Tatooine

[Tobias Vos]

Tobias deactivated his weapon, grabbed the Ax, and the beast came to his side. He listened to Emily as she made demands of him. He chuckled.

 

He turned to face her, "The name is Tobias. I was Sith... Now I am something in-between. I know you Through a bounty I was posted on, and how I found you? Unimportant. And as for rescuing you, and finding a ship, I require you to deliver this-" he held out his saber "- to the Bounty Hunter - Slicer. Do this and your debt to me is paid in full."

 

The lower part of his face was showing. Stubble, tan-well nurished skin- nothing she could describe to the other lords what he looks like now. "Do we have a deal?"

[Emily]

It was a simple enough request, but it struck her as odd. Indeed, everything about this situation struck her as odd. Why was there a bounty posted on her? Why had a semi-Sith taken it on? Why did a bounty hunter need a lightsaber? How did he know where she was, and why was he refusing to say?

 

She wished she could think more clearly. Her mind was still fuzzy from the drugs lingering in her system. All she had were her instincts, and so she slowly took a step backwards.

 

"How I am to find this bounty hunter?" She knew it was useless to ask the other question that were circling through her brain. Maybe the question she did ask aloud was a simple one, but she had little way of knowing. Her filters had for the most part been turned off due to the drugs, and it would be clear to Tobias that she was having a hard time thinking.

 

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to be beholden to anyone. And you forget that there is no debt that I owe you. I owe the hidden sniper who started this confusion. You merely took advantage of it, as did I." Her instincts were telling her she couldn't trust him; after all, he had been trained as a Sith, and she had never met a single Sith that she could trust completely. Her voice wavered a bit as she continued. "Thank you for your assistance, but I'll find my own way offworld."

 

She didn't know what he would say to that, but she was well aware that if he took offense, she might have just put herself in a dangerous situation. The only reason she had risked it was because he had stated he was something in between Sith and Jedi.

[Tobias Vos]

He withdrew his weapon. Frustration filled his thoughts- not anger. Just irritated.

 

"You would have been shot 13 times had I not blocked the shots. Do you not want to fight the Jedi? Or are you one of those people who call yourself a sith, but is intact scared to fight? You would not do your former master proud, as this mission I am on was endorsed by him. As for the sniper, who do you think gave him the cue to shoot? This was a stunt preformed by him and I in coordination."

 

Through their mind weld Tobias told Sooba to scamper off. And scamper off he did. It was just the two Sith in the theatre. Tobias would squash her like a bug if she decided to fight.

[Emily]

He wasn't making an ounce of sense. Where did the sudden talk of Jedi come from? And no one had been shooting at the slaves; after all, they were valuable property. She also found it unlikely that the sniper had been working with Tobias; she thought she had seen a Mandalorian who had a sniper rifle quickly leaving the auditorium.

 

She shook her head. It must have been the drugs. He really wasn't making sense, and she had no energy to argue. "Fine," she said tiredly. "I'll take the lightsaber. But I'll find my own way off-planet."

 

All she wanted to do was curl up somewhere warm and sleep off the fuzziness in her brain. She didn't want to argue with this mysterious half-Sith who had taken to insulting her.

[Cyrii]

It was a particularly slow day for salvage for the Jawas of the Kakk clan. After years of pillaging the wastes of the Dune Sea you would think that there would be nothing left and hence everyday would be slow, but the Jawas kept finding things wherever they were and never gave up. It was their lot in life after all and they didn't really mind it.

 

Still, with their sandcrawler parked a few clicks away from Mos Espa, a small squad of Jawas started rolling into the city in the hopes of finding work. Whether they had the fortune of finding easy prey to swindle, or were lucky enough to find a person in need of salvage at negotiable prices, they just put themselves out there in the hopes of attracting attention. They all grouped together though, because each individual had a small problem going anywhere by themselves. Well... Everyone, except Cyrii.

 

Cyrii was slightly smaller than the rest of them and although they remained in a tight nit group, Cryii's curiosity often led him outside the huddle. Cyrii did return after most of these little detours, but a large concentration of yelling and screaming drew his attention.

 

The others of his tribe made noises at him as he left for the sixth time, but when it appeared he wasn't coming back, the other Jawas didn't know what to do. They liked each other, but if one of them went off to catch Cyrii, there was no telling what might happen to the rest of them. Tatooine was a dangerous planet; the little people knew it well. Instead, the group kept wandering on and figured that Cyrii knew his way back. If not, they would try to swing by on their way back in the hopes that Cyrii's curiosity was finally sated.

