Tatooine

[Delta73]

While the mercenaries in the Tatooine bar were duking it out over honour and glory, the Black Sun warfleet assembled. The Marie was refitted and rearmed as was the rest of the fleet. The twin daggers of the Red Hussar and Golden Dawn kept a geosynchronous orbit next to the Wayfarer’s Rest as the St. Cathryne refit its torpedo load. The massive capital ship torpedoes were the size of starfighters and carried massive yields, perfect for sieges against larger capital ships or planetary bombardment. If one missile would make it past a planetary shield into a planet like Coruscant, millions could die.

 

When Zalis and the rest of the signed mercenaries had made it on board, the Black Sun fleet jumped into hyperspace towards the Dark Lord.

 

Black Sun warfleet:

 

The Marie

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Corellian CR-90E Heavily Modified

Crew: 130

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 1 squadron ARC Fighter-bombers refitted, 1 Squadron of TIE Defenders 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 5 turbolaser turrets, 4 point defense guns, Advanced sensor and jamming package

AP: 1

 

St. Cathryne

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: MC30c

Crew: 900

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 4 squadron TIE Defenders, 2 K-Wing 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 2 Heavy Assault MG1-A proton torpedo launchers, 16 Medium Turbolaser batteries, 16 twin laser cannon batteries, 6 cluster bomb launchers

AP: 3

 

Golden Dawn

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 6/14/2009

AP: 3

 

The Red Hussar

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

AP: 3

 

Totenkopf

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

AP: 1

 

11 Thousand total troops/mercenaries.

 

Total Starfighter Compliments:

1 Squadron ARC Fighter-bombers refitted

(Refit Loadout: 4 Proton Torpedos, 4 Diamond Boron missiles, 2 EMP/ION bombs slung on the wings, Heavy Sensor/Scope jammers)

5 Squadrons TIE Defenders

8 Squadrons K-wings

8 Squadrons A-Wings

 

[ChessRo]

Chess takes the chit and nods surreptitiously. Before the Falleen leaves however, the Cathar grabs his arm and pulled him in so that they can whisper straight into his ear.

 

“Tell your boss I don’t appreciate being left in the dark. The next time he contacts me, he should tell me how to contact him just in case a plan goes wrong. Otherwise, I can't be held responsible if a shipment goes missing. I don’t need a tracking device on my ship to tell him where I’m going, because he's not going to get the details.” Chess shoves Fuzz away, and stands their ground so that Fuzz is forced to slink off.

 

Once the Falleen moves on, the Cathar saunters towards Chalum’s Cantina, blending in easily with the surrounding hodgepodge of species. It is going to be interesting, meeting the Black Sun on behalf of the very criminal they ordered Chess to track down. Chess can feel their tail fluffing a little in anxiety, and pauses to take a few deep breaths before entering the Cantina.

 

Inside the Cantina it is a hot sweaty mess of bodies pressed in on one another, some dancing along to the kloo horns and others huddled over their drinks. Chess sighs and finds a place to sit in a crowded corner. When the Black Sun agent arrives, there had better not be any more trouble.

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Black Sun Agent Cathryne Fegelein walked slowly through the musky bar, when her eyes caught her target, the black furred Chess, she grabbed a glass of blue milk from the bar and a heavy expensive whiskey for herself. The band played an obnoxious tune when she slid across the table from Chess, her Twi'lek teeth flashing sharpened points of silver.

 

"So Bounty Hunter, did you hunt go well?"

 

She fingered a high denomination credit chip under the table.

[Parangor]

Though the Tuskan couldn't see it, Drogan smiled, he had hoped to get to know more about this warrior culture if he was going to work with them. Stooping down he picked up the robes "I will change into these and disarm as you ask, my crew will disarm and set up camp around the ship, your brethren are more then welcome to continue to watch them as they see fit but know that even unarmed they would not be easy meat." Taking the robes Drogan entered the ship and explained what was happening to his crew, though not happy about it they agreed to do it. As he doned the robes he also went to his trophy room and selected an archaic looking hand axe and short sword. While neither had the vibro properties he prefered they were both quite deadly, as he scars would prove. Hiding them amongst the robes he had each member of his crew attempt to find them and when satisified that none could he exited the ship.

