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Nar Shaddaa

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Nar Shaddaa

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Mid Rim

Sector: Hutt Space

System: Y'Toub System

Orbital Position: moon of the 3rd planet

Moons: one of 5

Grid Coordinates: S-8

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: polluted cityscape

Points of Interest: Rimmer's Rest, Promenade, The Slag Pit

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Ganks

Immigrated Species: Hutts, t'landa Til, humans

Primary Language(s): Huttese, Galactic Basic

Faction Affiliation: neutral

 

Defense Rating: Level 4

 

JediRP Canon History: …to come…

 

Old description in spoiler:

A twisted mirroring of the planet-encasing cities of Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa is the Huttese name for the over-urbanized planetoid known commonly as the Smugglers' Moon.

 

The spaceport moon orbits the Hutt stronghold world of Nal Hutta, in the Y'Toub system. According to Hutt legend, their true homeworld of Varl was destroyed eons ago, and the heroic Hutts conquered Nal Hutta as their new homeworld. The native Evocii were displaced to the largest of Nal Hutta's moons, Nar Shaddaa, but the Hutts eventually annexed the moon as well.

 

Over the centuries, Nar Shaddaa grew as an important way station in interstellar trade. Ancient refueling spires and loading docks still reach out from the native soil into orbit, and in between, vast vertical cities have filled the spaces. The lower levels fell into disrepair and decay, and the lowliest of dregs were forced into the decrepit undercity. The descendants of the Evocii degenerated in the shadowed filth of Nar Shaddaa's foundations, mutating into unwholesome savages.

 

For a time, Nar Shaddaa enjoyed an air of luxury, but changing political climes turned it into a criminal haven. The moon is firmly affixed in the galaxy's criminal underbelly, and no amount of reform will ever bring it into the light again. Ship-jackers, slavers, spice dealers, pirates, hunters and other unsavory types congregate in the vile cities. For a price, anything can be bought and sold on Nar Shaddaa, and many young smugglers and fringe-types get their start on the Smugglers' Moon.

 

 

((Summary compiled by Amidala Skywalker. Thank you!))

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Wyhl sat in his new Palace on the outskirts of a Nar Shaddan city, he grew anxious awaiting the rebuilding of his empire and the spice it commanded. He also grew anxious for a new prisoner to torture.

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The moon of Nar Shadda slowly roitated. Its cities gleaming brightly as the DeathWing burst forth from hyperspace. Joshua sat st the controls and landed the small craft down on a small landing pad.

 

The Clawdite steps forth and awaits something tocome along

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"What do we have here?"

 

One of the palace's outdated medical droids pulls back the rough blanket covering Daz-Ex Ether's battered form, and then ventures a glance at Rane Scando, who stood in the corner, hand resting on the end of a rather large blaster rifle. Sighing, the droid turns to a tray of utensils and picks up a few rusty instruments. First, the droid treats Ether's shoulder wound ”“ a blaster wound; the droid scrapes the burnt flesh away with a blunt instrument, sprinkles down a bit of rather gross looking brown powder, and then covers the area with a bacta-patch. After flipping Ether over, and applying another bacta-patch to the opposite side of the wound, the droid glances over at the Mandalorian bounty hunter again.

 

"This being's body is fighting a losing battle against some foreign substance; has he taken ”“ or was injecting with ”“ anything, to your knowledge?"

Scando shakes his head.

 

"Ah..."

 

***

 

The droid calls to a mechanical arm that hangs from the ceiling, which promptly swings over. After another robotic sigh, the droid presses the end of the mechanical arm against Ether's temple.

 

"Time to give him a little shock ”“ you might want to look away."

 

A small bolt of electricity blasts from the mechanical arm and hits the battered body; jump-starting Daz-Ex Ether's system.

Scando speaks.

 

"Be careful ”“ he's worth a lot to the Hutt."

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Pain had become a part of me and as I was treated my dreams changed and reached a new intensity as they reached their peaks to finally die and let the harsh reality claim me again. This blackout inertia held my thoughts as they revolved and perfected. Frame by frame the world opened itself to me when my body formed an arc of fragile rigidity. This twilight world, black and blue, showed me needles and the damage done, the gunshot and the hole it makes.