 

Cyrii followed the screaming and the panicking from a good distance. He didn't really have too much success seeing as well in the sun as he did at night, but his hearing was really good.

 

He knew big people were having issues. He just didn't really know why big people made such loud noises. It often hurt to hear, but Cyrii didn't really mind. He like boom, so loud noises weren't really that much different.

 

The Jawa, in his continuing curiosity, waddled further and further toward what appeared to be an amphitheater. He didn't really know what that meant and thought, by the hordes of people screaming, that it was a huge house where big people screamed at each other. It was an odd concept to be sure, but big people probably needed some place to let out anger. That way, they don't let it out on others. Right?

 

Cyrii stopped for a moment at one of the entrances as a large metal man ran through the entrance nearest to him. He was almost going to run after the shiny man, when he saw a glowing red light. Immediately the Jawas simple mind glued to the bright red illumination without cause. He couldn't really stop his legs from moving that direction at that point, even through the panicked people and although he lost sight of the red light at one point or another he pressed on. He did have to bob and weave occasionally, but being as small as he was gave a certain advantage in crowds.

 

Finally when it seemed he had caught up to the light, it vanished. There was a hissing sound, almost like air escaping from a malfunctioning droid, but Cyrii didn't really make the connection. He did however notice that what had made the red light, was currently in some man's hands.

 

It was small and silver-ish and difficult to see completely through the man's grip, but easy enough to imagine.

 

Cyrii looked on in amazement at the object as if it were some sort of deity. Then, when the big man passed the device to another, the Jawa's attention switched with it and that is when Cyrii noticed that the big people were talking to one another. He didn't really know all of what they were saying, because he hadn't boned up on his general speak, but that didn't change his perceptions. He saw a silver doodad being passed around and it made a pretty light. He was really close to asking for it and reaching out a hand at it, but he decided against making a sound and instead twiddled his gloved fingers around a little bit.

 

There appeared to be anger in the big people's eyes and words. Cyrii had seen it before in some of his brothers and sisters, but big people were different. Big people got violent when they got angry, so Cyrii did not say anything for fear of drawing the anger to him.

[Tobias Vos]

"Thank you, Emily. There's a vacant shipyard just down the way, I made my beast go clear it out. If you do not want an easy ship to take, you can always go the opposite way. Here is a credit-chip. Buy some food and new clothes. We will meet down the road, of that I am sure. Take care." With that, Tobias tossed the lightsaber to Emily, turned on his heel and started to walk out.

 

Keeping his guard up, he made haste out the theatre. And in the back of his mind, he wondered how things would have went if Furion had kept his contract out on the girl. He would be a Lord, and Emily wouldn't have been in this position. Of course, thousands of other things would have changed.

 

Irrelevant, he walked out of the theater and over some dead bodies, to see a Jawa standing at the entrance. Curious creatures Jawas. But like any other time, he walked straight by. He had no interest in buying a droid today anyways. Then, within minutes, he was off world.

[Cyrii]

Cyrii looked up with a quizzical expression that wasn't really easy to see through his hood. He was standing at the feet of two big people discussing and then without much precedence, the person who wielded the red stick tossed it to the other big person who was slightly softer. Then, he ignored Cyrii and went off toward the entrance, catching a wandering Jawa of another clan.

 

Cyrii almost saw it as justification to leave, but he was still interested in the light stick. It was pretty and shiny... And he just wanted to see it and maybe hold it a little bit. Maybe?

 

The Jawa stood silently next to a big person who wasn't wearing much clothes. ((Emily)) He didn't really speak and since the other man seemed to ignore him, he didn't particularly value his impression upon this particular big person. Still... He waited and wondered if the big person was willing to permit his curiosity.

[Emily]

And just like that, Tobias left. Emily shrugged, still quite puzzled. She turned to go, and almost ran into a jawa. She wrinkled her nose. The stench coming off the little creature was overpowering.

 

"Shoo!" she said, waving her hands at it. She then turned and headed through the city, stopping only to grab a brown cloak off one of the bodies that now scattered the arena. She didn't want to be caught the last one here when--or if--the authorities showed up.

 

Slipping the robe over her scantily-clad form, she headed towards the spaceport, her mind growing clearer with every step.