 

"I hope the robes are being worn correctly and if not I will apologize for any offense, whenever you are ready let us begin our journey as long as the conditions are acceptable."

[ChessRo]

Chess glanced at the blue milk, then picked it up and gave it a cautious sip. The Twi’lek’s teeth made their skin crawl, and hopefully by focusing on the drink, it would be harder to notice. As they sampled the milk, an idea began to form, and Chess found it easier to relax.

 

“You ask as if I’ve had time to hunt at all. You do realize I’m dealing with a very elusive being?” They set down the glass, pulling out their little communicator. “Regardless, I have managed to have contact with the man. I’ve received a pre-recorded holo, sent over the Net. This Corellian is currently concerned with the expansion of his cosmetic business, specifically a slightly luminescent cream called “Gungaglow”.”

 

Chess lowered their voice and leaned towards the Twi’lek. “Now, if you want a sample of his product, I may be able to get one for you, at a small price of course. I’m sure I’ll have an opportunity in the near future to obtain some.” Leaning back, Chess took another long draught of their blue milk before continuing.

 

“If you want anything more from my end, I think I’m going to need some information from you. As I understand it, you’ve been interested in creating a partnership with the man. If there was anything you wished to impart to him-” Chess raised a furry eyebrow, “what would you like to communicate?”:

[Wyvernfall]

Rruror'rur'rr approached Drogan, the shadows cast by his mighty steed blotting out the light of the twin suns over both of them. With hardly a glance at the man to see that he was not obviously armed he growled something unintelligble, raising his rifle into the air with a howl he swung it forward, not attackingly, but in a way so as to signal his fellow brethren to advance. From all around them, from a variety of distances, about a dozen Tuskens seemingly materialized out of the sand and silently and quickly advanced down to the ship, their body language betraying what their shrouded faces could not, stark disapproval for the ship and her crew. The remaining Tuskens remained hidden in the sands, watching, silent keepers of their holy sands.

 

Leaning forward towards Drogan, until his mouth was roughly near where Drogan's ear would be he whispered in gravelly raspy basic, "Your men will be safe."

 

Turning, he waved, Drogan to follow him. Without a word, the duo set off into the bright sands under the searing heat away from the strange, if not tense, situation around the shining ship parked in the shifting sands.

 

Soon enough the duo had walked out of site of their comrades over and around countless dunes and rocky outcroppings. Eventually, as thirst had well set in, the twin suns of Tatooine began to set in the distance. For the first time, Rruror'rur'rr spoke, having ignored any attempts at conversation from his comrade up until this point in time. Pointing at a rocky outcropping, "We shall stop for a period of rest and then continue on in the cool of the night. Travelling in the heat of the sun for too long is not wise." Stooping down,, Rruror'rur'rr laid his rifle beside him in the sands and began to dig and shuffle the sands about, quickly revealing several elongated yellow fruits. Plopping down in the sand next to a scruffy looking row of scrubbrush growing out of the base of the cliff, he waved Drogan to a seat, tossing one of the gourds at his newfound companion. "You see, the land cares for those that belong to it." Pulling out his primitive scrap-metal-made knife, he pried the fruit open, sending the sour fragrance of the fruit into the still air and revealing the stringy green pulp. Carefully drawing back his face mask so as to still keep himself hidden from Drogan, he took a wet slobbering bite, slurping the sour liquid and stringy fruit up hungrily.

 

Once he had finished his fruit, and having made sure his mask was set back properly he continued to speak, "We are journeying to the edges of the shifting sands ((Dune Sea)) to where many of our people roam, there, I shall take you to the Valley of The Spirits ((Edge of the Jundland Wastes)). The darkness of my ancestors speaks there. There, I shall teach you. Fear not, your friends will not be able to follow us. My people have been protected by our ancestors there for years." ((Magnetized deposits in the Jundland wastes apparently screw with sensors))

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

The Agent laughed loudly and slammed the drink down upon the bar. Fegelein had to give the furry girl some points, but this was definitely not the agreement. But she had gotten the point of the adventure, and the meeting between Black Sun and the Gangaglow conglomerate could be brokered through this third party.

 

“Be careful girl, lest you tread where you are not wanted. We do not care for gels applied to alien behinds, but a proper arrangement between them and the Black Sun to the benefit of all of us can be made. We want his expertise in medical and biological matters for a future expansion into Bacta production.”

