Time to Get Sloshed

[Dalethria Mal Pannis]

Coruscant. The place of her birth. Over two years had passed since Dalethria had stepped foot on this planet. Not because of the Jedi. No, it had to deal with personal matters that caused her to become sheltered on Meras, refusing to do anything because Ogre had disappeared on her.

Then things changed, as they always do. With her depression lifted, Dalethria was determined to have fun again. Coruscant was perfect for that and so much more. The planet was vast so it was easy to slip under the Jedi's radar in order to start certain business arrangements. Her contacts were still around but it was taking a lot of digging to find them again. After three days of trying, she found some of Jax's boys and paid them handsomely to deliver a message to their boss. Now all she could do was wait, but Dalethria was going to have fun in the meantime.

It was about three hours after the sunset. The night life of Coruscant was in full swing. She didn't want something too high profile incase someone recognized her for who she truly was. If she was thought to be Navaria, she could run with that. She was very good at doing that...

The mid sections of the cities had more of what she was looking for. They were crowded and not well known. These were the kinds of places she could disappear into and get lost.

One club had a long line of beings waiting to get in. It even curved around the corner. Meant that the place was packed. Perfect. Dalethria didn't even bother talking with the bouncers. She just walked passed them, making their minds oblivious to her presence as they patted down the next person waiting to get in. Since she wasn't here to start any trouble, Dalethria had hidden her sabre inside a hidden pocket within her jacket.

Inside the music was ridiculously loud and the dance floor was packed. It took a moment to find the bar, and it took longer to get there through the sea of people. She slipped between a rodian and a human before making it to the counter.

She whistled and got the nearest bartender's attention. "Gimme whatever's on tap and a shot of corellian whiskey to start."

[Dasquian Belargic]

A stark contrast to the rest of the crowd waiting to enter the club was a man in Jedi robes. It was uncommon to see Jedi in their entire garb wandering Coruscants streets after dark, but one Knight still kept to the habit of patrolling to ensure that the peace was being kept. After all, the City Watch could not be everywhere. It helped, too, to clear his head of the days worries. It also helped to remind the general populous that the Jedi were an active faction on the planet and didn’t spend, as some said, their days locked away in the Temple pondering the meaning of life.

Oddly, there seemed to be two Jedi out on patrol tonight, but only one in robes. Upon rounding the corner past the line, the Jedi Knight had seen a familiar face ducking into the club. It was Navaria Tarkin, his former Master and mentor within the Jedi Order. Deciding to pop in for a moment and say hello, he approached the bouncer.

“Excuse me- I don’t mean to push in front of all of your customers, but if I could just step inside for a moment…”

People in the line began to grumble as the burly bouncer eyed up the figure before him. Although the club didn’t particularly dislike Jedi, they didn’t want to perpetuate the image that it was a Jedi bar. Then again, they didn’t want it to seem like Jedi weren’t welcome. It was a difficult balance to achieve, and in the end the man waved a dismissive hand and let Dasquian pass by.

The moment he entered, the music hit him and he visibly winced. It was a small wonder to Dasquian how people could manage to enjoy themselves in such a place, unable to hear a word that those stood just beside them had said. What was even more perplexing is that Navaria was here. Perhaps she was here on Jedi business, he thought to himself as he rose onto his toes looking around through the crowd.

Finally spotting his fellow Jedi, he began to edge his way through people slowly but surely, apologizing as he stepped on a few toes. He emerged at the bar, puffing his cheeks out with a tired breath. Then seeing Navaria, he smiled, and called as he slid in between her and the rodian stood beside her. She was certainly dressed differently tonight…

“Hello Master Tarkin!” he beamed, leaning in so that he didn’t have to shout. “I was just, ah, patrolling-” he jerked a thumb towards the exit, “-when I saw you coming in here. I thought I’d come say hello.”

[Dalethria Mal Pannis]

She downed the shot and guzzled down the beer soon after. "Bartender!" Dalethria slapped her palm down on the counter, "Another round!" With her constitution, it was going to take a good number of rounds to get buzzed, let alone drunk. A gift given to her by her husband. Ogre's blood ran through her veins and because of the regenerative capabilities of it, alcohol consumption became a chore. But she had all night.

