Even before they stepped into the cantina, Deilia could hear the tension in Garran's muscles as he moved.

"Look, I know I'm the one without any of this field experience, but...I'm seriously starting to doubt your judgment."

Already quickly scanning their unfavorable surroundings and the less than desirable patrons inside, Deilia kept her expression calm and confident, hoping to offset the nervousness of her cousin beside her.

"We're getting closer, I can feel it."

He lowered his voice, at least, but still, he protested. "Any closer, and you would've lost that eye." It took all her willpower to not scratch at the diagonal gash across her left eye that was still healing. She could have ignored its itchiness perfectly well if he hadn't returned her attention to it. "This place is even worse than the last. Whoever this guy is, he had better be worth it."

"If I didn't know any better," she answered with a moody bite, "I'd say you sound like you're related to my uncle." She shot him a pointed look, getting her intent across without having to say more. Like father like son, Garran had become more vocal and more overprotective after their last venture had gone slightly awry, resulting in some minor injuries sustained by them both. She knew he meant well and was only concerned for her safety, but she was well aware of what she was doing. One mistake wasn't going to stop her, and he finally seemed to understand that.

Though reluctantly, he remained silent, stepping even closer to her as they continued into the filthy, dim cantina. Dozens of eyes, humanoid and not, all scanned them as they moved, and Deilia met each pair with a scathing glare of her own. They were unfamiliar to the regulars, she knew, but in grimy, roughed up spacer gear, they looked like they fit in. Her new scar and two-toned hair was simply extra flair.

She quieted her voice, too, just in case. "Do you still have that blaster I gave you?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep it handy."

Eventually, those most wary of the newcomers returned to their drinks and discussions, leaving Deilia and Garran to take up spots at one of the three bars undisturbed. Deilia chose her seat with surveillance in mind; with her back to the near wall, she could see every patron in the cantina in front of her. At least, those illuminated well enough by the weak glowlamps. She ordered a mild drink and only lightly sipped it, instead locking her gaze just over the mug's brim at the rest of the crowd. He had to be here, she just knew it...

But hours came and went, spacers conducted their business and left, but she had seen no sign of her target. Fatigued and disappointed, she lowered her head, staring at the table under her folded arms. She may have been working off old intel, but he was out of options, as far as she knew. He could only return to familiar territory that was safe, and that narrowed her search substantially. Had she just...missed him?

"Hey, look. Someone else is going to start the fight this time."

Looking up at Garran with an unimpressed expression, she followed his line of sight to an ugly brawl that had broken out between three spacers on the far side of the room. Two surly Weequay brutes were easily handling a smaller human, and though it was hard to watch, she was just glad attention hadn't lingered on her and Garran. She had started to suggest that they use the cover of the fight to leave unnoticed, but she caught a brief glimpse of the human's face...and her stomach froze into solid ice.

Her instincts were right; she had found him, but how could she possibly get him out of this cantina alive?

Suddenly inspired with an idea, she turned to Garran, gripping a fistful of his shirt to roughly pull him down to her as she spoke with quiet intensity. "Go out the back and bring the speeder around to the front door. Quickly."

Too stunned to argue, Garran complied and left without attracting anyone's attention, leaving Deilia to her plan. She took in a slow, deep breath to steel her nerves, preparing herself mentally for the character she had to become...

As she briskly walked over to the fight, she saw a brief glint of shattered transparisteel flying through the air, a large shard of it being forcefully thrust deep into the human's chest -

"Are you two quite finished?"

Her sharp Coruscanti accent easily pierced through the room and drew every gaze to her, just as she wanted it to. Her every muscle tightened with anxiety, ready to rely on sheer reflexes should the Weequay decide to turn their aggression on her. They held the human by the arms between them, but he was hardly conscious anymore, no longer able to defend himself, much less fight back. She would have to work quickly if he was going to survive his grievous wound...

Surprised as everyone else was, the Weequays studied her intently, sizing her up before they carelessly dropped the human to the ground, and the larger of the two answered with a deep, rough voice. "The hell do you want, lady?"

She had to suppress a grin, putting her hands on her hips with confidence. "I want you to not kill this man."

The two laughed as they exchanged glances. "The lady wants to be a hero."

Deilia added an edgy laugh of her own. "Oh, I am no hero. I want him alive...but he'll wish he were dead when I'm through with him."

As expected, the Weequays' expressions changed. They were now taking her seriously.

"You see," she continued darkly, "he owes me a substantial debt, one he will never be able to repay. So, I intend to take my payment the only way I can - for as long as I can. I can't do that if he's dead."

She could already see the gears turning in their thick skulls; they weren't as dumb as she pegged them to be.

"He owes us, too."

"Yeah," the other spoke up for the first time with a calculating sneer, "that's right. He broke our drinks...with his chest."

She had them right where she wanted them. "Really. You're going to deny me my prize over a few spilled glasses of grog?"

"They were...expensive glasses."

Narrowing her eyes at them, she hesitated just long enough... "Fine. You allow me to leave with him, I'll leave you with replacement drinks."

"Your 'prize' is obviously worth more than a few drinks to you."

She feigned annoyance by crossing her arms. Negotiating with such ignorance was almost unfair. "So he is. I think five hundred credits each as a...finder's fee is sufficient."

They were momentarily silent, and her pulse pounding in her ears was almost deafening. Had she been too eager to offer credits? Had they seen through her ruse?

"Make it a thousand each, and I think we'll call it even."

She couldn't let the intense relief she felt surface in her expression. Outwardly reluctant, she gave a disgruntled huff as she glanced about at the room's spectators. "For a thousand each, you'll both haul him outside, where my speeder is waiting for me."

One seemed satisfied, but the other protested. "What makes you think we'd do that?"

"You will," she grinned, "because if you don't, after I leave, you'll still be in here. We've caused quite a scene, you see, and every single patron in this...fine establishment will know just how many credits you have in your pockets. Maybe they'll wait to take their chances, but to me, they already look somewhat...eager."

The Weequay were quick to give any onlookers intimidating glares, but she knew she'd gotten to them. She flashed half of the credits in one hand, knowing they would take her up on her offer after they'd thought about it a moment more...and she was right. Hardly exerting any extra energy, they lifted the unconscious and barely breathing human from the floor by his arms and dragged him outside, intentionally tossing him onto the ground.

As she had asked, Garran was waiting with the speeder just outside the door, and she gave him an intense look to prevent him from saying a word. Once she paid the Weequays and watched them warily continue on down the street, she desperately returned to the dying man she had just rescued. She could hardly breathe herself.

"Dee, who - "

"Just help me get him into the speeder, hurry!"