 

She slapped a large denomination credit chip down on the table again.

 

“Make it so then hunter. But be careful in the trails you walk lest your fur gets burned off in the blaze. Have him and him alone meet us here.”

[ChessRo]

Chess stomped back to the Minx with the credit chip tucked safely away in their pouch. When they thudded aboard, they were met with an inquisitive chirrup as BB-05 pulled herself out of the propulsion switchboard. Chess picked up and threw a Harris wrench at the opposing wall. The resulting clang made Oz squeal and duck back out of sight.

 

“Look, I’m sorry Oz, I just…” Chess pulled at their mane a little, their tail lashing back and forth. “I’m a little stressed right now. Did you get any farther on the communications breach?” When the astromech beeped out a sad little ‘no’, Chess sighed, and collapsed into worn leather seating area tucked away in the living area of the Minx.

 

The Black Sun was being less than helpful and Chess’s only other contact was a Corellian who seemed to have a phobia of open communication. What should be done next? Chess looked at the data-stats on the Minx’s holo-display, and flipped the credit chip through their paw.

 

“Binoo, how’s our fuel status?” The PLNK droid wobbled out from his charging bank, beeping steadily. The fuel was topped up, and most of the Minx’s systems seemed to be in good working condition. “Good. We’ll pick up some more coolant, then we’re out of here. I’m sick of this planet.”

 

Binoo gave a stoic boop and trundled off. Chess dropped the denomination chip into their hip pouch and began running systems checks. It was time to do some spending.

[Parangor]

Drogan was impressed the Tuskan had chosen to speak this much, he attempted to mimic him while eating the gourd and had to admit the flesh wasn't bad, or at least not the worst thing he had eaten. "I appreciate the opportunity to learn of your people, you are warriors, real warriors, something the Galaxy is lacking now. I hope that we can work together and that I prove worthy of what you are willing to show me."

 

surprisinlgy the heat wasn't that bad. After spending years training in heavy armor and on desolate worlds it was just another thing he had to adapt to. Sitting in the shade of the large stone he wondered what secrets this desert truly held, and if he should be disturbing them. A sudden realization dawned on him, "If I offend you or your leaders in anyway please do not hesitate to alert me or if needed, eliminate me. My men are aware this cold happen and they have been instructed to seek no revenge, all I ask is my body be returned so it can disposed of in the Thrysian way."

 

Waiting for a reply Drogan went back to surveying his surroundings and enjoyed the sight.

[Darth Nyrys]

The sudden lecturing of the twins would have made Ailbasí jump, but ironically she was too tired to do much more than turn her head and listen. They wanted her to connect to the Force and it made her happy that Sheog had given her the training wheels version back when they had first arrived at Onderon, otherwise she wouldn’t even know where to begin. She tried to relax into some form of meditation like you always see spiritualists talk about on the holonet, but that only invited more fatigue. Feeling herself start to drift off further, instead she focused on the things keeping her awake. The nausea from all of the meds. The burning sensation in her eyes. The fear of what would happen if she fell asleep in front of the twins.

 

All color except for red drained from the world around her, and voices and the humming of ship machinery were replaced by howling and screaming from throats that had no physical counterpart. Drifting somewhere outside her body in the currents of the ether, Ailbasí saw small clusters of dim motes of light across the planet. For the first time though, she saw the fuel behind the lights, untapped potential squandered by mediocre minds.

 

From dust to dust they achieve NOTHING! Claim what you deserve from those that rot in the caged torpor of their lesser minds.

 

The bonds of sanity and rationality slipped, and the world became a blur.

 

--Two months later--

 

A rough and burning fit of parched coughing brought the world back into focus from shades of red and black, replacing it with dull white and howling tans and browns whipping across Ailbasí’s face. She tried to suck in a breath of sweet air, but she ended up with more sand in her mouth than anything else. Spitting out the clumped particles, she brought up the sleeve of her tunic to her mouth and used it as a filter, finally finding the air that her lungs were in searing pain without. Taking several deep gasping breaths, Ailbasí started to try and make sense of where she was and what had happened to her.

