Triter Zonne & the Fate of Yesugen

[AutoFox]

@Topher Ridge @Loco @Arclight @Nase Talsey

Prologue:
In orbit above the planet Kirima, several thousand years ago...

Spoiler: Theme

"Bi-Vanes! Keep their fighters off our tenders! We only need to hold out a little longer!"
"Khon! Urgent mayday from the Undaunted! Their armor is failing!"
Yesugen, Khonoyon of the united Ossein fleets, instinctively swiveled her helmeted head in the direction of the heavy fighter tender which anchored the flank of her besieged fleet.
"Damnable Amaxine! Tell Undaunted to fall behind their pickets! Have fresh ships from the center move out to scre-"
The light of an explosion washed over the Ossein leader, her flash goggles automatically tinting to near opacity as the Undaunted's fission cores detonated. She cursed in a dozen languages, tearing off the goggles to clear her vision.
"Where in the seven lowest hells is the Republic fleet!?"

The battle was not going Yesugen's way.
To be fair, it had not been in the Ossein leader's favor from the start. Her own guard fleet, while powerful, faced an Amaxine fleet which was its equal in terms of competency, and its superior in terms of numbers. While Yesugen's loyal Jazaq had acquitted themselves well, they were only so many, and even the most skilled warrior could only fight for so long before their fuel and blaster gas ran low, their ship began to break under the strain, and their nerves began to come apart. Their only hope, Yesugen knew, was the timely arrival of the Republic's promised reinforcements.
They were, indeed, supposed to have rendezvoused long before the battle began, but the Republic fleet was late, and the Amaxine fleet had discovered the Ossein forces before they were ready.
The Amaxine had surrounded the Ossein forces, and were slowly moving in on them. The Ossein capital ships - huge, lumbering dreadnoughts with slow, long-accelerating hyperdrives - were trapped in orbit above the planet Kirima, and an attempt at a break-out had already failed.
The only hope for the Ossein was to fight and survive for as long as possible, and hope that the Republic forces would make a timely appearance.
So far, they had not.

Yesugen slumped back in the pilot seat of her two-being pinnace, watching the swirl of Amaxine shock-fighters and Ossein bi-vanes beyond the canopy. She took off her helmet and tossed it to the floor, her space-black curls falling across her shoulders.
Fury burned in her dark eyes.
"This is intolerable." She muttered, her hands tightening on the flight stick and throttle controls before her. "You would think the Republic's precious Jedi would have foreseen the need to be on time!"
The Ossein leader turned around in her seat, looking back and down to where her co-pilot - really her sensor and comm officer - sat in his recessed compartment. He was a Rodian male, his eyes jewel red and faceted and his skin dark green, and Yesugen thought that if they both survived this, she may have to thank him personally for his service.
If they both survived.
"Report!"
The Rodian, his features cast in the phosphor green of the computer readouts and sensor screens that surrounded him, seemed to take a moment to respond.
"The... the Undaunted was completely destroyed by torpedoes, my Khon." He said. "Vaporized. We have also lost contact with 90th Fighter Wing. The dreadnought Suntease is moving to take the destroyed ship's place in formation..."
Yesugen, with a pang, remembered that her co-pilot had come from Undaunted, volunteering to serve aboard her flagship.
She interrupted him.
"Instruct Suntease to hold position, I won't have another dreadnought in the line of fire. Move up the elektrokonter Garfish, it will assume command over that flank."
The Rodian straightened and saluted in the Ossein style.
"Zar Belk, my Khon!"
Yesugen returned her attention to space as the Rodian began giving orders to the rest of the fleet on her behalf. She scanned the Amaxine siege line, trying to pick out a capital ship that could be taken.
The destruction of Undaunted had to be answered.
Unlike the Amaxine fleets - indeed, unlike the Republic Navy - Ossein warships were not, in fact, ships of war only. The Ossein were a spacefaring people, and their great ships were home not to just officers and warriors, but to merchants, artisans, families. Dreadnoughts, the largest and most powerful vessels in the Ossein fleets, were home to tens of thousands of beings.
When the Undaunted had been destroyed, Yesugen's co-pilot had not just lost friends and shipmates - bad enough - but very likely his entire extended family.
Amaxine vessels, Yesugen knew, were not likely to have children and elders aboard, but the Ossein leader would take what she could get.
"We shall make the Amaxine answer!" She declared aloud, hunching forward in her seat. "71st Fighter Wing! Form up on my lead! If you have torpedoes, make them ready!"
She gritted her teeth as her comms responded with a chorus of "Zar Belk, my Khon!" and a full wing of starfighters formed up behind her. She licked her teeth as a massive enemy ship swung out of formation to bring its cannons to bear on the Ossein vessels.
"Jazaq, I want that vessel gone! Charge!!"