“Hello Master Tarkin!”

She almost choked on her second beer. Damnable Jedi! This was suppose to be one of the few places where she wouldn't run into them. Just her luck. Dalethria began running through a quick scenario through her head while he continued to talk.

"I was just, ah, patrolling-"

It was Dasquian. She remembered him when Sorsha kidnapped the Knight and brought him to Meras. Also, by the way he called her Master ... more then likely a former Padawan of Navaria's. This was good. She had a lot of ammo to work with.

“-when I saw you coming in here. I thought I’d come say hello.”

The Mistress put on a delightful smile, so disturbingly like Navaria's, and turned to greet the Jedi. She had to shout over the music so he could hear her. "Why hello Dasquian! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!" And he was surprised by her in general. She was not dressed like a normal Jedi. Quite the opposite. Dalethria was wearing a black leather jacket, the same one that hid her sabre, and clothing that indicated her a smuggler. There was even an empty blaster holster at her hip. Black and red leather was her preferred choice of clothing, but she opted for beige pants, black boots and a white collared shirt. It was the best she could do. Not like she could change her face and there were too many minds to trick with the Force.

[Dasquian Belargic]

“Yes, this isn’t exactly my … scene.”

Dasquian found himself pressed back against the bar as a huge, rotund alien stretched past him to reach for a bottle of something on the counter. Again, shuffled to the side as more patrons tried to make their way off the dance floor to purchase a drink, he smiled awkwardly at Navaria, trying his best not to get in anyone’s way. In between avoiding being stood on, he was noting the differences in the Jedi’s attire. He had not spent any time with her outside of training, so for all he knew this could be the norm for ‘casual Navaria’.

“Taking the night off from Council duties to relax?”

[Dalethria Mal Pannis]

Another gruff individual pushed in behind her, forcing Dalethria to get squished up in front of Dasquian. She forced a blush, "Um, if you can call this relaxing. I didn't think this place would be so busy tonight."

She thought about telling the Knight that 'Navaria' was working with the City Watch in bringing down some random criminal. Problem was, either he would want to help and stay, or he wouldn't believe it. Navaria was mostly inside the Temple from what Hera told her. Always busy with Council meetings.

Finally whoever was behind her left, letting Dalethria move back to get some distance between her and Dasquian. "I thought it would be good to get out and enjoy myself. Especially after my condition and all." This was a gamble. From what information she was able to buy on Navaria, she had recovered from her amnesia. Now Dalethria would find out if that was money well spent, or she was frelled.

[Dasquian Belargic]

Dasquian nodded emphatically. Although he wasn’t one to relax in such places, he could understand what Navaria must have found appealing about it. There was a carefree feeling to being somewhere like this, even if this particular club was completely packed. It would allow Navaria to let her hair down, so to speak (which was exactly what she appeared to have done!), and stop being a Jedi for a moment. She certainly deserved that, after what she’d been through.

“Yes, I understand how you must feel… Navaria,” he had only just stopped himself saying Master. “At least, I think I do. Your experience seems similar to my own. Thankfully you managed to receive help quickly. If you don’t mind my asking, only because my knowledge of this is only hearsay – how is it that you came to be in such a… condition?”

[Dalethria Mal Pannis]

Her gamble had paid off. Dasquian was completely fooled and Dalethria now knew her information was accurate. She wasn't sure what the Knight was referring too when he mentioned he could empathize with her. Perhaps he had suffered a similar condition in the past? The Sith didn't know and wasn't going to have the conversation be led in that direction. The Jedi provided a better topic himself to discuss.

"Ah yes. How it ... happened." Dalethria turned around and sipped at her beer, looking downtrodden. "It's not something I'm proud of. I'm surprised you don't know. I was certain those that knew of what occurred would have spoken to the rest of the Order ... Considering who caused it. Unless the rest of the Council has decided to keep it secret and failed to inform me of that decision." Maybe she might learn a thing or two if the Knight happened to slip up and speak of things that Navaria was allowed to be privy too.

