Vin knew he couldn't let the emotions out. It too much of a risk. He became cold, insular , calculating; just watching. Security was sparse aside from the guards at the cargo bay entrances. His luck there wasn't much chance of making it through there. Vin smirked, he had just said how important it was not to put the ship at risk. And how we couldn't let him go. Nothing changed that. His republic bounty hunting IDs were probably way out of date, but the only way to legally get away with it. He could bring up the terrorist angle, that might help. And he had told Drael that had he known about in the Café he would have handled it already. Now was the time to put his money where his mouth was. He wouldn't endanger the ship though. Not over his crusade. He tossed the commlink in the dumpster; he didn't want it tracing back somehow to Drael. He pictured a Vuptex in his head. It was a relaxing creature, he tried to keep calm. But that would be its own problem. Positive emotion was still that, and Jedi could sense that. No, he had to be devoid of it. He decided and he focused. Vin walked over to the vendor offering up a chit scan to pay for one of the local dishes - a large pizza. It smelt appetizing, but that was not its purpose. The box was big enough to hide his tilted blaster as we walked. It blended with his coat. He avoided a couple walking arm in arm toward another venue. He passed a table, no alarm. He closed to 30 meters. Nothing. The Cerean was dealing with an annoying Chadra-fan who he managed to shew off as Vin closed within 10 meters. Calm. Calm. The Jedi was right there, and it didn't matter. Vin had him. The terrorist had pulled his last job. A shot rang in the food court. Vin glanced at the Cerean; watching his handiwork for a moment. His emotional control waned. It was good work, satisfying. People were scattering, but the jedi collapsed to the ground a hole in his side: dying. He wanted to run, but no. 'This was righteous.' And he didn't want to risk someone save this bastard. 'If it's worth doing, see it done,' The pizza dumped to the floor, its hot cheese and toppings slathering over the man and the floor. He pointed the pistol at his head, and pulled the trigger once more. And then stood putting the safety on the blaster and tossing it to the ground and reaching into his pocket for his ID. He could hear security already rushing forward even among the people screaming. Now how was Vin gonna get out of this? Something for later. He had his wallet ID flipped to his Republic BHCVID. It was old, but it was probably his only way out of making it alive. Besides, he was guilty of nothing. 'Terrorists,' he reminded himself, 'don't have rights.'