Author Topic: CRIME AND PUNISHMENT (Read 39812 times)

SWSF Hale · « **on:** March 21, 2014, 01:30:35 AM »

Our story begins on the Smuggler's Moon - better known as Nar Shaddaa - where our undaunted Jedi hero Gunnar Kendrik has been hiding in exile for the past 7 years since Order 66. Stay tuned for a tale spanning those fine gray lines between justice and revenge, crime and punishment...

(Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgPt2mZooss "In Due Time" ~ Killswitch Engage)

SWSF Hale · « **Reply #1 on:** March 21, 2014, 01:05:39 PM »

JEDI KNIGHT GUNNAR KENDRIK

In certain extreme situations, the law is inadequate.
In order to shame its inadequacy, it is necessary to act outside the law.
To pursue... natural justice. This is not vengeance.
Revenge is not a valid motive, it's an emotional response.
No, not vengeance. Punishment.
The Punisher (2004)

>> NAR SHADDAA // OLD MEZENTI SPACEPORT [PLATFORM 7G] 0200 HOURS

Old Mezenti Spaceport, once known as a bastion of the Sith Empire roughly 25,000 years prior, was unlike anywhere else on the planet. One of the "safest" districts, many residents kept to themselves. Nobody asked any questions, nobody talked. It was an ideal place to make a home in exile from the Galactic Empire. Here the Empire had little authority, if any at all, because the Hutt Syndicate's power in the realm of things unseen and in the shadows stretched far beyond the reach of Imperial Star Destroyers. Yet for the Jedi Order, death squads, assassins, and bounty hunters employed by the Hutts were often executing Imperial contracts. There was almost an unspoken sense that the Hutt Syndicate was a de facto paramilitary and private intelligence branch of the Empire, which was why Gunnar wanted to be hiding right under their noses.

Immediately after Order 66 transpired, Gunnar contacted Jedi General Rahm Kota via their mutual contacts with the Antarian Rangers. Whilst Kota planned to go underground and eventually confront Darth Vader, Gunnar made it his personal mission to bring those who actively destroyed the Jedi Order to justice. Thus, after spending a year moving from system to system to replace transponder codes and upgrade the Dauntless, Gunnar and his ex-Republic Judicial Forces crew and squad of Antarian Rangers decided to make Nar Shaddaa their base-in-exile. From this vantage point, they could maintain observation over the galaxy and secretly dispose of any scum who killed Jedi, or otherwise make new names and lives for themselves being the light in dark times.

"Gunnar, I've got some bad news..." Nadira handed him a datapad.

Gunnar clenched his fist, he had already percieved Nadira's mood through the Force, but her voice inflection said everything. "Not another one? Who?"

"Master Forus Quelo, on Bestine. Did you know him?"

"When I was a youngling Padawan. He taught one of my classes for a year. We didn't really keep in touch over the years."

"I'm sorry," replied Nadira, trying to comfort Gunnar. "Seems like it's always an old friend, teacher, colleague, former Padawan, old Master. How much more can the Order take?"

"I'm beginning to think we need to do more. Those first two bounty hunters we took out a few years back only made a dent. We need to target the guilds who are actively hunting Jedi. We need to make Jedi-killing so dangerous a business proposition that even the most hardened assassins will be watching their back, wondering if they should take new contracts."

"I'll get the crew assembled."

Within the span of an hour, the crew of the Dauntless was back onboard the ship, sitting in the briefing room. Holoprojections of a Defel assassin named Ryche and his current whereabouts were being displayed. Ryche belonged to Ahnju the Hutt's outfit, headquartered on Nar Shaddaa. Ahnju the Hutt had been particularly interested in expanding his connections with the Empire, as he was attempting to gain influence through corruption and eventually plant seeds of his own smuggling network. In the meantime, Ahnju knew killing Jedi was a very profitable side business, and so his own personal hit squad of some 50 Defel warriors were actively hunting Jedi throughout the galaxy.

Gunnar walked the crew through the mission, the plan was to wipe out Ahnju the Hutt's outfit. Take him back to zero. Nobody objected.

"Simply put, we're going to war," said Gunnar. "Anyone who impinges on the Jedi Order. Someone must bring their war to them. If a bounty hunter or assassin kills a Jedi, we take out not only them, but the guild they work for or their employer."

"When do we begin?" asked one of the leading Rangers.

"Now."

SWSF Hale · « **Reply #2 on:** March 25, 2014, 02:29:55 PM »

JEDI KNIGHT GUNNAR KENDRIK

Strike hard, strike fast, strike often.
Admiral Halsey (WWII)

>> NAR SHADDAA // AHNJU'S DISTRICT [BESHTAK PALACE] 0430 HOURS

The Beshtak Palace was one of Ahnju's more reputable businesses. Listed as a "casino hotel" in Nar Shaddaa's Public Registry, this belied the true nature of the building - which was a 30-floor tower complex that hosted a variety of Ahnju's clients, thug groups, and most importantly his Defel hit squad nicknamed the "Wraith Raiders" on the streets. Of course, Ahnju himself never stepped foot in the building unless somebody screwed up and needed to get killed. No, like any Hutt, Ahnju handled his business from afar, as after all Beshtak Palace was just one of many jewels in the Hutt's crown, as prominent and significant as it was.

The plan was to attack the Palace from within. If a direct frontal assault was made, too many innocents would be in the way, and the Wraith Raiders would be the least concern, since private security guards for the hotel's clientele were abound on the bottom floor where the casino tables were. As Gunnar explained the attack plan to his men, just a dozen in all, they needed some creativity for their opening gambit...

"We're going to send in the droids first, masquerading as an unscheduled maintenance crew. Straight to Basement Level 1, where the building's service terminals are. Captain Nadira, I'll need you to run point for this. Convince the door man to let you in using any means necessary."

Nadira smiled, knowing her Twi'Lek charm would prevail. "Right, so what next?"

"Level 28 is where the Wraiths are. I'll need you to slice into that floor's power matrix and be ready to turn ON the lights and supercharge them. Defel's prefer dusk lighting, so as soon as we walk into their complex, we need to have the advantage. We'll be carrying flash charges as well, but if they are struggling to see clearly, even if we lose the element of surprise we should be able to finish the fight quickly."

The Antarian Rangers were a little surprised with the plan. Normally a covert strike like this would be carried out in total darkness. They would be packing vision enhancers.

"Standard room clearing operation from there. After the fight is over, we'll have to recover any internal security videos or destroy the hard drives if any. We can't afford to have our cover blown," said Gunnar. "But just to be sure, we're going to plant an incendiary bomb in the middle of the floor to burn anything that might be traced back to us. When the fire alarm goes off, we'll make our escape out the front door."

Lieutenant Tusk, the leading Ranger spoke up, "What about insertion? How are we getting in, in the first place?"

"The Dauntless will do a fly over. Fast rope onto the roof and rappel down to Level 28. Two 5-man teams will insert through the windows with flashbang charges and come in screaming and blazing from the North and West sides so there won't be any crossfire. I'll take the roof's service lift down and walk in through the front door. They won't know what'll hit'em."

