Follow the Wolves
Join Date: May 2004
Location: between my ears
Current Game: Dead Space
Jango departed the transport along with the rest of the night goers. This sector on Corellia had definately earned its reputation. Dazzling lights flashed and flickered from the buildings in a flashy method that seemed almost over the top for Jango's tastes. Sure, it was one of the largest night-time entertainment districts in the Republic, but it didn't make it any more attractive to Jango. Massively large crowds moved about from place to place, with the majority of the crowd being the young or overly oppulent. Surprisingly, it wasn't all too difficult to spot the oppulent males: they were often escorted by one or more very attractive and horrendously underdressed females of either the twi'lek or human species.
Not too surprisingly to Jango, it was also quite easy for him to notice the prostitutes out making their nightly runs. But the ones on the street weren't the ones that made the big bucks. The ones that brought in the big credits would be the ones inside the bars, cantinas, and casinos. Especially the casinos since the casino owners were heavily rumored to offer the dancing girls for thousands of credits to VIPs for just a single night. Rumors or not, it was supposed to be outlawed, but everyone knew it existed, even the Corellian Law Enforcement. The multitude of prostitutes, however, reflected one of Corellia's on-going problems: a very large network of illegal distribution centers, or a Black Market. Although the fabled 'Exchange' had long since been routed from the Galaxy by the Republic, private runners had since risen to take its place generations ago. The massive-scale prostitution was just a more local way for these private black market runners to have easy access to extra funding for their operations.
There were rumors of a new organization coming to power that was helping to solidify the black market under a single power, but Jango knew the truth: it already existed. He knew this from several past bounties he had collected for this new 'Black Sun' that it would soon wield the same power that the Exchange once had. But that wouldn't have any effect on the illegal prostitution on Corellia. There was really big money in prostitution and more than one black market operator relied on it to keep them afloat during rough times.
Jango pressed on towards the cantina. Often forcing his way through the thick crowds, Jango had to turn away more than one of the more enterprising prostitutes that were no doubt being pressed to earn something for the night. He eventually arrived at the cantina and went inside. Scouting the place out, it was quite the cantina. Over 10 seperate rooms offered everything from exotic dancers, big band music, traditional cantina music, large-scale dancing productions, relaxed settings, dance floors set to various types of music, and at least one barstand in every one. Jango set about observing the security teams located throughout the building and studied their motions. They were well trained in the way they studied the crowds, but they lacked a sense of alertness. That means they aren't expecting much more than the occasional bar fight, Jango thought to himself.
Jango did his best to make it look like he was a newcomer and was trying to find the best room to hang out in. That's when Jango spotted two guards that were standing in the most intimate set rooms in the cantina. That meant a couple of things: private VIP rooms, backstage access, and access to the office and living quarters of its owner. Jango incospicuously made his way into the dimly lit room. Quiet jazz from a live band played in the backround, and a number of lounge chairs were located in the darker recesses of the room. Jango made his way over to the lone barstand. "Alone, ehh? I'll bet you could use something relaxing. How bout I get you a Tarisian Ale, hmm? How's that sound for you?" the bartender asked. "That'll do, thank you," Jango replied while continuing to study the room. The door the guards were standing by was nothing more than a dark maroon curtain draped over a space. Taking the time to study the guards, they were dressed formally and no weapons were readily apparent, especially in the dim light. However, to trained eyes like Jango's, the blaster pistols and stun sticks were readily apparent through their cloaks.
"One Tarisian Ale. Anything else I can get for you sir?"
"No, that'll do, thank you."
Jango then walked over to one of the few tables in the room located near the stage for the band and sat down. Jango had already deturmined a number of things: a nightly capture and return would be quite difficult due to the large crowds outside. Second, the security may not be very alert, but that didn't make them inept. The last thing Jango needed to do would be to underestimate the security considering the professional attitude they seemed to hold among themselves. It wasn't something that you easily noticed, but from one that was professionally trained, the attitude was quite easily recognized. And the large crowds inside the cantina meant that it would be very easy to just simply run in with blasters blazing but at the cost of countless lives. That meant government trouble and all that would do would be to complicate matters more than they needed to be.