[Dasquian Belargic]

“No, I’m afraid with spending so much time dealing with the reworking of the recruitment center and its policies; I haven’t had much time to keep up to date on everything that’s been going on. I mean- of course, you know I’ve been there for meetings, and so forth,” Dasquian sighed, stopping himself. “I suppose I’m just a little tightly wound and thinly spread at the moment.”

Brightening up his expression with a smile, he continued, “Anyway - you don’t want to talk about this tonight anyway, do you?”

[Dalethria Mal Pannis]

It just figured he was going to be tight lipped about council business since they were in a relaxed setting.

"No, of course not." Her smile was warm and pleasant, almost finding the humor in Dasquian's reply. He was right about one thing at this point. Dalethria didn't want to talk anymore at this point. She wanted him to go away. Beating the Knight to death was a delicious thought, but she needed to keep a low profile. There was a time and place for everything and as far as the Order was concerned, Dalethria wasn't much of a threat. Except for the attack on Navaria, she had dropped off their radars.

She would just return to her drinking, hoping to get a buzz tonight and maybe a little something else if the opportunity was presented.

[Jandor]

-Somewhere in the corner, a particularly heated Noghri was starting to get physical with a young man. In all the noise and bussle, no one noticed the scuffle that would begin to unravel only to end abruptley before it started.
The Noghri swung a punch at the human but the human just stepped right into the Noghri, his body forcing between the Noghri's punch and chest; the punch landing harmlessly behind him.
The human removed a lightsaber but was careful to keep it concealed from sight, he pressed the emitter on the aliens abdomen, poinitng it upward at an angle towards the Noghri's chest.
With two deft flicks of a switch the blade ignited momentarily, only enough to advance some 8 or 9 inches before it disappeared again.
Jandor looked into his dieing eyes, as he began to slip Jnador whispered a word in his ear.-

"...shiak..."

-Quoting the manevour he had just preformed, The Noghri's body slumpd to the floor, the human replaced his weapon beneath his leather jacket and casualy head over to the bar.

Those few who may have noticed the body could not distguish himout of the variety of aliens passed out form to many drinking games.

The dark boy had taken a life, he had provoked someone simply to force a grossly unfair confrontation.
Jandor watched the life pour out of the aliens eyes, he drew the life from him infornt of all these people; the synthol and euphoria doped minds of the room knew no better.

Jandor loved every moment it.-

[Dasquian Belargic]

Dasquian had been about to speak again when something struck him. It was like a pin prick in the back of his mind, a minute spark that began to grow immediately. His eyes showed the change, as it appeared something was transpiring behind them – as though some new revelation had just begun to bloom. Even without the focus he would have usually needed to apply to sense the emotions of others, he could recognize the telltale feeling of a life leaving this world.

“Did you feel that?”

He questioned Navaria, a look of urgency in his eyes as he began to scan the room. The crowds were so thick and deep that it was hard to pick one dancer from the next, even with his keen eyesight. The pulse of the music drowned out any sounds of combat, and so the Jedi was left with only the Force to guide him.

[Dalethria Mal Pannis]

In fact she had, but not life leaving the room. No, she felt the euphoria of the one that had taken that life. There was no remorse or regret ... only pleasure.

"Yes." She agreed quickly and turned around to find the source, which was rather pointless in this crowd. Too many minds had caused the room to be dense with emotions, some even duplications of the original thought that Dalethria had sensed. A place such as this would have more then one unscrupulous individual relishing in past and currends deeds.

"But I cannot place where exactly it came from." Her eyes narrowed, trying to sift through the crowd. "And I cannot see anything out of the ordinary right now." She looked back towards the Jedi, rising from the bar stool, "Perhaps we should split up and attempt to look around for anything suspicious?" And to get you out of my damn hair so I can get back to drinking ... Idiot...

[Jandor]

-Force presance aside, it was hard not tonotice a pair of Jedi knghts at the bar.

Jandor approached the bar further along, taking cover behind a large bothan who's unconscious mass was slung over the bar.

He ordered some obscure, strong dark drink; he was careful not to raise his voice to high so as to bring attention to himself, particularly attention from the jedi.

Jandor is twisted, not stupid.-

[Taataani Meorrrei]

A strong hand grasped Jandor's backside, and an accented voice spoke in his ear.

"Whjy don't jI pajy forrr that, and jyou come dance wjith me."