You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. A popular drinking and dining establishment located in the city of Mos Eisley on the desert world of Tatooine, Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina is run by the Wookiee Chalmun.

A single story building made of sandstone, the cantina consists of a bar area, private offices, a VIP lounge, a private hangar, a basement, and a phony shop in the rear. It caters to all sorts from across the galaxy, with spacious areas and wide arched doorways to allow patrons of all sizes passage. Unsurprisingly, a fair share of these guests lend to the cantina’s seedy reputation.

Entering through a small portal on one side of the building, a small passage curves around into the main bar area. Featuring many themed spigots resembling the heads of IG-series assassin droids, the bar is capable of producing several dozen drinks of Chalmun's own concoctions. Surrounded by eight different alcoves filled with stools, tables, and even a bandstand, the bar wraps from the public area around into the private back room.

Descending a handful of steps, Shanree entered the dimly lit, smoke filled cantina from the cool night outside. It was one of those nights when both suns were glaring down on the far side of the planet leaving the shadowed-half bathed in a cool, bordering on chilling air and almost complete darkness. It was for that reason tonight had been determined by Mission Command back at Army Special Activities Group to approach and neutralize the target. Draped under a nondescript shawl he’d pilfered, he kept his head covered as he entered the joint and scoped out the dozens of patrons within. Reflexively he subdued his own presence in the Force, knowing full well his target was Sensitive.

A Miraluka, Shanree did not see with eyes for he had none. Instead his People relied upon a sort of Force Sight that was not exactly analogous to visual sight, but he often found it useful to describe it in terms that Sighted Beings like Humans would understand. This Force Sight, in conjunction with his strong connection to the Force, informed him in great detail about the aliens filling the place– where they were from, what they did, what was on their mind, and to some degree where they thought they were going. It was not difficult to spot the lone Ewok in the cantina and not just because of his stature. The pint-sized creature was engaged in a heated negotiation with some Jawas, who would have leered down at the Ewok had they been standing and not seated at a booth. The Arconan was easily identifiable by the way his mind stood out from the rest of the crowd: he was self-assured and directed, an arrogance bordering on the kind of ego Shanree couldn't stand. He was purposeful and here on a mission. This was in contrast to the farmers letting loose, the merchants working deals, and the people along the walls burying themselves in their cups to escape their problems.

Saddling up to the bar he kept his head lowered so that the shawl’s makeshift hood obscured the smooth sockets where a Human’s eyes would have been. The Bartender, used to all sorts obscuring their faces, took no notice and ambled up to him, “What’ll you have?” “Something to wet my mouth, I’m not looking to get drunk”, Shanree told the man evenly.

Shanree laid down some credit chips which the Bartender swept up and walked away with, returning a moment later with a pint of something frothy but cool. Shanree accepted the drink and took a sip, immediately hating it (it was sticky and strong smelling like the bar) but he made no sign of that to avoid drawing attention to himself. He sat there at the bar quietly minding his drink and his own business like several other patrons, looking the part of a wayfarer like any other. His patience was rewarded after about fifteen minutes when the Jawas, excitedly chittering in their language, stood from their seats and left the Ewok. Work’t drubbed his fuzzy little fist on the table in frustration, having apparently failed to secure whatever it was he’d been negotiating for.

Good.

Now was the time. The twin suns were down and it was dark and late out. The streets and back alleys of Mos Eisley would be as empty as they ever would be and all he had to do was wait for the Ewok to leave the well lit and well populated cantina bar. He waited for the frustrated little alien to get up, gather his belongings, and exit the establishment but he remained seated and Shanree could feel through the Force the Arconan’s intention to remain where he was for his own reasons. No good, he would have to be motivated to leave.

Shanree finished his glass and flagged the barkeep down for two more of the same. He picked up the two glasses and stumbled uneasily in the direction of the Ewok’s table. As he approached the small alien took notice of him. Shanree smiled from under his hood and mumbled something unintelligible, before he faked a stumble and spilled both drinks all over Work’t.

“Why’d you go and do that!?” Work’t leapt from his spot at the booth, his front covered in the dripping remains of the foul drinks, “You clumsy idiot! Look what you did!” “Me?” Shanree slurred his speech, speaking down to the Ewok with an accusatory finger, “You tripped me! I demand you pay for new ones!” Work’t snarled when the Humanoid towering over him jabbed him with that finger, “Touch me again and I’ll keep that hand.” Really getting into the drunk and angry act now Shanree repeated the jab, “What are you gonna do about it, Little Bear? You want to take this outside?” The creature glared up at the drunk humanoid, aware of the growing number of patrons peering over the rim of their drinks in their direction, “No, I don’t have time for this. Solution, take the trash out for me.”

