The sun had long set on Coruscant. Though it was night, the city lights kept everything a lit as though it were day. On the raised streets and platforms the citizenry moved about seeking pleasure and fortune, and a few conducting business even at this late hour. All the while speeders, jet bikes and ships of various sizes cruised about overhead, all moving along pre-determined flight paths. To Nairn this was the norm. As an Imperial Agent, he had seen many similar or exotic locations across the Empire. None ever compared to the streets of Coruscant. It was here that he was raised. Starting off as a homeless orphan, it was almost shocking to see how Nairn had changed. Gone was the starved and ragged boy and in his place now stood a thirty five year old man who had risen through the imperial ranks. He had sharp features with an angular long face and a pointed nose. His hair was jet black and was combed back with trimmed sideburns running down the flanks of his face. Physically he had a lithe athletic build, though at 5'11 he did not strike as an entirely threatening figure. He did not wear his imperial regalia opting instead for a more roguish attire which amounted to a gray work coat, cargo pants, black boots and a plain white shirt. Covering his head he wore a simple cap that made him appear all the more common. At his side he wore an S-5 heavy blaster pistol. Though it was an old blaster, it was a classic and somewhat desirable weapon on the civilian market. Nairn opted to use it partially because he enjoyed the pistol, but mostly because he didn't want to stand out with a standard imperial blaster. Considering his job discretion and blending in were always preferred circumstances for agents.
In this case, it would suit Nairn well. He had no specific objective. As an Agent he had to sniff out plots of rebellion or sedition amongst the populace. The Rebels were a tenacious bunch, yet that didn't stop the Empire. For Nairn it was only a matter of time before the scum were rooted out, and it was here where he could do so. Acting as a regular citizen, he'd blend in with the crowds, go to café's or bars, talk with strangers, listen in on conversations, and of course contact other agents or anonymous sources. Being someone who had grown up on the streets, he felt a connection with it. There were no secrets to be hid here. He heard everything and knew more faces then one could think possible. He was the king of information here, and it was the way he liked it.
He stepped into the establishment, "Grixie's", and took a seat at the bar. The usual crowd was in there. A large assortment of mostly young 20 somethings who preferred to drink and proclaim their independence while burning away the credits their parents loaned to them.
"Hey soldier boy. You look thirsty." A pleasing voice said to him.
He looked with a judgmental and annoyed scowl at the bar tender, Deevra. She was an alien of the Codru-Ji species. For the most part her species, like many other species, shared many similarities with humans. The only difference in appearance where her pointed ears and of course the second pair of arms adding up to a four armed figure. Other than that she appeared to be mostly a normal red headed woman.
"You shouldn't call me that," he said sternly "you know I don't like it when people know what I am."
She waved one of her four hands in mockery at him, "Oh please, like any of this lot care about that fact."
Her top two hands were already moving to get Nairn a drink will the other two cleaned shot glasses.
"Corellian Brandy, on the rocks," she said sliding the class over to him.
"Thanks," Nairn took a sip and enjoyed the burn as it went down. As he put the glass back down, he couldn't help but scowl at a group of drunken university students bumping into him as they passed.
"When did all these damned kids start coming here Dee?"
Deevra leaned on the elbows of her upper arms on the bar while her lower ones rested on her hips. "Narin you know as well as I they've always been like this, we just got old and tired of their crap."
"We're not that fuckn old," he replied taking another sip.
"We're old enough," she turned her head as another patron called for her. "I'll be back. Let me know if you need more brandy."
She turned and left Nairn as he watched her walk away. There was a subtle sway to her hips he rather enjoyed. He recalled an old saying, about how watching a beautiful woman walk away was a wondrous sight in its own right. Nairn however wouldn't mind if she was walking towards him in a more private setting. Absent mindedly I thought about how his xenophobic superiors would react to such a thing. Any of his rivals would love to shame him with dirt like that. He allowed himself a chuckle. Maybe someday when fewer eyes are watching him.
