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Mos Eisley - Tatooine


Tarrian Skywalker
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Within seconds, Cathair heard the batteries and electronic parts in his blasters deplete and fry. Cursing out loud, he dropped his E-19 to the ground and faced the bartender. Briskly walking towards the bar, the Imperial Lieutenant slapped his blaster pistol on the bar and jerked his helmet off.

 

"How dare you activate an EMP on Imperial soldiers. We did not come in here to shoot up your bar or cause any problems with you. We received word that a known terrorist and fugitive was last seen in your bar and we came here to take him into custody."

 

Gesturing to his brothers-in-arms, they quickly maneuvered into position to physically attack the targets in the backyard. Cathair knew that with their weapons useless, they were no match for the Jedi Master about to burst upon them.

 

"Now, to my superiors, you would just have committed an attack against the soldiers of the Empire. They would have no regrets about bombing this establishment from orbit, destroying it, and most of this city. And I am sure, if you or any loved ones you care about decide to flee by starship, you will be shot from the sky."

 

Allowing this knowledge to sink into the bartenders head, Cathair straightened up.

 

"Now I have no problem allowing this to slide. Not a word will be mentioned by me or my men. Just give us the Jedi Master and no report on this....incident...will be filed."

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Service. Fealty. Fidelity The Empire is the greatest Glory! We seek to protect the Empire. Unshakable is our devotion to the Empire. To Die for the Empire is the highest of honors!

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(OOC: Previous Post)

 

She looked at him waiting for his next move, his mind already calculating the scenarios and possible outcomes. The individuals in the bar didn't give him much time to think at all, he could sense them ready to move into position moments later. He returned her gaze, putting his helmet back atop his head, then spoke through the metallic voice.

 

”œGet to the ship, I will meet you there. If I'm not there within 5 minutes, pick me up rooftop.”

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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My fingers danced over the control panel as I navigated the sleek ship towards Tatooine. The ship dropped with a gentle glide towards the surface and I only had to make slight adjustments to ensure a safe landing. I picked an obscure spot, or at least what one could consider obscure for a planet like Tatooine.. It was easy enough for me to dodge the never-ending traffic and set the ship down on an empty landing spot. I didn't kill the engines but merely set them on minimal power, as well as my ship's other systems. However, my security systems were set to maximum capacity; I take no chances with my ship.

I stepped off the pilot's chair and picked up my DXR6. I ran a thorough weapons check on it and did the same for my sidearm, the DT-57. I glanced over at the flechette launcher resting in it's place on a gun rack. I walked over and picked it up, deciding to heir on the side of caution. With flechette slung over my back, I returned to my chair and ran a comms scan, hoping to pick up the frequency of any open comm.

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Each man in Cathairs squad had known they would be at a disadvantage going into this fight. But they all expected to have their weapons to even things out a bit. But now they were left weaponless. The electronic chips inside their weapons were fried, making them about as effective as a large rock. As well, the micro circuits that gave their armor and uniforms their advantage over the Rebels in battle were gone as well. Knowing the helmets would only get in the way of hand to hand combat, Cathair motioned for the men to remove them. He knew this made them far more vulnerable to any enemy fire, he hoped that the former Jedi Master still retained some of his honor and would not introduce fire-arms.

 

Wiping away a small bead of sweat from his brow, Cathair turned to his men and with a nod, all nine men made their way out the back door into the yard. Hopefully by putting them all closer, the numerical advantage would work stronger in their favor. Sliding his combat pistol back into its holster, Cathair was the last man out of the door. He could feel the heat from the twin suns bearing down on him. He remembered it was much cooler with his helmet on, but he needed all the range of movement he could get. His sapphire eyes darted to the far wall where he noticed a white helmet on the ground. Blood slowly oozed from beneath the helmet, slightly staining the edges. A snarl curled the corner of his lips and anger began to creep through his veins.

 

In a split second, his men pounced. To any onlooker, a cloud of white had descended upon the Jedi Master. At first, Cathair thought things might be going the Imperials way, then he saw the truth. He watched as several of his men were thrown backwards, their bodies crashing into the wall of the Cantina. He watched as two rose back to their feet and made their way back into the brawl, but the third did not rise. Blood trickled slowly down his face, almost cutting him in two. Blood also flowed freely from his ears. He was dead. Another Imperial killed by Sly Stevenson. He heard grunts and screams emerge from the brawl, as some of his men fell to their knees only to rise again and keep fighting. He watched as they threw punches, rose their knees to attack Stevenson. They tried to grab the edges of his armor only to receive a strike to face for their efforts. It still appeared that the Imperials were winning, but Cathair knew other wise. His soldiers were beginning to tire, but the Jedi Master was just warming up.

