Ask Coruscant The Big Dawn

Zad Ruzed

Character
Sector Ranger
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Ranger

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Die Shize
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Music OOC

The Iron Gunman
Cigar smoke twirled toward the orange sky in a thin plume that would never reach it. Its efforts were not in vain. In the sea of steel and concrete, pillars stood tall and proud as they scraped the clouds, till they fumed with factory smoke that threatened to choke the sun. Yet, even with that industrial horizon, there still smoked the scar of the Sector Rangers and their headquarters going up in blast and blaze. Is that how the mastermind watched his fireworks? Smoking a cigar? Zad wondered as he inhaled before placing his hand on the balcony’s railing. The world below was waiting for him, though it had not waited on him. He could recognize his face in the mirror, reconciled with the new creases on his countenance, but somehow each glimpse was of an alien visage—a man he could sometimes hardly remember.

The Ranger turned from the view of a naked Coruscant and stepped back into the spaceport’s main hold. Sunlight created a canopy across the blue sky that hid the void waiting beyond, stealing his attention above a freighter setting down that looked as yellow as the color yellow. Not a bad haul. He nodded to himself as the lithe Zeltron pilot exited, her pink fingers running through a head of long green hair. But not my business. Zad looked away for what was, spotting an Ithorian shake hands with a Zabrak, a pair of Humans sort through luggage and a Bothan waving his way.

The Ranger straightened his black leather coat and approached his greeter with a grin. “About time you showed up. Your employer must like making his guests wait.”

“Huh?” The Bothan blinked. “No, you idiot, I was waving over my wife and daughter.”

Zad glanced behind himself to find two female Bothans skipping his way. “Oh…” He scratched his head. “My mistake.” Druk.

With that, he excused himself and gave the port another scan. Three Trandoshans giggling over their latest skinning, the fattest Rodian I’ve ever seen, a Twi’lek pop band boarding their barge… He sighed. It would have been easier if he had been as privy to the contact’s face as they were of his own. Relenting, Zad decided that the best way to wait for someone was to be waited on, so he waltzed toward the spaceport bar and sat at the counter guzzling ale.
 
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Corran Velt

Character
Sector Ranger
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Lieutenant

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TerranSteel
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It still felt too soon. Too soon to be back here. Too soon for the galaxy to move on. Sector Ranger Headquarters had burned to the ground in an inferno, acting as a giant funeral pyre to all the collective efforts of so many Rangers. All around the spaceport, denizens of the greater galaxy just didn't seem to care. An explosion on Coruscant? Old news. Sith? Heard it before. As Corran limped through the walkways, he could see their indifference. Perhaps that was their lot in life. The Sector Rangers were to bear this burden alone and he would bear it well.

The blond youth had come on the cheapest ship back to this zone of Coruscant to get his ship back. After he was so bravely dragged from the battlefield of the fiery headquarters building, the Crimson Venture had stayed parked for a long while as he recovered from serious injury. It was time to recover it. Still, Corran's mouth felt parched. A linger effect of the Sith toxin that had nearly killed him or, at least, felt like it had. Some water could do some good. Nearby, a spaceport bar promised refreshment. That'll do. With his clearly fatigued gait, many others gave the young man a clear path into the establishment. For early morning, it wasn't too busy. Granted, more beings wanted caf than liquor in the dawn hours. Though one stood out to him in particular. A long duster. Ebony skin. Cropped hair. "No... it can't be," the Ranger said under his breath.

Only one way to find out.

One strong step followed by a long drag of a boot heralded the recovering man's approach. If it was Zad Ruzed, he'd likely notice someone coming up on his left. To avoid getting a blaster barrel in his face, the blond youth stopped just short of coming up behind him. "You know, this isn't the Outer Rim. Regulation says you're not supposed to drink while on duty." While authoritative, there was some jest in the tone of voice. If Zad glimpsed over his shoulder, he'd be greeted by the sight of none other than Corran Velt. Though the rookie ranger from Ryloth all that time ago looked different. Over his shoulder was clearly the handle of a vibrosword that hung in a sheath along his back. A leather strap clung across his chest in a diagonal. The most glaring change was a scar that ran diagonally across his nose and up to his right eyebrow. Clearly the rookie no longer.

