[sub][right][b][color=747273]P A S T[/color] // [color=747273]2003[/color][/b][/right][/sub]
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[b]S P A C E    G H O S T[/b]
[i]in[/i][/color]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/MQBfc3v.png[/img][/center]
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[color=4975B7][b]“I’ve heard you’re some kind of justicar out in the outer rim, is that true?”[/b][/color]

It had been some time since Thaddeus Bach had needed to engage in small talk; a realization he was grossly reminded of as he crossed his arms, a scowl forming on his lips as the representative greeted him on the space station. Word had reached him through his communications terminal that a very particular job was looking for someone with a very particular pedigree and a very particular set of ethics; Bach’s sort of particular. A job inquiry that had at the very least piqued his curiosity given that few even knew who he was given that “The Ghost of the Outer Rim” hadn’t been a very popular man and Bach made it his business to be very difficult to find, less alone sought out for. 

There was only one type of person who could have the sort of connections it took to find him— someone so powerful that not only did they know how to find him, that they knew how to [i]contact[/i] him. So powerful that they couldn’t hold their meeting over communications channels.

[color=747273][b]“Depends who you ask.”[/b][/color]

The representative walked forward, a hearty laugh leaving their lips as they continued down the corridor. 

Bach didn’t smirk; not even a little. He had lost his taste for the sort of conversation that he was once adept at— in his past, as a member of the vanguard that protected the Outer Rim planet of Eidolon IV, he was good at talking to people and getting them to sing their tune his way; in recent years he just preferred to break their bones rather than play charismatic diplomat.

[color=747273][b]“This better not be a trap.”[/b][/color] Bach’s tone was forceful, dangerous.

[color=4975B7][b]“It isn’t.”[/b][/color] The tone of the messenger was jittery, but it was more as a quick reaction to his threat. 

Bach narrowed his brows, [color=747273][b]“I’ve made a lot of enemies.”[/b][/color] 

Bach eyed the uniform of his “guide” and thought back to her mannerisms and the way he spoke, and how she approached him on what was supposed to be a routine refueling stop. She didn’t look like much as far as young spacers went— perhaps a reason that they went unnoticed among a crowd of smugglers, bounty hunters, and scouts.

[color=747273][i]Accent is from the core worlds— Xandar, Graxos IV, Rann. [/i][/color] 

The woman in front of Bach stopped at a console to a door. This part of the spaceport looked like it was under repairs and a bit off the grid from the rest of the station; but it was nothing out of the ordinary or at least it wasn’t for Bach considering his work as a special operations agent within the Eidolon Elite several years prior— after all, it had been his job to infiltrate and investigate shady parts of the outer rim for the sake of the mission. He just didn’t realize that translated to “for the sake of your comrade’s financial gain”. 

[color=747273][b]“But it seems you know that.”[/b][/color] 

The sound of silence found itself cut between the two men before the icy click of the metallic doors opening broke it.

[color=747273][b]“Who are you?”[/b][/color] 

She turned, giving Bach a glance as she pulled a stray strand of black hair and moved it out of her face. [color=4975B7][b]“You’re inquisitive and smart. That’s good. Follow me and I’ll explain what you need to know.”[/b][/color]

An irritated grumble left Bach’s lips— she avoided his question. But he should’ve expected that given she was from [i]Rann[/i]. There was no one else from the core planets that she could’ve been, and given her secrecy there were only a few options of where this was leading.

[color=747273][b]“Fine. But this better not be a waste of my time.”[/b][/color] 

[color=4975B7][b]“It won’t.”[/b][/color]