 

((Did not wish to God-Mod, so I leave it to you to decide how you fight my men before you and I engage in battle.))

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Service. Fealty. Fidelity The Empire is the greatest Glory! We seek to protect the Empire. Unshakable is our devotion to the Empire. To Die for the Empire is the highest of honors!

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((Avararda, darling...You might check your planet again...Coruscant is the other way... ))

 

Tracyn, unintimidated, crossed his arms in front of him. "My apologies good Imperial, I was not aware that there was a terrorist in our midst. I don't ask every patron that enters my establishment what their occupation and business here is." He paused as though genuinely thinking over the observation before concluding, "Probably why we've stayed in business so long I should think."

 

 

"Now to my reasoning, friend, you have just committed an unprovoked trespassing of personal property and harassing my patrons to my view, without just cause. I know nothing of this "Jedi Master" you speak of. I've not seen the like in over a year myself and even longer than that on this heap of rock before that." He shrugged, having said his piece as the commander of the Stormtroopers thought over that for a bit.

 

Sighing, though, he turned again, noting that the others were getting ready to burst through his back door. "Look, I have no real quarrel with you or any other Imperial, other than your methods at present. Sending in one or two to have a look about would have been fine, but blasters aren't allowed, for anyone. Your job is to keep the peace on the planet right? Mine is to keep the peace in here, and Frell to the one that starts a brawl here with a weapon that's against the current policy. Now, you're welcome to respectfully search the back and yard for him, if you're so sure that he's here. If there is a fight I just ask that you take it outside if possible.”

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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(OOC: Previous Post)

 

He could feel them come at him through the force, their muscles flexing, their fists balling, and their kicks bracing for impact. They had clearly received hand to hand combat training while at the academy of the Empire, but they were far inferior to the skills of the former Jedi. On top of being trained in martial arts with the Jedi, he was also well trained in Teras Kasi martial arts. Whether one or one hundred, the Teras Kasi touch the skills needed to defend yourself in a hand to hand combat fight and use your body to leverage against your enemy. As with most teras kasi warriors, his fighting techniques were mostly defensive, and once the opportunity opened, a well time strike that would cripple the enemy.

 

He could hear their grunts every time he inserted his fist into their armor sections, or his hand colliding against their face. He dipped, moved, used other combatants against each other by pushing them, or throwing them into one another; the most dangerous part was, he wasn't really using the force to aid him in defeating his enemies. With all of their helmets removed, his favorite move was to ram his helmeted head against their skull, rendering them immediately unconscious or worse.

 

The numbers quickly began to fall, and he counted his remaining targets in his head as if it were a game to him.

 

”œ5”

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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A grimace slipped through Cathairs hardened expression as the cold snap of a spine echoed through the silent courtyard. Allowing his sapphire eyes to slide across the ground, he took in the brutal sight. Blood flowed freely from several soldiers heads and pooled in the sand. He watched as eyes flickered as life drained from his troopers bodies. He heard the thud as the last body fell to the ground, finished, killed by the ex-Jedi. Curling his fingers into a fist, he could feel each of his muscles ablaze with anger. The cracking of his knuckles sounded like thunder in his ears. Raising his eyes to meet the armored visor of his enemy, he felt a blood lust rising within him. Anyone watching would see the anger filled electricity crackling between the two combatants. The backyard had become a powder keg. The first inch of movement would ignite a fight so vicious that would probably destroy both men.

 

As he began to think of his attack plan, the Imperial Stormtrooper remembered what Captain Rustic had told them upon his arrival on Foy. Don't focus on your attack, keep your mind on something else. Focus on anything. Don't allow the Jedi to know your plan, to feel your intentions. So he allowed his mind to drift while still keeping his attention on the moment. His mind drifted to his past. To before he began his life of Imperial service. Back to when he cared only for the freedom he enjoyed.

 

Without thinking, Cathair gripped the pistol at his side and flung the weapon at Stevenson. Knowing the weapon would cause no damage even if it struck the Jedi, the Imperial Lieutenant flung himself at the Jedi. His balled fist thrust forward and anger in his eyes, he struck.

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Service. Fealty. Fidelity The Empire is the greatest Glory! We seek to protect the Empire. Unshakable is our devotion to the Empire. To Die for the Empire is the highest of honors!