@Die Shize
 

Zad Ruzed

Character
Sector Ranger
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Ranger

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Die Shize
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Music OOC
Across the bar, mingling with the variously shaped bottles of all the different colors of alcohol, the display featured a news anchor covering reports of the Sector HQ bombing, though that was when a downtrodden oldtimer sitting some stools away asked the bartender to turn it down. Zad recognized the scene all too well. The man did not look weary with grief so much as weary of grief, as if his sorrows had become too tiring to deal with.

He’s no Ranger. Zad thought as he watched him turn his glass without purpose. But his son or daughter was. So the viewscreen’s sound stayed low and Zad raised his glass to the father. The two didn’t say a word as they lifted their drinks, though Zad kept his raised. In the reflection of amber ale was a figure of someone on the approach. When his glass clicked down off the counter, boots tapped his way, and for a moment Zad wondered where he had heard them before.
"You know, this isn't the Outer Rim. Regulation says you're not supposed to drink while on duty."

@Die Shize
Zad turned to look, his eyes narrowing in challenge above lips set in a rigid line. “You reckon?” The Ranger retorted. Then he removed himself from the stool and stood face to face with his speaker. There was no denying what he saw. Corran Velt. In the flesh. Go figure. He got older, got a sword for some silly reason and got one of the ugliest scars Zad had ever seen.

“Well, Ranger…” With a deep breath, Zad slowly lifted his ale to his lips and drank. One long leisurely gulp later and his glass was empty while he exhaled a satisfying aah. Then he took a daring step forward. “...I reckon I’m not on duty, and I reckon I'll drink whenever I want. Copy?”

Zad stood there watching and waiting, peering into each of Corran’s eyes. It would only take a moment on Zad’s part before the corners of those rigid lips cracked and he stood there staring at the face of five years later with a toothy grin of approval. If the timing was right, both men may just end up grinning like idiots together as Zad slapped a hand on his old friend’s shoulder.

“Corran Velt! How about that? Years gave you a war wound, I see. You’ll have to tell me about it over drinks.”

He motioned toward an open stool before he suddenly remembered that moment on the Crimson Venture those years ago. They had met a Jedi, killed some gutkurrs, Corran got his ship handled and Zad stood in it lighting a cigarette. Apparently she had less than ample air scrubbers. An awkward moment like this one.

“Unless you’re on duty, of course, Lieutenant, sir.” He made sure to add all that in with a smiling salute.



@TerranSteel @Corran Velt
 

Trys Aran

Character
Sector Ranger
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Lieutenant

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Sreeya
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Trys was still shaken by what had happened on Coruscant. Her house had been destroyed, and it was a miracle that she had found her son alive at all. She hadn’t had the chance to connect with Talak yet, and countless things weighed on her mind.

There was a shady character that usually showed up at the cantina here that could have more ties to the perpetrators. Trys outwardly was all business, and she showed up with her usual cropped hair and a suit. Her tattoos were barely visible, peeking just slightly beyond the cuffs.

She had given up on going undercover, her face having been splashed across various forms of media. She wasn’t banking on catching the perpetrator here, but she wanted to make them nervous about continuing to operate in this region.

Trys got herself a seat and a whiskey. A cigarra was already at the corner of her lip, smoke pluming as she struck up conversation with the bartender about any faces that came and went.

A familiar voice caught her attention and she looked to the side to catch Corran. She didn’t quite recognize the other man. Trys gave a half grin and tilted her glass to him. The exhaustion from the past few days was clear on her face, her eyes sunken and worn. She and her son were living out of a hotel these days.