Minutes later, the Amaxine battle-wagon lay burning in space, foundering in the gravity well of Kirima. The victorious Ossein streaked back toward the safety of their own fleet, trailing Amaxine shock-fighters and the angry pulse-blast bolts of enemy capital ships.
Yesugen laughed, a gleam in her eye.
"Let the Amaxine know that even a cornered beast has teeth!" She declared. "Attacks of opportunity! If you can lash out and take an enemy ship without great risk, do so! True pilots do not cower behind armor!"
She nimbly avoided a stream of bolts from a shock-fighter, looping in behind it and taking it apart with well-aimed fire. She looked back at her co-pilot, grinning.
"We may survive this after all! Ah-"
She realized for the first time that she did not even know the Rodian's name. The male, for his part, shot her a thumbs-up, smiling up at her...
...and then, suddenly, he was gone.
The little combat pinnace rocked, the explosion of an impacting pulse-blast bolt shearing into it. Yesugen had a brief vision of the rodian being consumed by a sudden ball of fire, and there was a sensation like a hot blade slicing into her, before the emergency bulkhead slammed shut between the two cockpits. Yesugen was thrown forward against her crash harness, and then slammed back into her seat...
Her vision swam, and she looked around out of her cockpit as ships swirled around her.
She groped for the controls, leaning forward to take them, and gave a cry of pain as she did so.
She looked down at herself, and her eyes grew wide.
Sticking out of a rapidly darkening patch on her flight suit was a jagged metal spike, a piece of shrapnel. Dimly, she realized that it must have come through the back of her seat, and she reached down to touch it.
A metallic taste was starting to fill her mouth.
"G-Gods." She managed. "That's... n-not good..."
She reached again for the controls of her ship, sucking in a painful breath as she did so. The spear of jagged metal had run her through, pinning her in her seat through her middle. She realized that she couldn't feel her lower half, and when she tried to press on the pedals at her feet, her legs refused to move.
The taste in her mouth was getting stronger.
They got me.
Yesugen's vision was beginning to blur around the edges. She reached out and flipped on the comm, bypassing her dead co-pilot's station.
"A-Attention, attention." She said, her teeth gritted, fighting to steady her voice. "This is Yesugen. I have been hit... hit badly. I will not survive. I pass command to... t-to-"
She could feel her focus getting harder to maintain, and gave a growl of frustration.
"Oh KARK it!"
Yesugen's gaze fell to a leather pouch on the side of her pilot seat. She reached down, unsnapping its buttons and fumbling for something inside, while the other hand manipulated her ship's flight stick.
Even bleeding to death and half paralyzed, she could still fly.
Withdrawing something from the pouch, the Ossein leader reached up with the same hand and switched her ship's comm from Ossein frequencies to full spectrum.
"Attention all you of the Amaxine fleet."
Warm, iron-tasting fluid was leaking down Yesugen's chin now. She ignored it.
"I shall not concede! Look not for a trophy of victory, for I place my bones beyond your reach!"
With that, the Khonoyon of all the Ossein snapped off her comm, and shoved the object she had taken from the pouch - a datapunch - into a slot in her navicomputer.
Grimly, she thanked the stars for having a contingency. Death, she vowed, would not stop what she had to do in its eventuality.
As Yesugen lost consciousness, she smiled, watching as the stars elongated, and gave way to the infinity of hyperspace...

In space above the planet Kirima, present day.

Triter Zonne breathed a sigh of relief as the tunnel of hyperspace faded into star-lines outside his cockpit canopy, and then into the familiar panorama of stars above the luminous crescent of the planet below.
"Well thank kark that's over... there must be a way to make this trip in under 12 parsecs."
The Amaran pilot reached out to switch on his ship's comm unit, looking at the sensor readouts.
"Kirima Aerospace Control, this is Nova Luck, S-100 Stinger-class under civil registration KX222-DC1. Requesting landing clearance at Verena City spaceport."
There was a brief warble as the ship's computer and the starport exchanged information, and then a modulated voice replied.
"Nova Luck this is Kirima Aerospace Control. You are clear for landing at docking bay 4 at Verena City Interstellar. Please follow vector 225-028."
The vector flashed up on Triter's sensor scope, and the Amaran nodded to himself, setting the controls with relief for his landing. The tiny fighter was no good for long-range star-flight.
"Copy KAC, making my vector 225-028. Will be down shortly."
The Amaran settled back, letting the autopilot take over, and trying to remember why the name of the planet seemed familiar to him...

 

[Nase Talsey]

Sue "Rooster" Cogburn had arrived at Verena City 2 weeks ago as a passenger on a nondescript passenger liner. While something of a celebrity in the professional fighting circuits of the Outer Rim, he was almost unrecognizable amongst the other passengers with his hooded cowl and full-beard. It was the off-season, he should be back on Contruum training or on Dantooine visiting his mother, however he had other responsibilities. 19 days ago, local security forces discovered a human male in the stairwell of an abandoned warehouse near Verena City's docks. He had been the victim of Junders Plunkett a notorious pirate and raider, whose bounty offer was found in the dead man's duster...