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(OOC: Previous Post)

 

Sly barely had time to dodge the weapon that came at him in the blink of an eye. Strange, he hadn't seen that one coming; this imperial soldier was trained well. His focus was on other parts, and even with Sly tapping into his mind to attempt to detect his next moves, he found it difficult to sense where the man would go next.

 

Cathair's fist struck straight in the chin of the helmet, almost knocking it clear of Sly's head; the force of his fist knocking Sly to the side and jolting his head gear to a rattle. The echo of the shock from the trooper's fist rang through Sly's helmet; almost making him regret he was still wearing the armor. "Focus" he heard his master's voice say in his head, remembering his training long ago. He quickly regained his foot, and stumbled to the side, using the momentum of the punch to carry him into a turn that placed him a few feet from where Cathair had landed his first strike.

 

Tucked within the compartment of his armor was Sly's lightsaber, the code, waiting to be awoken. In a worst case scenario, Sly knew that if he had to save his own skin, he could quickly call upon it to end his opponent's life. Using the force to aid his step, Sly turned from his stance into a full spin kick with his armored foot aimed straight for Caithar's head.

 

Within Sly, he knew the truth. The truth was, the former Jedi and the Imperial officer weren't the real battle. The true fight had already long ago begun and the pieces were sliding into position for his final act.

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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The fight was going much better than Cathair had expected. He had landed the first blow, though that surprise compared to the one that was the result of him actually striking the Jedi Master. In his mind, Cathairs hopes grew. He might be able to win this fight. In his minds eye he could see himself presenting the Jedi Master before the Emperor himself. For a split-second he allowed himself to wonder what reward he would be given for bringing this known terrorist to justice. Shutting down that line of though quickly, the Imperial Stormtrooper turned his thoughts away from the fight once more.

 

The Jedis spin kick was almost a blur to the Imperial Lieutenant. Knowing that no matter what the Jedi would land a blow within seconds, the Stormtrooper made a painful decision. He knew this would hurt. As the armored foot made contact with the side of his head, he wrapped his arm around the leg, holding the Jedi Master to him. Deciding to turn this to his advantage, the Stormtrooper spun around and brought his elbow down on the knee of the Jedi. Hearing a grunt from beneath the armored helm, he allowed a smile to grace his lips. Continuing his spin he slammed a second elbow into the side of the Jedis head. Allowing himself to spin a little more, he came to a stop and prepared for a counter attack from the Jedi Master.

 

As he finished his attack, he heard the armored boots of his three remaining troopers about to make their way into the bar. Unknowingly they would walk straight into the EMP.

 

"SHUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS BEFORE YOU COME IN. EMP!!!"

 

Turning his focus onto the Jedi Master, Cathair knew what he needed to do. In his mind he could see how it would play out. Leaping at Stevenson, he wrapped his arms around the warriors neck. He could feel the Jedis strength as he tried to throw the Stormtrooper off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the pure white armor emerge from the door of the cantina. The three Imperial soldiers raised their weapons and took aim at the struggling Imperial Lieutenant and the Jedi terrorist. Switching their E-19s to the stun setting, they curled their fingers around the trigger and pulled softly.

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Service. Fealty. Fidelity The Empire is the greatest Glory! We seek to protect the Empire. Unshakable is our devotion to the Empire. To Die for the Empire is the highest of honors!

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(OOC: Previous Post)

 

The storm trooper made a grave mistake. He clung to Stevenson and for a moment Sly jerked and bucked like a ronto bull, attempting to fling him from his back. He could sense the danger approaching as the other troopers raised their weapons and fired, but it was too late. The heat from the bursting flames shot from Sly's armored jetpack which had sprung to life, lifting the two men off the ground. The stun blasts missed by only a few calculated inches as the two lifted and went soaring into the air like a rocket shot from the ground.

 

Had the soldier kept in close combat, he might have actually done some damage against the aging former Jedi Master, but he had made a terrible mistake by getting TOO close. You could tell from the expression on the storm troopers face, he went from having the upper hand to losing control of the fight all together. It all happened so quickly and as a result, Sly had the advantage again. It was easier now for Sly to fling the man from his back with a stiff elbow to the un-helmeted face of the man that nearly split his face open. With a simple push from the force, the trooper felt his hands separate from his grip, and realized his doom.

 

Turning to face the falling man, Sly could see the white's of his eyes; he was close enough to see the expression of horror that came upon the man's face.

 

He was falling, and fast.

