[IB] The Search for Nandi

[Bleed Me A River]

Spoiler: The Bounty

[name] __nandi
[profession] __criminal
[location wanted] __dorin
[species] __devonarian
homeworld]__uba________
[age]__34____
[gender]__male___________
[last location known]__dorin
[wanted]__dead
[risk assessment]__armed
[subject summary]
__nandi is a low-key criminal who was born on uba. He is suspect in a couple murder cases, which led him to move to dorin. On dorin, he was spotted killing a businessman for cipher corporation.
[approach assessment]
__though not experienced in combat, he has killed and will kill again. If he is determined a threat to surrounding civilians, do not attempt to arrest and instead execute if need be.
[reason]
__Nandi is wanted for the murder of a cipher corporation employee.

Grik was sent to Dorin to hunt down a Devonarian murderer in the vicinity. Being raised as a hunter, himself, bounties like this would be a little more simple to him than a human of equivalent skill. He landed on the docking station and scanned the picture before peering into the crowd, looking for anyone with his build. He walked through the city, carrying his rifle on his back, looking at anyone of Devonarian descent. For the time being he had no luck finding him, so he stopped at a bar to ask the barkeep anything, also to get a drink. "One beer." he said, simply when the keep walked over to him.

"Any reason you come in here with all of those weapons? You a Bounty Hunter or sum'thin'?" the keep asked. He handed him a beer and took the credits for it. Grik took a swig and cleared his throat.

"Yes. I'm looking for a Devonarian by the name of Nandi. Know anything about him?" he said, leaning into the bar so he wouldn't have to speak loudly. He slipped the keep 20 more credits which seemed to loosen his lips. "Aye, I know the fella. Bit weird, and pretty hostile, but he comes in and drinks a beer at the corner booth in the back. After that he leaves. Same thing every night." he says, checking the credits to see if they're the real deal. "Ain't come in tonight though yet." he added and went to cleaning a glass.

"Think he will?" Grik asked, scoping out the booth the barkeep pointed to.

The barkeep looked at Grik, simply to communicate that more info required more credits, to which Grik threw 20 more credits down. "Yeah, he'll be in tonight in about an hour. Stay around here, and wait if you like." he said with a grin and walked over to another customer. Grik took this time to unsling his rifle and tuck it underneath the bar, between his legs.

 

[Cortan]

Dor'Shan, capital city of Dorin.

It wasn't a city like many across the cosmos - not in the vast scheme of things. Many worlds, even the now dead Coruscant, built their greatest cities tall and magnificent, standing testaments to their own power, glory, and wealth. Dor'Shan however was short, however widespread, and each building had a degree of space unto itself, rather than long lines of terraces and other such designs. Combined with its age, and many streets were loosely formed at best, and even then, that fact didn't really matter too much. Long had the age of space flight and flying cars been a reality for worlds across the galaxy, and so people were able to about however they wished, flying over the city if they could not find their way within it. It was, after all, not built with them in mind.

It was built for the storms.

Storms like the one that loomed over the distant horizon, the crack of thunder echoing in the air after a delay of several seconds from the initial flash of lightning. Anyone from or hung around Dorin knew that when those blew in, you got inside, didn't matter where or how. It was typical social practice to be accommodating for anyone in need of shelter at such times, and as such, little effort was made to restrict the flow of people coming into the bar, helped probably that it simply meant they had a chance to buy some drinks whilst they were here. The only thing really of note was how the entrance was an automated, rotating door, for the most part airtight, that enabled many of the offworld patrons to take off the breathing apparatuses they needed to properly breathe whilst on Dorin's surface, whilst the native Kel Dor had to put on the rebreathers that they normally kept for offworld purposes. Such was the fate of a planet where the primary gas which life drew on for energy was not oxygen.

"Heeeeey, there's our devil!" A loud cheer erupted at the latest wave of potential customers filing in, one of whom had the quite distinctive horns of a particular species. The figure, red in skin colour, and decently built, pulled off a clunky breathing mask as he was met by several others, mostly humans and twi'leks, before being guided off to a table where they all gathered from a drink. It seemed they were having some kind of celebration to themselves, with jubilant sounds that could almost drown out the increasing sound of blustering wind and heavy rain outside.

