Anakin once visited Coruscant’s underbelly, as an escort for Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s secret visit. Festering within the 2685th level of Coruscant, it is a feeding ground to the best and worst criminals—bureaucrats among them. Slaves and contraband are bought and sold on the hour, while others gamble with their lives or ill-gotten gains on the roll of a chance cube.

Others are content to seek entertainment, watching holographic projections of exotic dancers in various states of undress—the likes of which will no doubt be traded as slaves in exchange for credits or other services. Games of chance are often obscured under the sheer volume of patrons gathered around the game tables. Smaller round tables serve for social or business gatherings, with more discreet booths tucked into alcoves along the walls.

Having undergone unfinished renovations at some point, the ceiling has been raised to resemble that of a warehouse. Smoke gathers among the durasteel supports, making a buffer for the intense red and violet beams lighting the cesspit below. Zeltron perfumes are among the most common smells in the establishment, while the rolling of dice cubes make for the most recognizable sound above the music. Fights don’t often break out, and violence is often dissuaded at the sight of armoured bouncers several heads taller than most humanoids

Electronic music pulsed through the room at a earsplitting volume, a volume required to overcome the cacophony of noise originating with the club’s patrons. Club Kasakar, an infested pit of sithspit tucked away within the 2685th level of the Planet Coruscant. Despite once known for being the seat of the illustrious Jedi Council and then the capital of the great Imperial Empire, the planet nonetheless had its share of malcontents and scum; one just had to know where to look.

It was in this situation that Calenhad Mobok’tel found himself, sitting alone in a private booth, waiting for instructions about his target. His mark was known as Andrew Highwind, a Force User of some renown, who served as a Jedi General until his failed attempt to stop a civil war on his home planet, against the orders of his superiors. The attempt cost him his people and his position, causing Highwind to vanish from the public eye.

Calenhad leaned back in his chair, reflecting on the information he had received. Highwind’s story struck him with a sense of deja vu. While Highwind failed to defend his planet Calenhad fell into a coma during the Battle of Mygeeto at the climax of the Clone Wars. Highwind lost himself in grief and left anything he had behind. On the other hand, Calenhad never had a chance to mourn his failed cause, conscripted into the Empire after he had awoken as a form of tribute after Grand Admiral Thrawn conquered Umbara.

A quiet beeping noise drew Calenhad’s attention away from his reflection. He reached into his tool pouch and withdrew a small holoprojector. An image of a armored figure appeared, a large hood obscuring most of his features. “I have arrived at the target’s location my master” Calenhad stated, while bowing his head in respect. The action left a bad taste in his mouth, showing such reverence to someone less than half his age. But he needed the resources of Clan Naga Sadow to monitor the galaxy and keep the accursed Force Sensitives from causing even more damage.

“Excellent work. Our intelligence has managed to acquire an up to date image of your target. I trust that you can take it from here.” The call disconnected with a small beep. A few seconds later the holoprojector recieved a new image. Opening it, Calenhad began to study his target’s physical appearance.

Dirty blond hair framed a set of piercing blue eyes, glaring with intesity despite the dark bags under his eyes. A series of scars and burn marks covered his lower face, a testament to Highwind’s ability to survive tragedy and conflict. A slight tan offered the only hint to where the former jedi had resided, somewhere tropical perhaps?

Imprinting the details his mind, Calenhad began to search the club for his target. His eyes roamed across the club, identifying different alien species and the potential threat they may pose. While the club was filled with a multitude of humans no individual bore the distinct burn marks of his target. A sudden weight jabbed Calenhad’s back, startling him out of his search.

“You have no sense of subtlety do you?” A gravelly voice stated. “No need for any sudden movements; I’ve already taken care of the guards, no one is coming to save you.”

Pew! The blaster discharged into Calenhad’s back as he began to turn towards his assailant. The blast was absorbed by the shield generator on Calenhad’s belt as he finished turning around. As his left hand began moving toward his right wrist his opponent leapt backward with a leap fueled by the Force, no doubt sensing the danger about to occur. Calenhad tapped a button on his right wrist firing the custom rocket from his wrist launcher. The projectile exploded in mid air, dousing Highwind’s right side with a liquid which immediately solidified.

“What is this?” The human exclaimed as he attempted to free himself from the unknown material. “I call it Containment Foam” Calenhad began to explain as he reloaded his wrist rocket. “It was not cheap or easy to develop. Decades of research were required to create a fast acting compound in its current state. It was originally intended to be used against the Jedi Order during the Clone Wars but the project took far too long to come to fruition. Nevertheless, it is more than adequate for dealing with you Force Sensitives which breed like Gizka!”

Calenhad paused in his explanation when he witnessed his opponent drop his Bryar blaster in favor for the lightsaber at his hip. Highwind ignited the crimson blade and began swiftly cutting through the containment foam.

“This is why I hate Force Sensitives! Relying on your glowbats to solve every problem!” Calenhad shouted. He stripped off his cloak and unsheathed the Vibro-Voulge on his back. The emerald electro plasma filament flickered to life as Calenhad stood his ground and prepared to face his opponent.