Tell me where to aim, and I'll shoot (open)

[(Alex) Jacen]

No amount of training could have prepared him for this. No number of hours in the cantinas of Mos Eisley could have given him any idea of what this place would be like. Years moving from bar to bar while off duty seemed like childsplay compared to what lay before him. In this room were some of the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy. And yet it looked so normal...well, normal as a hive of scum and tirany could look. Normal was a bad thing. Normal meant either he had been grossly misinformed, or someone was hiding something. Jacen was willing to bet anything and everything on the latter.

His commando-trained mind scanned the room for possible threats, exits, escape routes, obstacles, points of cover...and of course, any likely suspects who might want to work for him. He stroked the tattoo on his arm - the flame-red emblem of his mercenary squad; a squad that called themselves Fury.

He gently massaged one of his temples with his fingers, and wished that he'd brought his visor with him. Electobinoculars, night vision, a comm link, and an enhancement for his sniper scope, all rolled into one. He swore under his breath as he realised that not only was his visor not here, but neither was his trusty sniper rifle. He hoped he wouldn't need it, but he'd gone through a lot with that rifle...it was the closest friend he had.

Jacen slid up onto a barstool, glad that all of his other weapons, including the twin lightsabers he'd inherited from his grandfather, with their curved hilts, were secured firmly in their holsters. He threw a few coins across the bar, and muttered his order under his breath.

[(Alex) Jacen]

Jacen had just brought his glass to his lips when someone had opened fire. Someone nearby ran out of the way, and nudged his arm. "Frell..." he muttered, as some of his precious Lomin ale disappeared over the bar top. He set his glass down, and turned, only to find someone floating in the air. "Nice trick," he muttered, and turned back to his drink.

Eighteen months ago, he'd have tried to arrest someone for having such abilities. But then, eighteen months ago, things were very different. Eighteen months ago, he'd been a Captain in the elite Special Operations branch of the Imperial Stormtroopers. He was an officer. He was respected. He was fighting for the good guys. Or so he thought. But then things changed. Thanks to the actions of a few interfering men, he had become the very thing that the Imperials hated. He'd discovered something about his heritage that he never knew. He was a Jedi. At least, he was meant to be.

His grandfather had been murdered by the order of the Emperor when he began destroying the Jedi Order. Jacen had been blissfully unaware. Being the coward that he was, Jacen's father had hidden his heritage inside an Imperial uniform, and Jacen had been none the wiser. But now his father was dead. And now the truth of what he was meant to become was clear. He had to become a Jedi. He had to find out about who he was destined to be.

Unfortunately, things didn't look too good. One generation before his grandfather, a powerful Dark Jedi had poisoned the family bloodline. Son had slain father, but dark Force powers flowed through his veins. And the worse thing was, as he'd struggled to train himself, the Dark Side had proven far more tempting a path than the Light. With all the fear of discovery, anger at those who'd destroyed his life, and hate for anything and everything to do with the Emperor that had destroyed his past, his path was chosen. But lucky for Jacen, his powers were feeble. For the most part. Some Jedi could move objects at will. Some could control the minds of others. Some could sense the world around them in a different way to most people. Jacen could do none of this. But what he could do was get angry.

When anger flowed through his veins, the Dark Side burst open to him. An incredible surge of energy, trapped within his DNA from 3 generations ago, turned him into a mighty Force warrior. He was more powerful than he could have ever imagined. But this power came at a cost. Control. When he was angry, Jacen lost control. Years of pent-up emotions stored away, the guild of so many deaths caused by his hand, at the end of a sniper rifle, where the people had no chance to resist...all flowed out. In fits of fury, he'd used the Force to throw heavy objects great distances. But more often than not, they were smashed to oblivion. He tried to levitate rocks, but his frustration turned to anger, and the rocks exploded. He had power, but he lacked control. And power without control is useless.