"Sounds textbook," replied Tusk. "What's our takeaway?"

Gunnar smirked, "That's why I like you Rangers. Always looking to get a slice of the pie after blowing up the oven. But honestly it's going to be nothing. This is a standard hit and run."

Nadira countered, "I'm not so sure about that Master Kendrik, I'll see what I can do from the Maintenance levels. I won't be able to slice into the building's core vault, but with the R2 units I could be able to dump all the Cartel Credits on the floor into our Tier 10 Credit Card at the moment of the fire alarm. It probably won't be much but at least we'll have some walking-around money for the time being."

"Excellent. Usually these sorts of casino hotels have a couple million on the floor at any given time. We might get lucky," replied Gunnar.

Everyone looked around the room and took a moment to soak in the situation. Before, they had made runs on small groups of bounty hunters and assassins in very small contained areas. It was easy to overwhelm the target. This was different. As good as any Jedi was when facing a larger group, that was a relatively easy feat, especially if you had a battalion of clones to your back. This operation was risky. And everyone knew it. But the message that was going to be sent was worth the risks. It was time the Jedi Order got some payback.

"It's time to move out. May the Force be with us!"

After performing last-minute checks, the crew of the Dauntless began carrying out their operation. Like clockwork, the fast-rope insertion took place and the assault teams were in position. Captain Nadira, walking quickly to the Maintenance level, was easily able to get buzzed in after showing a little cleavage and making up some dumb excuses about a client on the Penthouse floor needing their temperature systems calibrated at the last minute. Lethal force was spared however. As soon as Nadira got through, she shot the security guard at point blank with her DC-17's stun set to maximum, or as she liked to call it "Knockout Mode".

Nadira was easily able to open the necessary terminals and immediately put the DUM droids and R2 droids to work. "I'm in position. Awaiting your go," she said over her comm device.

On the roof, Gunnar replied, "Roger. All teams, wait for my signal." Walking over to the Service turbolift, he didn't bother pushing any buttons. A simple wave of his hand and the precision of his Force telekinesis was able to open the doors, revealing a long hallow shaft with clear access down to Level 28. After some careful acrobatics, Gunnar was able to reach Level 28. Walking down a long and dark hallway, Gunnar made his way to the Wraith's front door.

"Nash tak, bel ghulaa?" asked the Defel guard, who pointed his blaster pistol at Gunnar.

Gunnar didn't waste any time. Using the Force he was quickly able to squeeze the neck of the Defel and begin to suffocate him. "Now, tell me the access code to this door."

"RHEK! NASH FUTAGO JEDAI!!!"

"Fine we'll do this the hard way!" Suddenly, blue, amber, and purple sparks began to flow from the Defel into Gunnar's hand. These coalesced into thick energy bolts - a form of Force lightning derived from the Force Drain he was performing on the Defel. The living Force was in all creatures. By tapping into an individual's own energies and their connection to the Force, one could siphon these energies via a Force Drain and feel a temporary surge in their own powers. This was somewhat good, considering Gunnar would need a heightened connection to the Force for the coming assault.

"All teams, move in!"

The Antarian Rangers rappelled down the side of the building while Nadira blasted the lights inside the Wraith's room. After hearing the pops from the flashbangs and the crash of the windows, Gunnar telekinetically opened the door and rushed in, immediately greeting a group of three Defel with his lightsaber. Taking things slow, Gunnar did not dash towards his targets, rather he paced towards them - deflecting any blaster bolts directly back at them when able - but he was determined to get to melee range and hack the Defel down.

The resulting assault by the Antarian Rangers was no different. The somewhat blind Defel were horribly off target, shooting their blasters in any which direction they heard commotion. Some got shot in the crossfire. However, the Rangers moved in their trademark "Scorpion" formation, otherwise known as a "T" formation to the non-initiated, dispatching and closing in on entire groups of Defel - many of whom were unarmed.

The Defel that posed some resistance were handled by Gunnar directly. Although the Rangers were being aggressive, they didn't want to expose themselves too much and risk any casualties. Instead their tactics were more defensive, using the element of surprise and their situational advantage to draw the Defel out and kill the easy targets first, leaving the harder ones for Gunnar.

The entire assault was completed in 4 minutes, 34 seconds, when the "all clear" was given. It was a massacre. Nothing less. After placing the incendiary charge, Gunnar and the Rangers cleared the level and activated it. The charge was a simple but effective device. It released a high-pressure aerosol napalm and then ignited it with a plasma torch. The shockwave caused the floors above and below to rumble violently, and the flames began spreading. It was go time.

Gunnar touched his comm device, "Nadira, clear out when you can."

"Roger that, almost there..." replied Nadira, who was in the process of clearing out the floor's credit reserve with her R2 units. After completing the transfer, she set a Smoke Charge, hoping to clog the eletrical systems even further and prevent emergency responders from activating the building's fire supression system or confuse their efforts. "Moving out. See you back at the Dauntless."

"How much did we score?" asked Gunnar.

"You're not going to believe this..." Nadira double checked the Credit Card to be sure, "8 million, 300 thousand, and some change. Damn near maxed out the Card!"

Gunnar smiled. He was hoping for 2 to 3 million at most. 8 million was practically a score-of-a-lifetime for a professional thief. "The Force is with us. Justice has been served. All units, evacuate. Maintain radio silence and lay low. Rendezvous back at the Dauntless in 24 hours."

After everyone responded, Gunnar took a moment to look up at the stars once he reached the streets. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but this was a start. Punishment was afoot.

SWSF Hale · « **Reply #3 on:** March 27, 2014, 11:04:59 AM »

>> NEWS REPORT // WHILE EMERGENCY PERSONNEL HAVE CONTAINED THE FIRE FROM SPREADING TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THE BUILDING, AN INITIAL INVESTIGATION HAS CONCLUDED THAT THIS WAS AN ACT OF TERRORISM. AHNJU THE HUTT HAS YET TO RELEASE AN OFFICIAL STATEMENT, BUT THE GENERAL MANAGER OF THE BESHTAK PALACE SAID: "THIS WAS DEFINITELY AN ARSON-ROBBERY. A COORDINATED AND WELL-PLANNED OPERATION. IT ALL HAPPENED SO FAST!" AND SO THE AUTHORITIES ARE INTERVIEWING WITNESSES WHO MAY HAVE SAW SOMETHING, ALTHOUGH EVERY IDEAL WITNESS WAS KILLED IN THE ATTACK. IT IS UNKNOWN AS THIS TIME IF THE OFFICIAL INVESTIGATION WILL BE RELEASED TO NAL HUTTA CRIMINAL INVESTIGATIVE SERVICES, IMPERIAL INTERPOL, OR A PRIVATE COMPANY. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION REGARDING THIS CASE, PLEASE CONTACT THE APPROPRIATE CHANNELS. <<

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #4 on:** March 31, 2014, 06:35:52 PM »

12yrs BBY. . .