 

Like a rock being pulled by Tatooine's gravity to the ground, he plummeted towards the roof of the cantina. If not for his armor, he would have likely died on impact, but he would surely be rendered unconscious when he crashed through the roof and landed on a table. The crashing sound sent the bar dwellers diving for cover thinking a bomb had just gone off.

 

Hovering above, Sly drew his lightsaber to protect him from laser bolts that would likely be flying his way soon. Tapping his helmet to initiate his comm. device he spoke; ”œI'm on my way, are both ships ready?”

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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For a brief moment Cathair felt the battle could be won. He could see the spirals of energy pulse from his soldiers. He watched as the rings of blue energy sped toward him and he closed his eyes and braced for the calming effects of the stun blast. But it did not come. He still felt Stevenson jerking around and then he felt the heat along his legs. Opening his eyes he could see the ground falling away from him. He watched as the flames from the jet pack licked at his legs, scorching the white armor, turning it black.

 

And then he felt it. He felt an invisibile hand pushing against his chest. He tried to resist, tried to cling to the plates of armor that the Jedi Master wore, but it was no use. The strength behind this hand was enormous. The more he fought, the stronger it became. He felt his grip loosening, his fingers sliding against smooth armor. And he began to fall. He could feel the wind racing past his face, flattening his hair against to his skull. Had death not been imminent, it would have been very calming. For a split second, horror crossed his face, his eyes widened before it realized fear was not helpful. And it turned to rage. In both his mind and his body, rage would be apparent to the ex-Jedi. The same thought crossed from his mind to his lungs with-in a microsecond.

 

BASTARD!!

 

Then he felt nothing. The Imperial Stormtroopers body crashed into the roof of the cantina. He felt his limbs go limp. His mind went blank as his eyes closed and he slipped into darkness. In his unconscious mind, he replayed the fight over and over. What could he have done different? How could he have captured the Jedi and saved his men? How could he have won? But he could only see how he had failed. His mind could not think of anything but his failure.

 

----------------------------------------------

 

The three Imperial Stormtroopers gave chase after the Jedi. Without thinking, they set their weapons to kill and took aim. They each began to fire at the fleeing suspect. As they rounded corners and sprinted down alleys, they each fired several blasts, but each was batted away, some carelessly into the roofs of buildings, but some were aimed back with precision, landing within millimeters of of the trooper who had fired them.

 

"Stun him. Stun him."

 

Each flipped their weapons to stun and once again began firing arcs of blue energy towards the Jedi. Just as he reached the hangar, a single stun blast him him. The troopers watched as the Jedi fell to the streets, crashing hard and sending up a flurry of dust. As they reached the Jedi Master, each smiled beneath their helmets.

 

Sending a communication to their shuttle, they requested it meet them at the hangar. The highest ranking of the three turned to the others.

 

"I am going to get the commander. Stay here with the prisoner until we return."

 

Turning away from the scene, he made his way back to the cantina.

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Service. Fealty. Fidelity The Empire is the greatest Glory! We seek to protect the Empire. Unshakable is our devotion to the Empire. To Die for the Empire is the highest of honors!

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(OOC: Previous Post)

 

He could feel his muscles pulsate as the surge of beams struck his armored body, although Sly had been taken a fair amount of torture in his days of being captured by the Hutt Clan, his body physically would be unable to sustain itself with three separate shots of a stun blaster. Feeling the blasts coming only moments before they struck, he braced his body for the uncontrollable spasms that would follow and did the best to relax as he collapsed onto the floor unconscious in his physical form. Knowing that he had only one hope of surviving the encounter that he had left himself relatively unprepared for, he readied his mind just before the blaster shots hit his body.

 

It's interesting how the mind of an individual can still run even while its body has been rendered unconscious. Your mind, when unlimited by physical limitations of flesh and bones, can be a very powerful thing; especially when that mind belongs to one of the most dangerous outlaws in the galaxy.

 

As the two storm troopers waited for their newly un-appointed lead officer to return with their captain who fell through the cantina, they readied the body for containment. As Sly's mind was still conscious within, his connection to the force was never severed, as such, his most powerful weapon was about to bring an end to the two troopers that stayed behind to guard the body.

 

The trooper that had pulled his interlocking cuffs felt it first. He felt somewhere from beyond, as if being struck by an invisible enemy, his arm that was holding the detaining mechanism suddenly snapped in half. The bone shot from his arm violently and shattered with enough force to splinter through the white pristine armor he wore. His partner felt it next when his left leg did the same. It was as if they were being crippled, snapped in half, by an invisible enemy; and they were. The two men screamed in agony as the pain continued on for a few more moments before their heads twisted, snapping their necks, and ending both of their lives.