A notice to all Regulators seeking justice in the Mid Rim: Let it be known that the murderous Devaronian known as Junders Plunkett, of red complexion, average height, two horns, and missing one good eyeball, is offered for bounty, either dead or alive, in the sum of 20,000 credits or similar compensation.
Junders Plunkett was last seen committing theft and murder in the city of Verena, on Kirima. The apprehending person(s) should exercise special caution, as the bountied personage is noted for an uncommon aptitude with small, concealable blades.​

Cogburn folded his copy of the flimsiplast bounty notice and returned it to the inside pocket of his duster. He was sitting at a tap-cafe near the city Docks. As he scanned the bustling walkways he consumed a light breakfast of caf and a local egg dish. He considered once again how Junders had gotten the drop on Regulator Sonora. Junders must have lured him into a tight space, ambushed him in a stairwell. Cogburn had never met Regulator Sonora, but they took care of their own, in life and death. Their organization had a reputation of responding to the death of a member with a vengeance. Cogburn had been one of the closest Regulators to Kirima when the call of vengeance for Sonora had been sent. Regulator Kublai, an imposing whipid had also been close enough to respond immediately. The two had met in orbit and conceived a plan in which Kublai would impersonate a Whipid mercenary and attempt to make contact with Junders. Cogburn on the other hand would be in full regulator gear and would be very noticeably investigating the death of a comrade. The goal was for Kublai and Junders to 'ambush' Cogburn, after which Junders would be arrested and taken back to Regulator HQ to be used as a training dummy for a few weeks before the bounty is collected.

In the two weeks Cogburn had been in the city he had played the part of incompetent investigator well. He had made no attempts at even the hint of subtlety, loudly announcing his intentions the first evening at a cantina. He then made a show of flashing his regulator badge to the security forces whom he made demands that they give him resources to conduct the investigation. It went on and on like that for days, as he visited and revisited the warehouse district, where Junders was most definitely not still hiding there.

"Excuse me, sir?" A young child's voice made Rooster turn his head. He saw a poor looking boy of perhaps 6 or 7 looking fearfully at him.
"Go on, speak up boy." Replied Rooster gruffly.
"You're the regulator everyone's talking about. My Pa has something to tell you."
"And what's that son?"
"I don't know, he just told me to find you. He's down at the docks, he saw what happened to your friend."
Cogburn feigned surprise even though he was smiling to himself. He thought he had been bad at the cloak and dagger stuff, but this scheme pathetically obvious.
"Your dad knows what happened to Sonora? Lets go kid!"

.....

45 minutes later, it was all over. Junders was unconscious and in handcuffs. It had shaken down much like Cogburn had suspected. It had been a trap with the boy leading him to "his Pa" who turned out to just be a thug with a slugthrower. Cogburn had gunned him down where he stood. Cogburn was then hit with a stun blast from behind and was dropped to his knees. Junders, Kublai and two other cronies revealed themselves and Cogburn had to endure 2 full minutes of gloating and bragging by Junders before Kublai grabbed Junders' men and cracked their heads together. Junders had plunged his small knives into the Whipid's torso but the alien's fur, blubber and muscles meant they had only caused superficial damage. That was small consolation to the Devaronian murderer who was subsequently knocked unconscious by the Whipid's backhand.

 

[Fantasy Liver]

"Xam, it's been an absolute pleasure as always." Moku the nomadic Jedi told the Neimoidian outside his starfighter, his sarcasm evident. Xam Haanlok was an ill-tempered, brutish, and opportunistic being who was not loved, even among his even more thuggish associates. He called himself a treasure hunter, although "grave robber" was a more accurate term. Nevertheless, Moku trusted the Neimoidian.

Long ago, Moku had saved the creature's life and, to his credit, Xam always tried to pay him back ever since, giving him tips about Sith artifacts that his fellow tomb raiders had uncovered or any Sith archaeological expeditions that were underway. A week ago, he had contacted Moku and told him that he had recently trespassed on an ancient Jedi meditation chamber in catacombs buried below Verena City. Moku had no doubt that Xam had pilfered everything of the remotest value in the chamber but the Neimoidian did offer seven holocrons and a powered-down but still functioning lightsaber training droid to Moku and the Jedi Order. While the Council seemed hesitant to send Moku on what was essentially a carrier mission, especially with a war going on and the Jedi no longer at the strength they once were, Moku had been itching to leave Dantooine for awhile. Besides, these holocrons might prove to have a useful secret or technique that might help gain an edge over the Sith and the training droid would certainly be useful.

As he was finishing up cramming the crate full of holocrons and the folded up droid in what little cargo capacity his Antarian Starfighter had, he was about to turn and give a slight nod of farewell to Xam before hearing sounds of combat and commotion.

"'Scuse me Xam - this sounds like it could be Jedi business." Moku said. The Neimoidian snorted and muttered something about "everything is Jedi business to you freaks" and started hurrying away from the small loading dock that the Jedi starfighter was docked. Gingerly making his way towards the docking area where Kublai and Cogburn were putting the finishing touches upon a grisly scene.

"Excuse me gentlemen but what goes on here?" Moku said, resting his hand on his lightsaber hilt. It was a brutal looking crime scene but the Whiphid and Human had the look of people who were supposed to be there so it was worth asking questions before starting to swing his lightsaber.

 

[Nase Talsey]

Kublai noticed the approaching Rodian first, his trained eyes performing an ocular pat-down. "Rooster, Jedi coming." He said as he noticed the lightsaber at the jedi's belt.
Coming to his senses, Rooster Cogburn squinted his eyes, trying to focus on the approaching figure. His gaze finally found the telltale polished metal of a lightsaber, the trademark weapon of the jedi and their sith counterparts. "Alright, I'll do the talking." He replied to Kublai as he straightened himself and gave a half wave to the Rodian.