Still, Jango had to wonder how alert the security truely was. Jango downed the last of his drink and left the glass on the table. Jango then immidiately noticed something odd about one of the other customers. Jango wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he could feel it in his gut. Jango knew he needed to find out about whomever it was, but for now he simply went back to the bartender. "Get me another ale, please."
"Feeling especially lonely tonight, ehh? Problems with the wife?" the bartender asked innocently. "No, just lonely," Jango replied.
"Well, if you think you could use some companionship for the night, you just let me know, alright? Here's the ale sir, and you let me know if you need anything else."
This time, Jango just simply sat at one of the seats at the barstool, cradling his drink. Thinking to himself, Jango did seem to feel a bit lonely. It was one of the prices he had paid to get where he was. He was an accomplished bounty hunter although not quite as distinguished as he'd like to be. And although a number of bounty hunters had a spouse and children, none of those seemed to have the reputation needed nor the gumption to build a distingished status among the heavy payers. To Jango, those bounty hunters appeared to be mired in family affairs while attempting to distinguish themselves. Some were more successful than others but none were considered among the elite of the bounty hunters because they were held back. For Jango, though, there was always a part of him that felt that he needed something for him to cherish in life more than a simple reputation. There was something to be said about passing on your heritage to your own blood and posterity, and there was also something to be said about having a companion that loved you more than anything else in the world.
Jango took another sip from his drink. "Bartender, what exactly do you have to offer as 'companions'?" Jango asked.
Quiinzarra slept soundly next to Jango. She had done her duty for the night and had correctly predicted that placing herself on the "Barra'ta Cantina" prostitute list for the night would fetch what she needed from a single customer. Although the cantina would recieve a cut, she had gotten more than she needed to make her pimp happy. Jango, however, was not sleeping next to her, nor was he laying next to her. Instead, Jango was sitting in a chair by the bed cradling a glass of wine that had been brought to the room. Quinzarra had been much more than Jango was expecting, and she had been quite gentle and intimate which was far more than you could expect from most prostitutes. Still, Jango wasn't quite getting the feeling of satisfaction he had been expecting. It wasn't Quiinzarra's fault: she was just doing what she knew to do the best she could. Jango knew it was just simply that they had just shared something that was supposed to be worth more than what it had just been made to be. As of now, what they had just shared was nothing more than a business transaction and it lacked the fulfillment Jango had been looking for.
Jango quietly got up and looked over at Quiinzarra. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and the intimate way they had been together made Jango feel much more attached to her than other woman he had been with in the past. Inside, he almost longed to just simply take her away with him and be with her always. Then Jango realized that the prospect of 'attachment' was coming to the surface again, and Jango knew he could not take her with him. Instead, Jango knew she would need the money, so he left her an extra three hundred credits along with a personal note telling her to keep it for herself. As Jango quietly walked out of the private room the cantina had just provided for him, Jango switched his focus back onto the mission.
Jango knew the back rooms weren't nearly as heavily guarded as the rest of the cantina and that they offered easy access to where ever his target was. A guard was just ahead letting a prostitute and a young twi'lek male into their private room. Jango quietly got up behind the guard as he was closing the curtain. As the guard closed the curtain, Jango grabbed him from behind and quickly made use of the stun stick that the guard had hidden on him by jamming it into the guard's side. With his hand around the guard's mouth, the guard could do little more than to let out a muffled cry for help than not even the couple beyond the curtain next to them could hear. As the guard began to go unconscence, Jango pushed the stun stick further into the guard's side to the point that it was beginning to break the skin. Finally, the guard went silent and Jango quietly wrapped his arm around the guard's neck and broke it. After hiding the body in an empty room, Jango quietly headed towards the main office where his target was supposed to be.
See the struggle of the faithless lot as they negate their time
How low to sink to the depths of their frame of mind