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Tatooine


RaveN

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It had been a lot of fun getting here. My doppelganger might have disagreed. But I am finally free of him. I have a job to do and then... well... who knows where I might end up going.


Dhonarr of Cathar hums to himself as he taps on the metal surface of the cockpit panel.

“Nannybot 3000! Hey! Where you at! Get over here!”

A few moments later, the TDL Nanny droid enters the YT-2400’s cockpit area. There is a hint of irritation in the droid’s feminine voice as it responds to his summons.

 

“Master. NAN-3 at your service.”

 

“What took you so long, 3000?”

 

“Master, again. That is not my name.”

 

Dhon spins in his chair and glares at the droid and then at the restraining bolt firmly fastened to her chassis.

 

“Insubordination! Drop down and give me 20!”

 

“But Master--”

 

“20 push ups! Chop chop.”

 

The droid grumbles under its breath as it begins to do push ups.

 

“Aloud!”

 

The droid pauses before resuming, being sure to count out each push up as it performs the motion.

 

“Okay. Stand on up.”

 

With the droid back on its feet, Dhon continued, “So you were saying, 3000?”

 

“How may I serve you, Master?”

 

“Is dinner ready?”

 

“Yes, Master. I was able to prepare--”

 

“Good, good,” Dhonarr interrupts. “Can you bring it here?”

Before the droid can respond, Dhon abruptly interrupts, “Wait! What am I doing? I mean, bring it here at once, 3000!”

 

The droid pauses. Then it woddles off, “As you wish, Master.”

 

“Droids. Got to love um. But not the most reliable pets...”

Pausing to look over the readouts, Dhon grins for a second, “Hmmm. Let me see. We should be dropping out of hyperspace in...”

 

Suddenly the ship pops out of hyperspace, the planet of sandy dunes and shady characters now in full view.

 

“Now! Bingo!” Dhon laughs. “I’m getting good at this, baby!”

 

Giving the air a “high five,” Dhon begins to plot a course towards the planet. He and Ro had done enough legwork beforehand to locate the cloning facility that Rose had used to make her most recent clone.

“Follow the money as they say. And to think...a hidden Black Sun facility! Sounds fancy. Who’d have guessed. On a slum like Tatooine, no less. But then again, where aren’t the Black Sun?”

As NAN-3 enters with a plate of food, Dhon spins around in his chair and grins, “How about you, 3000?”

 

“Master?”

“Na. You wouldn’t have guess either, 3000. Fortunately, our big daddy is Black Sun. And I got his memories.”

If a droid could give a look of utter confusion, Nan-3 face would currently be showing exactly that expression.

 

“Master?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little chassis, 3000! It’s an old code but it will surely get their attention and I know how to ping them.That’s what they call it nowadays, right?”
 

“Call what, Master?”

“Nevermind. You know what I mean...”

“Master, I am not familiar with--”

 

“Sorry. I keep thinking I’m talking to a person, 3000. That’s the thing about wilderness living, 3000. You get used to talking to yourself. Or a pet if you are lucky. It helps you think, you know.”

“Whatever you say, Master.”

 

Dhon dives into his plate of food, scooping in a few mouthfuls before continuing, “Whuff omm trienn tu swae ss wiff linna nish tu hov shoo aroun.”

“Master, I do not believe I am versed in that dialect.”

 

Dhon begins to laugh, almost choking on his food in the process. He is thrown into a coughing fit as the droid seemingly stands there in amusement, making no attempt to help him or pat him on the back. After he finally stops coughing, Dhon hands NAN-3 his half eaten plate of food. His eyes are watering a little from all the coughing as he wipes his braided beard.

“Make yourself useful, 3000, and take this back to the galley. I got some real people work to do.”

“As you command, Master.”

 

Spinning back around in his seat, Dhon takes over the controls as he types in a message for the Black Sun Facility on an encoded channel.

 

Spoiler

 

Message From TXV2849:
Howdy, Black Sun Facility. I happen to have a delivery for a Black Sun operative that has recently been parted with her property. I would like clearance to land at the facility. Awaiting further instructions.

Durose Roshan Out.

 



As Dhon’s vessel breaks Tatooine’s atmosphere, he grins.

 

“Well, 3000,” he mumbled to himself, “The job is almost over and we have a new fancy ship to call my own... even if the ‘Rose’s Gambit’ is one of the silliest, weird names I’ve ever heard. I swear that Watcher has got a screw loose. But I guess that loose screw helped me get a beaut’ like this baby! So you won’t see me complaining!”

Yelling down the corridor, Dhon directs his comment towards the droid that is long gone by now, “Right, 3000!”

He laughs loudly for a moment before a wide smirk wriggles across his face and his eyes squint ever so deviously.

 

“Right.”

___
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Edited by Durose Roshan
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Xar was somewhat annoyed that the two didn’t take his comment about the facility and the fact that he was able to hack their local system more seriously. Surely these two should’ve been impressed with such a droid like himself! It's not like anyone could rival his greatness. 

 

However, the apparent respect and subtle fear for this Swaav character. Though he didn’t believe in wizards and magic, if it was something to earn this kind of respect, Xar was interested. He did recall seeing his name in the system, if only as a mention here and there. No profiles existed in the small amount of data. 

 

This was the kind of attention Xar desired. He would have to keep this Swaav character in mind.

 

“Yes, here it is…” Xar mentioned as he handed the register form back the Krexel. There was an obvious hint of pleasure from his three voice boxes. “It will be good to leave this dustbowl. Sea air does sound...lovely. Tell me, is it someplace more civilized than this edge of the galaxy? Perhaps the facilities of Kamino I've heard about? Or perhaps that poor watery excuse of a planet Manaan? Their Kolto is still used by some criminals as a substitute for Bacta. Or perhaps  the beaches and casinos of Spira is our new destination... ”

 

 Xar didn’t even wait for an answer, he just kept musing to himself where they may go. He was simply happy to be leaving this place. Still talking to himself, he walked towards the closest ship, expecting the two to correct him if he was going the wrong way.  

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Rruror’rur’rr smiled as their lips unlocked. “Roar Roar is fine. Together we will find your fighting spirit again. Sand People and your warrior people. Together - unstoppable.” He whispered as he turned to face the Black Sun representatives.

 

He glowered at the racial implications of the agents. One who claimed to be of his own. She did not know the first thing that it meant to be of the sands. “The sands forgive no one,” he growled as his eyes narrowed. “We will take our fight to the stars. It is time the galaxy learned of the fierceness that grew from the sands of this desolate world. While they grow fat in their opulence, we will fall upon them and teach them the truth. Give us a chance and we will carry your banner and our cause to the stars. Should we die, you lose nothing and prove that the stars was not ready for our untamed spirits. Should we survive, we prove our cause pure and your people succeed in their  deepest desires; our spirits conquering the cowards’ will.”

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Black Sun Outpost - Anchorhead

 

As the encrypted comm came across the wires, the Black Sun Outpost at Anchorhead picked it up. The Facilty it was trying to reach was technically cut off from the outside world, save for the viral feed that feed directly to the Anchorhead outpost where Tusker or Tu'can'ra was in command, but with her displacement at the moment, her second in command responded.

