The Vertical City, Nar Shaddaa. They call it the Smuggler's Moon—an apt description based on the myriad of sentients shuffling back and forth with their illegal wares and hidden weapons. The narrow streets below criss-cross endlessly, soaring miles above the planet's surface. Exposed and uncovered, the streets offer a nearly perfect setting for someone with some skills with ranged weapons. A vantage point on the ledge of a towering structure of glass and steel offers a dizzying view of the cityscape.

Simple shops and merchants peddle both legitimate and illegitimate wares. Storefronts are just as plentiful as open-market pop-up tents, and the cantina's adapt the same lowlife air as the rest of the Smuggler's Moon. Enemies could be hidden in plain sight, whether one of the Hutts’ gangsters or mercenaries-for-hire looking to earn some credits. The streets are plagued with violent gangs and the general riff raff of the poor and destitute. They may be an ideal place for blasters, but the winding streets are difficult to disappear from. An opponent would be easily boxed in and simple to finish with a few quick slashes of a lightsaber. The moon is dangerous—even for one gifted in the Force.

Nal Hutta's reflection of Y'Toub did little for the night skies of Nar Shaddaa. Acid rain polluted by the ecumenopolis' power plants stormed over the metallic streets. Lightning stretched like roots to rod towers placed on the upper sectors followed by the clap of thunder. Underneath the base of one of the towers at the edge of a roof Creon’s armor shined off the flash of a bolt. He knelt at the edge of the parapet with his rifle aimed at the entrance to a warehouse. His drone displayed the miniature holoprojection of a Rodian.

“I’ve confirmed her collection for the trafficking transaction. She’s exiting now, cloaked and accompanied by an astromech,” the Rodian said in its native tongue, translated to basic by his language decoder. The informant claimed to have positive ID on the Dread Lord’s Wrath, a bounty Creon couldn’t resist. She had come to Nar Shaddaa as Selika’s enforcer to collect on payment overdue with either credits or corpses.

“Your cut will be sent upon the bounty’s completion. Things could get messy if you stick around,” Creon replied before the holoprojector cut out. He watched through his scope as soon a hooded figure and black astromech exited the warehouse. Creon held a clear shot to the head as she began to slowly walk away. His thoughts and emotions honed his focus around the target, bring his senses to the Force an instinctive familiarity. He could feel that she was Force sensitive with an aura of the Dark Side, which was all the confirmation he needed. Just as his finger started to press against the trigger, he hesitated and removed it from the trigger well. A quick kill could lose potential data from that astromech by means of some memory wipe or self-destruct protocol, he thought. Instead, Creon communicated a voice recognition command prompt to the AI in his helmet and his ascendant drone. He slung away his rifle and opened the interface on his remote pad. In connection with the pad the AI in his helmet automated the hashing algorithm needed to breach the astromech’s data. The syndicate authorization credentials made the BT-1 stop in following its master to upload files.

Nora turned in confusion at her droid’s sudden halt in their walk, “What is it, C-0R4L? Don’t tell me this weather is messing with your circuits.” The droid responded with low toned beeps. In annoyance she opened her datapad’s droid comms program and asked for a status report. It displayed a loading bar for uploading files. “I didn’t tell you to upload anything! Stop this, immediately!” The droid only replied with more beeps but with no message sent to her datapad. “I swear if one of those thugs thinks they can get away with-" her train of thought was cut off from the shock of inner fear in the Force that caused her small hairs to raise on end. Her attention was brought to a descending anthropomorphic figure clad in black metal from a jetpack. She could feel the presence of the Force emanating from its approach. The figure immediately upon landing brought up a slung blaster rifle in which Nora responded with the ignition of her lightsaber. Bolts flew from the blaster’s barrel only to be deflected by Nora’s blue blade. The rapid rounds soon began to graze her cloak and armor and her instincts told her to flee. Nora activated her portable plasma shield and reached her free arm back with an enclosed fist. With the struggle of her might and channeling the force she sent forth a bludgeoning blast of telekinesis. This threw her foe off his feet and a few meters further away. With the moment at her advantage, she drew her pistol, but before she could shoot a nearby drone began to fire. She cursed in having to abandon her droid but chose to retreat into the maze of the streets.

Creon groaned but picked himself back up from the heavy blow and kept a mental note to watch for it again. “Keep pursuit,” he said to his drone relayed from his helmet. As the drone took off in the same direction Nora fled Creon kneeled with his rifle aimed at the astromech. A small downloading percentage icon appeared at the bottom right-hand corner of his visor provided by the AI. He would need to keep within the remote pad’s range until it’s complete before further pursuing his prey.