 

The howling of what she now realized to be a sandstorm was dying down now, revealing her surroundings. It was some sort of hab unit, a quarter submerged in sand that the viewport glass failed to keep out. Had she fallen asleep and been left to die by the twins? She certainly didn’t feel tired anymore. She pulled herself up out of the sand that had partially submerged her while she was prostrate and began to move around. There was no more agony in her limbs, but at the same time she didn’t feel the chemical warmth and drowsiness of pain meds.

 

Ailbasí tried to call out, someone must have taken her inside from the sandstorm. Her pleas were met with empty silence at first, but then from somewhere else in the hab unit she heard a dry and throaty voice, someone else calling for help. She gingerly made her way through the remains of the building, calling out to the other person and hearing them call back. They finally crossed paths in a hallway connecting multiple hab units. Black smears of fluid splattered some of the wall panels and at low points in the sand’s accumulation she could see parts of bodies protruding upward. In the dim flickering light of the hallway, Ailbasí could see a teenage girl moving towards her in an awkward shuffle, perhaps in some stage of shock?

 

“Do you know what happened?”

 

Not looking back directly at her, the girl responded with a fragmented repetition of what Ailbasí had said, coming out as “Do… you… happened?” Ailbasí grabbed her wrist firmly to try and snap the girl out of it, but the skin, sinew, and bone flaked and crumbled into dust under her touch. Ailbasí screamed, and the thing that she had thought was a girl screamed too, before exploding in a wave of particulates. Ailbasí vomited, and what came up was bloody and smelled like raw flesh. She charged into a hab unit in search of a refresher, and found a dessicated huddle of corpses on a bed. Behind them on the wall rending cracks like a claw writing in the stone spelled out words.

 

This is who you are.

 

“I don’t want this!”

 

You will...

[Parangor]

The sudden and unnatural sand storm caused both Drogan and his tuskan companion to wonder at the nature of it. They could both sense that something about this was unnatural. On impulse Drogan decided to return to his ship, towards whatever was causing the storm, while his companion chose to remain to see if he could understand what was happening to the desert

 

The journey back was uneventful and upon arriving at his ship his men were on high alert. "I will be equipping myself for a trip into town. I will be going alone but want the ship ready to extract me as needed. Something strange is going on here and I intend to find out what." After issuing his orders and changing from the Tuskan robes back into his armor and picking up his standard weapon load out Drogan left the ship and began his trip into town.

 

The town was nothing special, just like this entire planet in his mind. They were not warriors here, just rogues and thieves. It didn't matter, something was pulling him into this town, something that caused that sandstorm. He felt both nervous and excited. Perhaps here was a chance for actual combat against a warrior worthy of being called such. His hopes were dashed slightly upon reaching the building where the sensation was coming from. Either way this is where he was getting that strange feeling so the worse thing that would happen is nothing.

 

Entering the building he ignored the onlookers and began making his was upstairs, following the strange sensation. No one bothered to try to stop him, but to be fair very few people wanted to randomly tangle with a Thrysian. Reaching the room where the disturbance was he paused a moment and reached out with his instincts, he hoped his years of training would tell him if it was a trap but all he sensed was confusion and a strange feeling, like the atmosphere was strange. Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword he opened the door, only to be looking at, well he wasn't sure what but he was pretty sure he recognized at least one of the people before him?

[saberforce]

Tros sat upon the bridge of the Swift Justice and allowed for himself to get familiar with the controls of his new ship. Even now as the ship broke atmosphere, he kept his buy'ce up to avoid the glare of the twin suns that were already attempting to blind newcomers to the harsh planet. Even has he piloted his ship towards the Wayfarer's Rest Casino, he could feel some pain still lingering within his body near his lungs as they still weren't ready for full use. Touching down, he made sure that he was as armed as he needed to be for meeting a contact like this for a contract. Normally, blasters always came out during these meetings. Shooting on the other hand, was something that may not happen.

 

Walking through the casino towards Suite 32A, he kept his ears open for this person he was supposed to meet. What kind of a haran name is Carmen Sandiego and why would they choose this place? Luckily enough, at least Tros' knew where on the world was Carmen Sandiego. Just not the rest of the other details. Finding the suite, he walked in and began to look around to see what sort of stuff was present for him to get into, or if there were any traps.