@Die Shize @TerranSteel
 

Corran Velt

Character
Sector Ranger
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Lieutenant

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TerranSteel
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At first, Corran was fairly certain the rugged Ranger opposite didn't even recognize him. He stood his ground as the other man advanced on him. Face to face, Zad still exuded that rough frontier aura. An unspoken but clearly recognizable feeling. A man who had seen and done a lot of things. The blond youth remained just as stoic as Zad sassed back at the initial intrusion of authority on a man's freedom to drink. For a high-noon minute, the pair of Rangers eyed each other in equal measure. Sky blue eyes drilled back into a coal glare. Any common onlooker would not be remiss to assume a fight would break out any moment. That is until Corran matched the slowly widening grin of his fellow Ranger and even started chuckling as he patted the old friend on the shoulder. "Ranger Zad Ruzed! It has been too long."

At the mention of rank, the former rookie blinked a few times in confusion. Realization quickly dawned on his features and Corran reached up to his collar and rubbed a thumb across the insignia there. "Oh, the bars. Those are new." Not even a week old, in fact. They felt so heavy for such small, brass things. Mostly because they felt unearned. "Much like this too." The young man gestured to the scar across his nose with two fingers. This one felt earned. A reminder of ones failures. "I'm technically on medical leave, given my injuries. So I'll give you a pass this once... and take you up on those drinks." It was a clear jest, though anyone who knew Corran Velt would recognize it was a mercy. The newly-christened Lieutenant had been a stickler for the rules as a rookie Ranger. Now as an commanding officer, one would expect much the same.

Taking the open bar stool at the behest of his rediscovered comrade, Corran was quick to order a water. Alcohol likely wouldn't sit well with him after being down in the hospital for as long as he was. Practically needed to relearn how to walk. Ever since the inferno and the smoke at the fall of headquarters, he had been constantly thirsty. Like his body was terrified it would never taste water again. The young man intended to dive right into the story behind everything 'new' about him when their drinks arrived, but as the glass of life-sustaining liquid slid into his hand, someone in the corner caught Corran's eye. He glanced over only for a blink before tapping the sleeve of Zad. "I'm not certain, but I think that is," he leaned in to whisper, "Lt. Trys Aran. The Sith Hunter."

A recognizable figure appeared on the holoscreen. It was inaudible as the sound had been turned down by command of another patron. Corran wouldn't even have noticed if he hadn't tipped back his glass in an attempt to hide his side-glance at the famous Sector Ranger. The only thing that could have distracted him from Lt. Aran was Chief Hudson and the very leader of the Rangers was addressing the galaxy. "Hey, turn that up!" He snapped at the barkeep who seemed only a little annoyed about conflicting orders from their customers.

"...that you have broken the Rangers.” Those were the words from which the speech began for them. Everyone in that starport bar. From those dark words came a message of unity, endurance, and a will to fight on. Even though the Chief refused to mention the perpetrators, Corran knew them all too well. Force-user terrorists. Oh, how he hated them. A deep, seething hatred. But the blond Ranger had heard this speech before from Chief Hudson. Three times, in fact. After the Corellian Ranger station massacre. After the Sith assault on the Coruscant prison. And now this time. Always a message of unity, of recovery, of perseverance. Corran didn't want to just persevere. He wanted to get even. He wanted revenge. The young man's fingers clenched tightly around the glass in his hand; an outward visible sign of what he was feeling. Long ago, after Corellia, the Chief had pacified Corran with very similar words. Now, they just felt hollow. He was sick and tired of Rangers dying in a war that wasn't theirs and being commanded to endure it. He'd see to it that this time, things would be different.

@Die Shize @Sreeya
 

Ars Dagon

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Independent
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Unranked

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Nor'baal
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Coruscant, the ecumenopolis at the very heart of the Galaxy. Despite all its finery, however, it was just as warped and broken as every other force-forsaken world in the Galaxy, with a teeming underbelly of scum and villainy that kept people like Ars Dagon gainfully employed. He had touched down planetside yesterday evening, his ship resting in the nearby docking station, and had set to work immediately. Normally, his line of work kept him in the Outer Rim, but when spice runner turned cop-killer Dann Espina had slipped through his grasp back on Tatooine, his tracking had led him here - Coruscant.

Well, a stereotypical bar on Coruscant to be precise.