Nora's pulse quickened with each step, her cerise skin hidden beneath the shadowy embrace of her hooded cloak. The narrow alleys of Nar Shaddaa twisted and turned like a maze of secrets, the air thick with the scent of sizzling street food, stale moisture, and the underlying tension of illicit dealings. Neon lights painted the walls with a kaleidoscope of colors, creating a surreal dance of shadows that seemed to echo the city's clandestine nature.

As she sprinted past market stalls, the alien vendors hawked their exotic wares—a chorus of hissing, clicking, and chittering languages creating a cacophony around her. Narrowly avoiding collisions with beings of various shapes and sizes, Nora moved with a grace honed by her Sith training, her blue hair occasionally catching the glow of passing neon signs.

The relentless pursuit of Creon's drone echoed in the crowded airspace above, its metallic hum blending with the distant sounds of speeders and the indistinct conversations of the city's denizens. Nora's connection to the Force heightened her awareness, the unseen currents guiding her through the chaotic labyrinth.

Her fingers brushed against the cold surface of a durasteel wall, a momentary connection to the city's heartbeat. The rain, tainted by industrial pollutants, left streaks on her cloak as she maneuvered through the narrow corridors. The ever-present danger whispered in the Force, a warning that drove her forward.

In the confined space of a narrow alley, the confrontation intensified. The glow of Nora's azure lightsaber cast flickering reflections on the damp walls, creating a dance of light and shadow. The drone, a dark silhouette against the neon-lit sky, unleashed a relentless barrage of blaster bolts. Each bolt met its match in Nora's skillful saber work, the confined space emphasizing her precision.

The clashing energies reverberated through the alley, a symphony of power echoing through the metallic corridors. Nora seized a moment of advantage, directing a wave of telekinetic force at the drone. The alley momentarily became a battleground, sparks flying as the drone staggered backward.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Nora vaulted onto a nearby crate, her cloak billowing dramatically as she propelled herself to a higher vantage point. The sprawling cityscape unfolded below her, a mesmerizing panorama of towering structures and flickering lights. The pulse of the Smuggler's Moon beat beneath her feet, a living entity of vice and secrecy.

From her elevated position, Nora focused her emerald eyes on the drone, now recovering from the telekinetic assault. The connection to the Force allowed her to sense the intricate dance of machinery within the drone. With determination, she extended her influence, attempting to manipulate the drone's circuits and disrupt its functionality.

The drone, ensnared by Nora's mastery of the Force, emitted sparks and erratic movements. Creon, observing the unfolding chaos through the drone's visual feed, clenched his jaw in frustration. Determined to retrieve the valuable information, he activated a cloaking device on his helmet, blending seamlessly into the shadows below.

In pursuit, Creon sprinted through the crowded streets, his form barely visible as he melded with the shadows cast by towering structures.

Yet by the time Creon had arrived at the alley she was already gone. He saw his droid lay barren and broken at the corner of a wall. The data extraction from Nora’s astromech included the location of her private vessel. The Mandalorian deactivated stealth mode and took to the skies in attempts to presumedly cut off the Sith’s escape off world. He arrived early to the spaceport and was given access with Nora’s clearance codes extracted from her droid. The hangar platform was a partial enclosed indoor bay windowed on side large enough for spacecraft entry and exit. Creon took the extra time in using telekinesis to place the ricochet disks near the ship’s hangar and reactivated his stealth suit to wait for his target’s arrival. Sure enough, after some time, Nora had entered the hangar in a hurry. About halfway towards the vessel did her senses bring her to a halt. In feeling something was wrong she scanned the area and took notice of one of the discs.

As Creon saw her take a step back, he deactivated his stealth suit and kept his rifle aimed towards her, “Don’t move or you’re dead.”

“I’m dead either way. What choice do I have?” No replied.

“Disarm and come compliantly, and I can guarantee your safety.”

“Until you hand me off. You can’t guarantee anything after that. I can pay double for the head of who made the contract.”

“That’s not how this works. I’d get a bad rep if I did that.”

“So it’s ego then? My life for your pride?”

