Author Topic: CRIME AND PUNISHMENT  (Read 24190 times)

Offline SWSF Eidolon

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« Reply #15 on: May 29, 2014, 07:22:34 PM »

The Huntress I.VII

     The Beshtek was considerably smaller than the Kla'tajjdag,  though it rose far above the artificial surface levels in the District of it's location, a posh commercial and faux-dignified area of Nar Shaddaa, popular amongst off-worlders, known as The Island.  It was in the heart of Besadii territory on the ancient city-moon, though all clans were welcome to operate there- at a tribute of course.  It was not a seat and symbol of power as it's larger brother, but was a considerably large income generator and highly valued jewel in the Besadii clan crown.  As such, it's public disgrace was an enormous slight to not only Ahnju but all of Besadii.  The coverage and reaction has been proportionate. 

     With the scene relatively settled and orderly, the T'Sskorda Deffka slowly circled around an outer perimeter of beam-chain linked hovering beacons creating a large cordoned off buffer space around the upper most few levels.  Numerous repair vehicles and crews were already at work on the damage while local Customs Police presence was considerable, patrolling and warding off approaching craft.  A pair of the sleak winged-bullet-like aerospace fighters moved in to a shadowing position very near the Settled Score, it's circling pattern then banking sharply and heading in to the interdicted zone with it's escort.

     In the cockpit as Prikesshk maneuvered the vessel, Ock'lana was glued to the panoramic transparisteel soaking up the array of urban views, both glistening and gloomy, in open mouthed wonder for the duration of the short journey.  She hadn't seen the outside world in years.  This bustling ecumenopolis was far from her accustomed experiences even before then.  She'd spent little time on Coruscant and almost the entirety of her training off-world.  She'd yearned to visit the temple and learn with other Padawan, but her Master had always explained their purpose in isolation- "Some powers.. are too great to be kept near the heart.  They shine so bright they blind their brothers.."  her thoughts drifted as she palmed the steel-glass and watched the active world unfold. . .

20BBY, The steamy surroundings of a remote jungle world, outside a long abandoned ancient temple of a long extinct primitive species. . .

     "..then it's true..I am an abomination..and thats why I can't learn with the other Jedi.." the frail young Zabrak concluded while kneeling wide stanced before her seated elder, head hung low.  Her fists were planted in to the lush ground as she bent over huffing.  She sweated profusely as her attire was a full covering hide with only arms, bare feet and neck exposed.  She was winded and catching her breath after long exercise. 

     Her master was a aged Selonian Jedi Knight known as Bo-ka Ragara.  His whiskers were thick and grey along with most of the hair on his muzzle, throat and seemingly down his chest.  His tunic was a crimson red, and his cloak a dark fur.  A long gnarled staff lay across his folded legs.  His eyesight was failing in his old age.   Never dubbed formal Master by the council before it's demise, he was none the less unmatched by any known Jedi in telepathic abilities.  Appropriately, he was paired for a Padawan with the intentionally obscured naturally telepathic Zabrak child, Ock'lana.

     "No child, there is no abomination in the Force itself, it touches us all in it's own way, and it's what we make of that gift.  You must learn to focus your powers.  The Light will be in you as long as you strive to hold it there.  But the Dark Side invades all absence of Light, be weary, for with great power so comes great responsibility.." the Selonian responded.

     The girl looked up "..but Iii've shown focus Master..  and my powers are under my control!" she lamented in slight groaning exclamation giving him doe eyes.  She'd incessantly petitioned to end their sequestration.

     The Selonian Jedi picked up his gnarled staff to draw attention to and outline about the ground where her fists were planted.  The grass had gone from vibrant green and moist to brown dried and withered in just the last few moments.

     She looked up in worry and shame.  The Selonian simply smiled widely and opened his arms to invite her to embrace.  She ran to him and buried her face in his shoulder to hide her tears.

     "Do not fret child, control is in you, and we will find it.  This much, I promise you," he pulled her away for a moment to reach in to his cloak pocket and produce a small wrapped piece of candy.  Such indulgence was forbidden at all times except during study sabbaticals.

     "We all keep a little darkness in our pockets for the right occassion. ." he said comforting her.
     The tiny young girls worry washed away as her face lit up and she eagerly tore through the wrap and devoured the treat.

Now (12BBY). . .