[Cyrii]

Cyrii was a little frazzled as he was stumbled over, but he looked expectantly back at the big person in the hopes that it got her attention. The only problem is, that it did get her attention. She stuck her big arms out and waved them around stating a word that Cyrii heard very often, "Shoo."

 

Cyrii often got that word mixed up with another word that sounded similar in the big people language, but he didn't really have a firm grasp of what either of them meant. So, instead of heeding her command, because he didn't properly understand it, he followed her through the city, with his eyes peeled on the silver thing she carried with her. He wanted to hold it, or see it... Tinker with it? Something. He didn't really care.

 

Still, even though he didn't have much in the way of a deductive mind, he managed to possibly, maybe perceive that this big person was trying to avoid him. It didn't really offend him to figure that out, because many big people tried to avoid him, but this was different. He wanted the thing and he was prepared to give anything to get it.

 

What would it take?

 

Cyrii wondered for a moment silently to himself as the big person leaned down and grabbed a robe and draped it over herself much like Cyrii and the other Jawas around. It was an interesting thing and the Jawa didn't really understand it, except possibly in the terms of his own people. The big person didn't really seem to be wearing much clothing before in the blistering heat and to cover itself it must do what it can. The move didn't really phase Cyrii's curiosity either, because he didn't lose her scent and was able to track her even with the robe. He just needed to figure out what it would take to get the shiny thing.

 

The big person sort of stopped once more at a crux in the road leading to a place where big machines were kept. A place where big machines took people off world. So this was his only chance.

 

Cyrii took a chance and ran to keep up with the big person. He reached for something in his pockets and ended up tripping over the big person's foot. Sand puffed around him as he slammed into the ground and almost destroyed the inside of his hood. He immediately regretted his move and tried to pick himself up without causing much trouble, but there were huge cakes of sand everywhere and it weighed him down. He looked for sympathy from the big person, but knew it had none. Instead, he took a thermal detonator from his pocket, shined it up on his sleeve and blew the dust out of it. Then he held it up and pointed to the silver light stick. He tried to say barter in the Jawa trade language, but it came out slightly different. The pronunciation was such that most who knew the Jawa trade language would understand, but otherwise Cyrii was making a small chattering noise and holding a very nice, but slightly dusty thermal detonator to the big person in front of him.

 

Upon closer inspection, one would find that Cyrii has increased the blast radius of this particular grenade and slightly adjusted the magnitude. He had to sacrifice the magnitude for greater range, but it still had its uses.

 

Cyrii looked expectantly at the big person in the hopes that his trade was enough.

[Emily]

The Jawa was still following her. She groaned. This was the last thing she needed. She could tell that the tiny being wanted the lightsaber. Well, there was no way he was getting it. Even if she had no real desire to do Tobias' dirty work for him, the thought of a Jawa with a lightsaber was not a desirous outcome.

 

The smelly creature was hurrying close beside her; so close in fact that it ended up tripping over her foot. That caused her to stop. She put her hands on her hips. "What do you want?"

 

The creature chattered and reached into it's robes, pulling out what Emily could clearly see was a thermal detonator. For a split second, she thought it was threatening her. But there was no sense of danger from the Force, and after a moment, she assumed it was trying to barter with her.

 

She sighed. She didn't speak any of his language; she couldn't tell him that the lightsaber was not for sale. So she did the only thing she could. She reached out with the Force and implanted the thought in his head that he really didn't want such a useless shiny stick, and that he would be much happier with his thermal detonator. She also added the impression that if he continued to ask for it, he was was going to get into big trouble, so really, it wasn't worth it at all and he should just go back to his sandcrawler.

[Cyrii]

All of a sudden, Cyrii had a change of perception. His attention shifted from the shiny stick to something else and he had the sudden impulse to go off to his sandcrawler... Only... He didn't remember where it was.

 

He turned back to the big person, tried to shake out a bit of the sand from his spill on the ground and replaced his detonator, but seemed to stall there for a few moments scratching the top of his hood, as if it were a physical representation of his head.

 

He looked around both ways and then just looked back up at the big person with befuddlement written in his expression, even if it wasn't really easy to see in his golden yellow eyes.

[Emily]

She sighed. Her connection to the Force was still wavering, and obviously the Force suggestion hadn't really taken hold. She briefly considered simply activating the lightsaber and slicing this thing in two. That would end the headache it was causing. But something stopped her.

