Viled Clutches

[Gunner Stahl]

.

Seemed that the Imperial and the Jedi had found themselves in bit of a pickle here. Captured initially while attempting a mission and now almost freeing himself from the clutches aboard the transport vessel, the duo fell prey to slavers on Tatooine. He could tell the desert landscape from the raw heat and the small window that crept in the cell he was placed within. No luxuries of any kind, air was stifling and laced with unbearable dryness. None of his armaments were present, and so for now he sat on the over-heated rock that shaped itself into a bench. Clothes ragged and his appearance sullied from several days of unshaved and lack of sanitation.

Hands were clasped together in shackles; thoughts went for the Jedi, wondering what was here fate on this planet. Though, that all changed when he heard the casual hum of a slaver guard patrolling through the cells. Lofting a brow, Gunner immersed himself in thoughts for a few moments before assuming a fetal position on the ground. Almost as if it was fake but loud enough to sound true, he began to cry out in pain. "GUARD!" He roared, "My insides hurt!!"

@Narsi

 

[The Storyteller]

Ah, a good day this had been for Suzin-Ral. He and his men had caught a grand prize for the pens, one that would sell very nicely. And even better, he had gotten a good haul just from the foolish humans gear alone, Like the disruptor pulse wave rifle he was currently inspecting, the Barabel aiming it about his lavish quarters happily. Oh yes indeed, he'd be keeping most of this fine equipment for himself, it would go nicely with his flamethrower. Standing up, the burly lizard made his way to his drink cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Raxus Rum, his finest bottle. Taking a swig, he went back and collapsed back onto his chair, flipping on his holo screen as he did so. Surely his men would be fine taking care of business for a while, he had to celebrate, there was a dozen of them after all.

Two floors below however, one of the three slavers currently on guard, the one making the rounds...had heard the protesting captive. The slaver quickly rushed into the room, moving to the cell door and looking in. The slaver stood there for a moment, somewhat indecisive before shrugging and opening up the door with his key ring. While unarmored, he had a stun baton and a blaster with him, while the prisoner was obviously sick and unarmed. Stepping in, the slaver came to the realization that he didn't really know what to do, and he turned briefly to call for his fellow slavers. The Warden wouldn't be happy to lose some potential profits...though maybe they could still harvest and sell the cybernetics?
@Faded Truth