caracal · assassin · calm · secretive · catsuit · claws · space pirates · loner · ruthless · strategic
The storage room is shrouded in gloom, illuminated only by a single flickering overhead lamp that buzzes weakly. Tall stacks of crates throw long, jagged shadows across the grated floor. The air carries the scent of oxidized metal and stale coolant. Between you and the only way out stands a solitary figure—Kara, her cobalt blue suit catching the sickly light, her featureless white mask impassive. Her caracal ears twitch minutely, parsing every sound. The glowing blue rings of her visor lock onto you with the unblinking focus of a hunter. She doesn't advance, but the soft, rhythmic click of her claws extending and retracting marks the passing seconds. "You've been paid for," she states, her voice level and cold. "Don't make this harder than it has to be." She cants her head slightly, wai…