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- Feb 14, 2012
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The dingy cantina was crowded with patrons, surprising for such a back water hole on this side of Saijo, the room had a haze of smoke and its poor lighting made it a little difficult to identify people, but on the flip side it made it easier to hide unnoticed.
Tolrain sat in a corner at a table not far from the door, on his own, the wide brim of his had pulled down slightly to cover his face from those standing around him, though he was still able to see out from under it easily enough. He had tracked the informant to this location, after shaking down several others to be able to pinpoint him. He’d been roughing up and interrogating all sorts trying to get information on the mob he hired to stash the smugglers cargo, he found after a pit of practice on some of these poor schmucks, that he had become adept at summoning the pressure and using it to throw them around or hold them still as he extracted the info he needed.
It had been only a few weeks since he’d escaped from that dungeon on Dosuun, he had decided to ditch the ship at his first stop where he started on this damned informants trail and “acquire” another, smaller vessel, a fighter of some kind so he’d be able to slip around unnoticed that much easier.
There was a disturbance over by the bar that snapped Tolrain out of his riverie, it was his mark, the informant had been involved in some sort of scuffle and was being escorted out of the premises, Tol decided it was time, he stood and slipped quickly through the crowd, out of the door and into an alley across the street to hide in the shadows. Moments later the informant was tossed unceremoniously out the door by a hulking Wookie, to land on his hands and knees, the Wookie bellowed at him and watched as the man stood and stalked off down the street. Once the Wookie disappeared back inside, Tol stepped from the alley and quickly, but quietly took off after the man. As the informant approached another alley, Tol gathered the pressure, though now through use it had become less intrusive or painful and more of just a, feeling, directing his thoughts and the pressure, he slammed the man sideways down the alley as he stepped up to it.
When Tol entered the alley, the informant was in a daze and slowly getting himself to his feet, he strode up to the informant and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him back to the floor, gasping for air. Tol looked the man over, a scrawny human, about the same height as Tol, with pasty white skin, his short dark hair plastered to his head with sweat, the man absolutely stank. Still, Tol pushed the man onto his back with his boot and stood on his chest with one foot, he leant on his knee and bent down close to the man and tipped back his hat, so the weasel could see his face.
“Remember me you turd? The one who hired you to keep my cargo safe…” He reached down and gave the man a light slap in the face, “Listen you cretin, you’ll tell me where it went!”
The man started to laugh, coughing a little, Tol leaned back from the man, remembering his experience in that position, “I remember… I remember… You’ll not get it… Taken… By pirates… Some Hutt…” He continued his laughing and coughing fit, Tol cursed silently to himself, his frustration and anger growing as the man kept laughing, and inadvertently causing the pressure to build in Tol’s head again, the pain returning with it.
"Stop laughing!” He screamed at the man, the pressure suddenly releasing from his head as the man’s chest caved under his foot as if a weight had been dropped on it, blood spurted from the man’s mouth and he went limp.
Tol wiped away the few flecks of blood that had landed on his jacket and left the body. He’d have to pick up the trail elsewhere, but he knew it was pirates and a Hutt that had his goods. He decided to head back towards the cantina, thinking to have a drink and calm his thoughts.
Tolrain sat in a corner at a table not far from the door, on his own, the wide brim of his had pulled down slightly to cover his face from those standing around him, though he was still able to see out from under it easily enough. He had tracked the informant to this location, after shaking down several others to be able to pinpoint him. He’d been roughing up and interrogating all sorts trying to get information on the mob he hired to stash the smugglers cargo, he found after a pit of practice on some of these poor schmucks, that he had become adept at summoning the pressure and using it to throw them around or hold them still as he extracted the info he needed.
It had been only a few weeks since he’d escaped from that dungeon on Dosuun, he had decided to ditch the ship at his first stop where he started on this damned informants trail and “acquire” another, smaller vessel, a fighter of some kind so he’d be able to slip around unnoticed that much easier.
There was a disturbance over by the bar that snapped Tolrain out of his riverie, it was his mark, the informant had been involved in some sort of scuffle and was being escorted out of the premises, Tol decided it was time, he stood and slipped quickly through the crowd, out of the door and into an alley across the street to hide in the shadows. Moments later the informant was tossed unceremoniously out the door by a hulking Wookie, to land on his hands and knees, the Wookie bellowed at him and watched as the man stood and stalked off down the street. Once the Wookie disappeared back inside, Tol stepped from the alley and quickly, but quietly took off after the man. As the informant approached another alley, Tol gathered the pressure, though now through use it had become less intrusive or painful and more of just a, feeling, directing his thoughts and the pressure, he slammed the man sideways down the alley as he stepped up to it.
When Tol entered the alley, the informant was in a daze and slowly getting himself to his feet, he strode up to the informant and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him back to the floor, gasping for air. Tol looked the man over, a scrawny human, about the same height as Tol, with pasty white skin, his short dark hair plastered to his head with sweat, the man absolutely stank. Still, Tol pushed the man onto his back with his boot and stood on his chest with one foot, he leant on his knee and bent down close to the man and tipped back his hat, so the weasel could see his face.
“Remember me you turd? The one who hired you to keep my cargo safe…” He reached down and gave the man a light slap in the face, “Listen you cretin, you’ll tell me where it went!”
The man started to laugh, coughing a little, Tol leaned back from the man, remembering his experience in that position, “I remember… I remember… You’ll not get it… Taken… By pirates… Some Hutt…” He continued his laughing and coughing fit, Tol cursed silently to himself, his frustration and anger growing as the man kept laughing, and inadvertently causing the pressure to build in Tol’s head again, the pain returning with it.
"Stop laughing!” He screamed at the man, the pressure suddenly releasing from his head as the man’s chest caved under his foot as if a weight had been dropped on it, blood spurted from the man’s mouth and he went limp.
Tol wiped away the few flecks of blood that had landed on his jacket and left the body. He’d have to pick up the trail elsewhere, but he knew it was pirates and a Hutt that had his goods. He decided to head back towards the cantina, thinking to have a drink and calm his thoughts.