[Lysander0301]

Private comm message to Ailbasi Zirtani.

 

 

Hello little one, seems that our paths cross again. I am to Rendezvous with you and a mercenary named Parangor ,who is currently on the planet. We have dragons to hunt and plans to steal.

 

[Darth Nyrys]

The moment was interrupted when an armored man entered the room, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. A moment of panic coursed through Ailbasí before it dawned on her that she recognized the man from earlier on the Marie. He had been a representative of the Onderonian nobility during the meeting… Maybe he had been sent to find her? If Gypht had kept her actions a separate consideration from her master’s, maybe he had sent someone to look after her? But here she was, waist deep in corpses of people that she didn’t remember killing, but somehow knew she had. Something beyond her ability to control had derailed her life, but if she kept running from it things would only continue to spiral further out of control. It was time to find her footing and learn how to take the reins of this strangeness. She couldn’t claim that she wanted this yet, but she definitely needed it.

 

“Did something happen? I passed out and woke up here, and everyone was dead. We were on the Marie together earlier today… or yesterday, I don’t know how long I was out.”

 

Ailbasí checked her comm in an attempt to orient her sense of time only to find it out of charge. She placed it on a nearby wireless charge pad that still gave a green glow of functionality, and was shocked when she saw the date. Once the device restored service, it also mentioned that she had missed over three thousand messages and calls.

She quick tapped out messages to her ship’s pilot, her bodyguard (who apparently was already enroute and deserved a bonus), and the Sith, to let them know that she was still alive. She was pretty sure that the man wasn’t here to kill her, since he hadn’t yet, but he was still an unknown variable. A sound from out of sight but not as distant as she would have liked echoed through the room, barging in on her thoughts.

 

“...That’s not a good sound.”

[Parangor]

The sound was something Drogan had never heard before but it set his warriors blood to boiling, that sound, that sound could only come from something that was worthy to hunt. Focusing again on the young women in front of him he stepped into the room to examine the dead. They were certainly all killed in a similar manner, and one he had only seen a few times before. These beings had all been killed by the force or claws or both, an impressive feat for one so young. Removing his hand from the hilt of his sword he looked the scene over one more time.

 

"For one so young this is impressive, force or no, you took out quite a few people here. How many were attacking you? Then again that may be a question for another time. Yes I was on the Marie and yes we have met though it has been awhile. I am not sure what drew me here, but hearing that sound gives me hope there may be some excitement to come. I don't know what drew me here but I am glad for it. The fight to come, I sense in my bones it will be one worth remembering."

 

Pausing a moment he sent a com to his ship to ready it for departure and potentially a hunt.

 

"Now young lady if you would be so kind to explain what happened here, perhaps we can prepare for what ever is coming and see what our futures, no matter how short, hold."

[The Black Sun Armada]

A lady agent of the Red Dawn Initiative stepped out of the shadows in the suite, dressed all in red battlescarred mandalorian armour, she inclined her head at Tros and stuck out her hand. Robotic to the touch, the servomotors whined above the din of a dance party a floor above.

 

“Welcome friend, you must be Ardell, from Mandalore, the first of your people to respond to our contract offering. What positions interest you? Training? War? Farming? I see that most of the protectors must favour the latter as none but you have responded.”

 

Her voice was thick in Concord Dawnish accent, but the disdain that came through her faceplate showed her opinion on the Protectors. She flipped through some datacards in a folder.

“We have openings alongside another Mandalorian group that we have been funding and working with on the distant moon of Dxun if you are interested in such things, as well as raids and training opportunities with them as well. You see our organization is interested in building the strong to conquer, not protecting the weak.”

 

Her statement was one of the many tests that were to follow. For though the Red Dawn Initiative was covertly Black Sun funded through many shell companies and Black Sun was not wanting for credits, they would not easily give away hard won credits to those that desired nothing but lavish lifestyle. This would be hard work and dangerous work. But it would be oh so rewarding for the few that survived.

[saberforce]

Tros kept his buy'ce on as he glanced at the hand from the woman dressed in her own beskar'gam that looked very worn in. Take her hand in a shake, he slowly nodded his head, choosing to instead keep his own opinions and thoughts to himself. He did however listening very carefully and intently upon the offer that was given. Duxun.... That jungle of a hell hole is a hot spot again... Once he was sure she was done with he offer, he spoke rather slowly at first, letting his own caution show.