The Huntress I.I

Prikesshk sat rigid in the pilot's chair of the darkened cockpit as the Cygnus Spaceworks Assault ship surged through hyperspace. The co-pilot's post was vacant next to her as she somewhat awkwardly tapped, flicked and turned several buttons, switches and knobs while the starlines raced by. She was nearing her destination, Nar Shaddaa- the Smuggler's Moon. There, she'd deliver a handful of bounties currently lodged in her shipboard holding cells, in various states of decay, terror or resignation, to the powerful Hutt Ahnju. The fruits of her first labors in hunting since embarking on what would be a long journey of redemption across the stars. Hopefully they'd serve as a good impression of her ability and bring more notable contracts her way.

The ship was the only thing to her name, and even her name wasn't worth much back home on Dosha. The Trandoshans knew little of emotion overall but of what they did experience, aggression and pride, often in combination, were by far the most prominent. So as a member of a species priding aggression above all, when you fail at that, you've failed at everything worth something.

Just six months ago she'd led her own raiding parties on Kashyyyk, capturing Wookiee slaves to be sold, mostly to the Empire who helped support a Trandoshan dominance of the Star System (the opposite had been true under the Old Republic). Bringing much acclaim and respect to her brood and clan, her stock rose with her prowess, eventually earning herself the rare title of Huntress. But females of the species seldom play visible active roles in Trandoshan society. Expectedly, compounding resentment accompanied her every step up the social ladder. The aggressive nature of Trandoshan culture meant even her noble blood offered her no shielding from incessant attempts to usurp her standing.

In part of his endless scheme to disgrace and make her his nestling, a male of earlier clutches born of her father through a separate mother, Ragassk, succeeded in part by sabotaging one of her hunts. Ragassk had managed to assure her squad deployed in to a trap, directly a top of a large Wookie encampment . Her loyal squadmates killed and herself humiliated in capture, Prikesshk had her cumulative lifetime of achievement and glory wiped clean. Upon eventual return to her Clan, she was given the option to be exiled and seek redemption on her own, or to submit to nesting. She choose exile. . .

The proximity alarm called out interrupting her reflections, filling the modestly spacious cockpit in a low repetitive whooping for a moment before it was silenced with a hardy sounding smack and faint rapid chorus of three claw to panel ticks. Nearly in sync, the interior cockpit running lights hummed to life casting their standard dim yellow hue accented by the mostly orange lit controls and displays throughout the command pod of The Settled Score. The elongated streaks of sheer light drew to an abrupt halt as the ship was spit out back in to real-space.

Ahead the hazy glimmering urban jewel Nar Shaddaa lay against the back drop of the much larger aesthetically and literally murky Nal Hutta. As The 'Score drew nearer, inbound and outbound customs lanes began to take shape, marked off with various styles and colors of buoys and signs. The assault ship maneuvered towards a special licensed express lane and a pair of swoop winged sleak fighters took up a shadowing position as they scanned and hailed. In The Settled Score, a heavily accented basic voice gave instructions over the comm,

*SHHSTATICSHHH* "Velcome to Nahr Shaddaak, puhleese tronsmoot Eggspress Code end state beeznuss!" *SHHHSTATIC*

Prikesshk activated her license transponder and declared her intentions,

"Thissss Prikesshk T'kosska of Ssssettled Ssscore . Preesssss-ssenTing bountiessss to Aghnju Hutt. ."

A few moments of silence followed before the shadowing fighters returned to address,

*SSSHHHSTATICSSSHH* "Roojurr Score, yew oor cleered, prooseed ahn oor cores! *SSSHHHHSTATIC*

The escorts pulled up ahead of The Settled Score and guided it along out of the general procession of lane traffic on a more direct expedient course for one of Ahnju the Hutt's many palaces. Prikesshk locked in the auto-pilot to follow her guides before turning to depart the cockpit and check on things in the cell-block. . .TBC! (Next installment in Crime and Punishment!)

The Huntress I.II

Arguments are made for Nar Shaddaa being the true center of galactic culture. They have their points. Pulsating upward urban swell? Check. Diversively factional? Check. Stark divide of affluent and destitute? Check, check.

Priskesshk had spent her first weeks in exile plodding the planet while working towards acquiring a Guild license as a Tracker. Few noted her female sex. Unlike home on Dosha, it seemed to matter little if at all. Not that most of the other sentients could tell with their limited sense of scent.

Bright rows of white luminesence beamed down from the eight meter ceiling, they'd slowly flickered to life as she entered the cell-block, rearmost portion of her ship not counting the drive systems. One large common cell lined the starboard side, while six smaller individuals lined the port. All were both physically and energy barred. A partially clothed shiny chrome thin framed droid with a single large red-eyed face plate display watched stalwartly over the few occupants on the port side, all clustered in to one of the smaller cells, it's dual repeating blaster arm extended in a firing fashion as it's head shifted in suspicion from one to another of the cellmates, two alive in all and two deceased- their heads severed in apparent blaster fire and now rolling around in the pot with them.

Prikesshk demanded and explanation scoldingly of the droid as she approached and observed the state of things,

*HHHSSSSSSSS!!* she called out while smacking the droids blaster arm upward and away,

"Fooolisssssh jroid! One ded hawen I leavvvve! Now two, ntt oothers ssssmellll oo pisssssss!" she decried her nostrils wide in the air before turning away with a sour snarled look.

"Ss-Ssorry Huntress!" the droid responded in an unfitting protocol droid's falsetto male voice, "You instructed me to be firm with them! Shall I kill the other two???" it emphatically continued again raising it's blaster arm toward the cowering cellmates.

"Eye um noot Huntressssss. Eye um Prikesssssssshhhk!" she answered now shoving the droid, which was much smaller in stature than the nearly two meter tall T'doshok (Trandoshan) female. It stumbled backwards and hesitated before nervously attempting to bring it's blaster arm to bare on Prikesshk who again smacked it away with her thick scaled forearm before pinning the droid by the neck against the wall with one arm while holding it's lethal arm outward against the wall with the other.

"Cosssst me here, do noot agoon, Eyye make choff (chaff) of you! Go, fly sssshhhip. Ned proctoose!" she instructed the droid most threateningly, sending him scurrying away eager to stretch his wings. Prikesshk momentarily considered plunking it in the back of it's head with a neatly placed shot for attempting to aim at her, but considered the need to replace him as his only saving grace as Assassin Droids are hard to come by these days.

Ahnju's primary residence palace, the Kla'tajjdag (Biggest of All), on the bustling total underworld rose at least two hundred meters taller than surrounding super structures and decorated in ornate ringed artisan brick and metalworks of progressively complex intricacy as the building rose. Overall it exemplified typical Hutt palace architecture in a cylindrical upward slight in-sloping style, with adjacent shorter ancillary structures of similar shape. While Ahnju officially occupied the Kla'tajjdag, it stood more as a testament to the Besadii clan's might than as personal reference to Ahnju's. None the less, he was the most influential Besadii Hutt on Nar Shaddaa, making him a larger than life character with a temper to boot.