 

I don't want to feel this way forever...

 

I was dropped like a blanket and I moved to the rythm of the air, my breath while my wounds like craters crawling back the slope of time, tried to close. I don't know why but I turned on my back. I don't know what I expected to feel... hatred... love... but it was just cold concrete...

 

------

 

''What do you want from me?'' I barely whispered in the darkness.

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"You have a new master to serve, whelp."

 

Daz-Ex Ether finds himself being dragged, his arms draped about the necks of two fat Gamorrean guards, to a circular chamber in the heart of Wyhl the Hutt's palace. The Mandalorian bounty hunter walks behind the three, his blaster rifle cradled in his arms lovingly ”“ as if the deadly weapon was a small child. After a few minutes, the group reaches that circular chamber and Scando steps forth and bows his head to the incredibly fat, slug-like being who just happened to be the ruler of Nar Shaddaa, the moon's parent, Nal Hutta, and several surrounding worlds... Wyhl the Hutt.

 

"I thought you might be interested in this one, Lord Hutt ”“ he's a friend of a friend of the person responsible for ruining your operation on Tatooine..."

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Hahahaha!!! Your friend will pay! As will you!

 

Wyhl pounds his hand down as two guards take the one before him. The strap him to the floor with force- cuffs. All his limbs strapped tightly down. Slowly a small man exits a chamber behind Wyhl, he is a disgusting being holding only a scalpel. He approaches Daz very slowly. The pain he would soon feel would be like no other.

 

Now let us watch.

 

Wyhl licks his lips as the pain begins. The scalpel meets Daz skin at the top of his thigh. It pierces slowly and moves down the leg all the way to the knee. The man pushes deeper and deeper as he progresses to the knee.

 

Where is he you pitful being? Where is your friend!!!!!

 

Wyhl's hand pounds once more.

 

This will continue across your entire body until I receive my answer.

 

Wyhl pushes another button this one opening a door with another man holding a small cage. The contents of the cage a flesh eating animal starved for days.

 

Resistance is futile.

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The Force is everywhere and every thing, but the Force is not the only thing that rules our lives; Fate, Chance and some inexplicable coincidences play a tiny part in the grand scheme of things. One of these on that day, saved my life. As my muscles crisped with pain and my blood tried to stay within me, adrenaline closed my right hand and projected it like a bull on the butcher's jaw as the lock opened miraculously.

 

I don't know what I was trying to do; I was outnumbered, wounded, and on unknown territory, but I always hated being tied to a place. I could not stand being tied to one place or simply be kept from my free will. I could not acept to have stopped moving, sometimes one moves too far. I guess I have been too far for quite some time already. I opened my cuffs and stood on my own two feet in front of the fallen surgeon and the Hutt that seemed to find it all too funny for me. I would not go so easily.

 

But I had a feeling the questions were merely a test for something more important.

 

''What do you all want with me.''

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Blasting out of hyperspace, the Pale Dawn touches down in a seedier portion of the Smuggler's Moon and its occupant, cloaked and hooded in a shimmering and concealing white cape steps out. Securing his ship with a mere thought and setting its defenses in a private hanger, he exits.

 

Before reattaching his force protective little pet, a flash of insight reached Darth Lucifierian, or as he was known in his current transponder code, Lucious Flagg. He did not want any undo attention at this point as he waited for the cogs of his plans slowly turn, and grind his enemy's bones to dust.

 

Pulling himself into a bar, he kept his ears open, hearing about the return of Lord Wyhl and his plans to rebuild the Hutts stronger than before, and startlingly enough of dischord among SEED and the Imperials...placing him in a very precarious situation.

 

Taking a corner seat in a shady tavern, he waits, taking the time to think over his plans before executing them.

 

Certainly the Jedi and possibly the Republic's elite will know what I have done... But overthrowing them will be easy enough... Though throwing fresh blood at them could not hurt either...