Ars checked the puck clipped to his belt, and clicked it on. A small holographic image of red-skinned Twi'lek appeared, its name written in Aurebesh underneath. He clicked the puck off and attached it back to his belt, before mentally checking his firearms. Bedecked in a set of Mandalorian Armour an EE-3 Blaster Carbine over his shoulder, Ars sported a Westar 35 Blaster Pistol on one hip, and a West 55 Heavy Blaster Pistol on the other. Two Vibroblades rested likewise, with a clutch of frag grenades and a thermal detonator there also. A set of stun cuffs, a commlink and a datapad set the war material off. His most treasured possession, however, was the Bounty Hunter Licence he carried with him everywhere.

Quickly, as he approached the bar entrance, he confirmed the Bounty read-up on his HUD.

+++Dann Espina+++
ALIVE
10,000 Credits (or equivalent in other currency)​

Underneath was a selection of key data, to assist in tracking the target. Walking into the Bar, he hovered his right hand over his Westar-55, and in his left, he held his fob. Scanning the room as he walked in, Ars spotted his quarry, a red-skinned Twi'lek, adorned in Tattoos as per the description. The fob confirmed his suspicions.

He paused a second, spotting the others in the bar. Catching the tail end of one of their sentences, he heard them use a military rank to refer to one of their compatriots. Rangers? he thought. No matter. He pushed the thought from his head - he was licenced to operate in this system, and a bunch of rangers wasn't about to stop him. "Espina." the Twi'lek turned as he heard Dagon speak. "Move along punk, we ain't lookin for..." Dagon raised his left hand, holding the fob as a means of silencing Dann Espina. "You're coming with me."

Espina wasn't having it, and he turned to face the Hunter, his hand hovering over his gun.

Dagon said nothing.

"I don't think so p..." the Twi'lek made for its gun, it's arm moving toward the butt of its pistol - but Dagon was faster. With his right hand he removed and fired a clean shot into firing hand of Espina, sending it jarring off and spiralling onto the floor. The Twi'lek howled and dropped to one knee as silence descended across the Bar. "Pootah! You shot my frakking hand off!" Espina screamed.

"Can it freakshow." Dagon snapped, his blaster still trained on the bleeding Twi'lek as he reached for a medpack. Still holding the fob, he unhitched a med-pack and threw it to one of the nearby Rangers (@Die Shize) "Do something useful. Patch him up. He's no good to anyone dead."
 
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Zad Ruzed

Character
Sector Ranger
Rank
Ranger

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Die Shize
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Music OOC [Recurring]
"Oh, the bars. Those are new." Not even a week old, in fact. They felt so heavy for such small, brass things. Mostly because they felt unearned. "Much like this too." The young man gestured to the scar across his nose with two fingers. This one felt earned. A reminder of ones failures. "I'm technically on medical leave, given my injuries. So I'll give you a pass this once... and take you up on those drinks."
Between badge and blemish, there was surely a history to catch up on for both Rangers. The idea was to do so over drinks but, as Zad blinked at the water, he did remember how die hard for the Ranger’s Rulebook Corran was. A little more so than me and Leon... Now he blinked at that name, recalling it as though the owner ought to be sitting at this same bar. Time… Here one second and gone the next, like a glass of ale. The bartender planted a fresh glass of ale on the counter and Zad sat there watching vapor droplets as though they were something else. The badge. The badge with blood on it. Corran Velt. Leon Terrick. Zad Ruzed. So many damn others… .
"I'm not certain, but I think that is," he leaned in to whisper, "Lt. Trys Aran. The Sith Hunter."
Trys Aran. Zad finished a thought, wondering how long it would take for the 'Sith Hunter' to tell her tales. It was a casual coincidence that three Sector Rangers ought to find each other in the same spaceport bar. Thinking about it, Zad checked the time and scanned the port over once more, seeing no one else of note. Eh, I can wait. Now I gotta reason to.
"Hey, turn that up!"
He cocked a brow at Corran’s command and followed his gaze. With that, a familiar voice rolled out from the viewscreen like a comet in slow-motion. Every word that Chief Douglas Hudson spoke, Ranger Zad Ruzed was captured by it, staring with his glass frozen beneath his lips.