     She was smitten with a somber relief and her eyes held a slight gloss while her sinuses trickled moisture. She sniffled it up and blinked the dew away, mopping the lingering dampness up with a sleeve, but maintaining a wide sticky smile she couldn't wipe away.

     "Wat hoppun? Mewkussss, dissscharrjj, sssicknesss?" the reptile inquired to her guest and ward.

     The Zabrak let out half of a chuckle while still renewing her visage, "You guys don't cry huh?"

     Prikesshk considered briefly and answered with, "Cry?"

     Lana nodded, "That figures.." as she considered her inability to see the Doshans mind through the Force, perhaps the emotional transparency played a role at a physiological level, she'd never met another Trandoshan before to know any better yet.  "Well, I've done enough for both of us..  From my perspective?.. You're not missing much. So don't worry," she explained.

     "Ayy w'nt" the Trandoshan shortly replied without any additional thought.

     The Zabrak took her eyes off the sky for a moment to face Prikesshk in silent assessment then returned to her view as they slowed to a coasting hover.  The small ship moved to dock with a much larger Mobile Repulsor Command Platform that aesthetically appeared to hang off the side of the Beshtek from it's roof level and extend down a few floors.   Serving as the administrative hub for the investigation and repair work, it had it's own small landing platform that extended from it's back where a couple shuttle like craft sat.  The Settled Score rolled slowly in and descended next to them, coming to a hydraulic cushioned rest with it's drive-wings extended and cocked up, heavy exhaust fumes rolling out from beneath the ships belly. . .(TBC, small bites, nibble nibble)
« Last Edit: May 29, 2014, 07:25:55 PM by Eidolon »
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Offline SWSF Hale

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« Reply #16 on: June 03, 2014, 12:36:54 PM »

I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once,
but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.

Bruce Lee


Gunnar stepped out of the hole in the alley where him and Kassandra were. Putting the hood back over his head, he walked away, but not before Kassandra stepped out to say goodbye.

"Anytime you need a break, you come back down here. Understand?" she said with a smile.

"Last night wasn't a mistake, but attachments are forbidden according to the Jedi Code. If I come back for you, even for... your services... it is a form of attachment, which I cannot allow," replied Gunnar.

"Attachments? Sounds like your still attached to that Jedi Order of yours..."

Gunnar sighed and began to walk away, trying to ignore her comment, but he couldn't. What was the Jedi Order in a time like this? Could it come back and be rebuilt? Even after 7 years of being on the run from Order 66, bounty hunters, and Darth Vader himself? Were times like these any reason to uphold the principles of the Order?

Gunnar turned and looked back to Kassandra. "You're coming with me. Get your things."

Meanwhile, elsewhere...


Crowds cheered with every punch, every bone broken, every drop of blood spilled. The Silvertown Arena was one of Ahnju's biggest moneymakers. Professional and amateur fights alike took place there. Every season however, one special tournament took place. The Million Credit Brawl as it was called, was an open-to-the-public contest in which the Arena was opened for 1 hour. At the end of that hour, the last man standing would win 1 million credits. The prize of course was the sideshow in reality, for all the gambling that took place on the side was where the big credits were being rolled.

Djas Puhr, a Sakiyan under the employment of the Hutts, was tasked with organizing this year's Brawl. Although a bounty hunter by trade, Djas was talented with running certain operations from time to time because of his meticulous nature to make sure all loose ends were tied up. Like any good agent of the Hutts though, he had a short list of fighters to bet against, and fighters to bet for, based on their performance, the amount of time they'd last in the Arena, and the number of contestants KO'd or killed-in-contest. At the top of this list was the Weequay champion bounty hunter known as Titan. Weighing in at over 300 lbs, and standing at over 7", Titan was a brute to be reckoned with.

Other fighters were noteworthy, generally Wookie slave fighters performed well. The random Mandalorian or two. Many fighters simply tapped out, opting to walk away and fight another day. Only the truly desperate, nothing-to-loose types stuck it out to the end. The tradition was that if you were one of the last two fighters in the Arena, it was a fight to the death. This tended to weed out the weak fighters or even the strong one's that didn't want to risk their life.

The only reason why Titan had entered the tournament was because he stood to make much more than a million credits if he won the Brawl based on the amount of credits he had personally gambled on himself and other fighters using most of his 5 million credit payout from the Jedi he killed. Additionally, Titan figured he had a good chance to earn a bigger reputation for himself. His plan was to retire from bounty hunting, and use the winnings and notoriety to begin his own racket operation - like any good Weequay.

