaissance; the mark had a planet-side schedule going for the next few days, and wasn't even slated to leave the city. They'd be performing the job tomorrow, if all went well today.

Instead of saying what he really wanted, he grinned widely, and replied to the woman.

"That's," he paused, seeming to gather himself from Jesimae's very forward statement, "that's somethin' I frequently lay odds on meself, Miss Jesimae."

Their drinks arrived. Ettagar took a sip of his drink, and blazed on to the heart of the matter. "I was wonderin' what yeh think yer odds are as to that now. Me own odds were a bit low as to me desire for a companion tonight, but now..."

He grinned and took another sip from his soft drink.

"...Now, I find meself quite a bit more recept've ta the idea."

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae grinned as she took a drink from her water and glanced around then finding the man in front of her. She shrugged her left shoulder a bit lazily as to not seem too interested despite her burning desire to just take him to the nearest room now. She bit her lower lip as to staunch the idea, despite it being very tempting.

"Well then," She said as she leaned forward towards him, "I find myself betting very high on the matter." She winked and leaned back and furrowed her brow, questions of his intentions not quite on her mind but rather what he was doing wandering the streets at this late hour.

"Might I ask, Ettagar, what exactly you do for a living? I keep seeing your eyes flash around the room every now and then and I must admit it makes me wonder if you are perhaps looking for someone, or am I incorrect on my hypothesis?" She raised an eyebrow and almost hoped for an answer that led her to believe she could see something amazing go down, it wasn't uncommon for bounty hunters of the like to wander around aimlessly waiting for a hit, after all she was just waiting for an opportunity to find someone to take her grudges out on.

"I am not as innocent as I look, I find great thrills in dangerous people for i consider myself quite the prodigal hunter."

[Fidavar Veir]

Fidavar raised one eyebrow, then another, then lowered both and smiled, posing hands on his hips and turning his gaze to look at a wall a moment. So she was looking for somewhere to stay, in from the cold of night, away from the sight of whatever she might be hiding from. He had suggestions of his own about where to sleep, as he always would with a beautiful woman, and it was quite tempting, the possibility just standing there.

"Sleep, hm?" He ran the tip of his tongue along the roof of his mouth, clacked it, turning his face back to her. "Are ye sure ye wouldn't mind a wee bit o'company for awhile?"

It wouldn't hurt to ask. And she didn't seem the type to get vicious on him, plus the fact that there was no discernable silhouette or bump from a weapon hiding on her person from what he could tell. Besides, if Ettagar was gallavanting around with a pretty gal, he didn't see the harm in it, either.

[Harlequin]

"Company's fine" Alex agreed, her emphasis on the word company, for obvious reasons. The man had a smile that could charm a Nexu from her dinner. Speaking of..."It'd be even better if that company had some food to share" she said with a ghost of a smile. "Dont s'pose I'd be that lucky...?"

[Ettagar Veir]

"Lookin' fer someone?" Ettagar repeated, his grin widening into a smile. "Now, how d'ye know I'm not jus' bein' paranoid?" He paused and raised his eyebrows, conveying an attitude that was anything but paranoid.

"But me job, well, tha's got te remain a secret fer now, Miss Jesimae," he continued. "Very hush-hush, ye see. Can't go jus' tellin' ev'ryone 'bout what I do, else I wouldn't be able ta do me job well."

He tapped the side of his nose with his index finger and gave her a conspiratorial grin. "Though I find meself intrigued, an' wonder what exactly ye mean by 'prodigal hunter'."

[Jesimae Lawson]

It couldn't have been more obvious to her that he was doing something quite illegal, if not frowned upon and that only caused her to be more excited than she was two seconds ago, however it wasn't unnatural for her to suspect something bad was bound to happen.

For years she was a bounty hunter and did her job with utmost importance and took every job with the outlook of she wasn't going to stop until she killed somebody. She had killed a lot of men, even women, and a lot of people who were very important to the society so it was easy to imply and know that someone out there had a grudge against her and it was very well known that she was wanted for murder and had some bounties on her own head. For a split moment she wondered if her meeting with Ettagar was a sheer accident or perhaps a carefully devised plan. Now, it was easy to think that he just happened to bump into her by accident and strike up a very stimulating conversation, but she couldn't not doubt the situation entirely for she could possibly be dead in a second. Jesimae, thinking of all possibilities she decided that he was doing something wrong...but it wasn't against her.