 

[Tara Bronwyn]

Tara didn't exactly trust places where the air was suspect. Keeping that in mind, the fact she was here was a bit odd. Well it was and it wasn't. She was here on a business trip of sorts. Not that, that business was legal or morally up standing for that matter. But, the advantage of Dorian was there was always some one willing to buy arms, and she didn't question all that much why they might want them.

She had ducked inside to avoid one of the infamous storms, of which the planet was known for. She sat at her table adjusting her hair. She was dressed more formally than she might be otherwise, after all appearance was half the battle when it came to these things, more so on a planet where she required a breathing mask. She propped up a data pad and took advantage in the pause in the weather to send it off


She took a pause to look around the room . It seemed like a place that could be use full. If there was one thing she had to admit, the current state of galactic affairs was fortunate for her, now it was a matter of simply waiting.

 

[Dawyn]

Yet another hellhole.

That was the thought that crossed Lorn’s mind when the Dark Jedi’s boots first crunched upon the surface of stormy, dusty world. He was no stranger to hard worlds-he had lived as a farmer on one few knew about and even fewer cared about. He had travelled with his daughter across the fringes of the Outer Rim, weaving in and out of planets to hide both his own atrocities and his trail in the Force. And even now, he lived on one in which everyone and everything could kill him-and his family.

Except for Tara.

His mind flickered for a moment to the young, blue-eyed blonde vixen who had agreed to become his partner-in deed, and in power. Something was different about the woman who had bound himself by word with. She was not like Lucifer, not like the other Dark Jedi in her evil. She was a predator-a cat, to be specific. She like to toy with her prey, to preen, to keep herself clean and tidy, to put her preferences before others, and she killed-just like he killed-to get what mattered to her. But she was just doing what she knew how to do, how to live. There was no malice, no evil in doing what was in one’s nature. She lived as felines did.

And you would like her to purr for you, wouldn’t you? The remnants of his conscience asked. The way you look at her when she sleeps, curled up in the ship, entirely defenseless and in the palm of your hand. You could crush her in it, but instead you merely trace it over her cheeks and pull a blanket over her. You don’t need a partner, Lorn. You know how things work. So why-

Silence. The single, forceful thought echoed through his mind, brought forth by his will.

Running again, are you…? The voice in his head echoed, before drifting back into the darkness of his mind.

The darkness which he tapped for the very briefest of moments as he turned the corner to their pre-arranged meeting place, reaching out to feel her presence in the Force. It was not difficult to find-she did not make it a habit of tightly concealing her presence as he did with his own now, did not attempt to dim her brilliant reflection in the ever-flowing waters of that bound all life together. She was a candle in a dark room…but she was not alone. Narrowing his deep blue-eyes under the dark cowl of the simple cloak he wore, he focused on the other presence, another being shimmering in the darkness It was not an aura he recognized-not one of the Dark Jedi on Dagobah-or one that he had met, at any rate. A Jedi, A Sith, or someone else who had some training in the ways of the Force. Yet, without them drawing on any of their powers, he was unable to tell more-that was a dangerous loophole that he would close later.

For now…

Lorn gripped the heavy metal case in his hands firmly as he entered the revolving doors of the bar, shaking the more recent dust off as cloak as he awaited his turn to enter. Carefully scanning the room with both his eyes and the Force, he picked up Tara quickly-his pretty partner was sitting at a table, adjusting her hair and looking at her datapad. Moving over to her quietly, keeping his presence as small and as close to him in the Force as he could manage, he searched for the other party. It was only when he reached his partner’s table did he finally fix his gaze upon the other luminous presence in the room. A large Barabel sitting by the bar. Keeping his eyes on him, he spoke lowly to Tara as he set down, moving her datapad aside gently as he laid the large case on the table.

“Watch that one, Miss Tara.” he said, flicking the edge of his cowl ever-so-slightly toward the mean-looking reptile near the bar, his voice a near inaudible whisper “He’s ah dangerous one. Jedi, Sith, I can’t tell ya which he is. Might be here for us, might not be, but we have ta be prepared just in case. At any rate, I brought the samples we need ta show to these people.”