Jacen was here because he didn't belong. He fell between many worlds, not welcome in any of them. The only place he felt at home was where he'd spent most of his Imperial career...in the shadows. So now, instead of fighting for the Empire, he fought for himself. Instead of fighting just to do the bidding of the Emperor, he fought only if the bidding of his clients came high enough. He was a mercenary. A soldier for hire. Save for a few people, he was alone. And he liked it.

"To Fury," he muttered, and downed the last of his drink.

[DarthHERA]

The blonde sitting on the stool beside him canted her head slightly at the sound of the coins clanging on the counters surface.

Sliding a glance at the stranger beside her, she looked him up and down without speaking.

[(Alex) Jacen]

Jacen held his second drink in his hands for a while, letting the cool, damp surface of the glass transfer the heat away from his body. He stared into the glass in front of him, and sighed. He shot a sidelong glance at the woman sat beside him. Blonde, attractive, sitting alone in this place...she obviously could handle herself. Jacen wasn't paying much attention, but he thought it was her that had broken up the fight earlier...the one with the Force powers. As Jacen sat beside her, his mind prickled. She was Force-trained alright...even his feeble abilities could detect that. That alone narrowed down his list of subjects. Adding to that the race, gender, looks and physical presence...there was only one person she could be. Getting police reports from the Holonet obviously had some uses.

"Hi," Jacen said, turning, trying to look as relaxed as possible. "The name's Dantarno. Jacen Dantarno. But most people just call me Jace. I'm new around here...and I think you're the sort of person I'm looking for." He took a swig of his drink, and held it on his tongue for a moment. "I'm the Captain of a band of mercenaries. We're called Fury. We specialise in Special Operations. We need employment. We need supplies. We need people." He frowned, checking to see if he'd forgotten anything. "Oh, and guns. Lots of guns."

[DarthHERA]

Hera blinked a moment or two, taking in what Dantarno had to say - which was a lot in one introduction.

She had never had someone be quite so up front with her before. Especially in a first contact scenario.

Her frown faded slowly, and the Sith began to laugh lowly.

"And who the frell do you think I am? The wizard of oz?"

[(Alex) Jacen]

Jacen half-frowned for a moment. "Oz?" he wondered, but decided it was best not to ask. "Unless my information is way off..." he paused, thinking, "You're Hera. That means that you can get me what I need. Well..." He gazed blankly at a patch of wall over on the other side of the bar. "You can get me what I want, anyway. Employment, supplies, people, guns..." Jacen sighed and shrugged. "The guy at the spaceport said you could do anything." He roze to his feet, and poured the rest of his drink down his throat, before setting it down on the table. "I guess he was wrong." Jacen adjusted his ankle-length black jacket, and turned to leave.

[DarthHERA]

Hera was on him in a heartbeat.

She struck out with a force that rocked Jacen on his feet, unbalancing him. A steely hand folded around his throat as Hera used her force strength, pushing him down against the bar so that his face was planted solidly against its surface.

This Dantarno could be anybody. An Imperial attached to Commander Tchorts' intelligence detatchment, the vindictive bastard. Or perhaps a New Republic spy. He could work for the Cizeracks or the Sector Rangers. Hera had as many enemies as she did friends. There was no telling what this Jacen's real agenda was.

Whipping her free hand to her dagger hilt and back up again, she pricked the blade against Dantarno's cheek.

"You seem to know way too much about me. Forgive me if I'm not as hospitable as you are accustomed too."

She added slight pressure to the blade and a dot of bright blood pooled at the contact point.

"You wanna tell me just who you're getting your information from? I want names"

[(Alex) Jacen]

Jacen narrowed his eyes despite his situation, and turned his voice into a low growl. "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

With a deep calming breath, he began to speak slowly and clearly. "Ho-lo-net. You do know what one of those is, right? You're not exactly an unknown. I hacked into the Imperial system, and pulled what files I could on this place. I like to know a little about the place I go into before I actually go into it. Imperial Commando training, lesson 4 - "Proper Use of Intelligence and Resources."