 

Through the force, Sly made his new aquentance feel his need for help as he lay only feet away from her ships. Within the hanger Mirdala felt a calm presence calling for her help, asking her to come outside.

 

The mind is a dangerous thing, especially one as fearless as Sly's.

 

By the time the other officer would return, he would find only the two dead bodies of his soldiers, no witnesses to the escape, a fully fueled but almost empty ship in the hangar, and only the drag marks of a body through the sand into an almost completely empty hangar.

 

Stevenson had narrowly evaded the Empire, again.

The powers of Master Prophet and Adi-Wan were defeated by whining, rather than the Sith RPers using their heads to defeat them.
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Mirdala tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the sequences to start, and, due to the haste of the situation, they seemed to be taking much longer than normal. Finally all three ships were ready to be underway when her communicator beeped with Sly's check-in.

 

"I've got three ready to go, shall I send them all up and come pick you up?"

 

She looked around as he responded, going over the final checklist in her mind. "Acknowledged," she quipped back.

 

A few more moments passed and she suddenly began to feel a calling from her "other sense" to leave the spaceport, and even though she knew how important it was that she be ready to take off, she followed its call. Besides, the Jedi should have been to the space port by now.

 

Before she left the joint-dock, she made sure to arm all three ships defenses against anyone attempting to commandeer them for their own use.

 

A harsh wind had blown up suddenly driving the few natives inside for shelter, and the small granules of sand bit sharply against her exposed arms as she exited the relative shelter of the spaceport. Searching for the source of the call she wandered a few meters and came upon the unconscious form of the Jedi Master.

 

A short curse slipped past her lips and was lost to the wind as she walked carefully to him, cautiously moving towards him in case it was some sort of trap. She shook her head as she rolled and dragged him towards the spaceport, carefully placing the drag marks inline with her earlier foot falls, effectively covering her previous path.

 

Some training never loosened its hold over one so ingrained with tracking since childhood.

 

Stevenson, with his armor was heavy, but somehow Mirdala found it much easier to maneuver the man who quite effectively dwarfed her when he stood upright.

 

As she moved him again, the wind kicked up harsher than before, urging those already inside to stay there.

 

As the pair made it to the docking ports of the ships, Mirdala felt a whisper in her mind giving her a sense of what it was that Stevenson wanted her to do, and she carefully listened and followed his instructions.

_________

 

A few hours later she was in space and was initiating the random jump sequences for her ship as well as the remote ship, timing the jumping sequences so that the ships would arrive at the proper time at their proper rendezvous location or where ever it was that the ship was supposed to be.

_________________

 

As night fell on Tatooine, as much night as falls on a planet with two suns, a rather inebriated human and the Twil'lik dancer he'd persuaded to come back with him to his ship with promises of grandeur and lure of money.

 

He toddled down the street to the spaceport where his baby was docked during his stay, all the while weaving promises and tales to the dancer.

 

"Once we get there I'll buy you all sorts of new clothes and things. Nice things! Oh glorious things! -hic- I will make you a st-..." he burbled until his rambling was cut short by an elegant blue hand being held up to halt the flow of conversation, as the pair had arrived to the dock, and no ship was there to meet their arrival.

 

"Wha-t? Where the Frell is my ship? Baby, I swear...I'm telling the truth! I have a ship I really do!"

 

But the rantings and ravings of the no-name drunk were lost to both the dancer and the night as the former disappeared into the latter.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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  • 2 weeks later...

Kale hung his head low as he rode the public transport back to Tatooine. He had come full circle. Was there even a point to come back here? His entire life had been here on this ball of desert waste and now, having seen the galaxy, something inside him didn't want to return to this homeless rock; a rock filled with so many miserable memories that Kale's stomach turned uncomfortably, causing him to clutch at his abdomen.

 

The stiff cushion beneath him felt fairly uncomfortable under him as he sat still, feeling each turbulent thrust of the ship as it went upon his rather bony behind. His hands, which until know had nothing to occupy, rested below his chin pushing his elbows into his knees; his thoughts mocked the ebb and flow of the air about the transport as he buried his face into his ready hands trying to cover and control the chaos with a simple massage, hoping the remedy would work. The grease of his hair felt welcome upon his sweaty and callused hands, but something felt odd. He could feel someone's eyes groping at his form.