Flicking open the case with a deft hand, it revealed what they had come to Dorin to sell, in small quantities. Two rifles, some of the first of the new line of assault rifles being produced-and for now-sold in secret, the SR-23. One was equipped with a few normal curved cartridges, the other with a single hundred-round drum magazine. Taking the normal one carefully out of the case and placing it across his lap, he nodded at Tara. “I’ll be takin’ this one, Tara. You have the one with the big ol’ drum. ‘Tis not as powerful, but ye can shoot more, and I know ye ain’t as good with blasters yet. We’re just ta display ‘em, no shootouts-unless our friend at the bar starts one.”

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik couldn't hear what was being said, but he knew someone was talking about him. He decided to order a shot of some low-brow whiskey to make his time in this downpour worth it. The rain didn't bother him, as the rain on Barab I was much worse than this. He stood and walked to the lavatory in the back, taking his rifle with him, despite the barkeep's insisting on him leaving the rifle with him, to which he responded, "No one touches my rifle."

He came back from the bathroom, eying the booth that his target was expecting to sit at, only to find a group of people sitting there in his stead. "Hm." he said to himself and returned to the bar.

 

[Tara Bronwyn]

Tara was aware that there was some one there who ought not be. By, that was not unusual in places like this. In fact it might be a little odder to run into some one who might be on the right side of the law. Of course those places were getting harder to find. She mused upon that fact for a little while. But, this was not the time for deep philosophical thoughts or debates.

As she was musing Lorne managed to find her table. He was was dusty, and looked about as travel woren as she did, till she had managed to get a showed in, no matter how cold and brief it might has been. The soap had smelt odd besides. She nodded as the weapon situation was explained to her. " I see, no shoot outs, no matter how tempting they might be." She smirked a little at her own wit. After all some one needed to appreciate it, it might as well be her.

" If it goes well. And to be quiet frank who knows if it will. We're not exactly on a core planet." Which was true enough. But then, the people who might weren't exactly high society, for the most part.

She looked at the presented weapon. " Mmmm well at least it is pretty.'+

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik sat at the corner of the bar, eyeing the party, most particularly the Devaronian, purposely trying to get a rise out of him. Having dealt with them sparingly in the past, he knew one thing about male Devaronians; their fiery temper got them in over their head very often. He would wait for the Devaronian to come pick a fight with him.

 

[Cortan]

The Devaronian and his apparent acquaintances kept to talking amongst themselves, either ignorant of or deliberately ignoring some of the activity around them. The galaxy was in troubling times, so the display of weapons, even in a cantina, was not an uncommon concept. This also one of the few areas decently oxygenated on the planet's surface, so getting a variety of strange visitors, some that might have been even more alien than typical for the average traveler, was also to be expected, and with it, looks of curiosity and confusion.
Yet the Devaronians were among the most well traveled, and certain one of the longest capable for it, species in the galaxy. The number of space ports where they weren't present were likely limited to those they simply hadn't heard of yet. So why then, was one being stared at so intently by the lizard man across the way...?

That was the thing that began to be murmured amongst the group, and they began to briefly glance back at the barabel, trying to then glance away if he caught notice of their gaze. One rose to his feet, one of the twi'lek's, fairly sizable, if several pounds overweight, and he moved along to the bar counter, asking for another round of drinks. A tray was loaded up in short order, and he took it up in hand, only to then shake and shutter and he did so, before ultimately everything fell away from him. Liquid was flung in many directions and glass shattered upon the floor, hasty apologies made to the lizard man, others to the couple in cloaks at a table, on the edge of the flying drinks.
And as this all went on, the Devaronian and his compatriots began to make their way to the exit, placing on their masks in spite of the growing storm.