Music OOC
“But you have only united us."

"We will prevail."

"We will come together and be stronger than ever."


“I am still here and so are the Rangers. We carry the spirits of the Rangers that gave their lives for the cause with us. And we will not be going anywhere.”
Zad bit his lip as if to draw blood. Danes. Simmons. Jethra. Dikol. Gar’gat. He might shake his head but there was no shaking away the names of those Rangers who had perished in the explosion and the fire. Rangers who gave their lives for that bloody badge… Yet death was not in vain. With every beating the Sector Rangers took, every demolition of every station, there was just no stopping the law. Those two letters of "SR" would not be swayed by threats, would not be moved by pleas, would not be deterred by resistance. They would seek and seize, imprison and punish, and persevere. We will prevail. The words of the Chief, wounded and bandaged but living and breathing, echoed in Zad’s head like a scream in a cave. We will come together.

Amber liquid flowed down his throat like a waterfall into a waiting ocean, timing his drink with the old man’s who had tears on his cheeks. The Chief’s was a moving speech, his very image a symbol of survival, of unity and strength, but the heart that beat in a bruised chest sent a rush of blood to Zad’s brain as he recalled the names still living or dead. He took a deep breath and held his gaze with his drink, wondering where the droplets began and when the names would end. Douglas Hudson…

Zad stole a look at one Lieutenant Trys, who was as skilled and experienced in the galaxy as a drifter who roamed its fringes; then a look at Corran, solid but sore, clenching his glass as though it were an enemy’s neck or a gun’s grip. He wants unity. He wants strength. But he thinks it will take a sea of blood to swim us there. For Ranger Ruzed, a dusty outlaw with a badge, he didn’t know whether to feel invigorated or indignant. Time. Our worst enemy. With enough time, the Sector Rangers will scrape to the top. Out of time, and we might become the dust that we kick when our boots land and our ships take off...
Still holding the fob, he unhitched a med-pack and threw it to one of the nearby Rangers (@Die Shize) "Do something useful. Patch him up. He's no good to anyone dead."
Just then, there was little more to think about apart from blaster fire and a tossed medpac from an everyday bounty hunter. Zad caught it with instinct. He looked left, looked right, and waited. In the end, Zad Ruzed was but a humble Ranger in a galaxy that was growing to hate them. I got two commanding officers who can deal with this. I'll save the medpac for now.


@Sreeya
@TerranSteel

@Nor'baal
 
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Trys Aran

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Sector Ranger
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Lieutenant

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Sreeya
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Trys simply blinked at the fellow Lieutenant who very openly leaned in to whisper about her in someone’s ear. She didn’t take her eyes off him, genuinely curious at seeing this play out, but she said no words. Shrugging, Trys turned back towards the bartender and was about to ask a question when the Holo came on.

She had been in touch with the Chief. Nowadays, he often looked to her whenever he wasn’t around. For a sick moment, she had feared having to step up more, but thankfully he was alive and well. She raised her drink to the words, though they felt hollow to her.

Another day, another loss. Others waged their wars and Rangers paid the price. She took a sip as she remembered the Rangers that hanged from bridges and trees in Nar Shaddaa. She remembered all the graffiti and brands left on her dead brethren in the lower districts of Coruscant.

Trys was about to take another sip when there was a tremendous amount of commotion. She whirled around to see a Mandalorian barge in and attack a Twi’lek. She sprang to her feet and grabbed a glass of blue milk from another patron. Trys wasted no time in flinging the glass with expert precision at the Mando’s face while he was distracted. This would spread the thick liquid across his visor and make it near impossible to see for a moment.

She’d take the moment to attempt to sweep his leg and make him faceplant. Her gun was already drawn and pointed, “What the hell are you doing?!”

He better have had a good explanation for randomly coming in and popping off shots. This did mean, however, that the twi’lek was now likely attempting to hobble away.

Trys was about to say more when a message beeped on her comlink. She stepped back, being on higher alert these days. As she read the message, the blood drained from her face. Suddenly, the Mandalorian, the injured Twi’lek, none of it mattered. Her mouth turned to ash, her veins were pumping ice.