 

Eyes mysteriously probed Kale as he sat there and only drew from him an odd sense of curiosity, as if the very stare laid upon him a crude freezing sensation that crawled along his spine. The sense grew and eventually lead him to lift his head from where it lay upon his palms and reveal that no one was there. Knowing he felt something though, Kale continued to look around until he stood right in front of a young woman, staring straight into her eyes.

 

Something oddly familiar rang out within this girl's face so much soo that... .... .... Kale dropped to his knees, the caps thudding upon the metal ground as he came eye to eye with the small one standing not two feet from him.

 

A painful sensation burned through Kale's fragile body as he stood in front of the small child, ripping him a new misery to console with. His knees buckled and his face went white with shock as he seemed to be kneeling in front of an apparition. A person he hadn't seen and though lost; she seemed so real though, even when the intentions of his consciousness begged of her falseness...

 

You're not real... Kale kept telling himself until the small girl, what had been standing there for about 10 minutes, ran straight into him and hugged him. "I missed you brother", Kale's face seized up and flooded with warm, salty tears as her arms ran right across his chest. His heart surged with a warmth the likes of which the sun could only imagine and his body fell to a mass of tingling joy at the sight of the beautiful child. "I missed you too sister" He said softly into her ear as he rubbed his hands into her delicate hair, clasping her too in a great big hug.

 

The patrons of the transport looked at the pair with odd questioning glances, but ultimately paid them no attention.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Clash who wanted to find Dordjooba decided going back to where it all began was a good thing to do. He landed outside where the palace used to be and next to his ship. He got out and opened the door to his ship, he turned back and threw a grenade at the ship and watched as it exploded. He smirked before sitting down at the cockpit and started up the engines and got ready to take off. He walked back outside of his ship for one last breath of fresh air.

 

"Where would a Hutt hide?" He asked himself silently before settling on an answer.

 

Edited: Edited so Dordjooba's post was accurate.

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Vlahjik Tehiktlass, a rather large sand textured transdoshan emerged slowly from the sand, looking upon the new arrival within the radius of Dordjooba's rather humbled palace. He seemed to fit the mild description, but he had need to be sure, so the lizard inquired as to the beings identity before his presence could run its course...

 

The large lizard's eyes constantly scanned the horizon, reaching with his sight for any lingering troubles and as such remained ever on guard for people claiming to be of stealth amongst the sand.

 

"Are you the one they call.... CLashssssshssss?" it said with a low and raspy almost sandy voice. His syllables matching the texture upon his skin and under his feet.

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Clash grabbed his pistol and aimed it at the Transdoshan who had approached him, as it spoke he realized who he worked for, Dordjooba. He put his pistol back into it's holster before answering the being.

 

"Yes, do you work for Dordjooba? If you don't, I will give you 20 seconds to run but after that I will shoot you without hesitation." He then eyed the Transdoshan and waited for a response.

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The large transdoshan laughed heartily at the puny man's threat. The man before him who seemed hostile until loyalties were proven seemed to ignore the complete random appearance of such a large transdoshan in the middle of nowhere.

 

"I do not fear your primitivve weaponsss ssssmall one, but yesss your query ringsss true. I do work for Dordjooba and have been contacted by the ssssame to meet a csssertain CLashhhh here by the palacsse'ssss previousssss ressssting placssse. He figured it would be the firssst placsse you'd look"

 

The desert wandered looked oddly toward the small man with his large golden reptilian orbs. The creature's hand reached for something in its ragged yet some how still together garments of tan and brown revealing what appeared to be a rather familiar golden card, another card with an unfamiliar face on it and a Datapad with ignition codes and coordinates on it.

 

"Dordjooba'sss sssstaff ssssent me thesssse codessss and thingssss when they told me of your arrival a little while ago and thissss golden card issss ssstill your ssstaff card and link to Dordjooba. Now, thissss card" The transdoshan said as he revealed the rather odd second card, "issss what you will usssse to take the ssssship regisssstered under that name to the indicated location. I wassss insssstructed to filch ssssome pilot'sss ID and give it to you sssso you could rightfully make it out of Tatooine without ssssusssspicssion on yourssss or Dordjooba'ssss partsss. Just make ssssure you wear a cover or ssssomething becausssse although the pilot issss human he doessssn't look much like you. Don't worry about your sssship, it sssshould be ssssafe, but I would put it ssssomewhere you trusssst... Assss for anything elsssse... I wissssh you luck and hope you ssssee Dordjooba ssssoon..."

 

With those last parting words, the overgrown lizard finished, and with but a wisp was carried off into the sand leaving the cards and data pad in Clash's hands.