The inbound ships pulled their noses higher in to the horizon as they sped near the palace, circling up the central towering majestic structure before disappearing in to it. . .(TBC soon, here!)

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #5 on:** April 09, 2014, 10:25:28 PM »

The Huntress I.III

Most Trandoshans don't venture far outside of their home star system. Millennia old traditions of conflict with their neighbors on Kashyyyk assures they are well enough occupied near home. For a female, even more rare to venture off. Far better to mate and lay clutches of future warriors to decorate a matriarchal den with trophy Wookiee pelts, accruing true value with the Scorekeeper and ensuring the Divine Regulator's favor in the after world. But Prikesshk, an apparent non-traditional soul, sought different routes to redeem her worth with the Scorekeeper-if the being even existed, or at least with her clan.

She'd known little of the galaxy outside of her home star system. The worlds of Kashyyyk and Dosha varied little from one another, though both in stark contrast to the seedy ecumenopolis Nar Shaddaa presented. A mix of both towering and collapsed or half-sunken seeming city-scapes of varying aesthetic polarities between majestically gleaming and layered decay. Nite had set in on this side of the city-moon, though the artificial glow and bustle only intensified.

The Kla'tajjdag rose prominently above all surrounding urban construct. Within, the S'korrda Deffka had set down in a vast and mostly darkened hangar bay, courtesy of Prikesshk's accompanying droid, Emfordee, as she prepared her captive bounties for presentation to their Claimant, Ahnju the Hutt. The escorting ships had taxied off to the other end of the deck while a small procession of general Hutt thuggery types gathered in a bungled formation near the settled visiting ship.

The boarding plank lowered and Prikesshk stepped forward first out of the shadow, her golden and olive scaled head held high with her upper fangs overtly exposed as she stood tall at nearly two-meters. A bundle of chains lay slung over one of her shoulders, clenched tightly in her broad clawed fist, with a soiled burlap type satchel slung over the same side and grasped in the same fashion. In it two large melon type objects juggled lightly about in stride as it oozed both a red and green kind of goo. As she proceeded down, two broken beings emerged shackled, a Toydarian barely aloft under the weight of his neck and ankle bindings and a hobbling squinted Twi'lek sans half of a head-tail. Behind them a droid followed in short jog before Prikesshk shot it a glare and few words, prompting it to halt and stand guard near the ship's ramp as the rest of the group approached their greeters and they together strode off.

Approaching a gaping large doorway at the end of a long hexagonal faux-torch lit corridor, the clamor and bellowing of a raging rabid Hutt and his henchmen was amplified, the scent of a variety of types of broken flesh filled the air along with a saturated level of humidity. It vaguely reminded her of the lower chambers in the dark dank subterranean T'doshok Dens back home, though less so when she drew closer and stepped in to the spacious but crowded noisey chamber of Ahnju's court a top the Kla'tajjdag. The transparisteel paneled upper walls and ceiling brought the open nite Nar Shaddaan sky to view, which was beginning to be consumed by the massive green murky orb Nal Hutta itself.

A Besadii Warlord, Ahnju works to further the clan agenda on Nar Shaddaa while assuring the other Hutt Kajidics keep their sticky hands to, or at least amongst, themselves. Far from the most powerful of the Besadii, he is quickly rising in status and dread.

A momentary silence captured the uproar of the alien mob,

"Raaaaaggggggghhh!! Choomee soosay ungalla! Hahvee gassuuk dumchalee keesah!!," a sole Hutt voice angrily called out.

The declaration was punctuated with a seemless sounding heavy metal to flesh slash, a few moments of gurgling, a thud a slump and a roll. The mass of beings erupted in growling delight. Near the entry, the crowd parted near Prikesshk and her company as two Weequay hurriedly shuffled the headless corpse of some kind of Si'Klaatan thug away.

In the middle of the gathering near the master of the arena Ahnju, a Klatoonian head lay by itself a few meters from a short and bloodied axeman's block. The executing Gamorrean chuckled heartily to himself as he slung his archaic looking vibro-axe on to it's head and placed a foot in the space between the head and pole arm while extending himself away from it and standing broad chested. A chorus of cheers and jeers intensified from the surrounding audience, one to two hundred assorted beings from literally all corners and nooks of space. The chamber walls rattled, echoing their approval. Strangely, any one of them could be next. Perhaps this fueled their vapid consent to celebration of blood. But contrary to outward appearance this was not a day of celebration, it was a day of mourning. And blood was mourning for a Hutt.

One of Prikesshk's escorting greeters took the moment to interject and appeal to Ahnju for presentation. The brave stout being stepped forward and slung back his hood, revealing a Gran. He yelled out for the master of the court in his helium charged voice,

"Moota Ahnju!! Moota Ahnju!!," he exclaimed to wedge himself in between the foremost circle of the crowd surrounding Ahnju's hover-sled throne where the ancient slug-man took a break from indulging anger to indulge his insatiable Hutt appetite on various squirming and shrieking slimy tentacled little creatures- yanked in handful and flicked in rapid succession to his widened mouth. A path cleared between the Hutt and the Gran,

"(Most Morbid and Fantastic of Hutt-kind and Master of the Foreign Moon!)," the Gran cried out in Huttese for a proper address to his riled master,

"(I present to you Prikesshk T'kosska, licensed tracker extraordinaire of Dosha! Accomplished Hunter of Wookiees! Here, to make claim on four bounties set by your benevolent lordship!)" he continued over the brewing low venomous murmur of the crowd.

Slumped in awkward comfort on his throne sled, the bulbous and hulking green Ahnju called for more observant respect, "Gogo! Gogo!" he shouted as the murmurs quickly subsided and silence prevailed.

Prikesshk stepped further forward from the mob and handed the set of chain leads she grasped off to the nearby Gran who pulled the frightful beings to shorter reins. She then opened the cloth satchel previously slung over her shoulder and dumped it's contents out, two Barabel heads, that tumbled about only slightly as she nudged them forward with her foot.

She couldn't help but smirk slightly as she looked proudly towards Ahnju and remarked,

*Hsssss* "Mooore troophiesss fooorr lorrrd Ahnnjusss collect-shun," she finished motioning to the fresh Klatoonian head on the floor nearby, and a handful of others now apparent in the crowd, some being kicked and others tossed about. . .(TBC More Here! Same Scale Channel, Same Scale Schedule!)

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #6 on:** April 21, 2014, 06:03:03 PM »

The Huntress I.IV

The room waited in baited anticipation for a cue on how to react. The Hutt gave the confident Trandoshan a sly cocked look and visual assessment, taking note of the reptilian beings presentations. Then narrowing his gaze and glaring about the chamber he borrowed the concept and exclaimed,

"Bootas!! Noo cassa cheega moko kamadoosh! (Fools! Any grub holding my trophies is a dead man!)," he threatened with a stubbed arm and finger held high.