 

In his flash of force presense, he saw a monsterous, sickly being- a bloated white spider in the middle of a web, drawing in a small fly, entangling and cacooning it, sucking it, bleeding it dry, and then injecting it with a black, rancorous venom. When it emerged from its silk cacoon, a smaller white spider set out from the web. Then a vision of Nar Shaada appeared.

 

Though not a mystic, he knew what it meant.

 

All he needed to do was wait.

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Silver eyes watched as Faust entered a bar. they focused on the other civilians entering the establishment. He knew this man was probably the most dangerous man in the entire galaxy. But here he was, with the oppourtunity to chat with the best hunter in the game.

 

Joshua enters the bar and sees Faust in a corner seat. The bounty hunter steps toward Faust.

 

"Hello Faust."

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At first, Faust does not respond, merely drawing his hood tighter around his head as he takes another sip. The fact he was hooded, and used a small holographic shadow emitter to conceal his identity it seems did not ward off unwanted attention.

 

For another five, brief seconds, he continues to ignore Joshua. Then, in one fell move, without warning, a white gloved hand flashes out as a kick, deftly drawn back, knocks a seat forward, ramming into the back of the knees. Thrust into the chair sitting by the blow to the solar plexis and the pressure on the knees, Joshua then feels the faintest pin prick of pain, as sticking up and hidden in the folds of Faust's cloak, a long, silvery white blade levels its ever sharp point at his throat.

 

"You have sharp eyes," Faust hisses, his blue eyes blazing with a deadly light from behind his hood, watching his new friend carefully. "Too sharp. Now talk before I decide to poke them out with my little knife here," he taunts in a near silent voice. "Who are you and what is your business? Speak softly now," he cautions, applying enough pressure to send a trickle of blood down the young hunter's throat. "The last thing we want is to make a scene," he laughs in whisper.

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Joshua felt the blade slightly prick into his neck, as blood slowly trickles down his neck. He felt every motion of the droplet of blood, almost like it was a nerve its own. His eyes were locked onto Fausts blade and knew that death was merely seconds away.

 

"Something drew me here. It was almost like I needed to be here. And now that you are here, I feel it was true."

 

Joshua merely waits for Faust to make his move. Now that he looks back on it, approaching Faust was probably a bad move. MAny people had died by his hand for less. But something in the back of his mind, told him he was in the right place.

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I want you to tell me the location of Royce Colos!

 

Wyhl's hand slammed once again sending more pain in Daz-ex.

 

You seem oddly familiar however. Stop the punishment!

 

The worthless men who were causing Daz pain winced away quickly.

 

Tell me what is your purpose? Who do you serve?

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''Royce Colos?, never heard of him.''

 

My voice was as clear as arctic water, and as true as a child's reflexion. I had never heard of anyone of that name, even though the name Colos was the same as the one who had brought me to Tatooine. I thought it was useless to reveal such a detail.

 

''And, I serve under no one, I have no alliegance, I am free, that is why you will let me go, you will release me.''

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Faust's eyes glint for a second, then the blade retracts, dropping into a less obvious and lower, but still dangerous position near Joshua, now hovering it near several soft, yet vital organs in the abdomen.

 

So, was this the person my vision directed me towards?

 

"Interesting answer," Faust states slowly, "but hardly your name." As he speaks, his blue eyes study the young man carefully. "Tell me why I shouldn't just deal with you here and not waste a moment more of my time?"

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"Because I wish to learn from you. Your the best hunter in the game and always will be. Your legacy is greater than that of Boba Fett, and other hunters. "

 

Joshua knew that this could very well be the last moments of his life. but if it was his time, he would make sure he gave Faust one hell of a fight.

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Faust grins, the white of his teeth flickering out beneath his hood.

 

"Very well then my nameless friend. You seem determined to learn from me or die trying." Rising up and drawing his hood over his head to hide his identity further less more unexpected guests arrive, Faust leaves his corner table and steps into the dirty streets of Nar Shaada with its degredation, crime, and moral filth. He motions for Joshua to follow.

 

"Your first lesson," Faust intones, walking through the sparsely crowded alleys and wandering in no particular direction, relying solely on his instinct, "will be to answer this question. How many types of people are there in this world?"