 

"I have recently been injured to the point of being unable to perform too much physical actions. So my role in raiding would need to be limited. Training on the other hand... that is something I can do very well. If you want soldiers that can shoot and shoot very well, I'm the best. What does it pay?"

[The Black Sun Armada]

Her fingers ran through the stacks of datacards like like lightning. Finally selecting one and pulling it from its perch. She held it up and the autoplay feature kicked in covinering the small room with blue holographic light.

 

“Six hundred thousand credits per month for your participation in the Red Dawn’s Cuy'val Dar programme.” Came the sensual voice of a female falleen narrator. The pheromones seemed to ooze from the small speakers around the room. “Your career records qualify you for the initial benefit package of one million credits in stocks, and fully covered medical and psychological package.” The Agent paused the playback and spoke.

 

“If you are wounded we have some of the best medical facilities in the Outer Rim available. Though to take this job you should know that there is an extensive cloning regimine about to begin.” Her ‘T’ visor looked him up and down. Taking in every little stain, scar, and wardamage on him. “Your DNA profile and lineage intrigues us. Would you be interested in that? You would be training a series of a hundred clones in warfare and combat initially. Not necessarily of you yourself, but some of the best warriors in the galaxy. It would be your chance to leave a legacy.”

 

She looked back down to his belt.

 

"Though if you are not interested in that, we have many other jobs available."

[saberforce]

Tros quietly listened to the proposal given. It was intriguing for him, the thought of cloning. To have many just like him all over the galaxy, fighting... It was almost intoxicating. Let alone the very price tag on it would be exactly what he was looking for. Slowly nodding his head, he removed his buy'ce, which is something he rarely did in front of strangers. Putting it under one arm, he extended his other hand.

 

"Ni vorer. Although my injuries aren't as bad as they seem. I took a sniper round to my lungs on Mandalore. I can move, just with great pain."

 

Although within his own mind he had the thought the maybe the pain was a constant reminder of everyone he lost during that battle, and a sign of how weak the frontline had become before a victory was brought to bear.

 

 

Ni vorer. - I Accept

 

[The Black Sun Armada]

The Red Dawn Agent nodded grimly, her expression neutral behind her mask as she grabbed his hand and shook it. He had a strong grip, which was good. She handed him a datacard, larger than most, and with a large document of agreement terms on it.

 

“Please sign this and take this card,” She placed a golden inlaid card onto his palm. It had his name and Unique identifier on it. 024987. “And make your way to the medical wing two floors above for DNA extraction and treatment for your wounds. Thank you, and I look forward to seeing you again Tros.”

[saberforce]

Tros looked at the gold item placed within his open hand for a brief second before he gave a slight nod back to the Red Dawn member. He was then quick to put his buy'ce back on as he started to move upstairs two levels to begin this process of making at the very least, his face, very well known throughout the galaxy. It was something new to him, seeing as he wasn't used to people seeing his face. Better to do it now, I guess. As he walked, he kept looking down at the gold card, observing his name on it. It seemed rather odd to him, to be doing such a large task to quickly after he was apart of a war on the home planet of his people. But my home... Shogun, most of the Clans... they were all almost wiped out during that bloody conflict. This is my chance to repopulate Clan Ardell...

 

He found himself staring at the door into the medical wing, feeling every weight of his own breath, due to both his own hesitation and his lungs still recovering from the sniper shot. The hot sun, even indoors on this planet were beginning to take it's toll on him. A good thing they'll help with the healing process. After a good three seconds passed by, he walked through the door and stopped at the front desk.

 

"I am Tros Ardell. I am here to have my DNA extracted, and to have treatment for a collapsed lung. I was given this ID card..."

 

Tros handed the gold card over to to receptionist. From here, he was sure things were about to be speed along.

[Lysander0301]

Lysander awoke in the sound of his bacta tank draining. They had finally arrive to the dust ball of the galaxy. The pain in his arm had turn from sharp to dull. It was healed enough but could break at anything to strenuous.

 

As he began to clean up, he listened to his response to his earlier message. It was short and filled with more than necessary apologies, but still included a meeting location. He geared up for his journey into settlement taking special steps to add padding and a brace for his arm. The vision from Kaskyyyk still buzzing in his head.