The dozen or so other severed heads of various species came tossed, rolling and tumbling in from the now muted frozen crowd towards Ahnju's throne-sled . Satisfied for now, the Hutt tossed another squirming slimey creature in to his mouth, loudly chomping and gulping before granting a proceeding,

"Gotas! Choobah ichee mopah, (Herald! Proceed with the formalities,)" Ahnju declared with waving dismisal, returning attention to his nearby snack filled aquarium, his mood slightly lightened with a subtle eager anticipation.

The Gran had stoicly waited his masters retort and now spoke up with a bit more poise after first clearing his throat,

*Uh-uh-Ahem* "(Glorious Lord Ahnju Besadii!, Prikesshk of Trandoshan presents and formally claims your Lords bounty upon two-well known pirate criminals, the Barabel Butcher Brothers, both deceased. And in addition to these violent leeching scoundrels, she presents alive, two known members of the outlawed Slick Squad of Techno Terrorists. In all the Tracker requests the posted Guild rated sums for each, totalling thirty-five thousand galactic credits),"

The Hutt replied in contrasting delight to his previous demeanor, "OH-Hohoho, Keesee oowangee! Broka tahga chuchunee, unt gahma laffa roosoe! Umproosa dada seesee kamala!(Splendid! Someone finally graces my chambers with good news today! And such impressive collars for a yet unknown hunter!),"

Prikesshk let out a fang filled grin and hissed back, "Sssoooner than yet i think my Lord" *Hssssss*

"OOOH-Ho-ho-ho!! Gungo kowala beesah! Kee voe gah, kee voe gah, Ha-ha-ha! (Such brash confidence! I like that, I like that!)," the Hutt chuckled and retorted before giving a moment of pause to consider a counter-offer.

"Hmmmmmmm, Do-Gus Truguts! (Five-thousand truguts!)," the Hutt proclaimed in expectation of acceptance and feeling particularly generous himself.

The Trugut was the official form of currency in the realm of Hutt Space. Before the rise of the Empire, they exchanged at a rate of one per ten standard galactic credits. Since then, they've been in steady decline as the galactic credit has steadily gained, now traded at roughly half the pre-Imperial rate.

Prikesshk knew the under cut she'd take in accepting the offered truguts, but already knowing full well the pain of first having to bow in order to then rise, she gave only a feigned consideration before bluntly accepting,

"Agreed," she answered the Hutt with a tilted nod of oblige, tweaking his already swooning demeanor with the reptilian Bount Hunter,

"Moobas! (Excellent!)" he bellowed. "(Now, with business aside my new friend, tell me. What brings a new face such as yours here? To what end does your skill for, eh..violence, heh heh, bring you?)" he then inquired of the Trandoshan.

Prikesshk took a momentary glance about the chamber, hesitating to reply. Knowledge had proven as much powerful for herself and clan back home on Dosha as did strength. She carried the lesson forth to the stars. Deciding it of inconsequence, she offered the truth,

"I come for redemption. To seek power," she stated plainly locking stares with Ahnju.

"(Oooooh, huh huh, redemption in the eyes of who?)" the slug-man further devled.

Prikesshk held her head high and answered, "My God. My clan. And Self." she finished with a tick of the forked tongue and sense of satisfication.

The Hutt chuckled again before lecturing, "Ooh-ho-ho-ho, (My little Huntress, I have been alive longer than youre people have had a word for your god. And your clan? Are they not why you are now out here so far from home? The self is all you can count on, and the only one to whom redemption matters. But come, let me show you something of power)."

Snapping his flubbery fingers and looking off to the shadows on the chamber perimeters, he called out to some particular henchman,

"Doebras! Booma kah Brilla Weech! (Bring me the Little Witch!)"

The motley assortment of beings making up the chamber crowd erupted in to a collective anxious rumbling of fear. After a few moments, a large mechanical clanging preceeded a metallic grinding and rolling as an entry apparently opened. The crowd began to rapidly and widely part as they all seemingly attempted to hide behind another nearby body. A small shadow approached slowly from the door and pathway, coming in to focus as it drew near.

A small narrow black robed and hooded figure stood in the center of the chamber, several meters from the Hutt, Trandoshan and bulky Gamorrean. The only three beings in the room who seemed to not feel threatened by the tiny form. . .(TBC NOT SOON ENOUGH!)

Rinny · « **Reply #7 on:** April 24, 2014, 10:33:33 AM »

Nar Shaddaa was loud, smelly, and dangerous to those without requisite street smarts, but for Nashara Vaelen it was the only place she'd ever been. In fifteen years she had never been off world and rarely ventured beyond a few square miles, horizontal or vertical, of Ahnju the Hutt's prime cluster of buildings. She knew little and cared even less about the politics of the galaxy at large, though she was still fascinated by the outlandish stories traders, veterans, and other sorts would tell as they passed through the casinos and cantinas. To her Core worlds like Coruscant or Alderaan may have well been made up fairytale kingdoms as such was the likelihood she would ever see them. Even if she saved every credit she earned or stole, it would still be years before she would ever be able to leave.

   The scene before her as she sat perched on an extra large barrel of some exotic spirit was much as it was any night in the great audience chamber. A throng of beings, many already inebriated, had come to pay homage, seek favors, or just enjoy the show. The mood was a notch tenser than usual after the recent brutality carried out against the organization. A slew of cheers and howls sang from the crowd as the executioner's axe claimed another tribute causing Nashara to glance up slightly from picking at a packet of jerky.

   Leaning on the wall next to her was an agitated Nikto, though they were of a similar age the Nikto was already quite larger; even sitting a meter off the ground she could still look him in the eye as he slouched against the wall.

   "[Should be out there looking for the bastards that did this.]" The Nikto ground out in Huttese.

   "So go, Sal." Nashara frowned as he reached over and snatched a piece of jerky out of shiny orange packet in her hands.

   "[Aren't you supposed to be his little spy?]"

   Nashara's shoulders shrugged. "Lord Ahnju's enemies aren't exactly lining up to tell a teenage girl their attack plans. No one else knows anything. Hey, who's that?" She jerked her head to where a Gran was offering flowery platitudes and a newcomer was presenting trophies to Ahnju. "What is it?"

   "[Heads.]"

   "No, stupid, the alien."

   Half of the Nikto's prominent brow ridge quirked up as he smirked at her. "[Who's the stupid one--that's a Trandoshan. Wasn't your pop after the Brothers?]"

   "Yea, he'll be cranky when he gets back, and he's already as hot as Ahnju for blood over what happened." The two went back to picking at what was left of the jerky mostly ignoring the continued conversation between the Hutt and newcomer until Ahnju's voice boomed across the chamber and the noise of the crowd died into nervous whispers.

   While most were trying to make themselves small away from one of the Hutt's mysteriously eerie pets, including Sal who had found the vibroknife tucked inside his trousers and gripped it tightly as he edged slowly towards the exit. Nashara instead hopped off the barrel and pushed her way through the alien bodies to the edge of the widening circle that had formed around the small cloaked figure. She let out a breath and pushed messy dark brown locks away from her face, morbid fascination overtaking fear.