Lucky for Titan, the Brawl was going to begin in 24 hours. Unlucky for Titan, a Jedi Knight was closing in...

(TBC with the much anticipated storyline crossover!)

Offline Rinny

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« Reply #17 on: June 11, 2014, 10:52:53 PM »
   Shortly after dawn Royston Vaelen stomped up the ramp onto his small freighter.  He was greeted by the site of his dozing daughter slouched in the captain's chair with worn boots propped up on the console of the cramped cockpit.  With a huff, he pushed the feet off the console to take a look at the diagnostics that were supposed to have been run.

   "I suppose you're not so useless after all."  His fingers skimmed across the dials and screens, satisfied with the readouts though he didn't show it.  "Are the weapon packs charged?"

   Nashara let out a grumpy groan as she stretched and rubbed at her eyes.  "I guess, I just put them on a bit ago."

   "Why didn't you put them on straight away?"

   "I did."  She snapped back at him.

   Royston whirled on her, slamming his palm into the chair next to her head, fingers digging into the worn fabric.  "Don't lie to me, whelp.  Those diagnostics have been running for hours."

   The girl jumped slightly in her seat and floundered with an excuse.  "I've been here all night.  I did what you asked and fell asleep."

   "I asked you to stay home."  Dark eyes narrowed on her.  He was naturally suspicious of everyone and everything; always searching for ulterior motives and backup plans.  It was how he had always stayed ahead of his prey--was that how he thought of her now?

   Eyes downcast, she pulled at a errant string on her jacket.  "I don't like it there."

   It was unexpected, the quiet admission was  a shot to the gut and Nashara took advantage of the hesitation and nimbly slipped out of the chair, under his arm and retreated to the back to the armory.

   Royston straightened and took a step back so he could look down the narrow corridor and watch as she pulled the various blasting weapons out of the locker and replaced the charged packs.  She was a stranger, this woman-child who looked and sounded so much like his long lost Morgan.  At some point he had turned a corner and she was no longer the tot he could toss on his shoulder and amuse with his meatheaded antics.

   Looking back at him with an almost bored gaze, she asked about his night out.

   "Ahnju is saved one more scheming record keeper.  Tried to tell me that almost fifteen mil had gone missing."  He smirked as his daughter's eyes went wide and for just a second he saw a glimpse of the girl that would hang on every word of his old stories.  "He tried to cut me in at twelve.  Made sure to cut off his hands before his head."

   A small snort escaped her as she pulled the strap of the long barreled rifle over her head and across her chest before hefting up a much larger blaster rifle and walking it over to him.  He took it from her easily.  "So do you know who and where then?"  Nashara asked as she watched him sling the weapon on his shoulder.

   Royston pushed past her and headed out of the ship.  "Got a couple ideas."  He could hear her exhale in adolescent annoyance behind him.  She didn't need to hear the strangled squawks or whispered musings of sources, such unguarded conversations is what had cost him the last target.

   "They're probably six systems away by now anyway."

   "Shut it and keep up,"  was all he said to her and all that needed to be said.

Offline SWSF Eidolon

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« Reply #18 on: June 14, 2014, 09:03:15 PM »

The Huntress I.VII

     Lana stuck close to Prikesshk, eagerly sucking up the elevated brisk morning air as the duo strode across the small landing platform, it was sparsely alive with grounds crew. They passed a formally marching squad of Nar Shaddaan Customs soldiers made up of the typical hodge podge races of Hutt thuggery, heading towards an idling ship. Outside a simple utility door at the base of the repulsor platforms tall and narrow main structure, a lightly armed Customs Officer stood guard at attention and a lavish dressed stout and husky blue skinned Twi'lek gentleman seemed to anxiously beckon them his way. 

     His head-tails were clipped on a slant, so that they hung only to his shoulders, somewhat of a eunuch status amongst his kind. He was dressed in purple robes of layered appearance and varying hues. Hundreds of small glittering gem studs and small precious metal rings were planted along the rims of his ears, nose and lips.  His entire body was heavily tatooed in various heavy black lined cultural and social markings, both Twi'lek and Hutt.  They were much different in pattern than those on the adolescent Zabrak Ock'lana.