 

Instead, she tried again. /You want to get away from here as fast as possible./ If he didn't take the hint this time, she'd have to use force. She didn't have time for this; all she wanted to do was get back to Coruscant as quickly as possible.

[Cyrii]

Cyrii's befuddlement was replaced with a feeling of urgent terror. Something bad was going to happen, he was sure of it, and he had to get away quickly. He looked frantically back and forth, as if the thought wasn't really real, but it didn't go away. So, he shuffled a little, scattering more sand around.

 

He looked up at the big person he had been following before and said bye in his native tongue, waving his hand as he went. However, when he began to shuffle off, he tripped once more on something nearby and one of his explosives flew from his robe and hit the sandstone walk at the big person's feet and began to activate.

 

Cyrii panicked and waved his hands in the air rapidly. He didn't want it to go boom, but it was going to go boom. The big person was going to be caught in the boom. It would be terrible mess, unless... Cyrii's thoughts were almost powerful enough to make him leave, but he fought against them and ran back to the big person as fast as he could, trying to push her out of the way of the active explosive. He knew she might not want him there, but it was his clumsy that made the mess and he had to fix it; he even tried to kick the detonator away, but he didn't kick it far enough and he figured it was better to try to prevent damage then to push it further down the road. He cheeped and made loud noises, increasing the magnitude of his scent to ward people off, because he knew how bad it would be. All the while, he was griping at himself for making such a clumsy mistake.

 

Whether he managed to get the big person to move or not, Cyrii grabbed a big piece of wood nearby and just stood his ground at the big person's feet. Then, when the bomb exploded, the Jawa leaped up, but a little forward in the air, catching the brunt of the blast and helping to push the big person away from trouble, by providing his body as not only a dampener, but an extra amount of pressure.

 

((I understand you could use the force to push it away and I apologize if this comes a little close to RPing your actions, but I was kind of going off the assumption that the bomb was detonating and you were paying more attention to your mission than the danger, because your force affinity was still a little fuzzy... If not, I will edit. Send me a PM before you post so I know, Please? Thanks. ))

[Emily]

((OOC: You're right, I would have just Force-pushed it away, but no worries. I'll just roll with this.))

 

She had thought she had finally gotten through when the Jawa waved and turned away. Good riddance, she thought, relieved. She turned to continue towards the spaceport when suddenly the Jawa tackled her, sending her to the ground.

 

"What the kriff?" she shouted. "Get off me!"

 

But the Jawa was already off of her, chittering loudly and facing a small blinking silver ball. She had just enough time to register what it was when it blew. The Jawa was caught between the blast and herself, absorbing the brunt of the blow and careening back into her again, this time knocking the wind out of her. Heat washed over her, and she instinctively shielded herself with the Force, absorbing the energy and bleeding it back into the ground.

 

It was as if everything had frozen, and time suddenly had to rush to make up for it. She found herself on her feet again, a few burns here and there, but nothing serious. The same could not be said for the Jawa, who, she realized, had deliberately jumped between her and the blast. People were starting to come running towards the scene, and all Emily wanted to do was get out of there. According to their laws, she was an escaped slave, and she didn't think they would take her side of it.

 

She stumbled back a few steps, then paused. Could she really leave the little Jawa to his fate after he had saved her life? The debate raged within her. She knew what her master would say. The being's actions had been noble, but she was to think of herself before anyone else. But then the Jedi Healer Organa's face flashed through her mind. She shook it away.

 

Emily grimaced. She didn't like the idea of being in debt to the creature. But there really wasn't anything she could do. She didn't know what was going to happen to it--hopefully one of the people that was now approaching would give it some medical attention. She somehow doubted it though; from what she knew of Jawas, no one thought twice about their welfare.

 

With one last look at the Jawa, she turned and ran, leaving only one last Force-imprint in its mind--that she was grateful for what it had done. Then she was lost in the crowd, another dirty, bedraggled citizen hurrying about her business.

[Cyrii]

((Neat, thanks.))

 

Pain... Lots of pain splintered throughout the Jawa's body. He wasn't really schooled in medicine, but Cyrii was pretty sure that large parts of his body were broken or splintered. He could still breathe, which was helpful, but it hurt to move.

 

From what he could still see, through his foggy consciousness and his fading vitals, the people he saw around him were okay although they seemed a bit frazzled, reasonably so. Even the big person was okay and although she was fading from his weary eyes, he was glad she was okay. The same couldn't really be said for him, but he knew all about things that went boom and the consequences for jumping in front of them. So, he didn't really feel emotionally conflicted. Not that it was really his thing to feel emotionally conflicted.

