Ask Nar Shaddaa Apex

[Asena Zeev]

Nar Shaddaa ​

Walk unseen. Be like a shadow. No one knows you, no one sees you. Asena must have repeated this mantra again and again, over a hundred times. On Nar Shaddaa, too much attention could get you killed, as could asking too many questions. She had to be smart about this, and prove to her master she was ready to progress as a Jedi. She had to prove herself as his padawan. That apparently meant keeping her head down and staying out of trouble. If she could traverse the cutthroat streets here, she could do it anywhere. But that meant keeping her saber firmly out of sight. Yamato had strictly forbidden her from using it, citing the recent tensions towards Jedi everywhere. If there was any sort of trouble, she had to use other methods as a solution. Apparently, not every problem could be solved with a lightsaber - who knew?

Still, the young nautolan groaned. It had been hours now and (honestly) Asena was losing track of time. She’d walked from one sector of the city to another, taking twists and turns just as her new master had mentioned. Sneaking off had seemed like a great idea at the time; she'd run down some leads and return to Yamato before he even knew a thing. She'd prove herself without even being asked.

That was the original plan, but how quickly things fall apart. There was no glitz and glamor here, she had basically made herself into a glorified errand girl.

Boring…Oh well. She better wrap this up quickly. Knowing her master, he'd be worried sick. One last location left and then she'd call it quits. Shocker, it was another seedy establishment. Nar Shaddaa, you’re getting a little too predictable.

Asena then stopped. Her progress paused. By what? She wasn’t certain; it felt like a tremor had just passed through her. It felt cold and oddly electrifying. What was that? And where was it coming from?

Subtly, she peaked about herself, natural curiosity getting the better of her. Perhaps she should try to track it? She’d never felt such sensation…No! Can’t afford to get distracted. Need to prove myself to Master Yamato.

Casting her hood further up and over, Asena hastened inside the club. Music reverberated all about her, with bodies colliding left and right. Lithe as she was, the nautolan slipped through without issue. The ground floor was of no interest to her; all the information brokers were upstairs, in the designated V.I.P areas.

In and out, that’s all she had to do and nothing was going to stop her. Not even the hulking Nikto bouncer baring her way. “Invitation only. Scram, ya brat.”

Huffing slightly, Asena motioned the guy to lean down, playing innocent as best she could. “Look, can you just pass on a message for me - pleeeeease?”

Thank the Force for her cyan blue eyes because, with a grumble, the Nikto did just that. He leaned down to her, expecting something simple and nothing else. Asena wasted no time in playing her favorite trump card; the good old Jedi mind trick. “I have an invitation. I can go right on up.”

She couldn’t help but grin when the bouncer parroted the words right back. With the music thumping and the strobing of lights, their little exchange was otherwise unnoticed. Or so Asena had thought…

@Nevermourn

 

[Zeel Kadan]

Oh, now this was the place for him. Zeel adored Nar Shaddaa, adored it's neon lights and gambling facilities, it's crime rate and littered streets. Everything looked so... gritty, splashed in color like a coat of paint, as if that would disguise the shadow that lurked in every corner. He's smiling, slithering like a snake through the flashing lights of the club, his glistening eyes reflecting the ecstatic faces of partygoers, drunkards and addicts, all mingling together in song and dance, and rather erotically, at that. Holo-dangers upon brightly lit stages, glow sticks like bracelets, wrapped around necks and arms. The scent of strong beverages permeating the air, among other shady things.

And Zeel? He blends right in, slipping between dance partners, flashing his toothy grins and whispering his venomous words into hungry ears. The Nautolan was there because he enjoyed being there, and if it just so happened that he learned some juicy new information that might benefit his selfish desires, then all the better. Such as... a rather illegal underground auction that was to be taking place later that night, which had seemed all too eager to advertise a few dark side aligned artifacts of the Sith Empires of old, items that could no doubt be used for nefarious purposes. Zeel already had an invitation, because it was quite easy to get into a greedy establishment that had no qualms about one's allegiance as a Sith, particularly when you happened to have a fair bit of wealth. The Nautolan was, in a way, their target audience for the night, even if he wasn't exactly an intended guest.

Of course, he should have suspected that the Jedi would have gotten wind of the illicit operation. They were quite good at sticking their noses into things, weren't they? The heated ripple of light that surges through the force is blatant enough to snag his attention, and the Nautolan's vision snaps to his right to rake across the back of a younger Nautolan, as she persuades one of the bouncers to let her onto the second floor. How bold. Zeel's expression widens with amusement as he slides gracefully through the crowd to follow. He'd wait for her to slip up to the second floor before the Sith strides up to the guarding Nikto with a daring smirk. The two were already acquainted, Zeel had gotten his information already, except he had done it with a bit less... force persuasion, and bit more bribery. The benefits of money, indeed.

So, the bouncer merely spares him a glance, but doesn't move to stop him as the Sith trots his way onto the lift to follow the suspected, hooded Jedi to the next floor. He's still smiling, still wearing his expression of confidence and glee, even as the doors open and he steps out onto the next floor. Large eyes peer outward for his target as he moves on, a swagger within his graceful steps. Zeel wears no hood, only his casual, but vibrant clothing, and a lightsaber concealed beneath his long shirt at his hip. His head-tresses drape across his back and shoulders, as he reaches out with the cold darkness of his force signature, seeking the woman in more ways than just simply using his eyes.