 

[PsychicMoneyMan]

Listeri quietly sat at the bar, sipping away at some plain old water. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, as his eyes darted from left to right as he analyzed the bar. His pupils froze, gazing upon the guy in the corner, who was staring at some random group. This seems like fun. He thought, when his mind was interrupted by a twi'lek. He his eyes narrowed, as it seemed very unnatural, while at the same time the group w=got up and quickly sped off to the exit. He gripped the pin of one his flash grenades, just as a precaution.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

As the Twi'lek walked to him and got his drinks, Grik tensed up in his seat, hardly even sitting in it. As the drinks flung from him, he was drenched in alcohol, but did not stay to hear the man's apologies and instead jaw checked the Twilek, knocking him out cold and ran out of the bar, putting his mask over his face in pursuit of the Devaronian. As a result of hunting in the torrential downpours of Barab I, he was able to keep pace with the group. He would slip into an alleyway, not far from them and resurface at the end of the street he was tailing them on. He'd wait behind a building for them to pass and he steps out behind themand shouldering his rifle. "Nandi, you are wanted for the murder of a Cipher Corporation employee. I have been sent by the Empire to find you, and I have. You've already lost. Have your friends disperse now or they too will lose their lives for your wrongdoings," Grik said in an authoritative voice. "Turn to face me or reach for anything toward your waist and I'll cash in all of your heads as collateral bounty. Disperse!" He barked at them.

 

[Shadow_Assassin]

Jaina walked out of the shadows. She had been hunting Nandi and followed leads to this planet. She was about to seize the target when some barabel pointed a blaster at him. Why did another person always have to make everything complicated? Aiming her sniper rifle at the Barabel, Jaina said "Move and you die." Jaina aimed at the alien's head, ready to dispatch him at the slightest movement.

 

[PsychicMoneyMan]

Listeri, slowly gripped another one of his grenades, as he got up and moved toward the lady and the Barabel. He got up rather nervously, but had a calm demeanour. He noticed that she had a blaster, so he took a seat nearby deciding to watch instead of getting involved in whatever was happening.

 

[Shadow_Assassin]

"Now now, there's no need for that" Jaina said. "I'm sure we can reach some sort of agreement." She held the sniper with one hand, still aiming at the Barabel, and used the other hand to unholster one of her pistols. She aimed it at the other man. This was soon going to be a fiasco if they didn't agree to something, so Jaina used her telepathy to calm the minds of the other hunters

 

[PsychicMoneyMan]

He suddenly froze. Having to stare down the muzzle of a pistol aimed at your face doesn't give you a good feeling. But, he noticed that she seemed distracted, doing something. He slowly reached around his back, and unlatched his rifle, slowly pulling it down so that it was at least now on the counter. He decided to say something, as he hoped that this wouldn't become a bloodbath. "Whoa, M'am, whatcha'...whatcha' doing there?" He said, ending on a nervous laugh.

 

[Shadow_Assassin]

Jaina relaxed a bit. "Claiming a bounty. Now walk away before I blast your face off." She lowered her blaster, no longer worried about this man. She sensed fear in his thoughts so she deemed him as a non hostile. She moved the blaster's aim to Nandi so he wouldn't escape in this confusion

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik sighed. "Always something." he thought to himself. Quickly tapping into the force, he moved out of her line of fire, then toward her, grabbing her weapons and using his superior strength to rip the weapons out of her grasp, after which, he rolled behind her, unholstered and pointed his slugthrower at her, holding it to the back of her head. "You shouldn't come between a Barabel and his prey. The stew afterwards, might have some zesty Zeltron pheromone in the broth."

 

[Shadow_Assassin]

Jaina acted swiftly, activating her shockboxing gloves. She set them to stun and used them to block a shot from the barabel, then punching at him several times. This would stun him for enough time to let her take the bounty and leave, she hoped

 

[PsychicMoneyMan]

Now, a little bit emboldened, he swung his rifle at the girl, as he slowly steadied his gun. He kept trained on her, even as she moved rapidly. He began trying to use some of his charm, which had helped out of many situations before, now hoped it would help this Barabel out of his situation. "Now, what seems to be the problem? Why would such a nice young lady like you try to hurt this man right here?" He said flawlessly. He was slightly surprised by himself, as he expected that he would stutter or pause.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik's thick scales absorbed most of the shock from the gloves. He stopped by grabbing her by the wrist and twisting it behind her, then pistol-whipped her twice in the back of the head, lightly, for a Barabel. This would more than likely knock her out, so he throws her to the side. "Now. Nandi. Where were we?"

 

[Shadow_Assassin]

Jaina fell to the side, knocked unconscious. She shouldn't have picked this fight but she did. Faintly, she could hear other people talking, but she couldn't bring herself to wake up