((I have refrained from posting because there were so many things about this character in the upcoming SWTOR that I don't yet know.  However Jezerai in whatever race or class she ends up has been around for quite a while and will still be Jezerai wherever I take her, so here goes.  While much of her appearance remains subject to change, the "voice" will be the same.))

The doors of the cantina burst open, emitting the figure of a lone woman.  The noise inside stopped briefly as the cantina's patrons turned to assess the newcomer; some looking for a friend and others expecting an enemy.  A few heads bobbed in welcome as she entered, but many did not.  It had been a long time since Jezerai Silvermoon had been in the section of the galaxy. 

Jezerai sauntered into the interior, disturbing the haze of smoke and dust into lazy eddies as she walked.  She was not a particularly dangerous looking woman, being rather on the small side but she wore the crossed daggers at her back and the holstered lasers with an easy assurance that warned those cautious enough to look that this was not a person one would wish to antagonize without good reason.  Her white-blonde hair was pulled carelessly out of her eyes and held in a long pony-tail down her back.  Her green eyes lightly passed over the interior, and a crooked grin broke out as she spied the bartender.

"Heyas, handsome!"  Although not loud, her voice caught the attention of the man behind the bar, who grinned as he saw who was there.

"Hey there, Jez!  The usual?"  It spoke volumes that there would still be a "usual" even after all this time away.  The bartender poured a large tumbler full of whiskey and slid it to the woman in exchange for a few coins and a cocky wink.

Jezerai turned, leaning back against the bar and surveying the crowd again, wondering who was still around in this neck of the woods or where some profitable trouble might be stirred up.  She took a large swallow of the whiskey without blanching and crossed her feet at the ankles.

Shapely hip swung around and knocked the door of the cantina open and in walked that tiny little brunette with a silk scarf tied over her eyes, little golden bells tied onto it and giving a little ting-a-ling as she wandered a few steps in.  She picked her head up and gave a little shake of her pixie cut hair before wandering over to the bar with a smile painted on her red stained lips, anyone who was perceptive would see the extra long lightsaber hilt proudly mounted on her waist.   She faced down the bartender without seeing him.  "Maroj and Juma Juice please."  She gave a cute little smirk to the bartender before "looking" around the cantina.

The door opened again to reveal a Mirialan woman. She pushed back the hood of her dark gray cloak. Her auburn hair was swept up revealing the geometric patterns on the green skin of her face and her neck. She walked over to the bar and sat down beside the Miraluka. She put her head in her hands and began rubbing her temples.

"Corellian ale, please." She said to the bar tender.

Jhared did not really know what he was doing in a cantina, but it was better than back in that grey dead apartment his family provided him. It was not a barrack but it sure felt like it, since everything that could have been stripped from it had been. His body was aching for a few hours of sleep due to his last assignment but he just could not get his eyes closed, even after having filed his report. It was the worst part of his duty, but it had to be done and when you worked alone as often as Jhared did there was no one but him to do it. After pacing back and forth in his apartment he had finally made the choice to take a look at Coruscant's life outside the Marcelian District.

So here he was, drinking juice at a lonesome table. It did not bother him. Not really. But that was a part of being a Caeyrn, you did not care. The Caeyrn Corporation was a cold and heartless organization and it reflected in its members, less so in Jhared, but it was there. On the outside at least. He carried the same confidence and eyes saying that he really did not concern himself if you lived or died. A Caeyrn would shoot into a crowd of civilians to get his target and not spare the innocent people a thought. Those who did were of course punished, but the Republic needed soldiers to fight their war and the Caeyrn Corporation provided good killers.

It was not Jhared, but he acted like it. Well, it was not Jhared as long as you did not get between him and his target. Killing was an efficient way of handling things, better than to let some villain escape to do more harm. In the long run it would save more people, or so he kept telling himself.

He took a quiet sip from his glass of juice, watching the door to the cantina. He had done it for a while now, eyeing everyone that went in and assessing whatever threat they might pose. It was not being jittery, he was just unwilling to be taken by surprise and even while he realized the very low risk of anything happening in a cantina and targeted at him he still did it. Just to be sure. The first time he wandered outside the Marcelian District he had not worn a weapon or armour, he had never made the same mistake again. He had a blaster and a vest, exposing his calm face and short cut black hair. He was not used to not wearing a helmet, but he figured it would catch attention if he walked around in the full metal suit. The vest and blaster just seemed better suited for this environment.