     "Come, come!" he called out over the whine of a shuttle warming it's engines, his speech salival and clumsy from his many facial adornments.  The Trandoshan hissed a greeting, then having to duck and followed by the young Zabrak, they entered the door. The Twi'lek followed and pulled the door closed behind them resulting in a much quieter atmosphere.

     "I um Boosadee Clans Ooffishell Meeneesturr ohb Invoostoogatons, Voodok Kahja, I um obbaseer for Lord Ahnju," he began in lightly garbled speech as he led them through the narrow corridors of the construct.   Prikesshk had to angle her head so it didn't scrape the bare piping and conduit running along the ceiling.  They passed several passage ways and made a couple turns, many doors were closed, others open revealing small rooms and either empty or randomly populated here and there with the official looking being who'd apparently be interviewing another being clothed in casino or hotel employee garb.  There were a small handful of guards standing at attention about the halls, dressed and armed like the one outside on the platform.

     "I veel show you oww fundings thush fah on thee imshedent," he clumsily clanged.  "In coonnucshun weth Customs, Imprulll and Clumn resoors, vee hab uncovered much,"

     Lana interupted from behind Prikesshk as they walked on, "Imperial?"

     "Yesh," he motioned in to a compartment as they passed, a pair of bleach white armor clad troopers stood at one wall while an olive clothed and capped officer sat leaning in on and angrily pressuring a Duros who was vehemently denying some accusation.  The officer's black gloved hand was shaking in the aliens face.  Lana glanced in as she passed, furrowing her brow at observation of the image that'd always been painted for her by Master Ragara.  She'd never been so close to an Imperial Agent, she grew anxious and hurried her step closer behind the Trandoshan with the verbal and even visual confirmation,

     "Why do you guys need the Empire's help figuring this out? Isn't this Hutt Space?" she asked, adding a tinge of snark to the end.

     As they entered a turbo-lift and the doors slid closed she let out a tightly clenched breath of tension in her gut.  They waited only a moment as it hummed upwards a few levels.

     "Vee wook wiff the Empur en zay wark veeth ush, day reeshpuct oww vays ahn versh.  Empur Peepole come to Shmugglerss Moon, they come to Booshtok to, Mooch to gann froom another," he answered.
     Lana quietly scoffed at the mention of the Empire and Respect in the same sentence, Ragara had described the usurpation of the Republic by the master schemings of Senator turned Emperor Palpatine to her many times and laid out the history of it all as he knew it.  Because of his particular charge of the unique padawan Ock'lana in distance from the Jedi Temple and Council, few members of the Order even knew of the girls existence or his location.  Bo-Ka had never had any contact with Yoda, one of few to know the true dark depths of the Emperor, and wasn't even sure the unaccounted for Master was even alive. Throughout The Purge, most of the few and dwindled survivors who clung to existence in secret isolation had little working knowledge of one another other than rumor and word of mouth.

     Lana had not set eyes upon another Jedi, nor person she could trust, since Ragara's demise, an event still somewhat cordoned off in her psyche. She knew enough about Palpatine and his Empire to fear and loathe them.  She had a dream once about killing a hooded and robbed man who was never visible beyond a shadowed visage even in her subconscious imagination. Long before Bo-Ka Ragara had even told her about the demise of the Republic and the Jedi Order and Palpatine.  Since then she'd always imagined it was Palpatine.  Ragara preached the fluidity of things like destiny to her, and cautioned her against becoming set on a path of anything besides worship of Light. 

     The doors hissed open and the trio exited on to the roof of the Beshtak, leaving behind only a short squat exposure of the taller narrow structure of the Hovering Command Platform hugging the side of the much larger building that they'd landed on and entered.  Ten meter tall panoram transparisteel glass lined the roofs ledges, blocking the consistent strong Nar Shaddaan breeze and providing an unimpeded view of the surrounding region.  Several large typical humanoid sized holes were neatly cut out of it in some places.  The roofs ground was visibly blackened and scarred in many areas especially along ventiliation outlets and other exposures.  Far across from where they walked, a large several meter wide portion of the roof surface itself had collapsed entirely in from the intensity of the flame.  Broken chunks of metal and material hung down.  A dozen or so workers were in the process of repairing it with various manual and technological tools and raw or fabricated materials.  There were numerous other beings about the roof.  A News crew was filming in one far corner and at the one across another pair of white-armor clad Imperial troopers stood. 