   There had been whispers and rumors of Ahnju's strange acquisition ranging from the mundane to the absolutely absurd. Nashara's curiosity had gotten the better of her when she had caught whiff of a rumor that it was a girl which had earned her a whipping from one of the enforcers and then another from her father for sticking her nose where it didn't belong. That was more than enough to deter her from asking questions but now that the mysterious thing was on display that curiosity came bubbling back to the surface.

SWSF Hale · « **Reply #8 on:** April 28, 2014, 08:20:22 PM »

JEDI KNIGHT GUNNAR KENDRIK

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.
If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.
If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.
Sun Tzu (The Art of War)

>> NAR SHADDAA // AHNJU'S DISTRICT [BESHTAK PALACE] 0430 HOURS

The Beshtak Palace heist wasn't easy, but everyone agreed things would be getting harder from here on out. Nar Shaddaa Investigative Services had all but concluded that the hit was carried out by a small paramilitary group, and so the open call for bounty hunters and private security firms all but gauranteed that Kendrik's outfit would soon be under heavy heat. The only saving grace and silver lining about the whole situation was that the 8 million credits on a planet like Nar Shaddaa could go a long way. The decision therefore was to bank 6 million, and then divide the rest amongst the outfit and lay low.

Everyone splitted off into groups of two, except for Gunnar, who decided to go it alone. In the event that his identity would be compromised, he did not want to give away the existence of the Rangers and the Dauntless simply by association. At any rate, with 100,000 credits to his name, this would be plenty of "walking around money". The plan was to wander the streets, gather intelligence, and rendezvous back at the Dauntless in a week's time. Hopefully by then, additional targets could be assessed, and Gunnar's operations could be branched out.

Gunnar wondered what the limits of his cadre could do, or even if innocent civilians could be considered acceptable collateral damage in the event of a larger and more destructive attack. More importantly were Gunnar's own personal limits. How far would he go? How long would it be before the Jedi Way he followed would become more of a burden than a blessing? These were all important questions, ones that needed answers - but not yet. No. For now, there was still too much work to do. So Gunnar calmed his mind, and began walking where the Force led him...

>> NAR SHADDAA // AHNJU'S DISTRICT [UNDERCITY, LEVEL 88] 0630 HOURS

It might have been the crack of dawn on the surface, but in the undercities, the perpetual glow of neon lights and other artificial light sources made the undercity regions a place where you couldn't tell what time of day it was. In that regard, nothing was truly special about Level 88. Ahnju's District only had 100 subsurface levels, unlike some other Hutts who's vast undercity regions went as deep as a thousand - though none could compare to Coruscant's reported 2000 in some areas. Most of it was residential anyhow, so the role it played in the grand scheme of things was relatively low. But for some reason, Gunnar felt drawn to Level 88. He didn't know why he needed to be there, but he was.

Not before long, Gunnar was walking along a pedestrian corridor before being stopped by a little boy begging for food.

"Spare some food, sir?" asked the boy.

Gunnar didn't have much on him, only a couple whey-complex bars. He gave both of them to the boy. "Where are your parents?" asked Gunnar.

"Don't have any. Don't have a place to live either."

Gunnar frowned. "Come with me."

"I can't... I'm a slave."

"Who lets their slave rot down here?"

"Ghuleemo," replied the boy.

"Who's that?"

"A really fat and slimy Rodian, down on Level 100..."

"Level 100?"

"Yeah. This is all Ahnju the Hutt's territory, but down here, Ghuleemo runs the show. Whatever scraps and crumbs that fall of the table so to speak, land down here. Slaves like me, disenfranchised dancers, blacklisted tradesmen, you name it... we're all down here. Some of us get sold off, mainly to mines so Ghuleemo can make a quick credit. Some of us just get ignored and left to fend for ourselves..."

"Like you?" Gunnar asked rhetorically, and then clenched his fist. "Well, it looks like I'll be paying a visit to this Ghuleemo..."

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #9 on:** May 01, 2014, 10:34:23 AM »

The Huntress I.V

The chamber was silent save for the slow heavy weezing of a Hutt as the shadowed form gave a slight curtsy with a down tilted head before the bulbous creature upon his throne sled.

The small cloaked figure then threw back it's hood, revealing the distinct features of a Zabrak, in adolescent tweenage female form. She drowned in the heavy black tussled woolen garment, obviously not meant for a being her size. Her small boney young frame was apparent from her thin face, neckline and hands. Skin naturally decorated with the typical sharp edged contrasting black and red tones, her eyes were a bright sparkling bronze and her hair, rare even for a female of the species, was raven like and silken. Her frontal skull horns functioned as bearers of a jeweled and golden chain link and a pair of matching polished opal like stones clung tightly to her ears. Along with her reappropriated cloak, remnants of her old life that she refused to allow be removed from her possession. Not that many had not tried. Their weight had become an extension of her own form. She couldn't remember a time without them. Now, the moments throughout her generally mundane existence in solitary captivity that she noticed them gave her pleasure in glimpses of fond memory.

She glanced about the room while remaining in place for a few moments taking in the surrounding, careful to keep blank expression. The dense motley crew of beings cautiously huddled and murmured, almost without exception careful to keep their distance and not meet her gaze,

*Spspssspspspsp* "the witch!" *spspspspspsps* "she's real!" *spspspspspspsp*

Apart, a militant looking Trandoshan, a creature she'd only ever learned about and never personally seen, stood a few meters from the towering behemoth of a Gamorrean Executioner, Chogok, with whom she was quite familiar. In all, it was by far largest audience she could ever remember being presented before and the obvious occasion peaked her interests.

Her thin neatly pursed lips barely parted as she spoke, though her voice bold and confident and her pronunciation pointed, an expected hint of teenage contempt and insolence clung to every syllable,

"So! It is a celebration then today my Lord?" she sarcastically let out with unexpected exuberance, complete with a smirk as she began to slowly pace about in inspecting fashion of the various characters in the chamber. Most in the crowd leaned back on their heels and looked away as she scanned passed them, save for a slightly shorter human female who’s forehead and eyes momentarily caught her glance peering through the dense mass of bodies. She walked a large circle and never approached too closely, just enough to infer the fear most beings seemed to place in her. It was a reaction she'd learned to cultivate whenever possible for her own welfare. Antagonizing her imprisoner was another general pass time engaged whenever possible.

Looking back to the Hutt over her shoulder, she continued to taunt as she moved casually toward the formidable looking Trandoshan and Gamorrean, her hands clasped behind her back, passing them with a brief glance and looking again about the room.

"..and to what greeaaat victory shall we toast Kajiidic Ahnju Besadii on this day?" she asked in deliberate baiting.

The Hutt's bout of jovial demeanor subsided as he erupted in retort, not to her barb at his ego but to her choice of address,

"Bagh!! Skooga! Koosa buffka choosek!! (Scum! Slaves do not use Clan names!)" he hollared as he angrily cracked his snack-quarium with a stomping fist. It began to ooze it's liquiid contents, running down the pedestal it was mounted upon and pooling onto the ground.