"Well, howdy-doo master Jedi." Said Cogburn somewhat sarcastically. He was irritated that the jedi's hand had conspicuously dropped to his weapon. "We're just performing our share of law-bringing to these parts. The deceased offenders are known affiliates of the unconscious devaronian named Junders Plunkett. He's got a sizable bounty and matching crime spree and he killed the first man we sent after him." Cogburn fished around for his badge before producing it from a pocket. "My partner and I are Regulators, mercenary law-men and bounty hunters, I'd give you a flyer but I think I gave it to that kid whose dad just got gunned down.." Cogburn paused for a moment and furrowed his brow. "Maybe we should stop putting our address and contact information on those.."

"We have bounty letter." added Kublai who waved the flimsiplast document for emphasis.

 

[Fantasy Liver]

The Rodian Jedi Knight peered over the flisiplast bounty letter carefully, making sure that all was as it appeared to be. Xam had casually mentioned these "Regulators" while conducting their transaction and Moku had heard a few references to them over his travels but he couldn't honestly say he'd encountered any before now. He grinned as much as his Rodian physiology allowed him too. This would be a most enlightening experience - he always loved meeting new groups of people, especially in some of the more...underground elements of society.

"Well, this seems to all be in order. Sorry to both-" Moku began before feeling a tremor that rolled through his body, like the wind in a meadow. He took a step back and closed his eyes. The Force was mysterious and indescribable but Moku could recognize certain patterns. There was no doubt in his mind that the Force wanted him here with these people. He did not know why or what for but he sensed that it would be revealed in time if he continued to be around these two Regulators. Not wanting to confuse or frighten the two justice-seekers, Moku took a step forward and handed the bounty letter back to Kublai.

"Sorry - I have a slight headache." Moku lied, rubbing his temple to emphasize his point. "As I was saying, this all seems to be in order but would it be alright if I accompanied you to wherever you intend to go with the Devaronian's body? My name is Moku by the way. Moku of the Jedi Order." Moku said, wanting to continue to follow this trail that the Force had laid before him.

 

[Topher Ridge]

The blue void of hyperspace slowly faded into the white lines and then star scape of normal space. The Jedi didn't have a particular use for the Justicar at the moment so he figured he take a bit of time for himself and explore some of the space around the Naboo system. A short jump landed him in the Kirima system. He angled his Antarian starfighter toward the planet Kirima and made contact with the local officials. After a moment he was instructed to head for landing bay 5 of Verena City Interstellar, which he acknowledged.

The landing was smooth enough and he stepped off and dropped the official a few credits as he came to inspect Barad's ship. He noticed another fighter sized ship land in the bay adjacent to his, but didn't really think much of it, though the force did flow oddly around it. Particularly the pilot. It wasn't a Jedi ship or a Sith ship for that matter. Curious. He exited the landing pad and stepped into the space port proper. He blended in with the crowd well enough and he waited for the pilot in the next landing bay to emerge. He was too curious at this point and had to know a bit more about whoever it was.

@AutoFox

 

[Arcangel]

Caedryn groaned, light pulsing behind his eyes as he clammered his way out of the gripping jaws of sleep. A rising burning sensation filled his chest, and he scrabbled across the bed, sheets tangling in his arms as he tried to clear the edge of the bed. Coming short, bile spilled out of his mouth to pool on the beige sheets. Spitting, he pushed himself up, straining to lift his leaden body off the spoiled bed. Sitting up, he grabbed the nearest object, a pillow, and wiped the semi clean material against his puke lined lips and chin.

His eyes took in the room, a dingy little apartment. Metal walls and metal floor, a pre fabricated apartment. Clothes lay on top of and around what appeared to be a hamper, as far as Caedryn could make out. A faint, familiar tingling filled the back of his pounding head, worming it's way through the fog of his hangover. Womans trousers and a greasy workmans jacket. Groaning, his head lulled to the right, wincing at the morning light filtering in through the alleyway facing window.

"Awww, shit." Caedryn mumbled as his eyes moved down to the redheaded housewife, a nearly empty bottle of liquor tucked under her arm, the remaining liquid pooled in the side under the level of the bottleneck. The room reeked of liquor, the rum soaked bed overpowering the smell of factory gear. Pushing past the fog in his brain, Caedryn tried to remember the night before. Nothing. Pushing farther back, he remembered drinking on a transport to Concordia with a few of his closest men, to fulfill a bet.

"Not good." He lurched out, as he tumbled over to grasp at the bottle of rum in the woman's armpit. Sliding it out from under it's cage, Caedryn touched the tip of the bottle to his lips, willing himself to... he didn't know. With an upwards lift, he poured some of the liquor down his throat. Fighting the urge to puke, he stumbled out of the bed and cast about for his clothes. Pants, armorweave flightsuit, belted and open at the waist, vibro sword and blaster at his hips. A dingy white undershirt came on as he heard the doorway swoosh open.

"What the kri-" "PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR" Caedryns pained roar overpowering the incredulous worker as he pressed the bottle against his roaring head, the Sunspear heavy blaster pistol leaping to point at the man. "Jus-just go over there." Waving the weapon at the other end of the small room. The man complying, they awkwardly shuffled around the room, feet pushing through strewn bottles and clothing. Halfway to the door, he felt something roll under foot, the world seemed to tumble for a minute as Caedryn regained his footing. As soon as both feet were under him, he bolted for the door, slamming into the corridor wall outside before stumbling down the hallway as fast as his uncoordinated feet would take him.

