The night was young and beautiful. It was beautiful enough for lovebirds to go out on the town to have some safe, clean fun. Unfortunately, the Astral Astoria was not the "safest" place to have some "clean" fun. It is not implied that one cannot have fun at the Astral Astoria. Au contraire, the Astral Astoria was a perfect place to have fun... but the consequences for having fun were... not so fun. Either a body was found dead somewhere due to drugs or rape, or one would wake up in bed with someone they do not remember meeting (sometimes of the same sex). That is what is considered fun at Astral Astoria. How wonderful. But then again, this floor was meant for business.

Kerik Siyamak. Young, thin, attractive, and elegant. Those words summed him up perfectly. He wore a black suit which matched his thin black tie accompanied with his black pants and black shoes. He demonstrated his professional look by combing his hair neatly to the side.

He maintained a serious face, and kept to himself. Out of his pocket, he took out an organizer and a stick. He maneuvered the stick on the organizer, navigating through his "schedule." It was eight. He was on time, of course. He was always on time. He was sure others would soon show up.

The environment was loud and dimly lit. Anything could happen. Roofies could be slipped in any girls' cups easily. Pockets could be picked by just bumping into someone. It was hot and musty inside as one would expect it to be in a place like this. Kerik's eyes swarmed every direction. Suddenly, a loud blast was heard. It looked like someone had gotten shot from across the room. Kerik looked toward the direction from where the blast had come. "There they are," he mumbled to himself.

A grimace burrowed itself into Grev's face as the shot rang out across the room, followed by a body slumping to the ground and a layer of panic suddenly seeping into the atmosphere. The bass stopped as the deejay halted the record, and almost every eye in the place had shifted towards the bar. He couldn't help but share their engrossment, lifting his own stare towards Cloak, who was more or less indifferent at that point. His blitheness seemed inhuman, and Grev couldn't help but draw a cackle out of that.

He sighed, watching some onlookers struggle to lift the body from the littered floor. The music finally started back, and the club slowly got back into its mindless indulgence. It wasn't like this type of thing was a sporadic occurrence. It was probably every night a reckless idiot was stabbed, beaten, or shot because he used the wrong pick-up line on the wrong woman; or maybe he just didn't say sorry for spilling a drink.

"Grev, do me a favor. Take him with us ?"

"I'd love to," he jeered in a wry tone. After all, dealing with trigger-happy sociopaths was his expertise.

He averted his attention back to Jeseth, who was still slamming down shots for whatever reason. Grev paused for a moment as he carefully pulled a crumpled pack of dirt cheap smokes from his pocket and plopped one between his lips. He lit the cigarette before approaching the man, resting a "friendly" hand on his shoulder and lowering his head down to ear level.

"If you're done solving the galaxy's drunken asshole problem there's a few of us who'd like to have a word with you."

Taja's eyes widened excitedly. "Hey, he's good," she murmured, with all the enthusiasm of a child who had just been gifted with a brand new plaything. "And kinda cute, too."

As she made her way to the private lounge behind the club, still draped across Eve's arm, the Sith became aware of yet another character who was of some importance present inside the bar. <i>"Kerik,"</i> she addressed the man telepathically, the mental "voice" sounding sternly disappointed. <i>"Hurry up and get your ass back here, you're late."</i> As the words registered in his mind, Taja could sense him immediately straightening up, anxiety and nervousness emanating from him in waves that only the empath could detect. She was lying, but the most recent Severe recruit was so uptight when it came to issues such as punctuality that she couldn't help but mess around with his head somewhat.

Taja then turned her thoughts back to the retired bounty hunter. His prowess when it came to firearms was more than impressive, especially considering the fact that the man had drunk himself into a near-oblivious stupor, and a quick scan of Jeseth's surface thoughts -- as well as a somewhat deeper analysis of his earlier memories concerning any past loyalties and allegiances -- provided her with all the additional confirmation she needed in order to make her decision. As for Grev … well, they were married, and he was therefore bound by contract to abide anything and everything his beloved wife threw in his direction, no matter how peculiar the demand (and he was obligated to love every minute of it, too -- and on that note, Taja delivered him a swift mental kick, to compensate for his callousness when it came to her).

"Welcome to Severe !" she beamed happily once the four had entered the exclusive, dimly-lit chambers, only to receive blank and bewildered looks from both the men present so far. "Drinks, anyone ?"

"Kerik, hurry up and get your ass back here, you're late."

Kerik sighed softly in response, knowing that he was being mocked for being so punctual. It didn't bother him much. He knew that as one of the newer members he would be teased on a little bit. But he believed that in an organization... well... organization was necessary. He felt responsible for keeping things scheduled and recorded.

Kerik proceeded toward the group. He kept looking at the people around, especially the man who got shot. It did not look too good for him. Kerik observed something interesting. Everytime someone got shot, or a blaster shot was heard, there was always a high pitched female scream. It always sounded the same too. He heard it this time. It's nothing important but... interesting.

He looked at the group. They were an interesting bunch. Each had their own unique personality, or so it seemed. He approached the group to engage in whatever they were talking about but all he heard was:

"Drinks, anyone ?"

Kerik grinned.

"Arnold Palmer, please"