"(You should be lucky I still find use for you!)" he continued loudly. "(I'm sure Lord Vader would find much better use of you, eh?"), he then threatened.

The young cloaked Zabrak turned to display her coyish delight with a wide smile for the Hutt as she continued her trot temporarily backwards, her tattered sandal footwear now occasionally peaking with the awkward reverse steps,

"My apologies Lord Ahnju," she spoke now in a babyish false tone with her lips pouty. Then returning to normal snobbery and bratty plainness, "Yes, I'm sure he would. And also for you when he found out how long you've kept me to yourself? ..Eh?" she finished mockingly.

The Hutt scoffed. *Huff!* "(Little one, I have nothing but time yet your childish musings grow stale,)"

The zabrak girl now stood in place with her hands on her hips starring down the Hutt as he droaned on.

"(Perhaps another time we can focus on correcting your lack of respect, for now a demonstration will do. Touch this Trandoshans mind.)" he commanded her motioning to the alien.

The girl glanced to the reptilian humanoid for a few moments, her gaze narrowed as she very slightly cocked her neck in wonder,

She glanced back to the Hutt and hid her own surprise, responding, "It won't work. She's not there."

The Hutt again scoffed. *BAGH!* "(Lies child! Touch her!)" he again demanded louder.

"I told you, she's not there! Her mind, it's.. different. Not like others.. yours I can sense. Hers.. it's not even there" she answered while now inquisitively sizing up the alien.

"Gabba! Chogok! Koon bah gassa keewannee! (Enough! Chogok! Motivate this peasant!)" the Hutt ordered the Gamorrean with a strong emphatic pointing gesture.

The Gamorrean let on a devilish grin, his jowls curling up displaying his large boar like teeth, gums oozing with saliva. He let out a grunting chuckle as he hoisted the heavy long armed vibro axe up and began a slow trudge toward the girl.

The Zabrak stumbled from her commanding social perch as her expression conveyed worry. Her hands dropped from her waist and were raised partially up and out as if to shield herself. As the monstrous beast trudged onward directly toward her she began taking hesitant steps backward. The onlooking crowd buffered and parted as she backed nearer and nearer a wall of the circular chamber. The Executioner’s trudge turned to a flat out run, his likely half ton mass heaving forward at an astounding rate as he swung back the vibro axe preparing to strike.

Her back now against the wall and the crowd howling on her would-be assailant, she ducked and rolled left just as the Gamorrean rushed upon her, swinging his weapon down and across with a two handed lunge. The brute force melded with miniscule technological wonder drove down in to the metallic wall itself leaving a gaping gouge, like peeled back skin revealing a small section of the innards of an organism, until becoming lodged in place. The beast proceeded to wrestle with freeing the vibro axe for a few moments before succumbing to fatigue and resting against the wall.

Growing bold and losing the perception of fear, a few members of the previously faceless crowd near the Zabrak girl took some initiative for themselves and grabbed her by the arms as she kicked and screamed, her previous commanding composure having completely evaporated,

"Ahh! Let go of me you impotent wamprats!" she shouted.

They began manhandling her back towards Ahnju's throne sled, as the winded Gamorrean, Chogok lumbered over. The audience was now in full riot.

The restrainers forcibly yanked the over sized cloak from the girls arms and shoulders and tossed it aside, revealing her somewhat uncomfortably, all but exposed save for a few tattered pieces of scavenged cloth. She gritted her teeth and spoke fierce and quiet,

"You'll be sorry for that," she muttered starring at one of them out the corner of her eye as they filled with anger and she twisted herself in place as if to cover skin with skin.

The Executioner now stood before the restrained girl and slowly pulled a long bladed machete-like knife from it's holster on his hip. He tested it's sharpness on his thumb nail, though more like a stubby talon, slicing off a small chip. Satisfied, her took the couple steps forward and bent down to look the tiny near naked and seemingly helpless girl in the eyes. As he held her chin up with one of his clammy large thick hands, the tightly clenched long knife in the other reflected in both their visions as they locked stares.

The sparkle of the Zabrak girls eyes vanished as her pupils tightly constricted. The ruckus of the chamber faded to a muffled hum in her head. The Gamorrean's sinister grin had slowly faded to a slightly gaping mouthed drool. His deliberate stare more to an empty zoning. He didn't blink or move as he was stooped slightly over while the young girl gazed in to him for several moments. When she was finished, she finally began blinking rapidly as if to clear her vision and tried to shake some kind of feeling out of her head, acting as though afflicted with a migraine. The Gamorrean rose back to full height, eyes shrunken to tiny black specs. He looked from side to side at the two beings restraining the Zabrak then to the large knife in his hand. Looking back to one of the beings, without second thought he thrust with his muscular arm in a stabbing upper cut, ripping through the Si'Klaatan's chin and piercing up through his mouth in to his cranial cavity. The tip of the knife popped out the top of his skull followed by gently rolling streams of red. The crowd’s tone had switched back to an uproarious fearful clamor.

As the being dropped in to a pool of blood, the other clenching the Zabrak dropped her arm and tried to back away. The Gamorrean was quick and fluid to snatch it by the throat and effortlessly nearly twist it's head off. The limp body flopped to the ground near the other. The Gamorrean just stood in place now dazedly looking off in to the distance. He then drew his blaster pistol and put it against the side of his head. His blank open mouth stare and pin point eyes seemed to fade at the exact moment he pulled the trigger, replaced by his usual sick grin and big dopey pupils, until those too seemed to fade in an instant as three lifeless bodies now lay on the ground in front of Ahnjus throne sled. The crowd was in shock and resumed silent terror.

By now the Zabrak girl was retrieving her discarded cloak, throwing it back over her shoulders and arms and wrapping it closed. Her intentionally contorted concealing posture returned to one of simple confident presence. She combed and fixed her hair to straightness with her fingers, tucked it back behind her ears and returned to her stance in front of Ahnju, amidst the warm corpses.

She spread her arms in an encompassing motion about the immediate surrounding area and offered, "Your demonstration my Lord," plainly before tossing her hood back up, and folding her hands and arms over her chest and in to her sleeves.

The Hutt was full of satisfaction as he boasted to the Trandoshan , "Oh-ho-ho-ho! Ah-ha-ha! (That is power my friend. To not lift a finger yet bring chaos to your enemies. To defeat them in their mind!) ha-ha-ha!"

The Trandoshan let on a toothy grin and agreed, “Impresssssive Lort Ahnju, but, sheathed bladesss draw no blood..,” she answered and left hanging, referencing the apparent secrecy with which the girl was treated.

The Hutt smiled, pleased that the Reptilian seemed to be picking up on his intent and direction,

“Oo-ho-ho! (Yes, yes, it seems you are something special to my scaly friend. Let us find what you both are made of, I have a mission for you- there is no redemption in it, but plenty of reward and with that, power made attainable,) the Hutt said now chuckling as he fingered some of the residual oozing slime from his now emptied snack bowl and licked his fingers clean.