 

Attention TXV2849, redirect to Archorhead Outpost, bearing 0079-6432. Welcome Durose Roshan. Operative 6732 aka Dusk will be awaiting your arrival.

 

And with that, the transmission went silent.

 

Krexel & Co'bo

 

Krexel smiled as he tossed the datapad to an Operative, placing his arm upon Xar's shoulder as they made their way back to the ship, Co'bo quickly and silently in tow after grabbing his mission stash. Once aboard the freighter, the door closed, Krexel turned to Xar.

 

"It isn't often that we travel to another world for our shipments. We usually take what we need." The Pirate said with a gleeful smirk. "But we've been tasked with retrieving a batch of Blue Bacta, a spice so rare, that it tenfolds our usual take. And it just so happens to be on Mon Cal. That's our mission."

 

Even Co'bo smiled with glee, obliviously for other reasons, as he heard this, barely able to contain his excitement. One could already see the wheels in his head turning at the thought of the credits and the samples he could hoard entered his mind. So much so Krexel had to remind him that they were hired for this mission, not stealing it for themselves and he could not take any, evident in the younger Onderonian's visual heartbreak.

 

Tusker & Swaav

 

Tu'can'ra squinted her eyes at Rru as she turned back, or Roar Roar as he now called himself, with a glare that seemed like it could kill on mere sight. He had alot to learn of the Galaxy at large, and she was growing tired of trying to express this to him. He may have knew more of the Sands than she, an orphaned child of few memories before. But he was stepping into the world she knew, and that outlook would get him killed.

 

"The sands be damned." She spoke in frustration, her Tusken gaze shifting away as she brought her fingers to her snout and eased the tensive headache forming. "To be Black Sun isn't the Warrior's path. That isn't our path anymore. Do we kill? Yes, for the right price. But only to further our overall agenda. We leave the war to those meant to fight. And we profit from it. That is it."

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Dhonarr grins as the transmission comes back. The Black Sun were nothing if not prompt and reliable. Redirecting his YT-2400 to the new heading, the vessel coasts past the sand dunes of Tatooine towards the new destination.

 

"There is an intriguingly barren nature to this world, almost as if there are mysteries hidden underneath every grain of sand. Perhaps that is why the scum and villainy of the galaxy love it so much. It certainly can't be the sand or the view," Dhon finishes with a laugh.

 

Setting down the vessel within walking distance of the Anchorhead Black Sun Outpost, Dhon prepares to disembark.

"Now remember, 3000. If anyone comes a knockin', you are to alert me immediately. And if you can't reach me... hunker down and attempt to reach me every 5 minutes until I return or they leave."

"Master, where should I hunker down? And if I 'hunker down' how will I know when they have left?"

 

Dhon waves his hands around in frustration.

 

"I'm not supposed to do your job for you! You are a droid! Use your fancy computertry and figure it out."

 

"Mast--"

 

Dhon points at her forcefully, "And don't even start with me about 'computertry' not being a word or some nonsense. I'm not an idiot! I know what I mean. My basic is just a little rusty. It's been a while since... well... you know what I mean..."

 

"Master, perhaps it would be easier for you to explain it to me in Catharese?"

Dhon laughs, "Ha! And deprive myself of all this valuable practice?! Don't be silly, 3000. You just take care of ole' Flower's Gambit and I'll be back in no time."

"Flower's Gambit, Master?"

 

"Yeah. The Ship! Daisy's Gambit. Flower's Gambit--"

 

"Rose's Gambit?"

 

"See! You know what I mean," Dhon exclaims as he walks down the ramp. "I'll be back, 3000. Just sit tight."

 

Reaching the bottom of the ramp, Dhon lifts the Mandalorian helmet in the air and waves with it. Small particles of dust kick up into the air as the ships ramp begins to lift. Coughing a little, Dhon begins his short trek to meet his Black Sun contact. Geared up in his personally crafted chitin armor and with his Cathar Honor Sword propped up against his shoulder, the over-sized 6'8 Cathar looks imposing enough that he doesn't expect any bandits or raiders will attempt to jump him along the way.

"Well buddy, ole pal... it's showtime," he says as he wiggles his shoulders up and down a little.

 

Craning and cracking his neck to the left and then to the right, Dhon walks several more steps before pulling some grains of sand from between his beard and spitting at the breeze.

"Note to self," he mumbles as he nears his destination, "I'm setting up a betting pool that Operative Dusk is either a dark skinned Zabrak with an eating disorder or an undersized Jawa with a lisp. If I'm right, I treat myself to a night out when this is all over. If I'm wrong..."

Dhon pauses for a second to think about it. After a few more seconds, he shrugs.

"I don't know. I buy Dusk a drink or something. Watch him, her be something or someone who can't drink," he chuckles to himself as to approaches the coordinates and waits the arrival of the mysterious Operative Dusk. "If so, Urbax, I owe you a nice little polish. How about that? Deal?

Pausing for a second or two, he finally nods contently to himself.

"Deal!"

 

___

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Edited by Durose Roshan
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Xar paused when he heard the name Mon Cal. He had to pause a while and search his memory to find whatever he could about that planet. It was the homeworld to a bunch of water based species, including the Mon Calamari and the Quarren, two races who fought many civil wars. But one fact stood out…

 

“Mon Cal? That, purely oceanic world? Then you weren’t kidding about sea air. Hopefully, our chassis won’t suffer too much there…”

 

Indeed, his chassis was partially waterproof, in the sense that a rain shower wouldn’t kill him. But being dunked in an ocean probably would be….harmful to say the least. 

 

“I guess we will have to do our best not to fall out of any boats then.” 

 

Still, Xar was pleased at the choice of planet. From what he knew, he would soon be in a more pristine location, not filthy with dust and sand particles. He would be surrounded by modern conveniences, and not being burnt under multiple suns. His chassis’ paint color wad been slightly damaged. Maybe he could get a new paint color, or some new parts while they were on Mon Cal.  

 

So pleased in fact, Xar  even lowered himself to pilot the ship. He barely even asked permission to do so, simply saying “We shall drive” and went to the controls. While he was too proud to be some piloting droid for a few lowly humans, he reasoned that if he was driving, he could get off the planet sooner. While he started up the ship’s controls,  he watched Krexel instruct Co’bo to remember this was a mission and not a pleasure cruise. 

 

“Always the working man” Xar commented, before chirping up and saying “Well if this is a mission, let us get off this planet and complete it”.  

 

And with that, with the ship now humming with life and beginning to lift off the ground, Xar took the controls and led the ship into space. With a few clicks and pulls, the ship launched itself into hyperspace towards that small blue orb known as Mon Cal.

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Rruror’rur’rr shrugged his shoulders, the international symbol of whatever, I’m not wasting time arguing with you. Reaching down, he squeezed Rose’s hand in a gesture of care and reassurance before speaking to the Black Sun representative before them. “We are warriors. Like I said, put us to work doing what we do best. What have you to lose. Otherwise, we can find our own way amongst the stars. You helped us. We are willing to return that favor. Align our causes. It is your choice.”