 

The Hand of Malcore landed a distance away for the settlement and Lysander loaded up the bike he “borrowed” from Onderon. Upon reaching the settlement a deafening roar was heard, a massive creature was seen ready to assault the settlement, the smell of blood hung in the air. “Welcome Home Hunter” an angelic voice whispered in Lysander’s ear as he accelerated towards the beast.

[Darth Nyrys]

"I... I don't remember, but at the same time I know that it was me that killed them. I think I was in a trance state, and my subconscious and the Force were doing whatever was necessary to keep me alive. Otherwise without my medication I wouldn't even be able to stand right now."

 

Receding a moment into her thoughts, Ailbasí rummaged through her memories on the pre-invasion briefing data on Tatooine. There were two primary predators on Tatooine in this locale able to make so much noise, sand demons and krayt dragons. However, sand demons were pack hunters and this sounded like a solitary bellow. Stealing a glance through a broken window, she saw the creature stalking closer, a subspecies of krayt dragon called a canyon krayt dragon.

 

"Good news, it's only the 30 meter long murder machine."

[Parangor]

Looking out the same window Drogan couldn't help but smile under his helm. It had been awhile since he got to hunt such a beast but sadly he had not comed prepared for such a hunt. Switching to his com he sent a message to his second. "Currently a Krayt dragon is closing on my location, I want the gunship airborne and closing on this location within the next two minutes. Lock onto my coms and wait for further instruction upon arrival." Looking over at the young women standin in the room he did a quick mental combat scenario and saw no way of winning with the limited weaponry he had brought with him, and force or no stopping one of these beasts was not going to be easy.

 

"I suggest we move from the building and attempt to lead it away from the settlement. If it is tracking you we can lead it to an open space where my gunship can bombard it from above and quickly end its life. Unless of course you have any other suggestions?"

[The Black Sun Armada]

“Master Tros Ardell, we have been awaiting you.”

 

Said the medical nurse who was waiting with a clipboard over her white robed chest before the card had even changed hands. She was a cathar, grey and white furred beauty, aged 23 years and she wore her age well. She led the man to a back room which was well lit and sat him down on a procedure table. A 21-b droid rolled into the room and began to set up equipment as she took his pulse and blood pressure.

 

“I will need you to take off your armour and get into this smock when you are ready Master Ardell.”

 

She gestured to a medical garment that was flimsy and would not much cover his dignity. Her eyes watched him, unwavering, and she did not turn her back for his privacy.

[Sheog the Mad]

From the sands a figure stepped, cloth once ebony was now sand-stained wrappings, clinging to its form in tatters. A low hiss spread from the pursed lips that were cast in unnatural shadow beneath the burning sun. Sand shifted beneath its feet, cloth crumbling, and the figure collapsed into shapeless darkness. Across the shifting sands came a pale whisper to the ears of the feline

 

Death some would pray, could you wait to come upon me another day,

Broken children prayed, your master preached, but time and mercy is out of your reach.

 

With it came the feelings of a thousand eyes prying at the soul, seeking only lies. There were lessons to be learned amongst the sands, that the comfort of company could not comprehend. Salvation or damnation, either could be brought to heel.

[Darth Nyrys]

Already nose deep in her newly recharged comm, Ailbasí was reading an article on Krayt dragons and their anatomy and physiology.

 

"If we leave the building we're just exposing ourselves to it, and according this, it's faster than us. However, apparently it has a weak spot, a soft nasal cavity that leads to the brain. See, there's even a diagram picture thing."

 

The hapless Sith apprentice held up her comm to show the hunter.

 

"I can distract it while you line up the shot... I think anyway. If I'm wrong its not like I'll be around for you to yell at me though."

 

It was like sticking her hand into a roaring river. Before she had jumped in without holding back, and had been swept away in the current as a result, but this time she needed some measure of control. Whatever she had done while trapped in that irresistible sweeping force still lingered to some degree on the bodies, waiting to be tapped into. She didn't understand yet, but the fear of death made her willing to gamble on guesswork and instinct. Earlier when she had been calling out, the corpse of that girl had been calling out too, mimicking her actions. Ailbasí plunged her hand into those dark waters, and immediately was nearly carried away by the freezing pull of their embrace.