She smiled and shifted in her seat as she glanced around to take a break from staring at his face and eyes, which she couldn't seem to stop doing since she found him quite appealing. He was her newfound eye candy and she was going to take her time enjoying every second. She titled her head to the side as she glanced back at him, biting her lower lip and biting back a grin.

"Secrets never make friends," She stated with a playful grin as she let her lower lip go from her bite. "Then again I have a few of my own." She smiled. "I am a bit apprehensive on telling you what I mean just the same as you are about telling me what it is you do." She raised an eyebrow and took a quick drink of her water before continuing. "Lets just say I find people, now you can take that one of many ways, Ettagar, but I do hope sooner or later we both can divulge in our professions in a less...formal manner." She played with the rim of her cup with her finger wondering exactly where this was going to go and how far it actually would go in the next few days. She hoped it wouldn't just end as quickly as it happened for that would put a damper on a lot of things, but even if it did she was going to get as much out of this man as she could.

[Ettagar Veir]

"I was ne'er very much one fer formalities, Miss Jesimae," he said. It seemed like sure thing at the moment; now just to get the commlink. "I'm only polite when it suits me fancy and interest."

He was about to turn the conversation to that end, when their food arrived. He used the lull in conversation - and her momentary concentration the food - to his advantage, and swept the lobby of the massive building again. A few well-dressed men and one woman had gotten off the turbolift. He knew them well, and had assigned each of their mark's bodyguards with nicknames (Rancor, Shifty, and Legs were the only ones there every day). There were ear-pieces; tell-tale bulges of blasters hidden beneath their clothing. It was still too early for the mark to be making his way anywhere. It was Legs, the only female in the group (named for her rather well formed legs, if unfortunately the rest of her was rather plain), that gave them away. And he'd given himself away in that moment as well.

He wondered who'd sold them out. It must have been Denda; the male twilek made no bones about being up for the highest bidder, and was the only one who knew of the pick-up taking place tonight. He and Fid would have to pay the dirty bugger a visit.

They swiftly retreated back into the turbolift. He stood. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Jesimae," he said with a grin. "I'll be back inne moment. There's somethin' that needs takin' care of."

Fidavar'd need to be told of the double-cross before he could make his way up and take care of the guards. At least he was sure the mark wasn't leaving the building. One hundred and fifty creds had gotten the valet to play with a few wires in the mark's speeder and stay quiet about the affair. They be figuring that out in about five minutes. More than enough time. He should be back in about seven minutes. That was cutting it close if he wanted to bag this fine, fine woman tonight, but if she was angry at him, she'd leave him with the bill, and a memory of some innuendo-laden conversation.

It was a better outcome than some nights, all told.

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae nodded in response as he stood up, what was she going to do? Tell him no? She watched him walk away and she bit her lower lip wondering what it is he was chasing. Was he working for the government? Was he rogue like she was? The excuses were endless to his actions but she didn't spend much time pondering on them in fact her com was vibrating in her pocket. She looked away not wanting to be too nosey on the situation and answered the annoyance she suddenly faced.

"Yeah?" She said into it lowly, finding Ettagar had left her line of vision for a moment. She heard the man on the other end talk to her about a bounty needing to be taken care of in a manner that looked like an accident. It was a very informal proposition, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to get a few credits under her belt, after all her friends told her they'd get her name back out there again since she had been gone for so long.

"Name the game and I'll name my price," She spoke calmly, in control of the situation as she slowly ate the meal in front of her. The man told her of a pair of brothers who had done a few bad things in their day. They wanted a quick clean death as to wipe away the wrongdoings they had apparently done to this man. She listened to him complain of how they killed his best friend and a few others and for a moment she didn't really care all she cared about was where her friend had gotten to.