 

 

Edited by Wyvernfall
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Operative Dusk

 

A cloaked figure steps out of the shadows of a nearby alley, removing the hood to reveal her almost silver white hair and eyes that was only eclipsed by her pale skin as she smirked with a subtle chuckled. "Looks like you owe me a drink, stranger."

 

"Operative Dusk at your service." She spoke, a heavy accent curling her words as she spoke them that would mimic real world spy movies from the 1950's and 1960's. "My name doesn't match, but it works. It was given to me due to how I shine beneath the moonlight... or at least part of it."

 

She chuckles again, although her eyes narrow in a serious gaze. "So they tell me that you're here to deliver the belongings of an operative. Which operative do you speak of?"

 

Tusker & Swaav

 

Swaav's arm stretches out and compresses against Tusker's chest, the older man's tone growing serious at his comrade's words of warning being completely ignored. With a subtle sigh, he stamps his cane upon the floor twice as a wave of energy rushes forth toward Roar Roar. Whether the Tusken avoids it or not matters little to him, but his simple display would only knock him off his feet and take his breath away. There was more than met the eye where Swaav was concerned and even Tu'can'ra knew well enough not to envoke his anger.

 

"The darkness you feel inside Tusken is wild and untamed. You hold no hope if you do not weild the advice of allies." Swaav spoke in likeliest the most serious tone he had since their arrival. "Your aid is welcome, but you would do well to accept our own. Your companion knows well exactly that of which I speak. If you do not believe us, simply ask the Blue Rose yourself."

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"Looks like you owe me a drink, stranger."

 

Dhon is a bit startled as the random woman reveals herself. He looks overs both of his shoulders before turning back towards her with a frown.

 

"And you are?"

 

"Operative Dusk at your service. My name doesn't match, but it works. It was given to me due to how I shine beneath the moonlight... or at least part of it."

 

Dhon mumbles under his breath in response, "Well, I don't know if I'd go that--"

 

"So they tell me that you're here to deliver the belongings of an operative. Which operative do you speak of?"

 

"Listen here, Twilight. First of all, for all I know, you are a tall Jawa with a lisp because well," he motions towards his mouth as he wiggles his index finger. "That definitely doesn't sound that proper basic and obviously you had a hood. So for all I know, you are what Jawas really look like under their hoods and you kick out the midgets of your kind to fend for themselves with their little midget part salvaging colonies...

 

Dhon pauses to think for a second before pulling at the braided hair on his chin, "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen-seen a Jawa. So I might be on to something. Funny thing, though. Get this. The operative I'm referring to was supposedly killed by a Jawa! Crazy coincidence, right!"

Dhon shruggles and raises the Mandalorian helmet and wiggles it a little in the air, "Didn't know we had a deep uncover operative working for the Mandalorians. This girl is crazy! Like seriously. But good at her job I take it? She's got this flower name. I keep forgetting it. Hold on a second..."

 

Dhon twists the helmet and looks on the back of the helmet where the former Watcher of the Link left a piece of tape and a name, "Rose Car-eye-Aye-dus. I think I'm pronouncing that right. I don't know what her fancy operative name is but I do have her agent ID number written down on a piece of paper if that helps any."

 

As he finally stops long enough to let the operative speak, Dhon stabs his honor sword into the ground and pulls a small slip of paper out of the utility belt around his waist and offers it to Dusk. The code Ro found and gave him was authentic as far as either of them could tell and it had led them this far, so Dhon is confident that offering the information might help clear up any further questions regarding who this "Rose" person might be.

 

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Edited by Durose Roshan
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Rose scrunched up her face as she thought about what the Black Sun tusken had just said, before getting knocked off her feet by whatever shenanigans the other agent had just pulled off. She pulled herself to her feet and helped Rruror’rur’rr back to his feet. Squeezing his hand in return. 

 

“Right. Uh yeah give us a mission, and some time for me to change into something other than a towel and were your personal vendetta squad or whatever you need.” 

 

She signed this out with her unoccupied hand as well of course, almost like a nervous tick. 

 

“Got hutts to kill or Jedi to assassinate? Seems like I may have been good at that.” 

 

She laughed and shook her head sadly. 

 

“But it's a bit hard to remember you know.”

ROSEOFCSHARON.png.1c839ef05c26256052b4d3a8e8030872.png

Behold the Rose of Sharon is burning in the valley 

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Rruror’rur’rr glowered at the Black Sub agents as he picked hinself back off the floor. A deep part of him clawed at his soul urging him to lash back. He was, however, not a raging bantha or hungering sand dragon, he would bide his time. They would be returned their favor in turn.

 

“Dragons and spirits.” He growled lowly to Rose, gesturing back towards the shower area she would have some semblance of privacy, and turning his back to Tu’can’ra and her magic wielding friend.  
 

The spirits swirled in Rruror’rur’rr’s mind pressing him. His obly response was to turn and look at Tu’can’ra and retort calmly, “Like she said, give us a mission. We either will fall or stand of our own ability. Load us on a metal beast and send us to the stars. Even there, the brothers shall protect and guide us.” 
 

And with that he followed Rose around the corner and out of sight where he set himself up to assure that she had her own privacy to dress in. 

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Operative Dusk

 

Dusk chuckled briefly behind her usual demeanor, raising her finger to her chin as she grinned. "My. You're a funny little kitty, aren't you?" She poised as she stood there, her mind racing across his words with her memories of whom he spoke. As her face turned stern, she replied to him. "I know of who you speak. She's recently return to our fold so to speak. I can take you to her.... if that is your wish?"

 

Her arm stretched out and she pointed toward an old beater of a speeder, dents formed all along its chassis, with different patterns and colors forming them together. "Its but a half a day's ride from here, over Tusken territory and across the Dune Sea." She smirked, opening her hand in offer. "Perhaps you'll get to see what a Jawa looks like if we meet any to trade with in our journey."

 

Tusker & Swaav

 

As the two departed, Swaav turned to Tu'can'ra with a worried look upon his face. "There is much darkness in the boy. Are you sure he can be an Agent?" He questioned the young Tusken, Tu'can'ra's own fixated upon the refresher they had disappeared within. "He has much to learn of the world outside, but he will. As for the darkness within, you know better than anyone the choice he will have to make Swaav." Her gaze shifted toward Swaav. "Or should I say Darth Oculus."

 

Swaav glared at Tu'can'ra for a moment, then back to the refresher himself, a grave look on his face. "I've warned you all about using that name. That's no longer who I am." He spoke sourly, almost as if he wanted to spit upon his own grave. "But I get your point. I only pray it doesn't cost him his love, like it did me." His gaze shifted toward Tusker again, and Tusker laid her head upon his shoulder as he embraced the young Tusken, draping his arm across across her shoulders. With a sorrowful smile, she replied. "I'm sure it won't. There is a strong spirit within her. She may not have her memory, but she still has her skills. If he crosses a path she's not willing to follow, she will remind him of it, Papa."

 

With that said, Tusker began to redress and shield her face behind her garb, memories of her childhood with Swaav and Helga sweetly crossing her mind as Swaav went back to his duties. 

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"My. You're a funny little kitty, aren't you?" 

 

Dhon straightens up a little at her comment, puffing out his chest to emphasize the full extent of his rather athletically, muscular 6’8 frame.