Her worst fear. Her nightmare. Everything she had ever feared had come true. They were going after Crix. Crix never would have given up any of this information. It meant they had him or he was...she didn’t dare allow her mind to go there.

With shaky hands, Trys quickly punched two words and sent them over to Talak. She didn’t engage anyone else, and she slowly walked directly past the Mandalorian, stepped over the severed hand, all without a single glance back. She moved like a robot, switching off her comlink and casually tossing it into an open dumpster to stop herself from contacting anyone else.

‘Find Crix.’

@Phoenix @TerranSteel @Die Shize @Nor'baal
 
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Corran Velt

Character
Sector Ranger
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Lieutenant

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TerranSteel
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Everything happened so fast. One moment, Corran was deep in his thoughts while watching the Chief of the Rangers speech and the next a Mandalorian-armored psychopath shot the hand off a patron and chucked a medical pack at Zad. The blond ranger rose from his stool; the glass in his hand clattering to the bar counter. "What is - !?" He didn't get another word as a blur of blue-milk smashed into the T-shaped visor. It had been thrown harder than any ball in sports Corran had ever witnessed. With precision and instinct similar to carnivores on the Demon Moon, Trys had moved to engage the armored being and drew her sidearm to pin them in place. Corran reached down to draw his own blaster, but only found the fabric of his pants. Engaging hostiles at the fall of Ranger HQ had cost him nearly all his equipment, except the sword on his back looted from a fallen enemy. His mind went to the next best thing.

With an authoritative point to the bartender, the recovering Ranger ordered in a strict voice, "Call the Constables and medical service!" Three Sector Rangers could probably handle this scenario, but Coruscant had a well-trained police force and they would want to be alerted to some Outer Rim-style shootout at one of their spaceports. The barkeep nodded slowly, still in shock, before scrambling for the nearest commlink. Returning back to the unfolding scene, Corran was greeted by a completely changed Lt. Aran. Her face had gone pale as a ghost. "Lieutenant...?" He asked carefully. It was like she wasn't even here. A mere visage of someone on another plane of existence.

The spectre of Trys glided over the Mandalorian gunmen and the severed hand both. Blond eyebrows furrowed in a look of confusion and concern. Though he didn't know the famous Sith Hunter very well, Corran had seen this before. He'd even experienced it himself. Sky-blue eyes swiveled to look at Zad; speaking with no words but clearly expressing a worry for their comrade. But they couldn't leave this mess without local security getting there, could they? As Trys drifted out of the establishment, the newly-christened lieutenant had to make the first command decision of his career.

Grasping Zad by the shoulder, the young ranger spoke in a low voice and with eyes as sharp as crystals, "Somethings not right. We've got to go after Lt. Aran." It was a calculus formed almost entirely on gut feeling. Coruscanti Constables could take care of a bar scramble, but only Sector Rangers could look after their own. In Corran's mind, Trys Aran the Sith Hunter was irreplaceable. She was the first to see the threat. The first to fight it. Even if it was nothing, they had to know for sure. What Zad Ruzed did next was up to him.

@Die Shize @Sreeya @Nor'baal
 

Ars Dagon

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Nor'baal
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The Ranger ignored the med-pack, and Ars made to make some sort of snarky reply - before being caught completely by surprise. He saw a blur of commotion as one of the rangers leapt into action, clearly much more on the ball than her compatriots, sweeping a drinking glass off the table as she made her way toward him. Ars took a step back, catching a thin film of the blue liquid over one side of his vizor, much to the amusement of those around him as he staggered back, coincidentally stepping out of the range of the Rangers sweeping leg attack.

"Stupid," he shouted at the Ranger, wiping away the gooey liquid from his vizor "...get back here!" he shouted again, realising that, not only was his target limping out the door, making the best of a bad situation but Ars' assailant, the Ranger, was now distracted by something on her commlink.