"Yeah. Send me the info to my old address. I'll pick it up, read over everything, and name my price." She exited the communication knowing the less time she spent on the phone the less chances of getting caught by officials. She leaned over her plate and took another large bite from her sandwich. Wherever he went she didn't care, whatever he did in his own time...whatever. She was hungry and she liked this man far too much to just get up and leave. However long his venture took, the longer she would wait. Seductive voice, eyes, and cigarettes were enough to keep her there and if he was as dangerous as he was leading on she would stay around him as long as he'd have her. Hopefully, he would.

[Fidavar Veir]

That so...

He flashed her an almost pitying smile and scratched the side of his face, behind his ear, then returned that hand to his hip. He ignored the habitual urge to fish into his jacket for another cigarra, instead turning around to gather the datapad and case on the floor behind him.

"Well, missy..." He drew out, crouching down and reaching for the 'pad. Retrieving it, he tapped it against the palm of his other hand, humming to himself. "...I dinna bring any grub along. Figured to meself I may just head on back to me suite, then down to the hotel restaurant when the time came along."

He rose, paced three short steps to the right, and crouched again, checking the locks on the case, then shifting into a position sideways of its length to loop the shoulder strap in place. He remained in the crouch and turned his head to look at Alex again.

"Ye are most welcome to join me, missy...? I dinna believe I caught yer name." He rose to his feet, using his empty hand to make sure the strap for the case remained on his shoulder as he changed to a standing position and turned to head toward the door, where she stood.

[Harlequin]

"Harlequin" she answered.

"Harlequin" she repeated, louder, knowing he didn't catch it the first time. No one caught it the first time. She really shoulda come up with an easier name like...Clown.

She had watched him packing up his gear, he was defintely up to something untoward, but Alex didn't care. Not her business. She was just passing through - and the quicker the better. He'd stopped just opposite her, the pair of them both now standing in the doorway.

"And I'll be happy to take you up on that offer...Mr..whatsyourname?"

[Ettagar Veir]

He entered the turbolift, and once the door slid closed, he pulled out his commlink and keyed it to his brother's. He didn't need to check the blaster in his right shoulder holster, nor his shatter pistol in his right; he'd primed them before he'd gone out, having gotten properly cautious during his time as a 'go to guy' for lower echelon gangs and syndicates.

After a few seconds, his brother's face and shoulders were visible from the commlink.

"Yo, Ed, why are ye commin', ye've got yerself a lass sittin' wit' ye?"

He looked annoyed. Well, better annoyed than broke, eh?

"They're onta us, Fid," he murmured, watching as the turbolift slowed down. "I'm thinkin' Denda sold us out. Get ready fer an early pickup."

Fidavar was looking particularly angry. Ed gave him what was supposed to be an encouraging grin, but most likely came across as purely arrogant, and cut the connection without another word.

The turbolift doors slid open, and Ed was treated to the sight of the three bodyguards all aiming their blaster pistols at him. He blanched.

"Well, shite," was all he had time to say before throwing himself to the right and barely saving himself from a very messy death as Legs and her two backups started shooting. The doors closed, giving him a little breathing space.

He reached into his right shoulder holster, and brought out the shatter pistol, his pride and joy. Scanning the brief moment he'd been able to see the corridor and the three bodyguards, Ettagar pressed the open door button, and waited for another volley. None came.

Briefly waving his hand out, he pulled it back in as they began firing again. He lowered himself slowly, and waited for the lull in the firing. Just as the doors began to close, he fired, thankfully hitting the ceiling just above and behind the three, causing a rather loud explosion. He grinned, and holstering the shatter pistol, pulled out his blaster and made his way out to the bodyguards as they recovered.

"Sorry 'bout this," he called, and shot each one as they picked their heads up to look at him. Amateurs. "Jus' biz'ness, ye see."

Just to make sure, he shot them all again one more time to be sure, and then cautiously made his way down the corridor to the mark's suite; he only had a bit of time left before someone came up to investigate the explosion the shatter pistol had caused.

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae was wondering what was going on for she had been sitting there for quite some time. Normally a patient girl she wasn't one for sitting and waiting on a man whom she had no true connection or ties to. She figured that she would write him a little note, pay her half of the bill, and head on out, but something stopped her and she wasn't sure why. She figured she would wait it out, she liked this guy and she wasn't really in the mood to spend the night alone yet again, but then again she didn't know if her feelings for the guy were requited. Either way Jesimae allowed herself to wait a few more minutes.