 

Still... Conflict or not. He hurt, so much and his sight wasn't really consistent.

[Oakheart]

He didn't drink.

 

From where he sat, Archer had a good view of the cantina's every angle, and he sat with a silent nonchalance that drew little attention his way from anyone else with a gun--despite his armor, which was enough to generally draw an eye to it. No one in Mos Espa, let alone the whole of Tatooine, could recognize him from his armor. No one on any planet since Mandalore even knew his face. It was the simple and effective business card of a Mandalorian, his armor. To hide an identity and also broadcast a presence. He had learned to utilize this.

 

He had left his rifle aboard Ka'ra, and carried only his knife, carbine, pistol. His intention was anything but remaining on Tatooine at all, and too many weapons in public was potentially worse than too few, in his opinion. As he watched the small-talk proceedings of the cantina from behind his mask and the visor of his helmet, he kept a special focus on the doorway and the view of the dusty street beyond.

 

His comm frequency had picked up a burst of chatter just before, and a man had just a moment before tucked into the place and turned to an acquaintance with news of a "damn Jawa" and a detonator.

 

Archer tapped his forefinger lightly against his armored thigh, leaned back against the wall behind his stool, waited.

[Emily]

Emily soon found herself in a local cantina. Brushing the residual sand off her looted robe, she made her way through the crowd, her goal being to find a pilot to take her off-world. The place was seedy, but it wasn't anything she hadn't expected. Nevertheless, she consciously drew the robe tighter around her. It wouldn't do to let some of these patrons glimpse the metal bikini-style dancer attire she wore.

 

As she worked her way through the crowd, she kept her senses open. Her mind had cleared considerably; the drugs were almost through her system. Her first stop was the 'fresher. After relieving herself, she brushed the rest of the sand out of her hair and returned to the main area of the cantina.

 

Eventually she found her way to the bar. She didn't have any credits on her, so she didn't order anything, as much as that would irk the bartender. Instead, she asked him if he knew of any pilots looking for a simple ferrying run.

 

He pointed out several in the area with a disgruntled look, then turned back to his work.

[Oakheart]

He watched the next one come in, a girl--a young woman. He had a feeling about this one. Partly, as it always went, he had such a feeling because of what she was wearing, because of how she carried herself, because of the look in the eye and the face, because of what she first did when she came in. These were factors with every potential employer, in most situations; at least, in parts like these. But it was also beyond that. Archer just had a feeling.

 

As it was, she came in and immediately brushed the sand off her robe; the robe was, to Archer's eye, obviously not made for her, even if it fit her well enough to serve its purpose. But anyone who came into a cantina as a local, or a well-versed traveler, wouldn't bother with the brushing off, not on Tatooine. The next few actions gave her away entirely as a potential employer. Drawing a robe tightly to her indicated either precarious circumstances, a self-consciousness in such an environment as the cantina, a need for security, or all of these. She went first out of sight to the restroom (another indication; in Archer's experience, a normal act would be buying a drink, before anything else...although, of course, Archer hadn't done that either).

 

And she did not buy a drink, which solidified Archer's notion of her. He watched her engage with the bartender, and the look of the man, the look on her own face, and the fact that he pointed about to several men--all of whom Archer noted, and of whom he was not one indicated--made the rest clear to him. She was looking for transport.

 

Those pointed out were seedy, obviously, but none of them were bounty hunters. The bartender wouldn't refrain from pointing at him due to his not buying a drink; the man was hesitant to do anything involving the Mando'ad. But Mandalorians were widely perceived, rightly or wrongly, as bounty hunters, and it was an obvious notion that bounty hunters would not be open to providing transport to passing individuals.

 

Archer, however, simply wanted a paying excuse to leave Tatooine, for various reasons. Because he knew how quickly this young lady's money could be snatched by any one of those men indicated, he acted preemptively and raised his right hand from his thigh in obvious greeting to the girl. The gesture would catch her attention, his armor would draw that attention fully, and when this occurred he would gesture with the raised hand for her to come over. Then, in his straightforward way, he would offer the transport she sought.