Stumbling into the street, he strained through the blinding pain to the gather his surroundings. A dirty apartment slum situated near the spaceport, indicated by the starship engine whose roaring pierced his skull. Struggling into the tanned leather jacket that he somehow managed to come up with it in his hands during the tumble, he reached into the batha hide pockets and pulled out a pair of darkened shades and a t'bac stick, the gun returning to it's holster as he drew on the autolighting stick. Strolling with a pained grimace on his face, Caedryn shook his head. "Where in Ha'rangir's name am i?" Recognizing absolutely nothing about the planet as he made his way to the spaceport.

@AutoFox

 

[AutoFox]

@Nase Talsey @Fantasy Liver @Topher Ridge @Arclight @Loco


There was a fundamental difference, Triter remarked to himself as he descended through Kirima's atmosphere, between planets which were the home-world of a sentient species, and planets which were settled after said species achieved interstellar or even merely interplanetary travel.
Planets which had been the cradle of civilizations tended to be less tidy, more densely populated. Thousands of years of technological, social and even biological change were layered on top of one-another in a chaotic heap, sprawling out over the landscape. Though some such planets still had true wilderness, it was more common that - currently, or in the past - every nook and cranny of a world's surface would have been inhabited at some point. Things were unplanned, or adapted to some later plan, which was in turn adapted to even later ones, ad infinitum. Thousands, millions of years of people moving across the surface of their own world, shaping it to suit their countless little lives.
Frontier worlds - or at least, worlds which had once been frontiers - were different.
Kirima was a planet which - while old enough to have its own monarchy and well-established urban centers - had been settled by beings from the Core, and was not indeed subject to the kind of random layering of history that home-worlds were. The original settlers had had a plan, and that plan had been overlaid onto everything that followed, directly or indirectly. Whereas a home-world would have had cities, towns, villages and hamlets scattered across all corners of its surface in accordance with organic population movement and chance, Kirima had only a handful of population centers, all surveyed millennia ago by long-dead scouts, and all built as the needs of the colony declared. While these cities were now thriving, for the most part, and their citizens were for the most part happy or at least content, the vast majority of the planet did not bear the marks of sentient development in any form. Beyond the cities and their few satellite communities, the planet was a wilderness.
On a pre-spaceflight world, this wilderness would have almost certainly been settled long ago. But having come from the stars, the people of Kirima knew they could return to them. If they did not like their lives on Kirima, rather than venturing out into the wilderness to found a new town which would almost certainly be a vassal to the community they had just escaped, most would leave the planet entirely.
This was what Triter thought of as he watched the neat, ordered grid of Verena City roll by beneath his ship, as he moved in toward the spaceport. As he approached, he set his landing controls, extending gear and finding docking bay 4 in the circular duracrete structure.
It would be good to get his feet on solid ground again.

As the little fighter settled onto its gear, Triter powered down most of its systems, although not all the way. Experience that leaving a ship prepped for "hot scramble" was often a good idea, especially in an unfamiliar place.
The Amaran had never visited Kirima before, but there were enough worlds along the Outer Rim that a being could live a thousand lifetimes and never see them all. Kirima, the brochures said, was a lovely place, replete with natural wonders, humble, hard-working citizens, and ruled by a benevolent constitutional monarchy.
It could have been any one of a dozen worlds Triter had visited, really. Not that it mattered very much; he intended to stay only long enough to rest, get his starfighter fueled and serviced, and perhaps spend a few credits at the local cantina.
A service droid arrived, pushing a ladder up to the side of Triter's ship. Popping the canopy, he swung out and climbed down it.
He stopped mid-way down, his large ears perking as the shadow of a ship passed overhead, on its way to an adjacent docking bay. He looked up at it, shading his eyes from the sun.
He closed his eyes.
Triter knew he had a little of what the Jedi called "the Force," although Triter knew words for it in a dozen languages besides Basic that had other meanings. He had never bothered to learn just how strong he was in it, but he had picked up the rudiments of how to use it, or at least how to listen. It sometimes warned him of danger, and told him of things his eyes and ears missed.
He realized, suddenly, that the ship was not the only "ping" he felt.
His attention was diverted downward, through the open blast door that separated docking bay 4 from the adjoining bay. Inside were three standing beings, apparently in conversation with one-another, while several beings sat on the duracrete, apparently stun-cuffed.
The Amaran squinted at one of them, a Devaronian, as he descended the rest of the ladder.
"Waaaait..."
Triter began walking at a brisk pace toward the small group. He recognized the unconscious Devaronian, and his blood began to boil.
"...Junders!" He said, nearly snarling the name. "Of all the ways I could finally get my hands on you... hey!"
He turned to the group. Two of them had the look of bounty hunters, and the third...
...the glint of a lightsaber hilt made the Amaran bristle a little. He was no Sith sympathizer, but he was wary of Jedi, something that came with his Ossein heritage.
"Which one of you is responsible for laying this freak out?!"

 

[Loco]

"I'm Dax Quix, and this is Space Lane."

"..."

"..."


"Please smile Mr Quix."

"I am smiling." Dax forced through gritted teeth.

"Oh, my apologies sir! it very much appeared to be a grimace. Do forgive me!" The holo-recorder droid droned as it bobbed up and down on its repulsors in what Dax assumed was a conciliatory motion.