As she did so she couldn't help but feel that something big was going on especially when she heard a few familiar noises of blaster shots. It wasn't too far away, but it wasn't very close either. Her eyes scanned the room and she noticed that several people were glancing around, perhaps to see what the noises were, but their curiousness ended quickly. Sadly, Jesimae's did not. She loved to be nosey, she enjoyed a good gunfight as well and knew that this probably had something to do with Ettagar's rather hasty disappearance. She stood up and left a large amount of credits on the table and left towards the turbolifts where she figured the shots had come from. Her excitement over gunfights and violence had grown since she left Naboo and she had a newfound love for making sure anything going on around town dealing with gunfights, she wanted to be in the middle.

She ran to a nearby lift seeing that officials were well on their way, she quickly made her way up to where the noises had ceased, sadly, holding her gun underneath her jacket just in case someone wanted a piece of her for being so damned nosey. She licked her lips as she glanced around, then back to where she saw officials sprawling over the ground below as she went higher up. Suddenly the lift stopped and the door slid open, Jesimae prepared herself for a gun in her face, and as soon as the doors slid aside her gun was drawn and nobody was there.

Jesimae frowned and was almost disappointed, but it wasn't a second later she realized the damage that had been caused both by dead men on the ground and a very messed up ceiling. A small explosion seemed to have happened and she had to give a little grin of excitement for she had hit the jackpot. Whoever did this was no amateur and was ready to kill anything that stood in his way, she loved it. She kept her blaster drawn as she stepped over a few dead bodies and over rubble that had been caused. She slowly walked down the corridor at a medium pace hoping she didn't bump into a stranger who might run off and yell for help, she did hope to run into someone who might need a helping hand.

Jesimae reached the end of the hall and looked to the right to see nothing but another hall and to the left to find a man rushing down another corridor. She frowned and looked around once more to quickly jog after the person wondering if she could figure out what was going on, maybe if he tried to shoot her she'd kill him and get some credits. She bit her lower lip as she ran after him full speed, blaster in one hand. What was life without a little exciting gun fight?

[Ettagar Veir]

Ettagar looked around at the now ostensibly empty flat. Empty of life aside from him, that is. One burly human had been actually shot off the ledge where the traitorous speeder still hovered. A couple Rodians had rounded out the mark's defensive team.

The Rodians had proven a bit difficult, but the shatter-pistol had removed one of most of its head, and the other was easy pickings while it stared at its dead comrade in shock.

His commlink beeped, signalling a call. It was (surprise surprise!) Fid again.

"Ef you'd been a wee bit more 'bservant, I'd've been able ta reach'a sooner, an' ye wouldn't 'a needed ta waste yer time fightin' innat room."

"Well 'en," Ettagar replied with annoyance, "Tell me so's I c'n rectify an' redeem meself!"

"'E an' two guards booked it fer the lifts 'n the other side o' the floor. But 'ey've been shut don, save fer a few, by 'lawful guests' don on the bottom floor. They'll try an' make fer the stairs."

Ettagar nodded, annoyance forgotten and a grin once again on his face. "Right-o then. See ya 'fore the night falls, Fid." With that parting statement, he shut the commlink off, and left the room.


Five minutes later...


"Please! I'll pay you twice what they're offering!"

The mark was proving to be an amusing target. "Ye've got the money on ya?" the Veir brother shouted back.

"Wha - no, no! But I can get it --"

"Not int'rested!" he sang out, and turned from his corner to blast away at the two guards protecting their boss from him, the loathesome bounty hunter. He managed to squeeze off a few shots, but a third figure became visible running down to the position of the mark and his two bodyguards.

He pressed himself back against the corner. "Great," he murmured to himself. "More company."

He pulled the shatter pistol once more from the shoulder holster. He was using it far too often in this job, he thought to himself while sorrowfully counting how much it'd cost to get the repairs done, as the thing would inevitably need them.