 

Digging her claws into her palm made a beacon of pain to tie her to riverbank of consciousness. The depths pulled, pleaded, demanded, and whispered seductively to her as she fought to stay in the here and now. Through the pain she managed to avoid sinking back into the waves, and instead steadied herself against the pull so that she could focus. Gossamer strands of ephemera, just like what had connected her to Sheog, and then the officer on Onderon, now drifted on ethereal winds throughout the building, each tendril leading to a dead body. She could feel their fragility through the binding, they were consumed shells no more resilient than a flaky puff pastry, but she only needed them to distract, not to fight.

 

"Get up!" she cried out, and the dead obeyed her order in a disjointed and awkward stumble to their feet. "Run out there and circle the beast!"

 

Ailbasí kept her orders simple and direct, not having any concept of where the boundaries were for what she could do. Some of the corpses didn't even making it outside of the building before their crumbling sprawl was terminated in the dusty explosion of a desiccated husk. Those that did make it outside began harrying the krayt dragon in a way that made its movements predictable for the hunter. With each swipe of a claw or lash of its tail she lost more puppets though.

 

"If you're going to do something do it now, hunter!"

 

Somewhere in the back of her head she felt a voice from the river, beckoning to her. She let it know that she would join it after the threat was gone.

[Sheog the Mad]

A shadow formed in the corner of the feline eye of the apprentice, hanging like a windblown pall just outside of her vision. It was as black as smoke, and moved as if it was breathing. Each inhalation brought with it the caress of the sand. It was a skulking remonstrance of tranquility that began to eclipse the danger of the even the Krayt dragon.

 

...Dragons die, kinsmen die, but who will sing you to the death-sleep? The ignored?

 

The Thralls of the feline, those borne of necromancy increased their furor unbidden. A heart was hammering from somewhere in the deep, and with it a second voice. It had neither breath or spirit, nor warmth, nor complexion upon its tongue.

 

...I come unto the desert, eternally shifting and grinding bone to sand. You upon its shore, so distant from your stars, with no fixed fate. Sorrowed in solitude, astray from warm life.

[Parangor]

It was decidely unsettling that the young women somehow made the dead rise and walk but his warrior training allowed him to compartmentalize that so he could deal with the matter at hand. He wasn't excited to be using heavy blaster pistols to attack a dragon but he always did enjoy a challenge. Kneeling by the window he slowly aimed his pistol and squeezed off a shot, the bolt strking the dragon on the side of its head. Damn he thought, he wasn't happy with taking shots at such a small target but he would attempt it again. "Not on the head in the nose, you need to get it right this time hunter."

 

He turned his head slightly to cast a glare at the young women, "I will be doing my best, but if you it is not up to your standards you may want to take up a blaster and aim for a small hole one a moving creature." Slowly drawing a bead once more on the beast he watched its attack patterns till he was sure he had it down. Drawing in a breath and slowly letting it out he fired, grinning slightly as the bolt disappeared up the dragons nose, if nothing else the creature looked dazed. Taking advantage of its lack of movement Drogan took the chance and let loose a stream of five shots, three of which he believed went into the nose as well. This beliefe seemed to have been confirmed as the beast fell to the side twitching, it seemed to still be alive but severly brain damaged.

 

"Well young lady I believe we need to finish off the beast. I hope whatever drew it here was worth it, and that you can explain the walking corpses as we approach it."

[saberforce]

Tros almost gave a hard stare at the nurse, but refrained from doing so due to the nature of his contract that he was accepting with the Red Dawn. luckily, his buy'ce hid his facial expression, which would've easily have shown his displeasure for being asked such a question. After a few seconds passed by, he simply nodded and began to take his beskar'gam off, which had now become a collection of those of whom he had loved. Each piece now belonged to someone else during one time or another. Once he was finished, he made sure his sentiments of taking care of his equipment to the nurse as he put the smock on. It was rather indecent, even my medical standards. But he didn't care as much, mainly due to it being a female nurse that was not humanoid, and secondly because the credits upon which he would receive completely outweighed whatever uncomfortableness he may feel. Finishing up, he turned around and gave a slight nod to the nurse to let her know that he was okay with whatever was next for him to do.