     Prikesshk and the Twi'lek exchanged some queries and information regarding the various investigators findings about the obvious roof insertion.  At one point, the reptilian Tracker stopped abruptly and stooped down to pick up a tuft of dark fiber or hair and examined it while walking on before tucking it in to a small pouch on her chest.  Lana overheard the topic but was rather more interested in the various goings on about them.  In the immediate vicinity and the distance, all at once.   The roaring speeders and crowded commotion, the larger distant starships coming and going from ports.  This world was alive more than she'd ever imagined.  Catching glimpses only in the past in her occassional displays for Ahnju's manipulation, now she felt the massive dense concentration of life coursing about.  It was inundating to her senses almost to a point of intoxication if she didn't Forcibly block some of it out.

     They approached the roofs main service turbo-lift berth, where outside another one of the now familiar uniformed Customs Officers stood guard.  The arch of the door way was heavily scarred from fire and smoke. They entered and the reptilian and Twi'lek continued to exchange as they traveled down only two or three levels,

     "..Seecund entwee poyent, diss lift tunnel.  Though lift noot reculled, ant otter blast dows open via unknown muns, no hock ob terminal, credit ond utiletes hockun nebba breech strooctors leeft contwols,"

     The turbo-lift stopped at the 28th floor.  The door whooshed open to a precisely tailored olive garbbed Imperial Officer and his small attache of personnel whom he was addressing directly in front of them.  He was standing stoic with arms folded behind back, he wore no cap but sported a sleek dark brown mane of near-shoulder length hair. A finely dressed short human woman of small build and nearly shaved blonde hair save for short up-swooped tufts in front stood with her weight shifted to one leg with a datapad in hand entering information while a tall white armored and masked trooper stood behind them holding his large blaster rifle against his shoulder, his helmet design marked in the ever evolving permanent black fiendish grin of the would be designated Stormtrooper.

     Lana's eyes widened as the trooper seemed to stare down at her, she took half a step partially concealing herself behind Prikesshk's large intimidating form, though trying not too obviously to draw even more attention.  Her heart pounded and her fears raced, maybe she should have made her dash for freedom already, but to where? dive off the side of a thirty story building?  Oh, to be tasting freedom from the dank imprisonment in Ahnju's clutches and delivered directly in to Imperial hands..

     "..make sure we have enough fuel to make it straight to Coruscant, I don't want to have to stop in another filthy alien infested bombed out hovel along the way.. Ah! Minister Kahja!," he casually diverted long after taking peripheral notice of the lifts exiting occupants.

     "'re just in time for me to bid my gracious partings upon you!" the well manicured and postured man announced, placing a small holo-disk in to the stout ornate Twi'lek's hand while palming it, then summarized "..a field report of our findings.  Myself and my team are returning to Ubiqtorate, I'm satisfied here that there are no Jedi meddlings.."

     The veil of worry in Lana was pierced by a link peaking her interests.  The mere mention of Jedi flooded her heart with butterflies.  The Twi'lek interuppted the Imperial Officer, "Cun stel credeet without fwonting Defel.  If noot Jedah, Den who?"

     The Intelligence Officer was annoyed and countered, "..I was getting to that..  Our analysis of blast residue from the detonation point indicates a plasma based Triethylene glycol dinitrate of simple structure and known to be used by Bothan Terrorist Cells.  They are themselves more than qualified covert infantry operatives.  The Defel, a distraction from the real gain.  Nearly Nine million credits, a sum surely to cost the Empire ten fold elsewhere,"

     The Imperial Officer and his company then pushed through and passed the arrivals who were displaced from the lift and turned to face them, Lana stuck to Prikesshk's side still and breathing half a sigh of relief at being seemingly ignored.  Then, the Officer glanced down at her,

     "Maybe if you enlisted some help other than senseless lizards and toddlers, you and the Hutts would be able to figure these kinds of things out for yourselves," he finished with a cocked smirk as the turbo-lift slid shut and shot upward.

     Lana had allowed insult to trump fear and managed to react with a scowl for him before the doors hissed shut, then glanced to the Twi'lek, "You were saying something about the Empire and Respect?"

     Prikesshk did not react to the humor.  The Twi'lek grimaced sorely while pocketing the holo-disk and ignored her, ushering them on to observe the scene of the Defel floors attack. . .