Calmly, he pushed against Hera's chestbone, remembering the techniques he'd been tought to withstand torture - focus on something other than the pain. Set yourself a task. DO NOT FAIL THAT TASK. Right now, his task was to try and move her away from him. "Don't get mad," his mind urged, "Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Don't get mad."

He sighed. "You gonna let me go so I can actually explain?"

[Dan the Man]

A table away, a grey-haired man sat watching the spectacle, with a shot glass in one hand and a cigar in the other. He carried no aggression in his posture, and he watched the violence before him with detatched amusement.

[(Alex) Jacen]

Hera stayed, unflinching, dagger still pressed against his cheek. Jacen tried to slow his breathing; to calm his thoughts; to concentrate. A few meters away was a glass...one left behind after the bar brawl earlier. It was half full with a swirling blue-green liquid that seemed strangely alive. "Actually, it looks half empty right now," his mind whispered.

Focusing on the dagger, and reaching out with the Force powers that were supposed to be within him somewhere, he reached for the glass. "All I need to do," he thought to himself, "Is knock it on the floor. Then she'll be distracted, and I can break free." His brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate harder. It wasn't working again. "C'mon...move, you frelling lump of sithspit!" The voice inside his head cried aloud, and Jacen felt the anger rising. He felt his blood begin to heat up. His whole body tingled. Rage flowed through him, unlocking the dormant Force powers that had tried to illude him. He clenched his hand into a fist, and the glass exploded. Hera flinched a little...that was all he needed. Summoning up the Force again, Jacen threw his hand at her chest, stopping a few inches short. But the Force energy continued. Hera staggered back a few steps. Not as far as Jacen would have hoped, but then she was pretty strong. "Its not like throwing furniture around like in one of your tantrums, Jace," he reminded himself.

Jacen rolled forward onto his feet, and in one quick movement, drew a blaster pistol and levelled it at Hera's head, while he wiped a trickle of blood off his cheek with his other hand. "Lets try this again," he said calmly and slowly, as the rage in him subsided. "You don't hurt me," he continued, as his eyes began to narrow, "And I don't blow your brains from here to Tatooine. Deal?"

Before Hera could answer, Jacen slowly lowered his arm, and slid his pistol back into its holster. He hooked a chair towards him with his foot, and sat down. "I'm not here for a fight," he said far more calmly, "I'm here on business. The day I approach you looking for trouble is the day I take my last job before retirement."

He rested his elbows on the table, and tapped the knuckles of his left hand into his other palm. "I'm not your enemy...but I will kill them for you...for a price."

[DarthHERA]

So, he was a force user. Unskilled and clumsy, but a force user. Hera's curiosity piqued.

She could have reduced Jacen to a quivering mass of agonised jelly if she had so chosen. As a Sith Master she had the potential to visit such overwhelming devastation upon her chosen target that only another Force Master could hope to withstand it or combat it.

Jacen was a pup. But he was a feisty pup, and despite his ill advised provocations, Hera found him atleast bold.

"Since when did Commandos become so stupid" she said disdainfully, standing in front of him. Around her, many of her crew, including the barman, and a few of the seated patrons lowered their own blasters that had immediately and reflexively been trained on Jacen when he pulled his stunt at the bar. Dantarno had stepped into the lions den and to all intents and purposes thrown down the gauntlet. Hera did not need their aid, as Dan's inaction declared, but no one in this bar needed to be asked twice to shoot a man. In fact, any excuse would do. Jacen seemed ignorant of that fact.

"As you can see, I have no lack of people to kill for me. But I usually like to do the deeds myself." She leaned forward a little so that her nose almost touched Jacens, "Keeps me sharp"

Hera returned her dagger to its holster, and reaching forward, took Jacens pistol to look it over.

"You hacked into the Imp database did you? How'd that go?"