 

“I guess if it’s opposites day... so are you, Operative Sunrise,” he mutters briefly.

 

"I know of who you speak. She's recently return to our fold so to speak. I can take you to her.... if that is your wish?"

 

“That’s the mission. I clearly didn’t come all this way to admire the sand and exchange limericks,” Dhon responds with a little sarcasm in his tone.

 

 Pulling his Honor Sword from the ground with a firm yank, Dhon moves towards the speeder that the Black Sun operative points out.

 

"Its but a half a day's ride from here, over Tusken territory and across the Dune Sea."
 

“Hmph.”

"Perhaps you'll get to see what a Jawa looks like if we meet any to trade with in our journey."


Dhon finds himself rather amused by the thoughts that cross his mind as he climbs into the speeder. He barely manages to keep himself together long enough to reply. 

 

“Why? Do you plan to go find one of their midget colonies and taunt them by not trading the Jawas this diamond in the rough? From the looks of it, they might pay us not to trade them this buck of bolts and never return!”

Breaking into a fit of momentary laughter, he calms down long enough to add, “I’m ready to go when you are, Sunshine. But remind me... how many hours are in a Tatooine day?”

 

___

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Edited by Durose Roshan
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Operative Dusk

 

"Who do you think I got this gem from?" She spoke with a wink as she climbed into the speeder, firing it up as a plume of exhaust fell upon their forms, slightly encompassing them with soot. Placing her foot down upon the clutch and disengaging the drive, she shifted it from neutral into drive and chuckled. "And to answer your question, there are as many hours in the day as the twin suns decide to linger."

 

With that, Dusk hit the gas and they were off. Banthas could likely move faster than the speeder with Dusk behind the wheel as they made their way outside of Anchorhead, but once outside and facing nothing but the open sands, it zoomed faster than Rey Palpatine's backflip when she cut down Kylo's ship in the latter part of the First Order's reign. Dusk was a ferocious driver out upon the Sands, revealing her skills as a former Pod Racer even as they reached and began to cross the Dune Sea.

 

It did take long before they converged on the others location where Tusker and Swaav remained with Rru and Rose. After arriving and revealing the false plateau that hit the facility, Dusk bowed to Tusker and Swaav, presenting both the Cathar and his mission, as well as updating Tusker of Krexel and Co'bo's current mission. With a shift of Tusker's gaze at Swaav and Dusk, she smiled. There were only a few more pieces to come together and for 'him' to arrive.

 

Stepping forward to Dhon, Tu'can'ra bowed, the Tusken presenting an uncharacteristic mannerism of her kind as she spoke in basic. "Welcome. Rose will be out of the refresher in a few moments. So your mission was to return her armor?"

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The redressing took a lot longer than the undressing. Firstly the jumpsuit provided was not the proper size, perhaps being a size too big in the bust, and she had to pin the uniform back in place and the addition of a few straps to the armour chestpeice made it all fit a bit better. All the while of course she was under the protection of her Tusken angel, which gave her heart a bit of a flutter. Thinking that she must absolutely say something other than leaving an awkward silence she broke the stale air with a cheery voice. 

 

“So how are you?  I should apologize for not knowing you super well, despite our shared experiences. Please forgive my brain.” 

 

She grinned widely and finished tying up her boots. 

 

“So are we down to bathe in blood together for these criminals?”

 

It wasn't a judgement call, but credits were very nice to have if you wanted to forge a destiny together. 

ROSEOFCSHARON.png.1c839ef05c26256052b4d3a8e8030872.png

Behold the Rose of Sharon is burning in the valley 

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Rruror’rur’rr stood with his back towards the naked Rose. He smiled as she spoke.

 

“it is nothing to apologize for Rose. To be honest, I am not sure how well we know each other. You have died. I died and watched you die. The will of the ancestors has brought us back together. Together we stepped out of time, battled a dragon, and spirits from beyond. Our lives crossed for but a brief passage of time. In that time though,”  he twisted his gloved hands together tight enough that the course black fabric creaked between his palms, “we were bound together. You taught me so much. Our kiss mingled our souls.”

 

As Rose finished dressing, Rruror’rur’rr turned to face her and held out a hand to her. If they were going to serve the Black Sun they might as well walk into their fate together, hand in hand.

 

There was so much he wanted to ask her; who she was, about her people, where she came from, everything. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to show her the ways of his people and to travel the stars bound together. They would fight whatever stood in their way.

 

“Lets spill the blood of any who stand in our way. We can serve their cause and be together again.”

 

”Do you have everything you need?” Rruror’rur’rr asked as they walked through the facility, pausing near an unsecured, albeit small, armory. Inside, he had spotted an aged Tusken cycler in a black metal hue. It was almost as if it was meant to be. Letting go of Rose’ hand Rruror’rur’rr reached out gingerly taking the weapon and cradling it in his arms. Looking from the weapon to Rose, his smile was audible, “With this, I will stand by you and rain down terror on all that oppose us.”

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"Who do you think I got this gem from?"

 

Dhon mumbles under his breath, “Well, it sure ain't the Black Sun with as deep as their pockets are.”

 

"And to answer your question, there are as many hours in the day as the twin suns decide to linger."

 

Dhon looks over his shoulder at the surroundings around him, then above him to his left and his right. He then stares back at Operative Dusk.

 

“Nope. Still not seeing the memo about opposites day. I’m glad they sent me Operative Helpful to answer all my questions. At this point, for all I know... you don’t even work for the Black Sun. I’m being kidnapped and sold to some Tusken raider camp or something. I was reading some pretty crazy stories about that on my way here. People disappearing in the desert. Tusken Raiders paying big money for the flesh of exotic aliens. They are all cannibals, right? How much they pay for someone my size? These muscles aren't nearly as tasty as the more fatty types,” Dhon uttered rhetorically as he took in the sights around him.

 

He only asked the questions half-jokingly. From all the rumors he gathered in preparation for the trip, Tusken Raiders were known for their improprieties, evil nature, and banditry. They were the boogeymen of the desert. He wouldn’t be shocked if they had couriers intercepting Black Sun and other communications.

 

“A sucker is born every minute,” Dhon mumbled to himself.

 

As they began to pick up pace, Dhon moved his arm to shelter his nose and mouth. He had little interest in consuming sand or getting more in his fur than absolutely necessary. It was a dry heat, at least. He liked the dry heat. It reminded him of “home.”

 

After seemingly ages, they finally arrived at their destination. It was a secret base, befitting a Black Sun facility or a Tusken Raider staging camp.

 

“Sneeze in my pudding and call it Palpatine! Next you are going to tell me that Rose is right inside them doors, huh, Sunshine,” Dhon whistles as they approach what looks like a Tusken Raider. 

 

Holding his grip tightly around the Honor Sword resting against his chitin breastplate, he let Dusk (if that was really her “operative name”) do the talking and the introductions. He stood back a ways, judging his surroundings and his odds.

 

“If you sent me into a trap, Ro... I swear I’m going to kill you,” Dhon grumbled under his breath a little anxiously.

 

After Dusk was done, the Tusken "leader" turns her attention to Dhon. As the Tusken approaches and speaks, Dhon glances at Operative Dusk out of the side of his eye.

