A cesspool of the downtrodden, the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa is home to both the misfortunate and criminals alike. Offering their protection for credits, the criminal organizations that control the sector tax the populace outrageous sums. Unable to provide these fees, refugees are forced to work under hazardous conditions producing glitterstim and adrenals for their overseers. Some of these refugees are addicted to the substances themselves—for which the cartels increase the price of their tithes in exchange for a share of the product.

Crammed with stalls and makeshift hovels, several of the sector’s inhabitants find refuge on the streets and in the alleyways. Those who managed to avoid the dangers of drug production can be found selling their limited and often defective goods to others. Behind these stalls, a selective stock of black market wares is hidden, reserved for mercenaries and thugs.

Littered with garbage, it is obvious that no maintenance droids have been programmed to maintain the sector. The surrounding towers have fallen into decay, bits of debris falling every so often into the middle of the street. The duracrete streets are covered in a film of filth and chemicals from the abandoned warehouses, making movement cumbersome when traveling through the most inhabited areas.

Patrols armed with blasters and vibroswords come through these areas regularly, making a show of force to advertise the merits of their ‘protection’ while extorting the occasional shopkeeper. Screams and shouts are a common enough sound, which is never in the refugees’ best interests to interfere in.

You’ve been tasked with the retrieval of data from a thief who absconded with sensitive information. Not only is this to safeguard the Brotherhood, there’s also a substantial, but little-known bounty on the target, and the goodwill and favor to be earned from the source the data was thieved from. Of course, not everyone will go along with it. There may be those who desire to ensure the thief succeeds, and the source of the data is embarrassed. There are harsh penalties for those who return unsuccessful, and rewards for those who ensure the safe delivery of the information. No matter which side you’re on, you know success is vital.

Ellac stared at the data pad in his hand, listening to the bustling ambience of the Nar Shadda streets as he fidgeted with the hood of his cloak. Growing up, he’d always hated the thought of this place, but now he couldn’t help but feel a vague belonging to it all. This is the place where people like him would come to find themselves, or to lose themselves, depending on who you ask. Some come to find their fortunes as Bounty Hunters or mercenaries while others seek to forget their past and start anew. And then there’s the scum like this who come to hide; Ellac swiped through the list of bounties on his device, stopping on one Lester Makk’aal. ’Male Ryn. Charged with theft, forgery, murder, and blackmail,’ Ellac read to himself, his eye widening as he glanced up at the reward. ’You must’ve really rubbed someone the wrong way if they’re offering that much.’ Ellac slid the data pad into his pack as he noticed a shadow suddenly shift in a nearby alleyway. ’And so it begins.’

The Knight ducked into the alley as his hand instinctively fell to the lightsaber on his belt. “It’s always an alley. It can never be a cantina or a diner, it’s always just an alley,” he muttered to himself.

“That’s because alleyways truly are an ingenious way to hide in plain sight.” A soft spoken aristocratic voice chimed from the shadows before stepping into the flickering alley lights above them.

Ellac tilted his head a slightly as he tried to register the sight before him. The cloaked figure before him remained entirely a dark silhouette save for a fluffy muzzle poking out from under their hood. Tilting their head in the same manner as Ellac, the figure pulled the hood of their cloak back to reveal the rest of his head, a tuft of his platinum-blonde fur falling between his two large canine ears. “Ellac Conrat, I presume?” he said, his sharp teeth causing Ellac’s head to turn a little more.

“Who’s asking?”

“Me,” the Shistavanen said with a toothy smirk.

Ellac’s eye glared at the stranger, his hand still hanging near his lightsaber. “Who are you?”

“My name is Mune,” he said, extending his hand toward Ellac. “I’m a member of the Clan Scholae Palatinae, same as you.”

Ellac tensed muscles began to relax before he remembered the first time he’d met another clan member in the jungles of Arx. “What are you doing here?” the Knight asked coldly.

“Same as you, I’d wager. The retrieval of stolen information sensitive to the Brotherhood,” Mune said, shifting his weight to one side.

Ellac lowered his guard a little. “What do you know?”