« Last Edit: July 25, 2014, 06:05:07 PM by Eidolon »
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Offline SWSF Hale

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« Reply #19 on: June 21, 2014, 09:01:11 PM »

Everyone has a plan until they've been hit.
Joe Lewis


The noise from the crowd was intense, but it was interrupted every time a body was slammed to the floor. Currently there were 6 fighters in the arena - a precusor event called "The Pit Fight" always took place before the Million Credit Brawl - this year a pair of humans, one Defel, one Codru-Ji, and a pair of Gamorreans were in the ring. Many of the bookies were putting their money on the Gamorreans, but few were going all in on the Codru-Ji, knowing that his four arms would carry an unexpected advantage. However, while the crowd wouldn't have much time to place any more bets or discuss the odds, because the fight was about to begin.


Immediately the six fighters rushed into the ring. Each side of the Hexagon was a 10 foot tall sheer durasteel fence. The idea was that the ring was more like a pit, with no escape. The fighters began pairing off, with the humans going after the Gamorreans, and the Defel and Codru-Ji squaring with each other.

The humans were quick to use their natural speed and dexterity to their advantage, being able to make quick maneuvers and perform fast kicks against the Gamorreans. One of the humans managed to land a powerful jumping kick to a Gamorreans head, sending him back against the fence wall. However, the other Gamorrean had lifted his human opponent over his head and was preparing for a body slam. Instead, the Gamorrean kneeled down and simply let the human fall face down, sending his chest crashing down on the massive knee that Gamorrean had. This move cracked some bones, knocked the wind out of the human, and made the crowd go nuts.

The first human though had much more luck. After landing that jumping kick to the head. More repeated high kicks to the Gamorrean's throat were successful, which crushed the Gamorrean's wind pipe and forced him to tap out, as he could no longer breathe. Meanwhile, the Defel and Codru-Ji battle was going as everyone expected. Using his four arms, the Codru-Ji was able to block and attack at the same time. Eventually he was able to overpower the Defel, get him on his back, and land a TKO by sending a volley of punches to the head.

After some tense moments, the human and Gamorrean looked at each other and agreed that the Codru-Ji needed to be taken out. Most unexpectedly, the judge turned on a massive red light, which meant only one thing: the forcefield that protected the overhead area of the ring was shut down, which meant members of the crowd could participate in the fight by throwing weapons into the ring.

Immediately, vibro weapons began littering the floor, which sent the human sprawling for one -- but this mistake would be his last -- because the Codru-Ji anticipated this and rushed towards the human right as he was grabbing a vibrosword. Reaching around his neck, the Codru-Ji immediately snapped it back and most likely killed the human. The crowd didn't care, they simply went nuts.

Using this precious moment to collect some weapons, the Gamorrean found a pair of his own personal axes - most likely a pre-arranged drop before the fight. As he was doing this, the Codru-Ji reached for a long vibrospear and a knife, and assumed a defensive stance against the Gamorrean.

Using the vibrospear to keep distance from the Gamorrean, the Codru-Ji was being cautious, but perhaps too cautious, because the Gamorrean was using one axe as a shield, while forcing the Codru-Ji back into a corner. Eventually, the Codru-Ji had nowhere to back into, and the Gamorrean rushed in for a final blow, but as he did this, the Codru-Ji abandoned his vibrospear and performed a diving slide under the Gamorrean, jamming his knife directly up the Gamorrean's scrotum, which put the Gamorrean down. As the Gamorrean was laying on the floor bleeding, the Codru-Ji raised his four arms victoriously.

...but just as the judge was ready to proclaim a winner, the Gamorrean was able to make one last adrenaline-fueled dash to the Codru-Ji, managing to chop off one of his arm's clean off before falling back to the floor unconscious. The Codru-Ji, wincing in pain and gripping where is fourth arm used to be, was proclaimed winner anyway.

But as the fight was coming to a close, and everyone on their feet, one man was sitting on the top row in the very back, hiding in the shadows and keeping his hood safely around his head. Gunnar was shaking his head in disgust of the entire spectacle.

"Bloodsport," he critiqued.

"Pure and simple," replied Kassandra, "but one of Ahnju's biggest money makers, and beyond the prying eye of the Empire. The Silvertown Arena will always exist so long as these fights continue."

"...and everyone will be enslaved to the flow of blood and jingle of coin..."