Shanree stumbled backwards in genuine surprise when a B2 Super Battle Droid took two steps forward immediately at Work’t command, emerging from a shadow behind the booth the Ewok had just been occupying. Shanree's lips momentarily curved into a frown. SAG intel hadn’t mentioned anything about a guard droid, they’d really dropped the ball on that. It changed nothing, however, and the mission still needed to be carried out to completion. Shanree put his hands up placatingly as though he was understanding the massive mistake he’d just made, but in a sudden shrug of his shoulders, the shawl fell loose and two lightsabers flew into those waiting hands. The one in his right leapt to life with a snap-hiss of emerald light and as it spun it passed through one of the B2’s out-stretched manipulators at the wrist, severing it with a squeal of metal and sparks.

All around the cantina patrons dove for the ground, upended tables, or made for the exit. Shanree spun around and under the B2’s other manipulator. The saber in his left hissed to life as well as it arc’d around in a flat circle with the aim of removing the Arconan’s head from his shoulders before he could react. Caught off-guard, Work’t nevertheless reacted to the tingle of sensation that ran down his spin a moment before the attack had begun. A golden beam of light emerged from a small but intricate lightsaber that came to his fist in time to parry the emerald’s blow..

The first two seconds of combat instantly evoked an immediate sense of dread in Work’t. Despite his paired Sabers being the match in size for the emerald pair wielded by Shanree blow after blow came from the green fleshed creature, each barely caught and only with aid from the Force. Solution slowed the tall creature slightly, but only as much as it took for the Miraluka to twist an arm slightly and deflect bolt and after bolt back. Solution moved quickly, evading the bolts with its superior intelligence and guidance through the Mechu-Deru bond for the most part, but the glancing blows were adding up rapidly.

“You!” Work’t bellowed, voice scratchy and dry. He threw a table, which Shanree dodged effortlessly. Then he raised an eyebrow as the table hit Work’t himself backward in what seemed an uncontrolled move of idiotic misuse of the Force. The table and Ewok landed with a dull bounce, throwing up sand from the dusty floor of the barroom.

“Are you really so uncontrolled that…” The Miraluka trailed off, watching as his Lightsabers sparked and trembled in his hands. “I see. Clever, but it won’t save you.” The blades were unstable, sparking and spluttering. His left blade was down to half length, the emitter clearly malfunctioning. The right saber snapped off entirely, the containment field failing and the end of the Lightsaber suddenly melting into superheated slag. He reached out with the force and shielded the remaining saber, blade snapping back to almost three quarters length, switching to a one-handed grip.

Even as the first Saber had broken, Shanree had been acting. Work’t dodged, the broken body of Solution thrown at incredible speed by the Miraluka. Work’t threw the table aside, rolling into the aegis of a side bar. Thanks to his height, he thought himself hidden. He glanced around for an escape route, an advantage of any sort. Shanree, staring directly at the spot thanks to his aided sight began to pace forward.

“I do not need my Lightsabers to defeat you, Ewok.” He said, voice neutral and calm now the pretence was no longer required. “Behold.” Work’t felt a tremble in the Force, his precognition screaming as the room began to shake.

Solution went sailing backwards, at the suggestion of one of Shanree’s outstretched palms and the Force, into a pillar along a wall. The old soldier tossed his remaining saber, like a spear, into the droid’s face-plate. The saber, finally succumbing to the Ewok’s sabotage, sputtered off; the Droid’s internals screeched as they were instantly super-heated and then cooled. Shanree regretted the loss of one of his Wroshyr Wood sabers; these weapons had been with him a long time and he wasn’t happy.

Perhaps Zakai might find a way to make it whole again?

He considered this for the briefest of moments as he paced towards where the little Ewok was hiding like a coward, like all Arconans did. His feet slid apart, widening his stance, as Shanree ignored the Cantina’s patrons skirting the establishments walls and making for the exit. He flexed his knees a little and took a long, slow, deliberate breath. As he exhaled that breath slowly, releasing some of his frustration as he did, he reached into the air ahead of him. Looking at the ceiling above the bar, he grasped at something unseen with his fingers. With a tremendous pull of his entire body, he tore at that invisible thing. The ceiling above the bar rumbled a moment, before a plug of adobe and duracrete dropped to the cantina floor with a crash.

Dust and air raced past Shanree as he stood there, arms still outstretched. There were startled screams and coughs from those still inside as they scrambled to leave. The Bartender, whom Shanree could sense hiding under a table to his left, was moaning– though not in pain. Poor guy was imagining the repair costs against his revenue stream. Shanree felt for him, he did, but the mission was his only priority, not the fortunes of an Outer-Rim bar owner.

He expanded his senses and examined the ruined bar and the pile of rubble that now covered it. He approached slowly, wary of a trap, as he peered with his Force Sight over the pile looking for evidence of Work’t alive or dead. Shanree’s eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated, growing more concerned with each heartbeat as he failed to identify the small furry mess, smashed beneath a chunk of duracrete, that had been the Arconan. Shanree was confused momentarily as he searched– there was no sign of the Ewok to be seen, alive or dead.