"Don't worry about it. Did we get the shot?" He waved off the DR-3C-TR's apologies with a heavy sigh as the light of holo-recorder flicked off.

"I believe that last recording is well within acceptable parameters sir, although with your permission and with time permitting I would very much like to experiment with various lighting options, and perhaps we could attempt a reshoot from a..."

"Great!" He cut the droid short, knowing that it could go on forever talking about lighting and camera angles and getting his "good side" and audience perceptions and who knew what else. Dax stripped off his flight gloves and dropped off the ladder he had been poised on, repeatedly grimacing into the camera as he recited the intro to the docu-special they were filming. He lovingly patted the underbelly of his gleaming red BVR-9 as a service droid wheeled the ladder away- he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about all this filming, but at least the studio had cut him some slack and let him get behind the stick for some of the recreation shots. Dax scanned around to get a good look at the dingy space port they had landed in. Kirima? He'd never heard of the place, but that wasn't surprising. You could spend your whole life doing the mid and outer rim circuits and never hit every system, much less every planet. At this point he knew only three things about Kirima. For one, it wasn't home to any significant races. Two, for some reason his sponsors had an interest in the place anyway. And three... it was just like every other place in three sectors. Down to the public brawls and bounty hunters welcoming you at the space port.

 

[Nase Talsey]

While the Rodian examined the bounty letter, Rooster Cogburn took a moment to size up the jedi. The rodian appeared middle-aged and well built. There was a solidness in the way that the Rodian stood that suggested a level of fitness and strength. However, all in all, the Rodian looked surprisingly normal, indistinguishable aside from the lightsaber at his belt. From the stories of the Jedi you could be forgiven for believing that they had a visible aura of 'good.' Despite their vaunted reputation across the galaxy, they were not as numerous as the proliferation of their exploits would suggest. There were countless sentients who went their entire lives without even being on the same planet as a jedi, let alone seeing one. It was a novelty for Cogburn, who had never crossed paths with one before. He was curious if they lived up to their expectation..

Amid the roar of starships landing nearby, the jedi seemed as mortal as any other sentient Cogburn had come across. The Regulator raised as eyebrow in question when the jedi returned the bounty letter to Kublai and then almost stumbled, overcome by a 'headache.'

"That's quite alright." Cogburn said in reply to the Rodians apology. He was surprised that the Jedi would take interest in the situation, especially as it had already been resolved with the perpetrator in cuffs. "Uh, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance Master Jedi. I'm Rooster Cogburn, and the muscle is Kublai. You're more than welcome to accompany us to City Security for processing, but I don't think he'll be causing any problems anytime soon and, with respect, I think this guy is a little below your attention."

Though Cogburn had introduced him to the jedi, Kublai had been distracted by the swift approach of a small, furry, bushy-tailed creature. Kublai wondered if it was some exotic pet that had escaped its masters after being dressed in a child's flightsuit. However it's sentience was proven by the surprisingly loud demands that the creature began barking as he got within a dozen feet of the now growing party. Cogburn and Kublai fixed their attention on the Amaran.

"I hit him, Rooster was bait." Rumbled Kublai in response to the Amaran's query.
His pride a bit stung by being described as 'bait.' Cogburn hastily interrupted and changed the subject. "As we just finished explaining to the Jedi, we're Regulators, pursuing a valid bounty against a known criminal within the confines of the law."

 

[Fantasy Liver]

Oh. Perhaps.

Perhaps this small, foxlike being before them was the reasoning behind the momentary Force tremor that Moku had just experienced. He could certainly feel a faint echo of the Force within the Amaran and Moku had travelled as a Jedi for far too long to believe in coincidence. While he couldn't be certain if this Amaran was responsible for whatever the Force was guiding him towards, he would trust his instincts and see what he had to do with whatever event the Force was pulling him towards.

"Indeed." Moku confirmed Rooster's words with a nod. "I certainly hope this Devaronian wasn't a friend of yours, my Amaran friend. By all accounts, he seems to have been a nasty piece of work."

"My name is Moku and these fine gentlemen are Rooster and Kublai. I'm with the Jedi Order and I've just concluded a mission for them. Before I left this planet though, I was just about to accompany these two to a bounty office. Can I ask what your business is here? Apologies but you don't exactly have the air of a local." Moku asked Triter, having long since honed an ability to peg someone who did not belong to a certain place during his many travels.

 

[Arcangel]

Bare feet scraping against the duracrete slab ground, Caedryn swigged deeply from the swiftly emptying bottle of rum. Cheap rum. Shaking his head, he wondered why it was always the cheap stuff he woke up with. What he wouldn't give for a bottle of Whyren's just now. Stubbing out the embers of his t'bac stick with his bare foot against the duracrete, Caedryn winced, the unwelcome pain reminding him that he was alive.

Stumbling around an alley corner, scabbard clattering against alley wall, Caedryn's eyes widened as they took in the scene before him. Men strewn about the alley, dead or unconscious. A man and a Whiphid talking unconcernedly over the corpses with a... Jedi. Caedryn's mind instinctively focused, sealing away the aura of himself. If the Jedi did sense him before he could conceal himself in the force, the Jedi would sense great pride, and great pain. A man teetering on the edge of darkness.