As he took another sip, he felt a peculiar chill. It was an instinct of his, something he couldn't explain yet was always right. It was a feeling warning him that danger lurked nearby, and that he should be alert. Calmly and casually he turned himself around leaning with his back against the bar and popping his hat back. To anyone he might appear as any other patron at the bar, and yet Nairn was using that discretion to his advantage. He looked about the crowded establishment scanning for minute details that might give a threat away and identify it for him. That would help this feeling of warning go away. Ha saw people dancing, drinking, conversing, at least one fight breaking out, though none of that was out of the ordinary.
One thing however caught is attention. Against the back wall, there was a booth shaded in an ambient blue light. The light was dull and was there more for aesthetic mood coloring. A large portion of the booth, like the others around it, was hidden in shadow. It was in this booth Nairn saw a strange figure sitting there lounging in the shadows. With the crowd of patrons between him and the shadows covering the stranger, Nairn was unable to discern any definable features of the man. The only thing he knew, was his instinct which told him that the stranger was watching Nairn.
Casually he strode about, passing some patrons and interacting with others. All the while he knew the stranger was watching his movements. He made is way towards the man. Nairn made no threatening moves as he approached, no need for this to get bloody. The stranger looked at Nairn as he approached, and cocked his head allowing the blue light to expose his face. He looked young with hair that was cropped short and probably brown though it was difficult to say for certain with the light. The strangers legs where kicked up on the table. He wore what appeared to be combat boots, and cargo pants with a light grey city camouflage pattern. The stranger wore a skin tight shirt which accented his musculature, with the addition of what appeared to be armor plates on the chest and shoulders. Some kind of sidearm was holstered in a side strap, and Nairn noticed an assortment of ammo pouches and other cloth compartments attached to the man's belt. Finally there was sheathed knife attached to his point, with a stylized skull forming the pommel.
Nairn approached and pointed at an empty seat at the booth. "This seat taken?"
The stranger shock his head with a grin, "Not at all partner. Take a load off."
Nairn noted the odd twang in the man's accent and made a mental note of it. "You're not from this sector of space are you?"
"The accent give it away?" the stranger asked taking a sip of his drink.
"Indeed, Outer Rim?"
"Beyond it actually, from the planet of Catachan. You've probably never heard of it."
The stranger wasn't wrong in that regard. The man offered to shake Nairn's hand, "Name is Nix."
"Nairn." He said shaking Nix's hand. "What brings you to Coruscant Nix?"
"Specific work," Nix replied. The man shot Nairn an unsettling grin, "Messy stuff honestly. You'll probably have no interest in that."
Nairn nodded towards the pistol, "Bounty work?"
Nix shrugged, "of a sort. How about you?"
"Freight work. Trips bring me here a lot. Works bad but the pay is worth it," Nairn replied using one of his common covers.
That made Nix laugh hysterically. Nairn was about to ask why, but Nix told him anyway.
"You? A freighter? You're too clean for the job. I'd try a better cover brother."
Now it was Nairn's turn to laugh, "A better cover you say? I didn't think I was so obvious."
"You made the mistake of coming up with a lie. Best cover story in my opinion is the truth. No one ever expects the truth to actually be true."
"I can think of a few persons, who would disagree with you there." He took another sip of the brandy, "We can't all be so reckless."
"So say some, but I can afford to be so."
"Oh? And why's that?" Nairn asked inquisitively.
Nix cocked his head with a sneer, "Ever heard the saying 'I've got an Ace up my sleeve'? I'm the ace."
"That so?" Nairn asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Someone's overconfident."
"I've got good reason to be, not that it matters much for you."
Nairn didn't like the sound of that, "I take it now you tell me why that is the case, and if I'm guessing right, why you've been eyeballing me since I walked in this place."
"It's nothing personal," Nix replied as he lowered his feet off the table and back to the ground. "My master has preordained you to be an annoyance. I remove annoyances. Sorry about that."
Nairn instinctively reached for his blaster. Slowly while keeping his movements hidden under the table, he drew the blaster.
"I think you'll find me to be more than an annoyance."
Nix shook his head with a chuckle, "And I think that right now, you'll pull the trigger on that peashooter and find out how tough I really am."
