Amara could feel that he noticed her when she entered. Good. It meant he had good instincts. That would serve him well in the mission to come. Beyond this, the first things he acknowledged were not that she was attractive. He didn't look at her like a piece of meat to be devoured, not like the others in the room. That was even better. She made note of this as she took a seat, watching and feeling his reaction as she spoke to him.<br/><br/>She observed him, watching as he nearly choked on his drink when she sat next to him and greeted him. She watched as he regained some semblance of coherence and, for a moment, their eyes met as she observed him, taking in his appearance, from the look in his eyes to the way he rose above the bar because of his evident height, to the Republic cap on his head, and the way he seemed well maintained and yet, somehow it didn't match. Almost like he had forced himself to be something he wasn't. Whether or not that was true, it was rather obvious to her that he had been through hell. Perhaps that was an understatement.<br/><br/>For a brief moment their eyes met again and his warm chestnut eyes, which somehow felt warm and comforting, yet simultaneously cold and broken, seemed frozen, locked with her blue eyes for but a moment, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks before he looked away from her, focusing his gaze on the drink in his hand. She glanced away from him for a moment, her own cheeks momentarily dye a slightly deeper hue of pink. She absentmindedly scratched her warm cheek with her forefinger, something she used to do a lot when she was nervous, but generally avoided nowadays.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"True, I suppose you could say that I'm new around here."</span>she replied lightly, her gaze on him once more, pushing away whatever she had felt moments before, as though it had never happened. He sighed and thought that she must want something, because people always did. That... was rather sad, actually. She almost felt bad, knowing that he was right. She did want something. Still, it couldn't be helped, so she got to the point. No use beating around the bush.<br/><br/>She watched his reaction carefully, noting the way the corner of his lips twitched. Thankfully, though, he didn't seem bothered by how matter-of-fact and to the point she was. He thought she was either Naïve or honest. It was the latter, of course. She had long ago lost her innocence, her naïvety, or rather it was stolen from her. No, that wasn't it. She didn't like to dilly-dally, and she had no reason to. He was right. She was confident in her strength.<br/><br/>She waited quietly until he stood abruptly, knocking his head on the lamp above him. Honestly. She just stared at him as he began to speak, evidently unfazed by the events that had just transpired. Well, that was alcohol for you.<br/><br/>He went on about how he hadn't had a mission in two years before agreeing to do it and hear the details on the way. She shrugged and stood from her seat, an act that was significantly more graceful than his prior display.<span style="color: #FF0080">"Alright, then. Shall we?"</span>she spoke, but was interrupted as she turned to leave.<br/><br/>"Why would you want a guy like this to fly you around when you could have someone like me?" a man with a deep, gravely voice stood in front of her, reaching out to slip his arm around her.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"Okay..."</span>Amara mumbled to herself, fighting her urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as she often did when she was annoyed. Instead she gave a polite smile and moved a hand to block his from reaching her waist. Instead, he took hold of her arm and she had to fight to keep the smile on her face.<span style="color: #FF0080">"Sorry, I've already made my decision. If you would kindly remove your hand from my arm..."</span>She replied with the same polite smile.<br/><br/>"It was a mistake for a pretty little thing like you to come into a place like this." the man responded, tightening his grip on her arm. She glanced around the room, noting the looks that pretty much every patron had in their eyes. It was all the same. They were disgusting. Disgusting, vile, drunk men. She had no tolerance for people like that. She'd seen enough of that from her father. Still, despite the desire she suddenly had to punch him square in the face, she remained calm.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"No. The mistake wasn't mine. The mistake was yours for assuming that a <span style="font-style: italic">pretty little thing</span> like me can't handle the likes of you."</span>she replied in a casual, nonchalant tone, wearing the same light smile that belied the annoyance she felt right then. She debated how best to respond to the situation, using force or using the Force. She wanted, if possible, to keep the fact that she was a Jedi a secret, at least from everyone here. She didn't mind Brandon knowing, but no one else needed to. If she used the Force to suggest he let go, it might be rather obvious. On the other hand, Jedi were certainly not the only ones who knew how to handle themselves in a fight, so it would be easier to play that off.<br/><br/>The man bared his teeth and made some noise that sort of resembled a growl, balling his hand into a fist, twisting his body, and swinging towards her with a wide right hook. Amara easily side-stepped the man, allowing his own momentum to pull him towards the ground. As he fell in front of her, she brought her elbow down in a swift, smooth motion, shoving it into his neck hard enough to knock him out. She then returned to her previous stance and glanced around the room, noting that everyone had quickly looked away and went about their business. Good.<br/><br/>She smiled lightly and began walking towards the door, turning and looking back at him.<span style="color: #FF0080">"Shall we? For real this time."</span>she asked in that same light and airy tone, as if nothing had happened.