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae heard talking, followed by shots, then followed by yelling, then again with more shots. The shooter, whoever it happened to be, was a cold hearted person with no room for empathy to allow people to go free. As bad as it sounded in her own mind, she gave him points for not allowing personal feelings to get in the way of a job or a vendetta. Excitement was running through her veins as she slowed down her running to a cautious pace, she didn't know what was going on and she was sticking her nose in someones business with the risk of getting herself shot, but she had blood lust nowadays, she enjoyed the excitement and rush she got by putting herself in danger. After all she hadn't had a job to do since she reached Coruscant, until a while ago when a man called her for a job. She bit her lower lip as she scanned the hallway as well as behind her since she heard yells coming from the stairwell not that far away from where she was now. She figured it was the cops. She sighed silently as she looked back to a door that was wide open. She frowned as she kept her blaster down by her side, ready to shoot anyone who pointed anything in her face.

Jesimae turned her head a bit to see inside the room to find dead bodies strewn everywhere and for a moment she wondered if she should just leave since it appeared the killer had left, but she wanted to investigate since she was nosey. She glanced around and wondered what these people did, who had killed them, and if this person was doing it for money or for personal reasons. She didn't stray to long on the subject especially when she began to feel like she was missing something, or better yet, someone.

[Ettagar Veir]

The newcomer fell as quickly as he appeared, unfortunately placing himself too close to the place where a second later, Ettagar's shatter-pistol fired its explosive round. As the authorities would later find him, they would know him to be the teenage son of one of the representatives in the assembly of that planet, as useless as it was under the rule of the Moff.

In his hand was a sporting blaster; he'd apparently wanted to help out his neighbour (or find some sort of glory and excitement), and instead only found an early grave.

But at the moment, none of this was known; the authorities were racing up to the speeder entrances and stairwells to end the firefight that was taking place in one of the premier residence buildings of the planet.

In the meantime, Ettagar had fought a running battle with the bodyguards of the man; these two were somewhat intelligent, realising that they didn't need to kill him, but merely get their charge into the stairwell; from there all they needed to do was run faster than the rogue. Fortunately for the bounty hunter, they were unaware of this at the first, and had tried to enter the turbolift as he killed the remaining guards in the mark's rooms, unaware that he had placed a timed pulse device in the shaft; three and a half minutes after he had killed Legs and her compatriots, the lifts in that forum were electro-magnetically disabled (though the others were working fine, as Jesimae found on her own ascent).

Now, Ettagar was fighting fiercely with the two of them, the stairwell right behind him; the other ways were also far too open for them to risk trying to run past him.

"An opening!" Ettagar cried victoriously. The guards paused a moment to wonder what the bounty hunter was talking about, when two explosive rounds from the shatter-pistol (they were starting to hate that weapon very much indeed), impacted by one of them. Luckily, it didn't kill him, but unluckily, he was knocked unconscious. The other ducked behind a pillar within the small forum they were fighting in. Ettagar's mark was sitting crouched in the farthest corner from the bounty hunter as he could find.

"What are you doing?" the guard hissed. "Run!"

The man stared blankly at him. The guard shifted in annoyance, and turned to gauge the position of the attacker; only to find the barrel of a blaster pistol a few centimetres from his face. He could feel the heat emanating from the barrel, a symptom of heavy use.

"Now, I don' hafta kill ye," Ettagar said affably. "Yer friend an' ye were a great fight, and I don' like killin' the better uns. So ye were wounded, an' unable ta stop me from takin' yer boss here. Aye?"

The guard nodded. Ettagar grinned happily in response. "Alright then!" he exclaimed, and shot the man in the shoulder and the leg. He went down screaming.

"Don' hurt yer voice," he said in his odd accent, holstering the pistol. "Ye'll need it fer the interrogation by the authorities."

He turned to the mark, and grinned. "Representative Ento, I presume? Ye've made some rather shady folks quite angry with ye. They'd like ta talk to ye, an' asked me to escort ye to them to make sure nothin' happ'ned."

But the Representative wasn't looking at him any longer, but behind him. He spun, his blaster firmly in his grip; but he wasn't all that prepared for who was standing across the room from him.

"Well! Miss Jesimae, I can't say I was expectin' to see ye up here."

He absently brought the shatter-pistol to bear on Ento, who was trying to crawl away. Immediately the man thought better of his course of action and stopped moving.