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Clash nodded as the Transdoshan talked, he took the card and studied it for a couple seconds before turning back to his ship and taking off. He flew towards the Cantina and landed behind a large pile of sand, he set up a lock down sequence and inputted a password. He walked towards a hangar in Mos Eisley. He picked out the ship and hot wired it, it seemed to be a reoccurring theme with him but he didn't care. He punched in a take off sequence and typed in the designated location. THe starfighter hovered above the ground before shooting towards the sky and disappeared from view.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Zed maneuvered the ship through atmosphere of the desert world. He was a bit uncomfortable with going back to this planet due to last time. Yawning to hide what he was thinking his head moved to looking for place to land. Spotting a flat place to land with enough room he moved down to spot.

"I'll leave Uno with the ship to guard it after we land unless you want me to stay here."

 

The landing gears came out and with a single bump the ship had landed. He quickly went back to set Uno for staying with the ship. Coming out of ship after doing that he looked around. Zed was ready to just wait outside unless he was needed to head to cantina.

 

"The hot.. dry and windy planet. Landed as close to cantina as I could." He pulled goggles down over his eyes to protect them.

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My helmet's internal speakers emitted a slight beeping noise, rousing me from my slumber. Instantly I was alert; my hand dropped down to my DT-57 on my thigh and I monitored my situation via the helmet's scanners. No threat was present; I relaxed my tight grip on the heavy pistol. The chair let loose a slight squeak as I sat forward, reminding me of my ship's needs for basic maintenance. A press of a few keys on the main console and a display was brought up on the forward view screen, highlighting a newly-entered ship in the sector.

 

”œAvararda,”

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Leialla shifted steadily within the ship, but something felt a little odd as she rested quietly within the passenger seat of the metal beast. She could feel the heat upon her skin as the thermal radiation of the Tatooinian air poured through to greet her. Just when she was about to retreat from the dry and unwelcome greeting however, she could vividly hear an encrypted message come to the ship. The message was seemingly harmless, but delivered a condition that Leialla was rather sad to obey...

 

The Shi'ido reached for her comm and, although it seeded a rather silly endeavor, called Zed from her position with in the passenger seat. "Looks like he wants you hot shot. Look, here's the deal. I got a comm on the way here that we have a deal for this man. Dordjooba wants to hire him and would like him to get started right away." said Leialla with a rather grumpy, but noncommittal tone to her voice. "Take 500k of the money with you so you can pay him up front and I will send you the details of the hit on the way over. Go meet him in the Cantina and I will wait here... It seems our employment prospect likes to meet alone with his clients."

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Zed nodded and walked over to the money grabbing the 500k he needed. He wasn't exactly comfortable with being the one to meet the fellow in the cantina. Shrugging aside his own concerns he made his way over to the cantina. His data pad beeped as he went to open the door.

 

Walking into the dimly lit cantina Zed looked around. The place was dark and smelled awful but he managed to spot the man he was to meet with. He guessed it was Dinn fellow due to most were not sitting alone. He made sure to make a quick scan around the building for anyone suspicious before approaching.

 

Walking over Zed made sure his sword on his back and blaster pistol would be noticed on his belt. He sat down in a chair next to the man. Sliding over the credits and datapad Zed felt unsure of the man. Though it was probably the fowl smell of place bothering his stomach.

 

"Theres the credits and the datapad has the info. Any questions?" Zeds voice was calm and he was right to the point.

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A slight tilt of my head was the only recognition I gave the man. Though the cantina was dimly lit, my helmet's light adjuster's quickly compensated. I saw him slightly grimace at the environment. I guessed it was the stench of the place, although the dirty air had to pass through my filter before I breathed it. The agent looked uneasy, which is exactly the effect I usually had on people. The Ubese armor had the tendency to be slightly intimidating and my personality only augmented the mood. I said nothing as he sat in the chair directly opposite of me. Our location in one of the booths of the cantina ensured that our business would be private, although the noise level of the cantina drowned out the little conversation we'd have.

 

He sat down without introducing himself, instead opting to slide over a credit chip and a datapad. I reached out for the latter and reviewed the details of the contract: it was a kill, but he wouldn't be an easy target. Force-users generally tended to put up a slight fight. The credit chip on the table took away any possibility of hesitation I might have had. It would be a difficult fight, but in the end, I'd be a great deal richer than I was now. I thumbed the datapad's power switch and set it on the table next to my untouched ale. A credit chip of that value would undoubtedly be an object of attention; I grabbed it and slid it into my armor.