 

"Welcome. Rose will be out of the refresher in a few moments. So your mission was to return her armor?"

 

“Heh,” He laughs casually, “Let me guess. And you’d like for me to follow you to wait inside to the next room that happens to be full of a bunch of your friendly Tusken buddies... while we ‘wait’ for ‘Rose’ to return from the refresher? If it’s fine by you, I’ll wait here with Operative Sunshine for the blue flower peddle lady to get done doing whatever she’s supposedly doing.”

 

Glancing around at the collection of characters assembled, Dhon takes a step back and makes a sweeping gesture with the hand holding Rose’s helmet, “But by all means. Don’t mind me. Feel free to carry on with whatever it is a camp of Black Sun Tusken Raiders and friends normally goes about doing. I'll be right here. I’m sure she will only be a moment.”

 

Dhon calmly winks at basic-speaking Tusken, but the grip on his weapon tightens ever so slowly. If they are looking to eat him, torture him, or skin him alive, they won’t be getting this meal without a fight.

 

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The aging Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.

 

The most unmistakable of these three was an immense, echoing quiet, made by the things that were lacking. If there had been a sandstorm, winds and the hail of grit would have beaten upon the wooden slats of the inn, marching incessantly through the hollow spaces.. If there had been refugees huddled within the walls, the air would have been heavy with shrill laughter, of feet shuffling nervously upon the heavy planks which sharply designed the floor, of the calm, reassuring tones of an innkeeper. If there had been music, the swell of melodies that twisted together to ease the mind, but of course there was no song. In fact, there were none of those things, and so the silence was the only thing that lived here.

 

Inside the rickety establishment a man stood before the large hearth, staring into the unlit logs piled within. His contemplation was languid, the only movement being the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and the infrequent blinking of eyes. Oxygen filled him awkwardly, a pleasantry that was rare from where he had spent his years, the wicked wilds. He breathed deeply, sparing no quarter to the refreshing luxury. In doing this he naturally added his quiet, to the dismal silence, the larger echoing one that consumed this place. They made a composite of sorts, a strange contrast.

 

The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened hard enough you might feel it in the cold of the barren fireplace and the shutters drawn across the windows. It was in the panel of iron-black wood hanging above the bar, and the two swords which was mounted to it cross-ways. And it was in the hands of the man who stood before the soot-stained bricks, motionless, hands balled into tight fists. The man had true-Prussian blue hair, as cold as flame. His eyes were dark and distant, and he stood with the determined air of one who has recently reconciled with difficult truths. The inn was his for the moment, just as the third silence was. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, ensnaring the others within itself. It was as deep and wide as plains of sand that filled this barren world. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who was waiting to die.
 

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Tusker, Swaav, Operative Dusk

 

Tu'can'ra chuckles briefly, turning to nod at Swaav before the Elder blind man walked off, leaving Dhon, herself, and Operative Dusk standing there in waiting. Staring at his blade, she bows her head again, and speaks plainly from behind the mask that hid her face. "As you wish. Swaav will retrieve the Mandalorian. Feel free to take a seat until she arrives."

 

That said, she motions her hand toward an offset bench near the refresher area and turned to walk away with Dusk as their forms disappear into the darkened area and out of the ill-lit blue of the cloning tanks littering the room. Dusk had other preparations to make. And when Tu'can'ra returned, she took a seat upon the bench herself. "Tell me about yourself?"

 

Meanwhile Swaav had located Rru and Rose. "Take the weapon if you wish, Tusken, but remember my warning." He spoke in heed, his blind gaze shifting toward Rose beside him. "There is a Cathar here requesting your presence Blue Rose. He holds your helm in his hands." With that, he went to turn away but spoke one last time before he returned to his duties. "The Master is on his way."

 

Operative Draven

 

Silence was a bittersweet experience, both calming and lonesome. But few rather held a taste for both. Draven was one of those few. The Sands of Tatooine presented it perfectly, especially for a seasoned Veteran like himself, his feet pressing deep into the softness of its pressure with each step. Just ahead laid his destination, a small outcropping settlement long abandoned for the larger established where safety ran in numbers.

 

The wind howled through the small openings and crevices that littered the crumbling buildings, and as he stepped up to the one that once played its Central piece, he coughed beneath his helmet and dusted the sand off his armor before he reached slowly for the pad. With a press of his hand, the door hissed open and revealed the darkness lingering within, soon enveloping his form as he stepped within.

 

Within were the hauntings of its glory days, a small bar against it's back wall, a stage to the left where music and song once played. Dusted tables laid half buried beneath the sand that attempted to reclaim it for its history, and to the right stood a darkened form standing before a ghostly fire that no longer burned brightly. With a small chuckle, Draven stepped up beside the man, his hand offering up a gift, a familiar .48 caliber slug pistol forged of ultrachrome and its grip set with the ivory Mythosaur bone, a beautiful piece to say the least. 

 

Once it was accepted, Draven rubbed his gloved hands together and breathed deeply into them despite the lack of a burning fire as he chuckled briefly before ending the solemn silence with his deep toned words, the tone of a Mandalorian echoing beneath his helm. "The days of old are but distant memories. And the future calls whether we wish to hear it or not. Are you ready to answer his call?"

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The aesthetic weapon found place inside of his hand, and as Aurion scrutinized the trimmings, the estranged craftsmanship, he snarled a soft chuckle. "Moreillian," he said to no one in particular. His voice was raspy, hardened with the strain of survival, but wet with the black oils that seeped from his chest. The .48 caliber Slug Pistol was indeed, a familiar piece. His people had charted such weapons, such designs, much before he had become what he was. The weapon of the Moreillian Enforcers. This taste of history, was welcoming, more endearing than the strips of wood that lay without flame to heat these walls. Reaper, as they knew him, holstered the bone-carved weapon into a pouch buried inside his Moreillian oilcoat. The black knee-length duster flowed loosely across the grey-aureate plates of armor he garnished. He dipped low and adjusted the small knife in his leather boots, before returning to his full standing posture, settling the hilt of another blade tied to his back. 

 

 

"Tch," He turned and nodded, acknowledging the Mandalorian yet ignoring the question altogether. "Who are we killing this time?"

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Operative Draven

 

Draven removed his helm and placed it under his left arm, the large Mandalorian stooping down and igniting the logs with his flame, a few moments of the large roaring from the canister rekindling the flames that were once extinguished. Grabbing the pit's nearby poker, he began stirring it, and heat slowly returned to the room, symbolically returning life to a once death Inn. Draven rose, a smile upon his face as he gazed at his compatriot.

 

"Hutts." He spoke, his memory returning of how little Reaper spoke, even on a good day. "Tomorrow we storm their Palace and claim it as our own."

 

As the coils over the pit began to glow a bright red, Draven reached into his satchel and placed a large cut of meat, large enough that both could eat and leave behind for the planet's natural scavengers to feast and offered up a bottle of fine whiskey to him. Twofold turns of the meat with his knife, he stabbed it and offered half. "Krayt?

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Dhon taps his foot. He didn't like the prospects of waiting.

 

"As you wish. Swaav will retrieve the Mandalorian. Feel free to take a seat until she arrives."