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Asena Zeev]

When cold tendrils touched her at her, Asena stopped short. She was in danger. It was as if a snake had coiled itself about her and with each passing moment, its hold grew tighter around her throat. The dark side. Her first instinct was to run, to flee as fast as her feet would carry her but (to her credit) the young nautolan refrained. Acting in blind panic would be foolish and would likely make her retreat all the more recognizable. A hunter should never run, not when they’re in a predator’s line of sight.

Calm. Remain calm. Fear is the enemy. Fear will get you killed.

So, what now? As much as she hated to admit it, Asena would have to abandon the mission; the information simply wasn’t worth the risk, especially if that risk included a dark sider. An irritable huff escaped the nautolan’s lops; she should have known better, using the force like she did. Her own head-tresses quivered in self-reproach. Master Yamato had warned as much; the force was a wealth of energy and each use created its own resonance. That residual trace had given her away and how she had to find a solution. Her only option? Blend in and get the Hoth out of there.

The thought made her stomach sink. Running away. Hardly the most heroic action, but for the moment, it was the most pragmatic. There were innocent people here…. Well, maybe not in the traditional sense, but still there was a risk to life should Asena decide to confront this dark stalker.

All she had to do was abstain from the force, just long enough to fade from view. That ‘touch’ wasn’t accidental. It was a bait and Asena refused to fall for such a ploy. Instead, she went for a subtler option. Some drunken revelers were descending down an opposite set of stairs; swift, like a convor, Asena joined them, throwing hands about them as if she were one of them. At one point, she even discarded her hooded scarf, allowing the fabric to fall away without so much as a second glance. It was a feint, small at best, but anything was an advantage. Now Asena looked like a native, an aquatic bacchant painted in patterns and piercings. Cutting across the dance floor, she’d make it to the exit as quick as anything.

So far, so good. Don’t look back. Do not look back.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. Call it a fatal flaw. The urge to look around her was overwhelming; to steal a fleeting glance of this would-be foe. This was, after all, her first actual encounter. Could she really leave without putting a face to the threat? The temptation was enough to make her tresses tremble. Surely, the pleasure-seeking party goers would shield her search; coupled with the poor, neon lights, she would be as good as a ghost.

One look. Just…one…little….look.

 

[Zeel Kadan]

Dark eyes reflect vibrant lighting, as the man lets his senses sweep outward to scan the building. Head-tresses pick up on the traces of emotion and pheromones that linger like breath in the heated air. There was no more flicker of light, however. No sensation of the Jedi flickering like fire through the crackling club air. A disappointment, to be sure, but Zeel doesn't lose his grin, merely turns to head back down the stairs.

Ahead of him, he spots a drunken group stepping onto the dance floor he had only just left himself. One is a nautolan, and it looked like she was leaving, but not before having a glance around the crowded room as she made for the exit.

Zeel offers a fanged smile as he draws closer, graceful limbs sending him gliding toward the younger aquatic with an expression of smug satisfaction. He had kept his eyes on her, even through the crowd. He knew where she was.

"Surely you're not leaving without saying hello to me?" The Sith practically purrs, and for the moment, he doesn't quite realize that this was the hooded figure he had been tracking earlier. "Always lovely to see a fellow Nautolan so far from Glee Anselm." Zeel's smile is cheery and bright, but then he reaches out, not with a hand, or even a foot. With the force, Zeel probes at her with his senses, because he's not one to forget his former search so easily, and what was the harm in checking? A non force sensitive wouldn't even notice.

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Asena Zeev]

Regret hit the young nautolan like a torrent of waves and with it came a numbing sense of dread. She had been spotted. Worse still, she had locked eyes with her pursuer. Asena didn’t need the force to tell her it wasn’t any mere coincidence; instincts worked just as well and they were screaming out at the blatant threat. Only her hunts inspired such feelings of trepidation, that instant when prey and predator finally spiraled into syntricity. The only difference here? Asena was not the hunter. Evidently, she had become the hunted and it was not a pleasant feeling. At that moment, it was as if an Ackley were staring right at her with its hungry jaw ready to snap.

But there was something else that unsettled the young Jedi. His face. It was familiar to her. Question was, where had she seen it? Nautolans weren’t exactly homebodies, and they could be found near enough anywhere in the galaxy; nevertheless, Asena still took notice whenever meeting one of her own.

That smile…that signature smile! I do know him!

The moment of realization quickly subverted itself when Asena felt the familiar touch of cold, invasive tendrils. So, he was the source and he was trying yet again to reach out. The dilemma was becoming more and more precarious by the second! If she even attempted to shield herself from him, he would know but if she just allowed the mental probe to succeed, he’d also know! It was a no-win situation!

Think! Think….Okay, new plan…

“Oh…my…stars! I know you!” Once demure, Asena summoned up a wealth of energy. She was practically giddy from bouncing, appearing barely able to contain herself. “Yeah! You’re that extreme sportsman, right? The streamer!”

Her voice was purposefully loud, and her fawning had started to attract attention, yet still, she persisted. Heads turned from all directions, with their focus now falling on the towering nautolan male. Asena continued in her unbridled fawning, “My brothers and I watched all your streams! You’re famous!”

Soon enough (just as intended) a crowd of interest had formed around him, with patrons curious as to this sudden ‘celebrity’ amidst their club. They began asking questions with some females even falling over themselves in order to ask for an autograph. What the aqua-colored padawan said hadn’t exactly been a lie and if the stranger probed her again, he would (hopefully) sense no deception.

Not that he’d find her. In all the commotion, Asena had melted away and like a shyyyo, had made herself scarce. This time, she didn’t look back; she made for the exit and bolted into the balmy night of Nar Shaadaa’s streets.