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae was in a cluster of semi-confusion as blasts from guns ahead of her rang out and footsteps ringing heavy in her ears from behind her. Whatever was going on she was about to head off in the other direction and just get the hell out of dodge, but her aggressive desire to find out the goings on near her took over any ability and any thought of freedom from the situation.

She managed to make her way towards the door, stepping over things that had been tossed into the hall, her blaster drawn in case she got a full frontal view of someones barrel. Jesimae had a moment of clarity in realizing how stupid it was to wander around into someone elses business, but she always had the tendency to go too far in her thinking and in her actions. She wanted to see and know what happened.

Jesimae heard the voices of two people, one man yelling, the other telling him to not strain his voice and it almost made her heart stop with either excitement, fear, or shock. She couldn't help but realize at that moment she felt all three emotions and was trying not to grin. The voice she heard was easily recognizable and she couldn't help but feel her hunch had been right. Her somewhat-date had bailed to cause a little trouble. Most women would have been outraged, saddened, fearful, upset, and any other stupid emotion they could feel to realize their date had basically ditched her, but not Jesimae. Not saying she didn't have those feelings from time to time, but she barely knew this Ettagar Veir and had zero attachment to him except a fun conversation filled with innuendos that left her thinking what might happen. But at that moment as she stepped into the room, barely, she couldn't help but feel as if she had walked in on a pile of gold. She felt the corner of her lips tug into a grin, but she refrained from showing it much rather enjoying standing there and watching an interesting scene unfold.

A man was on the ground screaming which allowed her to see he had been shot by Ettagar and when he went and talked to the other man she felt her stomach do a flip as he teased the man and pointed the blaster at him, but all within two seconds Jesimae was now being pointed at. She lifted her own blaster the moment she saw him turn around with a gun, but when he spoke to her she couldn't help but somehow feel elated and excited. She watched him point his other pistol at the man who was trying to crawl off to get away from Ett, which was an obvious good choice for someone who didn't want to continue to feel this mans wrath, and by the looks of it he had a lot of wrath.

"I hear shots, I am like a moth to a flame." She retorted to his obvious surprise. She slowly walked forward, not letting her guard down for she wasn't sure if he would shoot her on the spot or what. "Not the best way to leave a girl sitting all by her onesies now, Ettagar. My curious nature, however, gladly allowed me to find you yet again and this time in a more....suspecting way." She looked around and then back to the man who was near Ettagar. She sighed out and put her pistol down, but not putting it away just in case.

"So this is why you couldn't discuss what you did." She laughed lightly, almost proud to have found him in such a situation that suited her liking. "Now, I am not going to bother you about the business appointment you have going on here, but I would absolutely love to hear all about how you caused such a beautiful mess."

[Ettagar Veir]

Ettagar grinned. The sight of Jesimae with a blaster pistol just sent the blood flowing in all the right directions. And she had the pretty, sharp mouth too.

"I'd love ta chat, Miss Jesimae," he replied. "But as we speak the 'thorities, who'd gladly deprive me of me honest work an' pay, are findin' out that the door's ta this floor 're jammed. That mean's 'at they won't be jammed fer much longer."

As he spoke, he lowered his blaster. His thumb ran across the trigger-guard in a deceptively innocent gesture, but the reason for it soon became apparent as he pointed the weapon at the slightly quieter, but still moaning and gasping wounded guard and stunned him into silence.

"Now, Representative, we have an appointment to make. And yer welcome to follow 'long, Miss Jesimae."

The man stood resignedly.

"To yer rooms, Representative," Ettagar said, still wearing his affable smile, as if he were merely escorting the man on a normal day and hadn't just stunned a man he'd shot in the shoulder and leg. "Well, Miss Jesimae, I am what some might call a gun-for-hire. Very int'restin' work, I call it. Challenging, and without office hours. Ye caugh' me in th' midst of a job unfortunately."

Ettagar prodded the man to go faster with the barrel of his blaster. Cowed, the man did as he was directed. They reached the representatives rooms within a minute.

As the doors slid shut behind Jesimae, the bounty hunter looked at his wrist-chronometer with a slight air of annoyance. "'E's late," was the only thing he said, however. As if in response to Ettagar, across the way, the building next to the one he and Fid had roomed in experienced a large explosion in its upper floors.