"Ahem." Clearing his throat loudly to gain their attention. "Good evening, morning... afternoon? Whatever time it is." approaching slowly with his hands raised, bottle hanging loosely in his left hand. "Don't mind me gentlemen, master Jedi." kicking the flat of his foot against one of the fallen men's boot soles, comparing sizes. "Just a little bit of shopping, no need to concern ourselves in each others busine- Aha!" Finding a match, Caedryn quickly crouched down, undoing the fastenings on the dead man's boots. Pulling them off roughly, he was about to start shoving his feet in the newly acquired foot wear, before suddenly stopping after glancing up.

"By the gods. Triter Zone." Hopping up to his feet and closing the distance between himself and the Amaren. "How you been you old pirate! It's been ages. Care for a nip?" Brushing past the Jedi and Bounty Hunters to get to the little pilot, offering the nearly empty bottle of rum do the pirate. "Don't tell me you forgot about me, Caedryn Vizsla."

 

[AutoFox]

@Loco @Nase Talsey @Fantasy Liver @Arclight


Triter looked up at the two bounty hunters and narrowed his eyes. He had heard of the Regulators, "freelance police" was the most common descriptor he had heard, and the young Amaran had never been on the best terms with police. In his experience, law enforcement tended to behave like any other gang, most of the time.
But, he straightened, leveling his glare at the unconscious Devaronian. At the Jedi's comments, he wuffed under his breath, shaking his head and sighing.
"You could say we were the opposite of friends." He replied. "Ol' Junders put in some time with the Lessers cartel in the Wazta sector. He was in charge of their shock fleet, last I heard of him."
He turned toward the Jedi.
"He sent a lot of people I cared about on their final jump. I'd hoped he was at least dead already. I'd be mollified if he goes away for a long, long time, though."
He pondered the Jedi's question as to why he was here. Briefly, he considered telling the Knight to mind his own business, but the Jedi could be a persistent lot.
"I'm just passing through." He said honestly, nodding over his shoulder toward the hangar he had come from, where a service droid holding a datapad was looking back at him, a bit lost after his abrupt departure to the other hangar, as it awaited him to sign travel documents and tell it what he wished done for his ship. "Wanted to get my ship serviced and maybe stay in a hotel rather than my pilot seat. I-"
"By the gods. Triter Zonne."
Triter looked up just in time to have a bottle shoved into his face. He blinked in surprise, peering up at the human male, who continued speaking.
"How you been you old pirate! It's been ages. Care for a nip? Don't tell me you forgot about me, Caedryn Vizsla."
Triter ignored the bottle, raising his eyebrows incredulously.
"Caedryn?!"
His muzzle split in a grin. He swiped the bottle and, as offered, took a pull of its remaining contents.
"You merc bastard! What's an ugly mug like yours doing in a beautiful place like this? How've ya been!"

 

[Topher Ridge]

Barad watched as the pilot he was curious about revealed himself soon afterward as he rushed off toward another hangar. It was an Amaran male by the look of him. Barad followed the flow of the crowd to keep an eye on the little guy only to see him approach a gathered group. They seemed to all be crowded around the prone forms of some unlucky losers of a scuffle. The male Devaronian caught his eye in particular as he had the look a hardened criminal. Barad was now even more curious, when then another; obviously drunk of his ass, showed himself.

Barad for now decided to hold back, though from what he could tell beside the Amaran man, there were at least another few force sensitives gathered in the group. He'd keep an eye on them through the crowd though he didn't pull back his own force signature, he was curious what would happen next.

@AutoFox, @Fantasy Liver, @Arclight, @Nase Talsey, @Loco

 

[Fantasy Liver]

Moku nodded casually to the new mercenary arrival. It would seem that this unconscious Devaronian had brought together a collection of hired guns and tough customers. It was to be expected, Moku supposed, with the violence that came about being a man like Junders and the bounty seekers that were attracted to a person like him. Moku did not feel out of place, though. His travels had made him the acquaintance of far worse characters than the ones before him now.

"Best be on the move. This Junders won't stay unconscious forever." Moku said, using his bulk to deadlift Junders and fireman carry him to wherever the bounty office was.

 

[Nase Talsey]

If two was company and three's a crowd then Rooster Figured they had enough in their little gathering to enact serious political reforms if they all yelled loud enough. A diverse coalition had assembled around the stil unconscious criminal. A Human, a Whipid, a Rodian, an Amaran, and a Mando all met over a bounty, it was like the beginning of a bad joke.
As the small sentient and pungent mandalorian caught up, Rooster turned to Kublai and said softly. "This guy's a friggin magnet. Let's get him out of here." His Whipid friend nodded quickly but before he could reach down for their captive, Moku moved first, suggesting that they make a break for it.

"Uh, yeah that's right.." Said Rooster slowly as the Rodian hefted up the Devaronian. Rooster wondered if the Jedi, Moku, had sensed something and was springing into action. Rooster shot a look to Kublai and nodded towards the jedi. "Well gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, but we've got work to do." Said Rooster before he hustled off with Kublai to catch up with the Rodian jedi. He silently hoped that the jedi wasn't trying to edge in on their bounty.

"Thanks for carrying the cargo, but you really don't need too. The local station's a couple blocks up this thoroughfare." Said Rooster motioning forward to a street with heavier foot and speeder traffic.