He had to get this back under control and fast. With another Ranger calling in the local authorities, Ars dashed after Dann, is quarry blindly sprinting for the main door. Ars wasted no time, regaining his balance, he ignored the Rangers and continued his pursuit, running for the main door and out into the street after his target. Dann was barging through the crowd now, desperately making for a speeder bay at the end of the street. I need to move fast, bag him before the local suits arrive, Dagon thought to himself, breaking into a run to close the distance between him and his prey.

Dann dashed to the left, sprinting down a side-alley, his remaining hand clamped over the stum-like wound of his other appendage in a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding. Idiot, Dagon though as he darted into the alley as well, won't do a damn thing.

It was a dead end. "Freeze." he shouted, letting off a single shot at the feet of the target, missing them by centimetres "Let's not make this harder than it has to be." he added, stowing his blaster and raising his right arm. "You'll never take me in time, the authorities will swarm this place in minutes!" Dann sneered back, his face paling through loss of blood. "I don't need minutes." Dagon replied, thumbing the switch and sending a grapple line snaking toward his target.






 

Zad Ruzed

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Sector Ranger
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Ranger

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Die Shize
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Music OOC

Amid the chaos, from the Chief’s voice that had roused a sympathetic audience to a Mandalorian’s blaster going off, Zad’s superiors had not disappointed him. Trys had leapt upon the attacker with lethal instinct, checking it in order to not eliminate but instead incapacitate. With blue milk to boot, hoo-wee. The other lieutenant had fumbled with his pants as though there ought to have been an iron hanging on his hip. While Corran traded gun of boom for mouth of flying tongue, Zad raised his ale to both Rangers. All in all, without his two ranking officers present, he would have had to do everything that they were already doing. Oh well. There they are and here I am.

One of them, however, no longer seemed to be there. Zad had seen that look more times than he could count. As color faded from Trys Aran’s face, it was all too vibrant that what she just witnessed on her comlink had cut more painfully than a bolt through the hand. Corran saw it too, and a moment later his hand was on Zad’s shoulder and his voice was in his ear.
Grasping Zad by the shoulder, the young ranger spoke in a low voice and with eyes as sharp as crystals, "Somethings not right. We've got to go after Lt. Aran."
“All right…” The outranked Ranger replied, though it was clear that no order was being given here. That face, white as a sheet... He bit his lip as he wondered what horror Trys had just glimpsed, all the while recalling Douglas’ speech. “We will come together.” When? A raised glass, a clenched glass, a smashed glass—how many would it take? Now seemed like the perfect time, and Corran’s eyes stabbed in agreement. Courtesy of his call, the bar would soon be under control. It was good work but the work did not end there. So the pair of old friends had to move now or never. “Let’s ride.”

Just then, the one-handed Twi’lek took off and the Mandalorian took off after him, both heading in the same direction of Trys, of whom Zad spotted removing her hand from a trash can on her way out. Now. The pair of Rangers sprung forth in unison. As Corran pushed through the crowd, Zad paused just long enough to dig through the trash and come out with a filled hand while horns blared from the streets outside.

By the time both Rangers were in open air, Zad glimpsed a figure heading away from the street. It was his turn to grab Corran’s shoulder, nudging him into a jog toward the alley. Reaching it, there was a Twi’lek cringing at the end, with a Mandalorian looming before him with a grapple line snaking toward his target.

“Kriff…” Zad conveyed as he discovered the pair and the Ranger who was not there. Hand, you idiot. Your hand. With that, he unfurled his fingers, gazing at what rested in his palm as though he and it were the only objects in the alley. “Her comm. She dumped it...” His superior, his friend, had shot him sharp crystals from those blue eyes. Now it was brown eyes that shot back. Zad held Trys’ comlink out to Corran. Danes. Simmons. Jethra. Dikol. Gar’gat. We will come together. “Here. Find her. We’re going after her. From this point forward, no Ranger stands alone.”



@TerranSteel
@Nor'baal
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Corran Velt

Character
Sector Ranger
Rank
Lieutenant

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TerranSteel
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Comradery when he needed it most. Zad’s simple phrase of action caused a rush of determination in the young lieutenant. Maybe Chief Hudson was right about one thing. They could rely on each other. With a couple surprised exclamations from those entering the starport bar, the milk-splattered Mandalorian took off after their wounded quarry. Corran and Zad were heading the same way and took the opportunity to push through the coming-and-going crowd.