Kassandra nodded, but seemed to be enjoying herself. In her mind, Gunnar was liberating her, and he was her ticket to freedom. Gunnar's thoughts were scattered, and his emotions ramping up. He was waiting for Titan, and the moment to strike...

Offline SWSF Eidolon

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« Reply #20 on: July 25, 2014, 05:53:50 PM »

The Huntress

     The bejeweled and inked portly Twi'lek meandered slowly through the all but empty Defel Hall.  The walls and floor were blackened from smoke and fire damage, some areas less than others.  The corpses and debris had already been cleared, though the aroma of burned hair hung heavily in the air, along with that scent of a multitude of burned substance in general.  A large circular shallow crater occupied roughly the middle of the room, the immediate outlying area slightly less scarred than the rest of the floor.  As they approached it, the guide noted various stained and charred crimson hued blotches on the floors that stood out and a few noticeable blaster scars on the walls, while exchanging queries and replies with the Trandoshan.

     Ock'lana was half listenening as she fell behind, stopping at the largest of the stained crimson blotches.  She crouched down and touched the dried and burned red-blackish crusty substance with a hand.  It flaked off transfering unto the tips of her fingers and she rubbed them together to cast it away, though grinding into a more powdery consistency as it dusted off- some of the most fines clung to her skin and worked deeper into her pores, mixing with her natural body oils.  At first not noticing, she blinked and in that fleeting moment caught glimpse of terror.

     The vision lasted a split second, the time between the fluttering of lashes closed and their settling back open.  But in it she experienced much more.  The sound was only a steady high pitched whine or scream.  Blackened and shadowed, the angle as though seen through the eyes of someone else.  She felt the heart pounding fear as though her own.  A bright wave of light came soaring downward and through the visual perspective of the vision just before it flickered out.  It switched to another visual angle and a different path of the flash in the darkness.  And another, and another.  She felt the blood lust and satisfaction, though saw only the flashes and perhaps a cackling behind the drowning high pitched scream.  All in that brief span.

     She jumped up and backward, frantically wiping away the lingering trace substance from her finger tips with her garments and jogging away anxiously to catch up to  the Twi'lek and 'Doshan, who herself was now glaring at the girl, as they stopped in front of the shallow crater.  The ceiling above had a large nearly perfect circular section neatly burned out, that was roughly the same size of the crater beneath it.  The crater itself was a couple meters in diameter and the floor around it was mishapen and charred in a relatively consistent width.  Having liquified or melted away at the instant of detonation, then hardening, it would likely retain a small trace of the explosive chemicals involved.

     "octo-vashun point," Prikesshk hissed bending down.   Ock'lana and the Twi'lek leant over her, though in crouched position the towering Trandoshans head was still nearly as tall as they were standing.

     "Yesh, we belub deese to beh of plashma nuture.  Semple floor cleering devus at deese lebel, dough upwart charge of high umpooct.  Hens, roof doomage.. ash Empurel Agunt say, Bothan in orrejun?" the Twi'lek responded.  Adding unsure inflection in the end.

     Prikesshk first bent closer and sniffed the ground.  She propped back up with her nostrils flared and nose furled.  Picking a small bit of the melted and charred hardened flooring between two sharp claws, she placed it on her tongue, then scoffed.

    *Hmpfffsss*  "Semelar boot no.  Antarian. C Plasssmasssss,"

     The Twi'lek immediately made the widely known connection.  "Antarian Rangers wark weef Jehdais. . .You are shar?"

     The Trandoshan stood and shot the Twi'lek a now downward glance.  The flubbery fellow took her meaning and nodded, "I shull enfarm Lort Ahnju zee confermashun ob hes soospushuns," he answered before trudging away.

     The Doshan turned her attention to Ock'lana.  "Ewe sunsed hem, deednt tyou?"

     The young Zabrak hesitated then answered, "Yes,"

     Prikesshk let on a lustful menacing smile.  She was on the trail of a Jedi.  This was the sort of prize which could redeem her standing on Dosha and end her Exile.  "Com, ssssssss- hunt ist on,"   she hissed, clutching the girl by the scruff of her bulky robe and leading her out.

     Ock'lana hurried along her step to avoid simply being dragged.  She was unsure of her next move, but knew one thing for sure.  To escape, she had to get out of the Beshtak and down to street level. . .(TBC)
« Last Edit: July 25, 2014, 11:39:29 PM by Eidolon »
SWSF 'til Death