Was this man insane? Nairn thought to himself. Who in their right mind asks another man to shoot him willingly? Nairn hesitated and Nix continued talking.
"Allow me to put this in perspective Nairn." Nix drew his own large pistol casually and laid it on the table. The pistol was roughly rectangular in shape, and the entire barrel shroud appeared to be some kind of compensator. The weapon had a large forward magazine, and by the looks of things, it appeared to be some kind of large caliber slug thrower. Nairn's blaster suddenly felt grossly inadequate, even though he knew size wasn't everything.
"Just so we're clear here, allow me to give you a proper introduction. I am Vindicare assassin designation N1-X. I've been raised to be an expert marksmen since I was ten, and trained in a hell of a lot of things that make me nearly super human. Honestly you don't have a chance."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Nix shrugged as he holstered his pistol, "Unlike my more depressing compatriots, I tend to be a bit more personal and understanding. I like to let my targets know that I'm after them. Tends to ease their minds a bit in the end."
"You're over confidence will be your undoing then. As you no doubt have surmised, I am an agent of the Galactic Empire, and my combat abilities are nothing to slouch at," he replied threateningly, unsure if the threat would have any affect.
"We shall see about that," Nix said rising casually to leave. Nairn rose and stood in his way.
"Understand this Nix, whatever it is you and your master want, remember this. I am the Empire and the Empire is me. You kill me and you'll be hunted down, and there will be nothing you or anyone else can do."
Nairn stood his ground in the face of Nix who still stood un-fazed. The assassin pulled out a smoke and placed in his lips. He pointed to the bar as he lite the smoke.
"Nice piece of xenos arse there." He said pointing directly at Deevra who was serving different patrons. "If I was you, I'd tap that, and soon."
Nairne scowled at Nix. "Careful who you point at. You might not like what happens next."
His hand tensed over his blaster. Nix simply chuckled again and casually shouldered past Nairn.
"Oh by the way!"
Nairn turned towards Nix.
"Thanks for the drinks," Nix said as he walked away and disappeared in the crowd.
Nairn sat back down at the booth. He felt physically exhausted and wanted to rest. His heart rate was up and his temple pounded. He almost wanted to draw his blaster there and shoot the bastard, but that would be a bad choice. Too many civilians, his cover could be compromised, and he wasn't sure about how much this Nix said was true in regards to the man's combat prowess. He took a breath and another sip of his brandy. This was the one thing he hated with his job, to many people trying to kill you. What was said disturbed Nairn. If he was considered an annoyance, what was he an annoyance to? On top of that what this Nix had said just didn't make sense: Catachan, ballistic weapons, vindicare assassins? He'd never heard of these things. Chances were it all could be nothing, but he didn't know that. Not to mention a threat on his life, no matter what, was always something to get anxious about in this line of work. Almost absent mindedly he looked at where Nairn had sat and saw three empty glasses. That bastard, he thought as saw Deevra approach him from the bar.
"You okay?" she asked oblivious to the danger.
Nairn nodded, "Just more work to do. It never ends."
"Tell me about it," she nodded to the empty glasses "your friend coming back?"
With a smile Nairn pulled out the credits to pay for the drinks.
"He had to run. We're both working on something, for Emperor and country." He lied knowing full well she didn't need to know the truth. Ignorance is bliss after all.
"Fine by me. Let me know if you need anything else," she said taking the glasses and starting to walk away.
"Dee?" he called after her. She paused turning around to hear what he had to say.
"What time you off?"
She looked at a watch on one of her wrists, "two hours from now. Why?"
"Need some company after your shift?"
She smiled wickedly at that.
"I think I can put some time aside." She replied going back to work with a little extra swing in her step.
Best to enjoy what you've got while you've got it in this line of work. Though in Nairn's case he was going to make damned sure that what he's got would stay with him for quite a while longer. He continued to sit at the booth sipping at his drink and waiting till Deevra's shift ended. All the while he thought of what he would do next, how he would take on this new threat, and who he should contact. Just another night of the game of shadows Nairn so often play. Let the games begin.