Out in the air, the situation stayed chaotic. People were passing to and fro; trying to get to their starships or their speeders. Greeting loved ones or saying goodbye to business associates. The blond ranger swiveled his head in all directions. No sight of Trys Aran. Suddenly a firm hand gripped his shoulder and tugged him towards and alleyway. It was Ranger Ruzed taking the lead. Without hesitation, Corran followed after him at a quick pace. Perhaps he had found their wayward ranger.

Instead, they stumbled across the bounty hunter literally entangling his prey. The frontier ranger right beside Corran captured the feeling best with a curse word. We lost sight of her. It’s like she turned into vapor. The young lieutenant looked skyward, aggravated, hoping an answer would fall from the heavens. He should have looked a bit closer to earth. Zad's utterance forced his gaze downwards and there in his friend's very hand was Lt. Aran's very own comm device. Brown eyes commanded with strength of durasteel. This little device was going to be the first step in manhunt unlike any other. This time it wasn't to bring a smuggler, slaver, or murderer to justice. It would be one of their own. Corran reached out and glasped his hand securely with his partner's own. A combination of taking the comm and shaking his hand. "No Ranger stands alone," he repeated back.

There was another matter. After pocketing the comm securely, the blond ranger turned his head to nod at the roped up twi'lek and the armored man. "We can leave that to the constables or split up. An abandoned comm is a surefire sign of trouble. I'm not wasting a moment longer." He took a few steps walking backwards and gave a quick two-fingered salute. Rather casual for such a rigid person. "Let me know if you find something. I'll report in too. Good luck." With that, the former rookie took off at a near dead sprint into the crowds of Coruscant.

@Die Shize @Sreeya @Nor'baal
 

Zad Ruzed

Character
Sector Ranger
Rank
Ranger

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Die Shize
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Music OOC [Recurring]

Corran, he was a good Ranger, perhaps a better man and likely a good officer to boot. The two men were different, though, and they would use their differences to their advantage as they decided to split up in this search for souls and symbols.

“I’ll handle that,” Zad assured as he stole a look at the Mandalorian yonder. “Might be useful.” Will be useful. As Corran took his small steps for the giant leap to follow, his fellow Ranger returned the salute with a nod. “You too...Lieutenant.” He was not the first and he would not be the last, so long as both Rangers had a say in finding the other.

With that, Zad turned back to the Mando who was busy rounding up his bounty, and who wouldn’t need much guessing to know the Rangers were looking for one of their own. “Hey, Blue Milk!” That got his attention as the Ranger paced forward. “You see a woman pass through here just now?” The question felt as empty as his own interest in the Twi’lek, and sure enough her hunter all but shrugged a definite “No”. Ah well. Worth a shot. He sighed, looking around the walls. The alleyway did junction out but that meant little and less. Will be useful, Zad. Will be useful.

He turned back to the Mandalorian and stepped closer, hoping to show that he meant no harm. “Look, you know what I am, you know what my two friends are, and one of them went missing. You know that the Sector Rangers are not in the best shape right now and we can’t afford to have one of our top players go AWOL. Help me find her and you’ll be rewarded—maybe more than whatever that’s going to get you.” He gestured toward the Twi’lek.

Zad was reaching as much as the person he was talking to had reached with a grapple line, but times were as tough as time was running out, and this bounty hunter seemed like a player who might just stand up from the bench if and when the occasion called for it. His kind of people, they had tools and resources of their own. So, without much else to do, Zad held up his hand and the commlink firmly gripped in it. “Lieutenant Trys Aran. You find out anything about her, call me on this number, and I don’t give it out lightly. Heck, might be I call you instead if we need that jetpack of yours, and then some.”

All in all, the Mando had nothing to lose and a deal to gain for his cooperation. He might decline but that was well and good. Zad would have lost nothing either, though he too stood to gain, and then some.



[Exit Zad Ruzed]


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