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Joshuas mind was reeling from the shock. He had been told that Vladimir Faust was a ruthless killer with no mercy, and no qualms about who he killed. They had made it seem like he killed for fun, and merely becuase he could.

 

But this was not a question he expected from a bounty hunter. Until this point, Joshua had believed he was the only hunter who actually had intelligence. But Faust seemed to used his knowledge to view humanity as well as tto view the battle he was in.

 

"There are 2 types of people. Those who have the skills necessary to survive, and those who don't."

 

Joshua keeps walking along with Faust toward wherever their destination was.

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Faust laughs. "Exactly, my young apprentice," he decides at that moment. "The skills and power for survival are all that matters. Good and evil, life and death, are just abstract terms, measuring this power. The strong, the hunters, will always prey on the weak. It is foolish to think otherwise." As he states that, he passes a group of thugs mugging and finally murdering an old man, stripping him of his assets and finally even clothes. Faust just continues walking.

 

"The task of being a hunter is to measure that power and to use it to hunt the weak. One must use everything they have, brains, weapons, geography, politics, hearts, and if one is so inclined, even the force, to keep that power and weld it. Other hunters usually use us as weapons to eliminate foes they cannot take care of themselves, so then who truly has the most power in that exchange?" As Faust speaks his right hand starts juggling a small biscuit from a suvival gear ration pack, while his other strays left towards his blaster.

 

"The essence of being a hunter lies in cultivating one's prey," he continues. "and looking out for one's survival first. Our employers will always keep the preserves well stocked, and fill it with a challenging quarry." As he speaks, he stops, noticing a small child in dirty clothes, aged about eight. The hungry boy, born and raised in the slums walks boldly up to Faust, his small, shining eyes meeting the cold blue.

 

"Mister, do you have any food?" the child asks. Faust stares down, right hand on the nutrient stick, his left on the blaster.

 

"So, my young apprentice, given that," Faust asks, still eying the boy, "with which hand should I deal with this child?"

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Silvery eyes watched the boy begging for food. This child had seen many hardships in his short-life. All this child needed to survive this day was food. But this one choice, would set into motion millions of courses of events.

 

If he suggested to feed the child, he could possibly grow stronger and somehow survive youth in the slums of Nar Shadda. By having lived on Nar Shadda his whole life, he would have learned the skills essential to survival, and join the ranks of the bounty hunters. Possibly leading to the childs first hunt being Stykes himself. After finding Joshua, possibly he would kill the Clawdite. So feeding this child could potentially lead to his own demise.

 

But what if this child was destined to save millions of lives, stopping the spread of some deadly disease. He could become a politician, devoted to stopping the spread of war, poverty, depression, and famine. So killing this child could only make the world worse for innocents.

 

But noone was innocent. Noone in this galaxy was innocent. So could this child become a murder and kill hundreds of people. Too many possible outcomes for this childs future.

 

"I say you give the child the food. As of now he presents no threat to us, and killing him could lead to a fight in which we both die. Though we would probably win, it could possibly lead tyo our deaths..

 

Joshua hoped he had made the right choice.

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Faust's eyes close, handing the child the food. He is actually smiling as he speaks, offering an apperance of warmth. "Right answer, but for some of the wrong reasons," he intones softly, kneeling down and reaching into his coat for another food pack. The child finishes and Faust gently hands the child another.

 

"He poses no threat. In this jungle, we are kings, we are the lions. None other here have the power to challenge us. Killing would be no challenge, no effort, for he is already in our power." Faust lacked the grandiose visions of the future shared by his apprentice, which while it could be an oversight in the white cloaked hunter's own character, it had not failed him yet. He merely saw potential and how to turn that potential for his own ends, the rest of the galaxy be damned.

 

Standing up, Faust murmurs to Joshua. "And now, we have a friend for life here." Faust protectively places a hand on the child's shoulder. "He will be your fellow student," Faust decides. The child looks up at Faust with pale black eyes. Though wary, there is a deep trust and hope in them. Faust made a note not to dissapoint the boy, less his value depreciate.

 

"Come along my friends," Faust urges now, more civil, polite, but still the ruthless killer he always was underneath. "There is one more sight we need to see. It shouldn't take us long."