 

"Thanks, doll, but I'll stand."

 

After the two leave, Dhon shakes his head. More waiting from the looks of it.

 

"Last time I do one of these stupid errands for the Watcherman. That clone is clearly defective."

 

Dhon laughs to himself as little as an image suddenly flashes across his mind, "But oh that boy. Googly eyed and all sad and stuff like they were stuck in some tragic holovid soap opera!"

 

Needless to say, Dhon had hacked into Rose's helmet on his way to Tatooine and watch the footage of the two, despite seemingly promising Ro that he would not. After all, how else will he recognize her when he sees her in person? Of course, what he had found was a treasure trove of entertainment and with the impending arrival of this woman so close at hand and no one else around, Dhon can't help but entertain himself a little while he waits. Mimicking their voices in almost a mocking manner, he retells his favorite scene for his own amusement.

 

"'Oh no! Help me! I'm a giant having a panic attack!'"

 

"'No! Don't panic! I am clone, too, Roar roar! You don't have to be alone! We can be clone lovers!'"

 

"'Wow. We share so much in common now that we are both defective! Let's run off and become Jedi!'"

 

"'Yay! I can't think of a better group for two defective people to join! We'll be shoe-ins for sure!'"

 

Dhon slaps his knee, he's laughing so hard.

 

"Man, oh man."

 

Clearing his throat, he takes a deep breath before continuing to nervously tap his foot. When the Tusken returned, Dhon is almost in the same exact spot still tapping his foot. If Rose is really here, this Rose lady was testing his patience.  All the same, the Tusken "woman" takes a seat upon a nearby bench as she tries to start up friendly conversation.

 

"Tell me about yourself?"

"Well, what would you like to know? Worked for the Black Sun in a manner of speaking. Retired in a way of looking at it. Spent a bunch of years back on Cathar. My mom-ish more or less didn't want or need me to watch over her anymore. So I spent some years in the savannas and wilds of Cathar. Killed more than my fair share of bugs and wildlife. Build this fancy custom chitin armor. Learned a few extra survival trades. Got called up to the big leagues to deliver a helmet. And now realized after meeting a Tusken Raider in person for the first time that you guys looks like those cloth dolls that poor children make because they can't afford the real thing. No offense, of course," Dhon adds as he continues to jabber away. "Fashion is one of those subjective things. And I see how that could be intimidating and mistaken for the boogeyman. Like a bunch of moisture farmers are on their way home and they look off in the distance and are like, 'Holy force biscuits! Molly's cloth dolls are robbing the house again! Let's get outta here!'"

Dhon pauses to laugh a little bit at the visual image.

 

"What I wouldn't give to by a fly on that X-34. But yeah. What about you? Got any good raiding stories from your time as a Tusken Raider?"

 

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T E E T H

 

 

The flame came alive, casting away the shadows that covered the exhaustion worn on his face. His appearance wore the wear of time and battle, whether he realized this or not. His grey eyes seemed more sunken than usual, drearily set across a face that was pristine by any aesthetically charged standard.  Contrarily, the dark blue pigment of his Prussian blue  lengths of hair never, in any time of battle or rest, lost its luster. His features, his killings, and his vocation was what brought forth the many names he was hailed under. Yet here and now, the Reaper seemed abridged. 

 

"War with those slags?! Are we not at war with ourselves still?"

 

The question was nearly spit, rhetorical of course, for he knew that there were many unsettled by the falling out of Black Sun. Such seeds of discord were not so easily brushed aside. Of course, Reaper had been assigned to the uncharted lands, the harshest of them never seen by the eye of man or woman before. The beauties, the unparalleled horrors, sometimes packaged together as one and the same; he lived among them, clung to rock for sleep and rapid tides for safety, burrowing in lands that chewed him up and spit him out whenever it had the chance. The Unknown Regions had made him harder for it, detached from the falling out of men and machine within the syndicate. 'Damarius' took part in the offering of the Krayt, sniffing the medium-rare meat, before tearing it apart with sharp teeth. One of his front canines flashed gold, both wolf-like and luxurious as he chewed into the offering. The Moreillians knew him as more beast than man anyhow, and as his voyages continued to eat at his humanity, that is what he became. 

 

"Well, I am home now Draven. Let's not keep the others waiting."

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Rose let the grin on her face set to a amiable smile and took her vibroblade from the belt that was snugging down her oversized uniform. She hefted it for a moment as she walked towards the refresher’s large plate mirrors and glared hard at herself. Pale sallow skin that had not seen UV in ages, and far too long hair. She ticked her head to the side and gathered up her hair into her fist, letting a long tangle of it hang down to her belt. She scrunched up her face and measured by sight as she flicked the switch on the handle of the knife. 

 

“Measure once, twice, thrice, then slash eh?” 

 

She laughed and sliced away at the hair with a nimble and deft attack. Cutting long strands away until she looked almost normal. Hair only down to her shoulders, even it was a bit ragged. She considered doing something about bangs, but decided firmly against it. Instead pulling her remaining hair into a short tail at the top of her head, held in place by one of the metrielastine bands that had been included in her clothing's package. She grimaced at her face again before turning back to Rruror’rur’rr. 

 

She mockingly saluted and then grabbed him into a fierce hug. Her voice soft in his ear. 

 

“Then let us find enemies to defeat and honour to take.” She smiled at the old weapon in his arms and giggled. “I should get an old slugthrower too, perhaps after this mission.” The weapons seemed so elegant compared to a blaster rifle. There was something so very interesting in using an ancient weapon to kill someone. She took his hand and led him out the door of the refresher and stopped dead in her tracks. 

 

There was something familiar in the newest person that had arrived, but she couldn’t place it, and she couldn’t smell him to make sure of it. Instead she inclined her head respectively to the audience and Dhon  and looked to the host. 

 

“We are ready if you are. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Then turned her eyes back to the large Cathar. Who was he?

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Behold the Rose of Sharon is burning in the valley 

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R3-M0

 

A small ship arrives in Anchorhead's port unrecognized as it spins around and softly sets down. Passerbys rarely make note of it, and Anchorhead's Security Forces barely acknowledge it outside the ship's minuscule ID transponder codes. Yet, the being aboard was larger than they could even fathom, the harbinger of villainy that was about to rock their entire world. And as the ship's ramp fell upon its surface, quakes shook upon the other side of Tatooine. The small R3 unit known commonly as Remo rolled down its ramp, Zepex in tow.

 

Comms across the underbelly of Tatooine began to light up with chatter, so loudly that if local law enforcement had even attempted to intercept any of them, their units would explode or short circuit from the sheer volume. But Remo and Zepex went about as if nothing was out of the ordinary, their goal just outside of town upon a ridge overlooking the entirety of Anchorhead. And in a few hours, they would arrive, and following, Operation Anchorage.

 

Swaav, Tu'can'ra, Dusk

 

Tu'can'ra chuckled briefly at Dhon, her smile concealed by the helm that covered her face. "You are quite the character. It's a shame we have to eat you now." Tu'can'ra let her words linger for an awkward moment before bursting into a small fit of laughter just as Rose and Rru stepped out from the refresher. "Ah. Here they are now." She stood and swayed her hand in their direction. "Rose, this Cathar here has been tasked with returning a piece of your armor."