[Emily]

She had begun moving towards one of the cleaner-shaven men pointed out to her by the bartender, when someone raised a gauntleted hand and waved, then beckoned to her. She hesitated for a moment. The man was a Mandalorian in full armor. She didn't know much of Mandalorians besides their reputation, but she remembered hearing that they were fierce warriors who could stand up to Force users in battle. She also knew they had a complicated morality that they were very stubborn in sticking to.

 

If this man was anything like the sterotypical Mando, then she could at least respect him.

 

She hesitated no more, but went over to him. "I'm Emily," she said, introducing herself but leaving off her last name. "I'm seeking passage to Coruscant. Would you be interested in the job? I can pay."

 

It was worth a shot, anyway. She didn't think Mandalorians usually took gigs like this, but there was something about this man...

[Oakheart]

When she spoke, each of his previous notions was confirmed in turn. As she approached he had slid off of the raised stool seat, not to intimidate, but out of a simple respect for conversation between them. His hands rested lightly at the belts around his waist, those that synched the holsters of his two guns. His eyes returned to her attire, and he was struck by a notion that he needed to be as clear with this one as he would be with any employer, even if this was "just" transport.

 

"I can take you," he said. "But we need to be clear. Once we are en route, you will have retained my services from here to Coruscant, and I will get you there regardless of obstacles. However," he continued, and here he was treading on instinct, "If your travel is opposed, in any manner, before we reach my ship, and you have not informed of the risk, you will not have secured my protection. In short, if you inform me of the risk, you have my protection. If you don't, you don't."

 

It was to be admitted that Archer didn't have much experience with employers who were younger than he was, or dressed as this one was. But he always knew it paid to be clear from the start.

[Cyrii]

Ouch...

 

Cyrii had managed, after a handful of minutes, to lever himself on his elbows. His head was still swimming and although his robe was still mostly intact, he was bleeding heavily on the inside.

 

His stench seemed to have drawn any potential physician away, so no big person really stopped to help him, but they didn't really step on him either, which was a plus. His head was increasing in wooziness and he couldn't really make out solid shapes. All he could see were big gold blobs with red flecks, which consequently drew his attention away from the pain he was feeling. It didn't however, warn him of the large men that came toward him and picked him up rather roughly.

 

They spoke in loud rambling tones and in Cyrii's infirm state, only really succeeded in making him even more dizzy.

 

Whether or not he understood though, was irrelevant. Cyrii was moving and he didn't really know where he was going.

 

_________________

 

A few moments later, a gang of thugs carrying a Jawa that had already seen the business end of pain, came walking around the edge of the Cantina. They shoved themselves into an alley and proceeded to take out their frustration on the little creature.

 

Upon closer inspection, one of the thugs was missing a couple of fingers and had a hideously burned face. Another thug, had burn marks all up and down his body and a broken wrist.

 

Sharp shrill noises came from the alleyway, followed by loud thudding and cracking sounds.

[Emily]

She shrugged. "Fair deal. I don't think there will be any interference. I doubt anyone is looking for me." That was true; too many of the slavers had died in the sudden attack to worry about tracking down their runaway slaves. She decided to lay it all on the table and see what his response was. "I suppose that if we run into a few specific slavers, they might recognize me and try to recapture me. But I think that is highly unlikely."

 

Besides, let them try. I have the Force back now. I'm no longer a helpless slave. She almost relished the thought of running into them again.

 

"What do you charge?" she asked. Credits had never been an issue for her; her parents had left her plenty. But she wanted a fair deal; she wasn't going to pay an outrageous sum. "I can pay you once we arrive on Coruscant."

[Oakheart]

Archer caught the word "doubt" and almost immediately decided that this was not a suitable answer. He was a bit quick, however, because he was genuinely surprised when she then spoke honestly, and without any disclaimer or attempt at explanation. His surprise was hidden, and he moved not at all, but he thought that perhaps he had spent too much time dealing with too many liars. But who else set bounties on heads?

 

The question of charge also gave him pause. This wasn't his normal job, and in all honesty he had no estimation of what would be appropriate for a transport. Either one was a friend, who received transport without charge, or one was an employer, and never set foot in his ship. Considering he didn't actually care how much credit he received, so long as it was good and it gave him reason to depart, he didn't care. He also knew that, the slave trade being what it was, a slave could either come from no money or a lot of it, and he wasn't going to ask the girl that question.

 

She had been honest and had given her word to pay him on Coruscant. This, combined with the noted realities of his circumstances, gave him his next words. "You have your ride. For your honesty, you can choose the price you pay when we land on Coruscant. If there's nothing else to be said, we can head out."