What…

There was a metallic clatter on the ground beneath him, distracting him from the growing sensation the Ewok had hidden his presence. He looked down in time to see the dark gray metal of a lightsaber emitter roll to a stop beside his ankle. Without thinking he lifted that foot a moment before the golden tip emerged with a snap-hiss. The saber, as if possessed by an unseen spirit, spun around its length on the floor creating a circle of whooshing light that threatened to sever his feet from his legs. Shanree grimaced, biting his bottom lip as he hopped away from the saber with the instincts of a trained Jedi.. Work’t emerged from another section of the bar, apparently untouched by the collapsing ceiling, holding something that Shanree couldn’t immediately identify. His instincts took over while he was still in the air– Work’t released his hold on the mechanism of his energy bow which loosed a bolt of plasma at him. Shanree contorted his body with practiced ease in the air, barreling over his shoulder, over the top of the bolt, landing on one knee– something Erinyes had once teased that she called “The Hero Landing”.

Looked like she was right about something after all.

Work’t snarled, baring his sharp little teeth, as he loosed another bolt. Without looking up from his landing Shanree’s palm moved with preternatural speed. He held the open hand before him as he stood, with the glowing plasma of the energy bow’s bolt thrumming in the air between them. The Ewok’s beady little eyes were as wide as they’d ever been as he stared in disbelief at the suspended bolt. The Miralukan stood with a smirk on his face. Shanree reached out with his free hand and grasped at the air and tugged roughly. Work’t was snatched forward by the Force and flew towards Shanree’s outstretched hand, narrowly missing the still suspended bolt. Work’t struggled against the unseen hands holding him and he lashed out with every technique at his command– but Shanree weathered them behind an aegis of the manifested Force. The little Ewok wailed as his collar found its way into Shanree’s hand and he was held there, in the air, at arm’s length.

Shanree pulled the Ewok in close to his face, “The Consul told me about what your Clan got up in the Ethereal Realm. I know about those Taldryanites…”

Work’t’s terrified little eyes widened even further, “I swear! I had nothing to do with that!”

Coward.

“Doesn’t matter”, Shanree moved the diminutive bear over several inches, allowing the suspended bolt’s thrum to vibrate the back of his skull, “Any last words?”

The Ewok panted heavily before speaking, “Yeah, just two: Frack you!”

There was a click and a chirp between them. Shanree glanced down to see a small explosive in the Ewok’s paw, one last thing pulled in haste from its utility belt. Shanree’s open palm released the plasma bolt which immediately buried itself in the back of the Ewok’s skull. There was no time to react as Work’t’s fingers went limp and the explosive fell from his grasp. The Force surged through and around his entire body as he lunged away, throwing the lifeless Ewok as he did. The explosion filled the Cantina with a cacophony of fire and rubble. Shanree emerged from a cloud of dust from behind a pillar along a wall several meters from where he’d been standing only moments before. His ears rang painfully and his thoughts swam as his senses tried to put the room back into some semblance of order. He stumbled forward and caught himself with a hand on something cool and metal. Shanree looked down and saw that he was resting himself on the B2’s head, and laughed– it was a giddy laugh, a surprised laugh that he was still here and still alive.

He limped out of the Cantina clutching the saber he pulled from the B2’s faceplate, and thanked the Force that he would live to see another day.

Work’t managed in the moments before the building began coming apart and toward him to throw up a barrier. As Shanree pushed each part of the building’s structure; bricks, mortar and dust all colliding together and growing into a ball around the Ewok. Work’t pushed back, holding open space around him, his every effort pressed into stopping the ball of deadly materials around him from crushing him.

Around the street, now visible due to the now much smaller building focused around Work’t, the pair saw the crowded streets recoil in horror. The crowd trembled, not fleeing but watching with jaws slackly open and loose items dropping out of numb hands.

Shanree Force pulled his Lightsaber out his own hand, levitating it back to his belt as it snapped off. He raised his hands, making it clear who was in control of the situation. His quick assessment of the crowd showed no more droids waiting in ambush. He pressed harder and put his full energy into the telekinetic assault. The Ewok disappeared, life energy slowly draining away as his Force presence dwindled. The building cracked and crumbled and through up huge plumes of dust as the grinding finally came to a halt. The Ewok was no longer present in his sense.

He turned and began to walk away. He did not need to utter a word. The deed was done.

Underneath the pile, Work’t continued to channel concealment. He felt his arm was shattered, bones shattered under the weight of a crushing blow. The small cavity space in the sand that he’d pushed down into was almost up his mouth, trying to drown him. Gaps in the structures press gave him air enough for now, but how long would it be before someone dug him out. His entire body screamed to release his power into healing.

In agony, alone and lost in the dark again, Work’t endured. His eyes glowed a neon yellow, mouth moving ever so slightly.

“I will find you, assassin.”