 

Yet, before she could truly finish, Dusk strolled up and whispered into her ear, the strange Swaav lously heard down the hall laughing and what sounded like dancing. With a smile Tusker spoke to the group in its entirety. "The Master has returned. He is here, on Tatooine, with his first act as Head. He calls us to Anchorhead." Her gaze shifts to Dhon. "And you, Cathar, are welcomed to join us if you wish.... No jokes this time. She finished with a smile as she thought to herself. She could truly enjoy his odd sense of humor if he could stand hers.

 

Draven

 

"Yes, Vigo." The Mandalorian replied as he licked his own fingers clean of the meat he still chew upon with an unusual admiration. Swallowing the last bite, he adorn his helm once again and began to make his way outside, summoning his ship by nature when a encrypted comm came across and forced a smile upon his face. He gaze shifted back to Reaper. 

 

"He's arrived. Remo is in Anchorhead." Draven spoke as his ship touched down just outside the door. With a new found spirit, Draven sprinted toward his ship and up the ramp. While he awaited Reaper, he checked his weaponry with lust, knowing that war was just around the corner. When Reaper would board, they would be on their way.

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"You are quite the character. It's a shame we have to eat you now." 

 

The tapping of Dhonarr’s foot stops. Eyeing the Tusken Raider skeptically, Dhon responds, ever ready for a fight.

 

“I’ve heard all the stories about you Raiders, doll. The trading in exotic aliens. The cannibalism. The raiding people with harrowing stick weapons. I did my homework. But quite frankly, after meeting one in person I think I can take you. I’ve taken out entire Kiltik nests! Yes. Plural! Trust me. I wouldn’t be worth the meal. My combat training plus these muscles would be stringy and all the fur would get in your mouth and--”

 

Interrupting him with her sudden outburst of laughter, Dhon gets the sneaky suspicion that the Tusken is either toying with him or is now trying to play off her comments after realizing that the risks of attacking him well outweighed the reward. And Dhon didn't need to be able to read her facial expressions to know that her laughter was probably due to the latter. Once the fearful realization of his combat prowess set in, such nervous laughter was almost inevitability really. After all, he’d solo’d multiple Kiltik queens and had a full suit of the custom chitin armor to prove it! 

 

He didn’t blame her, though. Greater men and bugkin alike had caved and cowered in fear when facing the mighty Dhonarr. And if he is being honest, even he would have been scared of himself, too, especially if he was a tiny ragdoll looking creature in a gas mask unknowingly threatening a giant professional feller of Kiltiks!

 

Dhon grins proudly to himself and stands a little taller as the Tusken’s laughter begins to dissipate. But their moment is quickly interrupted by a pair of new arrivals. Another of the ragdoll bandits and the woman of the hour. She didn’t look totally like she had in the recordings but she is most certainly the blue flower peddle girl Dhon came her for.

 

 "Ah. Here they are now."

 

“We are ready if you are. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

 

"Rose, this Cathar here has been tasked with returning a piece of your armor."

 

The Tusken woman confirms it but the moment Rose first spoke, any potential doubts quickly evaporated. This is most definitely her. Dhon excitingly finds his mission mere seconds from being completed. 

 

Muttering to himself, he grins, “All I have to do now is--”

 

Que Operative Sunshine and the whatever that is coming from down the hall. Yet another interruption to spoil his moment of triumph.

 

“It is surprising they ever get anything accomplished,” Dhon grumbles to himself, “What...with all these interrupts and disorganized--”

 

"The Master has returned," Tusker beams. "He is here, on Tatooine, with his first act as Head. He calls us to Anchorhead."

 

Dhon laughs for a moment, "As Head. Anchorhead. Hahahaha! Nice one, doll. You are getting wittier with your wordplay. Well done."

 

But as the totality of Tusker's words actually set in, Dhon’s face immediately shifts to one of annoyance and slight irritation.

 

"And you, Cathar, are welcomed to join us if you wish.... No jokes this time.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait. So you are telling me Operative Sunshine made me ride out to the middle of nowhere during the hottest part of the day in a dilapidated deathtrap of a speeder to meet Rose... who would be coming to Anchorhead all along, with everyone else, anyways?!”

 

Dhon shakes his head and squints his eyes at Operative Dusk, “If you were that starved for the company of a refined gentleman and storyteller such as myself, we could have just had a drink at the bar and waited. I’m sure this entire operation wouldn’t have fallen apart without you.”

 

Pausing to look around at the motley crew and for the source of the maniacal laughter and crazy person dancing from only moments before, Dhon sighs.

 

“On second thought...” Dhon begins as he tosses the helmet over to Rose, “Catch, girlie. Don’t say Uncle Dhonarr never did anything for you. Special delivery from the regal Roar Roar Roshan himself.”

 

Dhon barely manages to keep a straight face before turning to look back in Tusker’s direction, “As for the offer. I appreciate it. I really do. And I’m at least stuck with yall until Anchorhead ‘cuz Sunshine here is my ride. But I'm a free agent now! Can't say that I've been that for a long time! I was thinking about exploring my options in my fancy new spaceship Rose got me..." Dhon clears his throat to politely add, "if it’s all the same to yall, of course. So much universe to explore and so many paydays to be made!”
 

As he concludes, Dhon rubs the fingers of his free hand together and grins. He is finally free at last!

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Operation Archorage Part I

 

Anchorhead, a place some would call the captial city of Tatooine, others the capital den of scum and villainy. For Remo, it was so much more. As the droid stop atop the ridge, Zepex beside him, his calculations were infinite. Tatooine could be so much more than a backwater desert planet, it could more than a mere den of pirates, smugglers, assassins and their ilk. And his vision, albeit incorporating it into it, Tatooine could be the capital of the rising Black Sun from the ashes of it's old former. And that was just his absolute intent.

 

Hearing the roaring of machines coming from behind, R3-M0 turned to great those whom have held true to their oaths and creeds, the select few whom still held honor among thieves, the faithful. As Dusk, Draven, Tusker, and Swaav poured out into the setting twin Suns, Remo saw faces anew and old alike gathering before him, the singular shared newfound purpose glimmering in their eyes.

 

Zepex stepped forward as Remo's translator, first offering a friendly hello to the only Vigo present @Skarr before turning to Tusker, Dusk, Draven, and Swaav. "Master Remo thanks you all for both your trust and your patience during these trying times, especially after the loss of Dark Sun and the betrayal of Delta - Seven Three." His gaze shifts between the five current members, letting Remo's words be heard despite the R3 unit's incapability to be truly heard outside binary coding. "But Master Remo does not wish to dwell upon the past either, instead focus on rising from the ashes left in the previous's wake. Forget the past of warriors, forget the past of militias. For here on out, we return to our roots as Assassins, Smugglers, Pirates, Criminals...."

 

Remo rolls forward past the five members of Black Sun that he recognizes and gazes upon @Rose Cariadus, @Wyvernfall and @Durose Roshan, inquisitive about their potential, especially the one he recognizes as Mandalorian. With a few bleeps from his form, Zepex translates it to their "Welcome." before Remo returns to the front. His photocepter glowing a vibrant red against his green and white form, it was time to get serious.