 

Passing by another alley, Faust stops. Four Gammorean rogues, armed with vibroaxes are threatening a scantly clad twi'lek, backed into a corner.

 

"Do what you must to kill them," Faust orders quietly, still being ignored by the gammoreans, holding the child back and speaking to Joshua. "I leave this matter into your hands. When you are done, we will begin your training in earnest."

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Gamorreans were the slime of the galaxy. Nothing but brawn, and not enough brain to use it wisely. More than 99 % of their species were chosen to be guards by high ranking criminals. They would be easy to dispatch.

 

"You should leave that girl alone. She is under my protection."

 

The Gamorreans were expectedly stupid and charged him. As always in combat. time seemed to slow down for Joshua. The Gamorreans were always slow, but it was if they were not even moving. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a vibroax slashing downward, with enough force to cleave him from top to bottom.

 

In an instant, Joshua reacts and drops his right knee, and uses his left foot to push forward. His body rolls and as he raises, he draws his own vibro-weapon. A humming could be heard as his thumb slides over the activation stud. The hunter leaps forward cutting in a Gamorrean with rapid attacks. In mere moments, the hunter had improved his odds by 1 Gamorrean. Now only three remained.

 

The three remaining Gamorreans had surrounde dhim and had their vibro-axes ready to cut him in 6 different ways. But he was more than ready to defend against them. His vibro-katana reverberated and Joshua knew he had to take the offensive. He dropped to one knee for a split second, giving the thugs, the thought he was wounded. Then in a flash, he threw off their thoughts, and leapt into the air. His hand shot forward and his vibro-katana flew from his hand and embedded itself in the forehead of the Gamorrean in front of him. Only 2 left. But now he had no weapon in hand, he was defenseless, or so they thought. Ae one of the remaining thugs attacked him. He simply drew his blaster pistols and riddled his body with 12 blaster bolts. The Gamorrean could have been served deep-fried,.

 

Now the largest Gamorrean remained. Joshua had purposely left this one for last. His hands weakened and his blasters clanged as they struck the floor. Now the only weapon he had was his sniper rifle, and his hands. The latter which he planned to use to drop this last one.

 

The Gamorrean charged him and he swpet out his foot, connecting with the solar plexus of the Gamorrean. Layers of fat and beast hide protected him from the kick, and Joshua knew this would take awhile. The Clawdite leapt to the side and dropped to one knee. He rolled forward and threw a punch to the beasts jaw. The sound of teeth cracking and bones breaking could be heard in the small alley. Stykes hand had been broken buy the Gamorrean now had far less teeth.

 

Joshua decided to nurse his wounds later and finish this fight. He stood to his feet and awaited the Gamorreans attack. It came sooner than expected. In appearance, Joshua was flipping backwards, but in the end, his legs were wrapped around the Gamorreans slimey head. His feet hooked together and he rolled to the sides. The Gamorrean flipped over, confused. It had never expereicned the feeling of moving fast before.

 

As the monster fell, Joshua jerked his legs and a horrible snapping sound could be heard by Faust and the child. The Clawdite had finished his task with merely a broken hand and some snot on his armor. The hunter retrieves his weapons and places them back in their respective places.

 

"How did I do?"

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Faust watches with cold approval. "Satisfactory," he concludes susinctly, more than pleased with the results. Before the greatful Twi'lek can say anything, even to thank her savior, Faust raises his right arm and a small dart shoots out from under the cuffs of his trench coat, burying itself in her neck. She slumps over unconscious. It would be nearly half a day or more before she would awake. Without a word, Faust walks over and hefts the unfortunate alien up, determined to use her for another lesson for his new apprentice.

 

"We'll be making for Tatooine," he reports, carrying the Twi'lek in one arm and taking a slow, leisurly walk back to his ship, the boy following him and tagging at the hunter's heels. "Now, for your next lesson, tell me of yourself. Who are you truly? What drives you for the hunt? What skills do you think you really posses and have you learned from your past? When the time comes to prowl the jungles of the heavens, why will you be the lion and not the prey?" The last is asked on a note of challenge, slightly mocking in its intensity, goading a response.

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