When a rather small, but fairly well armed woman entered a few of the patrons in he cantina bobbed their heads, Jhared did not. He did however try to get a proper look of her face. He might have to track her down one day, not that it was very likely though. The galaxy was crawling with criminals, traitors, mercs and not to mention Sith, he could not kill them all before he died. He could try though, and he certainly did. Next in line was a jedi or at the very least a force user as the lightsaber at her waist pointed out. Again Jhared took a good look on her face and reminded himself to be wary of her. Following her came a Mirialan woman with a dark gray cloak, everything about her pointed to her just being a civilian, but Jhared did not discard the possibility of her being dangerous.

And so he continued for a while, perhaps it was like counting banthas. He had heard some people did that to fall asleep.

Alara Khan, the Mirialan, reached for the Corellian ale the bartender set in front of her, but she winced in pain as her right shoulder reminded her of a disagreement she had earlier that day. She clutched her shoulder for a moment, grabbed the glass with her left hand, and downed the contents. She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt her throat tingling from the alcohol. Motioning for the bartender to bring her another drink, Alara turned to the brunette beside her.

"What the blue blazes were you thinking, Sabinae?"

Sabinae flashed a winning smile over at Alara and took a long pull off the drink, after her eyes uncrossed and she shook her head she finally was ready to answer the question. "Well, the first thing I though was there's no way he can get that blaster out in time...*She smiled hopefully* Then I thought, wow he's really fast with a blaster! And then after that it all got kind of cloudy..." She was still throwing out what she thought was a sweet, innocent smile, hoping her Master wouldn't punish her infront of a Cantina full of people.

Alara crossed her arms as she listened to the girl's explanation. She had barely been a knight for a week when the Council assigned her this bubbly bundle of trouble as a Padawan. She was fond of the girl, but in the years since she had often wondered what purpose such a frustrating assignment could have in her destiny.

"I believe I said we were going to take the subtle approach." Alara said calmly "Subtle being the opposite of what you did. We are very fortunate that one of them tripped when he did or we may have found out how quickly he could draw his blaster too. You're going to be the death of me, girl."

Alara looked at Sabinae for a moment. She recognized the girl's classic "Really, Master, I didn't mean to cause trouble." smile. It didn't always work, but there was no point in punishing her now, not in the middle of a Cantina.

"Ah well, no matter. The assignment is over and done with, and I believe we will have some time to rest before the Order sends us out on another investigation." Alara said patting Sabinae on the shoulder.

She motioned for the bartender to come over.

"Another round on me, and I'd like a couple of jukebox tokens as well."

The smile that she was flashing hopefully finally grew into a true smile when she realized she was being let off the hook for now, she really didn't mean to mess up all the time, it just kinda.. happened. She spun around on her stool slowly with a kick of her leg, causing the little bells on her scarf to tinkle gently, she reached out with the Force then, using it to "see" everyone around her and take stock of the room.

After considering things here to be very boring she spun back to her drink and took a much smaller sip this time, she then began tapping her fingers gently on the bar top, following her Masters voice and smiling again when she made mention of music.

Alara slid one of the jukebox tokens to her Padawan.

"Here. You get first pick. I'm going to need to sit for a while longer before I can even think about dancing."

It had been a hard fight, and Alara felt muscles she hadn't even known she had twinging in protest. She knew she should have called for backup, but it had seemed like such a simple assignment. Alara thought she and Sabinae could easily handle it alone. She didn't notice the warning signs of the ambush until it was nearly too late. She must have been getting careless.

Alara finished her drink and shoved the previous assignment out of her mind. The investigation was closed, they were both in one piece, and hindsight would always be 20/20. She changed her mind about dancing. It might be just the thing to get her mind off of work.  Alara slipped out of her cloak revealing a tan tunic and dark brown pants worn by some Jedi knights. She walked over and joined the small group on the dance floor.