"Ah," Ettagar said in realisation. "Law enforcement speeders. Didn't think they'd see through the bomb threat so easily."

At that moment a speeder parked right beside the Representative's, with Fidavar at the steering column. "Hello, Ed!" he called with a grin. "Quickly now!"

The Representative was pushed across his speeder into the Veir brothers', and Ettagar turned and with an exaggerated gallant swing of his arm, he looked at Jesimae and said:

"If ye would milady. I'm afraid ye'll hafta take the back, but a gentleman always holds the door fer a lady."

[Jesimae Lawson]

Jesimae had followed Ettagar and felt the door close behind her as her eyes scanned the situation she had found herself in, enjoying the view and enjoying the fact that these two now shared the same line of work. She bit her lower lip as she glanced out to find a small explosion in an unknown building, she frowned almost wondering what had happened and if this was some part of Ettagar's job. She looked over at him to watch him speak of how law enforcement didn't see it coming. She had to bit back a grin for he didn't seem to care and she enjoyed the rush she was somehow getting by accidentally bumping into him.

Any normal person would turn on their heels and run like hell, but Jesiame wasn't normal, in fact one could say she got her rocks off on this kind of stuff. She licked her lips as she saw a speeder slide nearby and to find a man grinning and yelling for Ettagar, at which Jesimae wondered if her exciting night was now over, sudden sadness filled her. Ettagar pushed the man he had into the speeder only to turn around and stare at Jesimae in such a way that almost made her head spin with confusion.

He prompted her to get into the speeder, backseat, but explained how a man always held a door. She didn't know whether to laugh or to be swooned, but instead of telling him to meet her at her apartment at a later date to finish what the definitely had started, Jesimae smiled widely, tucking her blaster in a different place to allow her to sit and feel comfortable.

"Of course." She said touching Ettagar's arm once before crawling into the speeder to continued this very awkward, yet exhilarating night.

[Ettagar Veir]

“Hello missy,” Fidavar grinned around a cigarra as he looked back at her. “Ef yer gonna be ridin' back there, would ye mind bindin' our prisoner?”

Even as he spoke, the speeder took off and raced away from the messy crime scene that Ettagar had left for the authorities. He reached into his jacket, and pulled out two pairs of binders; these he dangled from his fingers in offering to the woman. Ettagar however snatched the binders from his brother's grasp and gave him a mock severe look.

“Dontcha know how ta treat a guest, Fid?” Ettagar reproached mockingly. He turned around in his seat with a grin and winked at Jesimae while locking one pair of binders around Ento's wrists, and the others around his ankles. With that done, he then took a cable and tied the two binders together, but left enough slack so that while Ento couldn't move easily, he wasn't being tortured.

“I apologize fer me brother's lack o' manners, Miss Jesimae,” he said as he checked to make sure that the device would hold. “Sometimes, I wonder if he's really me own flesh an' blood.”

Fid gave him a dig in the ribs for that, and Ettagar laughed and grunted in pain simultaneously. Sirens suddenly cut through the air and both male hunters looked back through the back window and grimaced, their identical expressions forming in slightly humorous concert.

“Talkin' 'bout lack o' manners,” the elder by a few moments Veir brother said, glancing in the rear-view, “it looks like the law enforcement chaps'd like a few words with us. I don' feel much like chattin' either.”

Ettagar grunted in response. He looked down, and began to reach past Jesimae's legs. He gave a lascivious grin at the contact his hands made with the woman's body. “I beg yer pardon, Miss Jesimae, but I need ta grab somethin' to shake off our pursuit,” he excused himself, but it was easily seen that he was enjoying the contact.

After a few moments that might have been awkward to anyone other than the Veir boy, he pulled out a blaster rifle from underneath the back seat. Jesimae might have recognised it immediately as a DLT-19, though modified to be a bit shorter than the standard model. The roof began to retract from its position over them, folding in on itself as the following law enforcement speeders began to catch up with the fleeing bounty hunters.

“Ye might wan' te keep yer heads down, lessen' ye wan' te lose 'em when they start shootin' back, eh?” Ettagar said loudly. He crouched, brought the weapon into his shoulder and took aim, and fired.