((As of this evening, the Doctor is withdrawing from this RP. In an effort to stay involved myself, I will now resort to some minor character control.))
As soon as the airlock cycled open enough to see the light of day on the other side, Nasrene made a run for it. But just as he had been the first time she tried to run from him, Kavrik was too fast. His right hand caught her weapon; his left closed around a handful of the fabric around her neck, throwing her roughly back into the cargo hold. As she tried to scramble back to her feet, he turned her weapon on her, switched it to stun, and fired.
"Darn," he muttered.
Abruptly, the ship's power came back on. With a little scowl, Kavrik glanced up at the ceiling.
"Welcome back, Lys," he said.
Lysandra took a moment to answer. "Still just you and me then?"
Kavrik nodded. "Looks like. Stick a ray shield around her here. She's lost the right to comfortable digs now."
With that, Kavrik left the ship, paid a technician to repair the landing gear, and wandered into town. It was time to tell Nasrene's grandparents he had her.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Viron's move for his blaster had not gone unnoticed. The man with the lightsaber advanced, raising his hand and closing it into a fist. In less than three seconds, Viron was dead and his comlink clattered to the floor. With the cantina's full attention now on them, he and his companion were just turning to go when a low voice interrupted their departure.
"That was a damn fool move to make, Sith."
The Sith spun to find the voice, puzzled by the fact that the cool fearlessness behind the words did not match any of the emotions he felt echoing through the cantina. While the rest of the cantina's patrons hurriedly ducked their heads, fearing the Sith's wrath, one man stood, wielding a rather unusual blaster in one hand and a sword in the other. Feeling for the stranger, the Sith noted in astonishment that no one stood before him in the Force. Seeking to match the picture his eyes saw with the one the Force was showing him, he again raised his hand and clenched it into a fist. The man who wasn't there merely laughed.
"You're in over your head, Sith," he said. And indeed he was. He was so astonished at his failed choking that he failed to see or stop a blaster bolt from drilling through his forehead. His companion bolted from the scene and took a bolt through his spine.
With a satisfied smirk, Kavrik Zall reclaimed his seat, scooping up Viron's discarded comlink, which had rolled near his chair. He checked the number and learned absolutely nothing from it. With nothing better to do for the moment and a fair bit of curiosity to satisfy, he spoke into it.
"Kriffin' brilliant, you are," he said, not caring who was on the other end of the line to hear it. "Send a third-rate merc like Viron to snoop for Sith information and you gotta expect he's gonna wind up dead. Next time you want Sith, whether information or heads, go with a pro from the start. Someone like, oh, I don't know... Kavrik Zall, maybe."