Hera herself had done the self-same thing just a few months before with moderate success. Moderate in the terms that she got in, but was later discovered. Imperial Feild Marshall Jarek Tchort had been none too happy with her for that..

[(Alex) Jacen]

"They haven't found me yet," he replied with a grin, before freezing the expression, and pulling out a comlink. He clicked it on, and spoke into it. "Kay-Four...if I enter in the right access code, I can access our mole from anywhere, right?"

A sequence of clicks and whistles came in response. "What do you mean our mole?" flashed across a little display on the side of his comlink.

"Fine, your mole. I can access it anywhere, right?" Kay-Four whistled an affermative. "Thanks, Kay." He clicked the comlink off, and slid it back into his pocket. "Kay-Four...my R2 unit...it has an upgraded slicing package. He managed to convince the system that his virus was meant to be there. It floats about through different sections of the database, so that its never in the same place long enough for anyone to spot it. They'll just think its a blip." Jacen chuckled. "You should have seen the pictures I pulled off the surveilance cameras in Tchort's quarters..."

"The access code is yours, if you want it," he said seriously. "As long as you don't over-use it, you should get unlimited access to mid-level security stuff. I couldn't get into the high level things..." He let out a disappointed sigh.

He allowed his eyes to meet Hera's gaze. "You know what I want. Name your price."

[DarthHERA]

She didnt answer immediately, but looked at Jacen speculatively, her mind pawing over possibilities.

Finally she responded.

"I'd like to see what you are capable of. Bar-room brawls are definitely not your forte - perhaps something requiring a little more finesse is what you are better suited to...?"

[(Alex) Jacen]

"You'd be surprised how good at brawling I am," he growled. "Its just that you have an unfair advantage. However, I am up for a challenge..." He pulled out his comlink, and flicked it on again. "Trey, you hear me?"

"Afermative, Master Jacen," came the slightly metalic voice of a droid that, had it been human, would have sounded in his early twenties. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I'm going to need to to bring a few things from the ship to Poseidon's Gate. I'll need my visor, my sniper rifle, my assault rifle...and you might as well bring Kay with you, too."

"Understood, Commander," the droid replied, his voice deeper, gruffer, and much older-sounding...almost like a rugged old Sergeant Major from some planetary militia somewhere. "Shall I have Kay-Four prepare a package for you?"

Jacen frowned for a minute, then it dawned on him. Trey was in his military mode. He was observing operational security. "A droid that knows when to keep his mouth shut," Jacen muttered, marvelling. "I think I'll be ok with the two I have."

"Aye aye, Chief." The comlink went dead.

Jacen noticed the puzzled look on Hera's face. "Trey is...complicated," he said by way of an explaination. "I'll explain when he gets here. In the meanwhile..." He slid off his jacket, revealing the holsters strapped to his body, and drew each pair of pistols and heavy pistols, visually inspecting them before sliding them home once more. Then his hands fell to two crescent-shaped devices beneath his arms, hanging from the holsters on his shoulders. He brushed his fingers lightly over them, remembering in an instant the dark secret of his family's history that these two lightsabers represented. "What would you rather see? My marksmanship with a pistol, a sniper rifle, or my skills with a lightsaber? Trust me...the second one is the most impressive."

[DarthHERA]

She took in all the gear strapped to him, handing him back his pistol as he checked over all his equipment.

"Well, being as Im in the mood to be impressed, lets see the sniper moves"

[(Alex) Jacen]

A few moments later, a new figure entered the bar. Clad in Mandalorian Battle Armour in shades of blue and grey, they looked as if they'd just dropped out of history. Jango Fett was back from the grave. Well, that's what it looked like, anyway.

"Ah, Trey," Jacen called from his table, "Right on time."