 

As Remo's binary voice begins, Zepex is quick to translate. "Now for the reason you've all been summoned. Anchorhead has a lot of history, especially among the Hutts. It's been theirs for as long as they have held a presence upon Tatooine." Remo's gaze shifts to @Wyvernfall. "But now is the time to claim it for ourselves. There is rumor of a known Associate of the Hutts here in Archorhead, a Krem Dor'phan who often rendezvous with a childhood friend, Oshan Cremp, outside the Hutt's Palace. Find and follow this Krem Dor'phan until he leads us to Oshan Cremp. Once we capture Oshan, Krem is expendable. But Oshan needs to be taken back to Mos Espa alive. It's the only way we can attain the codes to and the whereabouts of the Palace's underground entrances. Any questions?"

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Rruror’rur’rr did not voice much opinion as he was herded along with the others. Frankly, he was watching Rose for cues; the whole thing was just so foreign. Approaching the crest, Rruror’rur’rr’s eyes fell on the droid that began to speak and inwardly, he despised it. He had not come this far to serve an abomination. Before he could voice his concern to Rose though, the droid had addressed them and stared at Rruror’rur’rr. ‘Perhaps he knows . . .’

 

The Hutts had, like all interlopers and offworlders come uninvited to their world. At least they tended towards leaving Rruror’rur’rr’s people alone. Still, if this abomination was determined to drive the slugs from the planet along with their entourage, Rruror’rur’rr would gladly take part. After all, desert surveillance and tracking were a Tusken specialty. Looking around the group, Rruror’rur’rr worries. With such a ragtag team, their quarry could easily detect them and escape. ‘Perhaps this droid was not so smart as it thought it was.’

 

Nudging Rose, he whispered, “I know of this palace. It is a stronghold of those who seek to use our land to hide.” Then raising his voice and waving a hand to catch the attention of the leaders, “My people know the area well. I have gazed undetected on the stronghold countless times. Would it not be prudent to send a small trained group,” he shot a glance in the direction of the pretend tusken and her blind comrade, “after the targets, so as not to accidentally alert them? I am sure Rose and I and,” he gestures towards the Cathar standing by he and Rose,  “the predator, could easily fetch your prey without giving away your plans.” 

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With all the excitement and commotion surrounding the arrival of this “Remo” guy, Dhon honestly couldn’t resist the curiosity of actually meeting him in person. 

 

“I guess I’ll tag along, Miss Sunshine,” Dhon smirks as he get into the landspeeder. “After all, I still owe you a Tatooine Sunset. I make good on my debts. I’m a Cathar of my word.”

 

Thankfully, the ride back is mostly uneventful. Long but uneventful.

 

Back in town, Anchorhead looks mostly like it had when they left it. It is a little less busy and slightly tinted a mixture of purple and orange with the setting of Tatooine’s twin suns, but otherwise, the only real change is the introduction of the new contact. The Black Sun Vigo greets them upon their arrival.

 

"Master Remo thanks you all for both your trust and your patience during these trying times, especially after the loss of Dark Sun and the betrayal of Delta - Seven Three." 

 

Dhon leans towards Operative Dusk a little as he whispers poorly, “Who or what is Dark Sun and Delta - Seven Three?”

 

"But Master Remo does not wish to dwell upon the past either, instead focus on rising from the ashes left in the previous's wake. Forget the past of warriors, forget the past of militias. For here on out, we return to our roots as Assassins, Smugglers, Pirates, Criminals...."

As the droid rolls up and “looks at” Dhonarr of Cathar, Dhon raises an eyebrow at it. He figures it must be assigned to scan him or run his profile or something. As it moved away, the Cathar mumbles to the others beside him.

 

“This whole thing is odd enough as it is without the presence of a random R2 or R3 or whatever this unit is running around scanning us, am I right?”

 

"Now for the reason you've all been summoned. Anchorhead -- claim it for ourselves. -- Find and follow this Krem Dor'phan -- to Oshan Cremp. -- But Oshan needs to be taken back to Mos Espa alive. It's the only way we can attain the codes to and the whereabouts of the Palace's underground entrances. Any questions?"

 

Dhon frowns a little. The droid anxiously beeping in the background is making it annoyingly hard to pay attention to what the alien Vigo is saying. Dhon has a feeling, nevertheless, that he had been able to gather most most important details at least.

 

“Stalk, snatch, and grab,” he mumbles to himself. “Sounds easy enough.”

 

Any further comments are abruptly cut off, however, when the Tusken with them speaks up. Dhon turns to listen.

 

“My people know the area well. I have gazed undetected on the stronghold countless times. Would it not be prudent to send a small trained group, after the targets, so as not to accidentally alert them? I am sure Rose and I and, the predator, could easily fetch your prey without giving away your plans.” 

 

Dhon grins, “The Predator. I like it. Dhonarr the Predatarr. Heh heh heh.”

 

Turning towards the Vigo, he adds, “I think the Ragdoll Bandit has a point. He, me, and Miss Mandalorian could probably handle this ourselves. Sounds easy enough. And I’ve seen her fight! Plus, raiding and kidnapping shouldn’t be much different for RB. And my ‘speciality is tracking being that I’ve spent so much time in the wilderness of Cathar. It’s not quite dunes, but there’s plenty of savannas and some more desert-y areas. All I’m wanting to know is what kinda pay are we talking about?" 

 

Dhon pauses for a split second and his eyes come to rest on Rose and nods his head in her direction, “If her bank account is any indication, you all pay pretty well. And I happen to be fresh out of work and light on money. Plus, it sounds like these little people you have us chasing are worth a little something. And if it’s only us it's a three way split, so we are saving you money in the long run. I’m just sayin’. Show us the money and it's a done deal, your magnificence.”

 

___
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Edited by Durose Roshan
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Remo begins to chuckle quite hilariously in binary as Zepex chuckles rather awkwardly behind his Master in response to the Tusken's words. So much so, that Zepex briefly worries that Remo may have fried a circuit and goes to check the small R3 unit only to be brushed away. As Remo begins speaking in return, Zepex translates.

 

"Master Remo questions if you mean the old Hutt Palace that sits destroyed upon the cliffs? Zepex briefly inquires, allowing a brief moment of response before Remo begins speaking again. "No. That is a farce. The real Palace lays beneath Anchorhead itself, long ago constructed by Dordjooba the Hutt himself, last of the noble Hutt Houses to grab hold of Tatooine. Now its merely under the control of the Hutt Cartel by way of a lesser Hutt."

 

Remo looks at Zepex who looks at his Master in return before both gaze at the beings before them. 

 

"Master R3-M0 doesn't care how you go about tracking and acquiring the intel, only that it's done and Oshen Cremp is brought to Mos Espa alive for the extraction... There's a shiver in Zepex's voice as he translates the final part. "... So that Remo can extract the Intel himself."

 

With that said, Zepex steps aside and Remo stares at the Cathar with only what could be described as a smile in his photoreceptor eye, an eerily long beep followed by a boop with no telling what was being processed through his tiny mainframe.

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