[Cyrii]

Cyrii had no strength to defend himself and was forced to the sandstone wall again and again. The pain began to numb, but he was pretty sure it wasn't due to his lack of pain, but his lack of blood and his lack of consciousness. He wasn't even perceptive enough to feel the warm tears as they flowed from his eyes.

 

Several of the blobs stopped for a moment as they dug through his body and retrieved what looked to be even smaller silver blobs. They were taking his... his collection. Cyrii couldn't stop himself from sobbing even more. He wanted them back, but he couldn't fight for them. He struggled to find strength in his limbs, but there was no feeling left.

 

The thugs were relentless and didn't seem to mind that they were beating him to death. They didn't stop; they didn't reconsider their consciences. The only thing that remained consistent was the arc of each of their fists as they came crashing down on Cyrii's body where it lay.

 

He was losing hope... He couldn't win and fighting wasn't helping. Maybe it would be better if he just resigned and let himself go. Maybe then they would stop. The big people were confusing and ruthless at times and Cyrii could never really understand all of the mysteries of their world. Maybe he would come back again... Maybe he would meet the other big person again. The one with the shiny stick. He hoped she made it out okay...

 

Finally the thuds started to come less and less, but Cyrii wasn't sure if that was because he couldn't feel them or if he was slowly going away. Either way... It was a slight relief, even if only slight.

[Emily]

She was surprised by his decency. What kind of man would take a job without being assured of credits? For all he knew, she would simply run off without paying him. But he seemed willing to take that risk. Whether that was honor or stupidity, Emily couldn't be sure, but it seemed he had an ulterior motive for taking this job.

 

Despite all that, she felt like she could trust him enough to get her to Coruscant in one piece. That was all that mattered.

 

She tucked back a strand of black hair and rose. "Alright then, I'm ready to go."

 

((OOC: If you want you can go ahead and post us leaving. Up to you. ))

[Cyrii]

Finally, when the thugs were done with the Jawa, they hurled one last punch and threw his body toward the Cantina door. They didn't care where he landed and they didn't really care how he ended up. "The blasted Jawa got what was coming to him," one of the thugs said as he and his friends walked away.

 

Cyrii couldn't really control his breathing and although he was discarded, he couldn't move. He hurt all over and although he needed help, even if he didn't know what help exactly, no one seemed to notice him at the door as they entered and exited the Cantina.

[Oakheart]

For some reason, he thought it a very curious gesture, the tucking of hair behind the ear. It gave him pause, though of course this wasn't visible in his stillness and behind his armor. He realized how many years it had been since he had seen the face of one of his own people's women. He had vague recollections of this gesture.

 

Oh, well.

 

On her verbal assent to departure, Archer sidestepped and moved past her, knowing she would follow. He turned his head towards the bartender, who gave him a swift nod--likely in agreement at his leavetaking--and then walked out the front door.

 

Just to the side of the door lay a Jawa. Archer didn't like Jawas, but this one was splayed over the sandy ground, beaten and broken. It gave Archer a moment of pause, this spectacle, but it brought no empathy, no feeling other than a somber familiarity. He had seen it many times. Many times he had been present before the spectacle of beating became a reality, and had dealt with those that bullied. But he had not been present while this creature was proving too weak to defend itself.

 

And Archer had no reason to give his energy to helping this creature, with whom he had no bond, not even the bond of circumstance, of violence. All they shared was a moment of notice before the dusk, on a sandy planet in a vast galactic system.

 

So Archer turned to make sure his employer was following, and walked onwards. He had picked a cantina near to the docking ports, so it didn't take long before he was almost lovingly linked up with his ship and lowering the boarding ramp to allow them entry.

 

Inside, he immediately drew the ramp up, and as he walked through the entry corridor towards the cockpit he spoke over his shoulder to Emily, "The doors are numbered. The one marked "Two" is one storage hold, there are clothes, some of which should fit you more comfortably than that robe. The one marked "Five" is a bunk room you can use to rest, or for your own space. Other than that, you will only be able to access the corridors and the cockpit, which is where you will find me."

 

With that, he fell silent and continued to the cockpit, at which point he had already engaged all systems through his HUD and, upon immediate clearance, lifted Ka'ra off the ground of Tatooine, into the sky, and into space.