Mune smiled before responding. “He’s a small time Bounty Hunter. He’s made a name for himself in a few different systems, but he’s not so well known here on Nar Shadda. He was paid by an anonymous source to acquire some of our information, after which he came here to hide,” Mune said as he looked up at the towering structures around them. “He couldn’t have picked a better place.”

Ellac grit his teeth as he reluctantly moved his hand away from his lightsaber. “Well, what are we waiting for then?”

Mune, eyes scanning the passing residents of Nar Shadaa, thought on the information their intelligence network had provided. Just thinking about it made him wonder about the stories of each person moving about their lives just beyond the alley he and his clan’s mate stood in. Nar Shadaa’s refugee sector was sure to contain more than one person of interesting background; with a sigh, he turned his glance back on the human.

“Waiting for?” The Shistavanen perked his ears. He quickly grasped the topic of conversation again, “Ah. The thief. What we are waiting for is…”

His eyes skimmed the passersby, critically shifting from one figure to the next. He idly opened his mind to the Force, the action second nature to him, as second nature as the faint influx of images that danced on the very edge of his consciousness. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on bringing some clarity to the pictures and actively drew upon the Force.

“Mune? Are you even listening?” Ellac verbally prodded.

To Ellac, it appeared as if the Shistavanen was staring off into the distance, absent from the current circumstances. It was as if his companion was daydreaming on the job when they were supposed to be hunting someone down. He reached out a hand to touch the other man’s shoulder with a sigh of impatience, but Mune was quick to flinch away. Mune blinked his ruby eyes at the human before offering a sheepish grin.

“Come,” was all Mune said before he slipped into the flow of foot traffic.

Together they made their way through the pedestrian traffic of the sector. Voices were a cacophony of noise all around them. The racket of merchants in their stalls peddling their likely defective wares was met by the haggling of unsuspecting parties. It was a boisterous knot of conversation that made it difficult to separate one voice from another. Mune’s ears laid back against his head against the racket that was nigh on dizzying. His eyes flicked from one face to the next, but whether he saw any of them was another thing altogether. He held onto his connection with the Force, using it to guide his steps. Mune stopped suddenly, and Ellac nearly walked right into him.

“So, you’ve only made Dark Jedi Knight, huh?”

“Small talk?” Ellac arched a brow. “Listen, I’m not interested in being friends…”

“Obviously,” Mune responded. “Even the way you stand says; back off, stay out of my business.”

“You talk like you think you know me,” Ellac’s said in an off-handed manner.

“Perhaps.”

Ellac was uncertain how to respond, no sarcastic quip on hand.

“Drop your weapons, Brotherhood cronies,” said a hooded figure, levelling a blaster on them. More than a few blasters aimed at the two hunters.

Ellac spotted the Ryn first, among the small group. Perhaps he’s a little bigger than a small-time thief…

Of course, neither Palatinaeans disarmed themselves; to do so would be sure capture or even death. The tension slowly ratcheted up. The Ryn, growing angry with their refusal to comply, barked out his order again, “Drop your weapons or we will kill you here and now. Don’t think I won’t!”

“Come off it. You stole from the Brotherhood. Give us the data, and you may just make it to nightfall,” Ellac bluffed.

“Liar! You mean to kill me!”

“Only if necessary… I have no intention of killed anybody,” Mune answered, his hands held loosely at his sides. “Give us the data; make this easy on yourself.”

The crowds of miscreants began to disperse some, seeing the alteration and unwilling to put themselves in harm’s way. They, however, did not leave the area, instead choosing to watch. There was something to be said for a good show.

The Ryn gave the signal, and his thugs fired. At Mune’s back, he heard the snap-hiss of the Knight’s lightsaber activating. The Force coalesced before him, the air flickering where blaster bolts dispersed against the invisible field the Shistavanen summoned before his person. At the exact moment, he heard the crackle of deflected bolts by Ellac. I guess that means we are doing this the hard way, then. In a quick motion, Mune dropped his barrier and summoned both of his lightsabers to his open palms. Violet and blue plasma crackled to life.