 

”œWe have a deal; however, you're coming with me,”

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Zed tilted his head and blinked when the man said. He couldn't believe that he would have to go with the man. Zed didn't get much more time to think about it as the man went on talking. He couldn't believe that something like having to go with man hadn't been mentioned. With a sigh he stood up ready to get this over with. Though he was curious as to what exactly was point of him going. Zed walked over towards the Dinn fellow.

 

'Why exactly do you need me to go? What is the point of taking me along? I'm no good with a blaster... plus I can't leave my droid alone with my ship." He talked fast trying to get out of getting taken along. Zed wasn't one to head towards danger.

 

He was a bit of a coward when it came to life and death stuff. Zed had never been one to pick a fight with someone that could kill him. He hoped the man would just let him go but he didn't feel that lucky. Zed awaited the mans response though the feeling in his gut was telling him he would not get the answer he wished. He hoped that he hadn't offended man in any way with the quick try to get out of having to go with him but Zed still had the what happened before on this planet on his mind.

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"I see no reason to waste time and ask questions. However, if you wish, I will explain this to you."

 

A sigh was heard through my helmet and I continued.

 

"Dordjooba's target is very high-profile. I am very skilled at what I do, but I admit that I need help with this one. Now, with that said, we will head to my ship and be off. I've recently discovered a public broadcast which we should be able to trace."

 

I waited for the man to stand and exit the cantina before I made any motion whatsoever.

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Zed looked over at the mans ship after hearing his words. With a sign Zed got off his feet and left the cantina. He had never liked going into someone else's ship but there were more important things to worry about. Zed hated this dry dust ball and atleast he would get off the planet.

"Where exactly is this ship of yours?"

 

Zed waited to follow the man to his ship. Zed thought of what might happen while he waited to be directed to the ship.

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((OOC: Apologies for the way. Completely forgot.))

 

Instead of answering the man, I simply stood up and strode towards my ship. As soon as I boarded it my security systems recognized me and deactivated themselves. I waited for the man to follow and immediately took off.

 

((OOC: Go ahead and post your reply in space. We'll continue there.))

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  • 3 weeks later...

Three Black Sun agents stroll down the streets of Mos Eisley with a score of armed troops. Agents R3-N0, 3L-3N4, and RU-D3, armed with a force pike and two pairs of stun knuckles respectively (at least outwardly- vibro-shivs and blasters were probably hidden underneath), lead the way, causing the populace of the spaceport to clear out of their way as they boldly enter the Cantina.

 

If the spaceport was a hive of scum and villainy, and the cantina was its heart, the appearance of these three operatives made it classier but far more villainous. R3-N0 points with his force pike and dispatches two men to walk over to the counter, then sits in a corner booth. Agent RU-D3 follows, with the third agent, 3L-3N4 following behind, glaring at the patrons. R3-N0 motions for her to relax, then, when firmly seated and with a refreshing Tatooine Sunburn in his hand, R3-N0 makes an announcement.

 

"Mr. Daisaku of Black Sun has asked us to see that this place is brought under new management. He requests you all have a drink on himand toast to Black Sun's new fortunes on Tatooine." Under the guns of the nameless Black Sun heavies that followed the three agents, the bar gives a resounding cheer to "Smash Daisaku!" and "Black Sun!" following EL-3N4's lead. Graciously, the drinks are credited to a private Black Sun expense account.

 

RU-D3, normally silent, raises his glass afterwards, watching a few people try to slink out from behind his shades, motioning for one heavy to follow and watch the news of this very direct challenge circulate around Mos Eisley.

 

"....

 

Cheers."

Hail Daisaku!

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There was a slight chuckle from behind the bar at the declaration made by the Black Sun operatives. Adenn Galaar moved out from one of the darker parts of the bar and continued drying the glass that he had been previously occupied with. He finished and set the glass down with the rest of the clean dishes. He dryed his hands with the towel and tossed it in the general direction of the dishes.

 

"And just how the hell do you expect to do that?"

 

Adenn leaned on the bar, lightly resting his chin on his up-turned palm. His humor-filled eyes swept over the three men, watching for any sign that they were going to turn violent. He used one of the buttons under the bar to send a notification to Mirdala, alerting her to confrontation that was likely going to take place at the bar. The hand that wasn't occupied with supporting his chiseled features moved from the alert button to resting on the button that would send an EMP pulse through the bar and the surrounding areas, rendering many of their weapons useless for the small amount of time that it would take Adenn to dispatch them.

AdennGalaarsig42607.jpg

 

Verd ori'shya beskar'gam

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