 

[Arcangel]

"Ugly mug!" Shouting in faux distress, Caedryn brought a hand up to frame his face. "I'd think that if anything I'm bringing up the property values just by gracing this place with my presence." Laughing. "So where is this place anyways? I seem to have a uhh... a gap in my memory." Scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he admitted he had no clue what planet he was on.

Watching out of the corner of his eye as the bounty hunters and Jedi made their way out of the alley, Caedryn hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the trio. "So what's the story, never knew you as one to hang out with a Jedi!" Laughing at the prospect, he reached out and fished the bottle put of Triters hand. About to take another swig, he stopped suddenly. A nagging feeling in the back of his head roared to life.

Glancing down the alleyway at the strange group just as the whine of a high powered blaster echoed through the air. A scarlet bolt whizzed by one of the bounty hunter's heads to slam into the alley wall. Whoever the sniper was had jumped the gun, their itchy trigger finger ruining the shot. Realizing their mistake the shooter began to fire rapidly from his rooftop vantage. The trio were framed in the alley entrance, easy targets.

@AutoFox, @Fantasy Liver, @Topher Ridge, @Nase Talsey, @Loco

 

[AutoFox]

Triter grinned, laughing and shaking his head. "Kirima." He frowned, briefly rubbing his chin in contemplation. He knew the name, some part of the history lessons the great Krayd Hasperre had made him memorize...
He was distracted by what else the other mercenary had to say, and chuckled, glancing over at the Jedi, and at the two other beings, one of whom was slinging Junders over their shoulder.
"Oh, I got loads of Jedi friends. Right, Master Jedi?" He shook his head. "Nah, I just happened to see them hauling off that bastard, and decided I should pay my disrespect."
He smirked at the unconscious Devaronian.
"Knew him from before we met. Won't be sorry to see him go away for a long, long..."
His brain suddenly caught up to him, and he closed his eyes in sudden realization.
"Kirima! Now I remember why this dirtball is familiar! It's-"
Triter was shocked out of his revelation by the *spang* of a blaster bolt off a nearby garbage container. He ducked behind a piece of discarded machinery on instinct, letting out a string of curses in mixed Bocce and Huttese, and drawing the heavy blaster pistol he carried. As bolts began spattering the alley, he poked the weapon up over his cover and began to return fire.
Whatever the sniper was using, it was powerful, but old. Triter could not mistake the warbling report of an antique pulse-blast rifle, and the bolts set flying at the group were jagged and sparked impressively wherever they hit.
"...kark it, what now!!"

 

[Topher Ridge]

Barad didn't have to wait long to find out what was in store next for the group. After a brief chat the Rodian that was among the group, gathered up the Devaronian and started away. Two of the others would follow, one scruffy looking human and a massive Whipid. They had to look of bounty hunters, but seemed to carry themselves with a bit more class. After looking closer at their garb he recognized the classic trench coat of the Regulators on the human. He turned his gaze back to the Amaran and the drunkard to see them sharing a friendly chat and a few swigs from a bottle. He couldn't quite make out what was being said over the sound of the street traffic however.

The Jusiticar was just about to leave the scene as he figured he'd seen anything of interest, when a odd blaster bolt suddenly struck a trash collection bin. The bin exploded and the street suddenly descended into chaos. The group ducked into cover as more whining shots rained down the alley entrance. Barad was covered by the building he'd chosen to lean on. It seemed that the shooter was somewhere directly above him. He poked his head past the awning above him and confirmed as he saw the barrel spewing plasma on the group. Barad wanted to help but he couldn't get an angle on the shooter from here. The panic of the crowd wasn't much help either as beings shouted and ran for cover to escape the wild shots. Barad pressed closer to the building to avoid the crush of the crowd.

As the street began to empty the Jedi began to search for ways to help the group. However above the group just above the alley, another shooter appeared and took aim directly down at the group. They were wide open. Barad quickly drew his lightbow Hawkbat, took aim, and loosed a piercing bolt of plasma into the 2nd shooter. His aim was true and the attacker was struck in the side, lost his balance, and fell from the roof. His fall would end right beside the Amaran behind his cover. With the street emptying Barad risked calling out to the group.

"Hey no time to explain but watch the rooftops! There may be more coming!"

Barad kept his eyes on the rooftops and hoped they could handle the first sniper.

@AutoFox, @Arclight, @Nase Talsey, @Loco, @Fantasy Liver

 

[Fantasy Liver]

Moku let loose a colorful swear that the Council would certainly not approve of. Ducking into an alley, he set Junders' body down and hoped that the Devaronian would not awaken and bolt. Igniting his blue blade, the Rodian Jedi leapt up onto the roof of one of the buildings surrounding the alley.

"Stay down!" he called to his newfound travelling companions. They might be a set of...unscrupulous characters but he certainly didn't want any of them to be hurt. Even the Mandalorian. Besides, he always found the more colorful characters the most interesting to talk to. Jedi could be a tad tedious sometimes.

Landing on the roof, Moku prepared to deflect the inevitable fire back into the shooter. Eyes darting, hoping to catch sight of one or more attackers, Moku would seek to nonlethally deflect the bolts if it was possible, wanting to seek answers as to why their party had just been attacked. Though he was under attack, the Rodian Jedi still felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that following his instincts had paid off. Already, the Force was leading him to something big enough to be attacked over.