[Cyrii]

A slightly dusty old man, who was only headed toward the Cantina for a drink, passed by the Jawa who seemed on death's door. He wasn't a highly valued doctor, nor a well renown surgeon, but he knew first aid and basic medicine. He also seemed to be the only one around that even noticed the little fellow on the ground.

 

Ordering a drink to go, the man came back and lifted the horrifically beaten Jawa upon his shoulder and began to walk toward his house.

[DarthBrendo]

The ship finally re-entered sub-space, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The flight had taken longer than he had expected and he was starting to get nervous as a result. Looking out the forward viewport, he stared at the barren-looking desert planet that loomed in front of him, the destination of his latest journey some unknown reason, and sighed. He was feeling frustrated, not knowing what was going on in his head, or who he was or why he was having these trigger events which released some of his memories to him, and with unknown tag-alongs that he had to care for as well. He didn't know why they had remained unconscious for so long, but tried to make sure they were comfortable and cared for as best he could. Stirred by a sense of guilt for not having checked on them for some time, he got up from the pilots sea and went back to look at them, and sure enough, as he expected, they were still asleep.

 

Or are they in a coma? When it does it change from being asleep to being in a coma? he wondered to himself, wrinkling his brow in thought as he pondered on the situation. Sighing in resignation, knowing the situation wasn't likely to change anytime soon, he moved back to the cockpit and set course for the surface, for a population centre the chips computer labelled as Mod Eisley.

 

Setting down outside the township, he brought up the data the computer had on the town to try and find out what he was supposed to look for, and came up blank. The ships records had no information on this place.

 

Sithspawn! How could that be? If this is the largest settlement on the planet, then surely there should be some information? Goddammit! I don't know what the hell I'm doing here, or anywhere, or at all! Ugh. What a waste of a trip!

 

He felt some wetness on his face, and raising his hand to touch it, realised he was crying in frustration, and slammed a fist down against the chairs armrest in frustration about that.

 

He sobbed, his shoulders heaving as he sucked in deep breaths of frustration and anger about the situation as he made a decision that he hoped would prove not to be foolish in the future, and angrily stabbed a finger at the console to close the ship back up, and take him back into space. As the ship made its way up through the atmosphere, he asked the computer what the most heavily populated planet in its databanks was, figuring that it would be a start, and he might be able to find someone who recognised his ships markings, or the symbols on the uniforms of the passengers.

 

The computer spat out the answer, and he set course for Coruscant, entering hyperspace with no small amount of trepidation.

[Emily]

Emily did not like coming back here.

 

She had only been to Tatooine once before, and that was when she had been drugged and captured by slavers. It reminded her of a time when she was weak and helpless, and while she knew that had things gone down differently she still would have escaped with time, the memories of this place were almost completely bad. Roe'gall picked up on her uneasiness, whining and pacing through the ship, then bolting down the ramp once it was lowered and taking up a protective stance.

 

The wave of heat that hit her when the ramp was lowered made Emily back up into her ship and head to her quarters to change clothes. The temptation was to wear something tight that revealed a lot of skin, but she knew that the best thing to wear would be something long and loose-fitting. She changed into a long, loose brown dress with soft leather boots, then grabbed a white scarf to throw over her dark hair. Her lightsabers were tucked up her sleeves securely, out of sight but easily accessible should she by chance need them, and several of her throwing stars were also hidden in various places on her person. Bracing herself for a long, hot, miserable stay, she headed down the ramp and locked the ship up securely. Tatooine was a known haven for criminals.

 

She had landed in a city called Anchorhead, a relatively good sized city made of tan clay buildings. What she needed to find was an old local, someone who knew the deserts well, who might know where she could find this mysterious temple. With that goal in mind, she headed to a local cantina, leaving Roe'gall to sit in the shade outside. As she stepped through the small entryway, she noticed with relief that the room was dark and cool. She went to the bar and ordered a local drink. As she waited, she scanned the area, both visually and with the Force. There was the normal assortment of spacers, slavers, criminals, and bums. Several of them had noticed her when she had come in and were eyeing her lewdly, wondering how to make a move. But she was mostly interested in the old, weather worn man in the corner by himself, sipping a Corellian brandy. She ordered another and moved over to his table.

 

Setting it down in front of him, she nodded a greeting. "Can I join you?"

 

The man barely looked up. "Seat's empty, isn't it?"

 

She slipped into it and let the silence grow as they both sipped their drinks. "I'm looking for information on a temple out in the desert. It's called the Temple of the Moon."