The figure turned his head in an inorganically jerky fashion, and began to walk towards towards Jacen. An R2 unit trundled along behind him. Despite the enhancements to the design that Jacen's Uncle Kieran, a highly skilled droid engineer, there were still a few bugs in Trey's design. The droid's movement still didn't quite look human. And of course, Trey had far too many personalities. "Begging your pardon, sir," the more educated, "upper class", scientific aspect of Trey asked, "But why did you drag me to this festering pit of evil and tyrany?"

K4 whistled. Jacen chuckled. K4 "headbutted" Trey in the leg, and the droid shifted modes. "Sorry, Chief," said the soldier-Trey. "Here's your stuff."

The droid handed Jacen a long, thin, black case, which he set down on the table. "Thanks Trey," Jacen replied. "You should head back to the ship...can you stay a bit longer, Kay?"

Kay warbled, and Trey spoke. Coincidentally, Trey answered with the exact same words that Kay had...more or less. "Sure thing, boss." Then the droid turned, and left, all eyes in the bar following the replica of the Bounty Hunter hero and "father" to the Clone Troopers of the Galactic Republic, as he marched out of the door.

Jacen opened the black case, and slowly took out his rifle, a section at a time. Carefully, he began attacting the sections together. Laying the entire rifle gently down on the table top, he took out a strange-looking device from a section at the end of the case, and slid it onto his head, adjusting it to sit over his eyes correctly. The world turned red as he looked through the visor, but a click of a button soon caused the image to form into a high resolution holographic image, projected straight into his eyes, of the world around him. He played with a few buttons on the side of the visor, to perfect the focus. He then flipped open a small pannel beside the controls, and inserted a data transfer cable that he obtained from his case. The other end fitted into a similar socket on the side of his "Sniper Scope". Tapping a few more buttons, a set of blood-red crosshairs began to float in front of his eyes.

"Ok, I'm ready," he said, turning to Hera. "What do you want me to shoot?"

[Keldon Shaddow]

Keldon sat in his seat watching the brawling beside him. Wondering why Hera wanted to see this Jacen's talent, to Keldon he looked talented enough.

He thought he recognised Jacen, but then again he had seen hundreds if not thousands if not millions if not billions of people in his life. Ever since he had seen his father die to a Jedi scumbag.

Keldon had always been able to sneak around, even though his Iktotchi bulk, had made him an easy target. But there was something different, which his cloak had hidden. A secret, that meant the Shaddow's had to live in fear of the traditionalists of Iktotchon. Keldon not only had scars from his battles, which only his father knew about, but also had very small horns, compared to the usual horns, the Iktotchi are famous for having.

WIth a sly action, Keldon slinked towards Hera and Jacen wondering what has happening between them. Once again he felt his heart harden, and all of a sudden his engineering knowledge left him, and his role since his voluntary exile from Iktotchon came to him. He grabbed his hidden weapons and peered at Jacen whether he would want his services. Just be sure, Keldon whispered into Jacen's ear saying, "I may be able to help, contact me at my ship Apex-XTC. I must leave." With a swish of his cloak, Keldon left the bar, enough of his waiting, and maybe a chance to show his true skills.

[(Alex) Jacen]

Jacen looked around to see who had spoken to him, but the figure was already disappearing. "Wierd," Jacen muttered to himself. Apex-XTC. He'd have to find that ship a bit later, even if it was just to find out who the figure was. He sighed, and his attention returned to now.

"Tell me where to aim, and I'll shoot."

:shootin

(ooc: *giggles like a maniac on helium*)

[DarthHERA]

Hera watched in cold, wary, silence as Keldon came and went.

Her eyes hard on Dantarno, she delivered her challenge.

"Pick a target of your own choosing - someone high profile, well known - and externinate him. Do it how you want, where you want. Contact me with the details once its done.

I shall see what you can do."

[(Alex) Jacen]

Jacen grinned. "I know just the guy."

He chucked to himself, and rose to his feet, holding out a hand to Hera. "Keep your eye on the holonet...you'll be seeing some news pretty soon."

[DarthHERA]

She took his hand in a firm grip.

"I count on it"