Creon stayed silent and unmoving. Nora applied the Force through her words in reaching to his mind, “The Dread Lord would surely take vengeance. Plagueis will find you, and you won’t be able to stop it. Tell me who sent the bounty, and you won’t be hunted.” The shock of fear elevated Creon’s heart rate. Intrusive thoughts of his friends slain, and his wife taken slave sent a sick feeling in his gut. The Mandalorian took each breath in slow stride and regulated the blood flow of his respiratory system. Less blood flooded the mind and with it quieted the anxiety and allowed his focus to remain constant.

“It’s more to it than that,” Creon replied with strain in his tone. “Your astromech has given me the transponder codes to Aliso City. With your ship I’ll have the front door open to collect your boss for my next bounty. I’ve hated Selikah for years, and you are my ticket to her head.”

“It’s personal, then. Good… Your passion will cause you to fail or be turned.”

“Enough talk,” Creon said and fired a stun ring. To his surprise the shot dispersed as she turned away to run. The Force amplified her speed to exit before Creon could switch to from stun to kill and fire again. He applied the same amplification to his feet in pursuit after her. The pursuit led back to the streets, whereby the time Creon caught up Nora she took off in a taxi hovercraft driven by a droid. Creon holstered his rifle and activated the thrusters of his jetpack. Upon witnessing his approach, the Sith pushed away the droid with telekinesis and took to the driver’s seat and accelerated it further. Creon had to weave through traffic just to keep with the chase and fired blaster bolts from his vambraces in attempts to stop the vehicle. Nora opened the driver’s window and shot back with her blaster with little success. The drive by shootout caused the other vehicles to divert away from the path, giving Creon an open clearing to his target. One of his bolts struck the underside of the craft and struck the repulson engine that generated the lift. The taxi crashed into a toll tunnelway lit by screens of traffic signs and business advertisements. As Creon landed, he saw Nora crawling out of the open window. He used the Force to slow her movement in raising her blaster to fire. He quickly drew the soulscorn from its holster and shot her in the abdomen. Soulscorn’s bolt punched through her armor and caused a searing cauterized opening to her indigo flesh. Her eyes were widened and mouth agape before falling to her knees in struggle to maintain consciousness. Creon walked forward and lifted his free hand. Red tendrils like lightning drew forth from his fingers and drained Nora of her remaining vitality. The pain of getting shot was added upon by the feeling of dehydration and a migraine. Her vision became cloudy before going empty from a second shot fired by his pistol.

“May death grant you rest, and the Force bring forth a new life for you, one more peaceful than this.”

As Nora maintained her focus on disrupting the drone's functionality, the alleyway became a battlefield of wills between her command of the Force and the intricate machinery resisting her influence. Sparks danced around the drone as its systems struggled against the unseen force manipulating its circuits.

Creon, still cloaked and weaving through the crowded streets below, observed the struggle through the drone's visual feed. His frustration turned to determination as he assessed the situation. With a swift and silent approach, he moved closer to the alley's entrance, his Mandalorian training allowing him to navigate the chaotic environment with precision.

Nora, feeling the strain of her efforts, gritted her teeth. The drone's resistance was formidable, but she couldn't afford to let the valuable information fall into the wrong hands. Drawing upon her Sith training, she delved deeper into the dark currents of the Force, amplifying her influence.

The drone emitted a final burst of sparks, its systems overwhelmed by the relentless power of Nora's manipulation. It crashed to the ground, disabled and defeated. Nora, breathing heavily, deactivated her lightsaber and surveyed the alley, her emerald eyes scanning for any sign of further threats.

Creon, realizing that his attempt to retrieve the information had failed, weighed his options. With the drone disabled, he knew he had to act swiftly. Deactivating his cloaking device, he stepped into the alley, blaster rifle raised. The tension between them crackled in the air as they locked eyes.

"You're quite the challenge," Creon remarked, a hint of respect in his voice. "But this isn't over."

Nora, still on guard, nodded in acknowledgment. "You won't find what you seek here. The information is secure."

Creon hesitated for a moment, then activated his jetpack, ascending into the night sky. As he disappeared among the towering structures of Nar Shaddaa, Nora watched, her senses attuned to the fading presence. The Smuggler's Moon returned to its clandestine rhythm, the rain cleansing the city of their fleeting confrontation.

Nora sighed, the weight of the encounter settling upon her shoulders. The dangerous dance of Nar Shaddaa continued, and she knew that her path as the Dread Lord's Wrath was far from over. With a determined stride, she melted back into the shadows of the city, disappearing like a phantom among the twisted alleys. The echoes of her footsteps blended with the distant hum of speeders, leaving only the whispers of the Force lingering in the rain-soaked air.