The Zabrak peered over to the Trandoshan from under her hood as Ahnju’s new apparent agent approached her side. Standing together, with a clawed hand placed on her shoulder, the reptile hissed her gratitude,

*Hssss* “My sword is yourss, thisss slave shall be sssafe in my keep” . . . (TBC, EDIT- K I finally proofread it and fixed some of the out of place garbage! sorry! hope it flows and is decent read! A short new piece will follow soon that covers the girl more personally to and will even make some of this part make more sense! ;p)

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #10 on:** May 12, 2014, 10:22:53 PM »

The Huntress I.V.I
(ooh yeaaaah, I went to a patch decimal.)

She breathed half a sigh of relief as the large steel door to the Court Chamber rolled closed at her back, leaving behind the public display. A droid handler and pair of especially dopey seeming Si'Klaatan thugs with prominent surgical scarring about their heads greeted her for escort back to her personal prison. They passed down several turbo-lifts and hallways before arriving at an Detention Block area in the structures bowels that seemed abandoned save for the arrivals. It was of the expected comforts in a Hutt administrated dungeon, dark and dank. Walls that seemed like hard dry mud or clay, the occassional flickering light element dangling from the ceiling, large hulking pieces of weathered and rusted metal sculptures, their nefarious pain inflicting purposes self-evident. They strolled on, the droid leading the way as in the depths of the structure they now moved through what seemed like a maze of carved out halls and corridors. They passed empty cell after empty cell until halting at a more polished type of metal door. One of the Si'Klaatans slowly floundered with a dated set of electronic keys outside the door to her cell before finely managing to manipulate the correct one properly to send the door sliding hastily up in to the ceiling, a seeming out of place piece of technology amidst the natural materials the rest of the area seemed to be composed of.

It was dark inside, lit only from the timid intruding glow of the hallway lighting. There was not much to it. Ten by ten meters, plain dark sediment walls. A basic wooden and cloth cot slightly off center from the middle of the room. A hole roughly the size of an average humanoid head in one corner that opened who knows where, a neatly carved out inlaid shelf held a few hand made knick knacks on the wall across from it. The slight bit of illumination highlighted a large running series of similar seeming markings wrapping around the walls at about mid height, a way of keeping track of time she'd made up.

She took a few steps in and remained with her back to the door. It shut abruptly behind her, rays of artificial light now cast in only through the small barred view port. But the lights in the hallway itself were only on for what seemed to be about half of the day. The rest of the time darkness engulfed her existence.

She waited a few moments and listened for the familiar foot steps to reach some distance. Like the flip of a switch then, her solemn blankness caved. Her chest working quickly up to heaving breaths in a moment and eyes welling up she collapsed to the floor, now even more consumed by the bulky outer cloak. She cried out in emotional pain and trauma, fully bawling as she picked her head up only a moment to scream and again bury it in her cloak. Even in it's dried out old age, not absorbent enough to soak up all the hurt pouring out of her. She struggled to get a breath in moments between uplifted muted gaping sobs that felt like they went on for hours themselves.

Her mind meandered in slow panic. The word Failure consumed her. Her existence felt voided. Her Teacher's legacy disgraced. Everything she'd been taught, everything she'd learned in her former life as a discipline of the Light, the one thing she clung to in her mind to keep her sanity for the last several years crumbled to pieces. For the first time in her life, she'd used her extraordinary Power in the Force to take life in vengeance and hate. The tenants of her faith now lay in ruin by her own hand. Was she even a Jedi anymore?

Hours passed, eventually the hallway lighting clicked off, leaving her literally with nothing but her thoughts. Her vocal display of torment had ceased as she now sat on the floor with her knees up to her chin and rocked slowly back and forth. Her eyes still moist though no longer streaming, she stared straight ahead in to the complete darkness. . .

SWSF Hale · « **Reply #11 on:** May 19, 2014, 01:54:54 PM »

JEDI KNIGHT GUNNAR KENDRIK

Nobody can give you freedom.
Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything.
If you're a man, you take it.
Malcom X

>> NAR SHADDAA // AHNJU'S DISTRICT [UNDERCITY, LEVEL 100] 0847 HOURS

The one thing that suprised Gunnar about Level 100 was how nice it was. It actually smelled and looked... clean, of all places. Perhaps it was all the droids and slaves that kept the conditions of Level 100 to high standards. Whatever the case, Ghuleemo seemed to be making Level 100 his own personal palace to rival that of the ones on the surface.

Of course, it was highly populated. Unlike the scarce levels that preceeded it, Level 100 apparently was bustling with businesses, restaurants, and bars. All the crumbs that fall off the table wind up on Level 100 seemed to be the recurring motif. Unlike the surface levels, which were highly regulated by the Hutts, Ghuleemo apparently had impunity to do whatever he wanted, despite the fact that he himself was one of Ahnju's lieutenants. Gunnar figured Ahnju wasn't the kind of Hutt that traversed to the Undercity, few Hutts did anyhow, and so the atmosphere was more that of a wayward pirate cove you'd expect to see on another outer rim spaceport, rather than an extension of Nar Shaddaa's surface.

As Gunnar was walking the streets, it didn't take long before getting propositioned.

A young woman, with fair blonde hair and orange skin approached Gunnar, "hey there big guy, looking for a date?" she said, as she revealed some leg from the cloak she was wearing. If this were any other time or place Gunnar would simply ignore or refuse the offer, but he felt he needed to obtain a contact and some information. Bartenders and prostitutes often provided the greatest leeds, because they were the ones on the streets the most.

"Sure," replied Gunnar, as he slipped her a few credit coins. "Let's go to someplace safe first."

"Hmmmm, alright. Follow me."

She eventually led Gunnar down a long alley that got progressively darker until they reached a dead end. After moving some junk out of the way, she pushed a few buttons on what appeared to be a hidden control panel. This opened a hidden door that revealed a room with red light. Gunnar followed her in. The red room was akin to a hole than anything else. Just a bed and a sink. As soon as Gunnar stepped fully inside, the door shut.

"Soo..." the woman said. "You're some kind of Jedi aren't you?"

Gunnar smirked. "And you're no whore. Where did you get your cloak? That fabric and thread pattern is Jedi Order."

"Keen eyes, Jedi. And you're right. I'm no whore - well - at least not when I need debts paid. I work for Ghuleemo."

"What's your name?" asked Gunnar.

"Kassandra Jax. Your turn."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Standing bounty on Jedi these days is 5 Million dead or alive," replied Gunnar.

Kassandra smirked, "oh is it 5 Million now? Last time I checked it was 1 Million."

"Yeah that was during the Clone Wars. Things have changed since then -- Ghuleemo must not let you out much."

"News of the galaxy doesn't get down here that often. It's all scraps. And you're right about Ghuleemo. Slaves are restricted to Level 100 only. Bottom of the barrel," replied Kassandra.

"Let's get back to that Jedi cloak you're wearing... how did you come about it?"

"A bounty hunter. Said he off'd a Jedi woman, but not before his men stripped her down and had their way with her. This was her only article of clothing left that wasn't ripped. It's worth thousands of credits so he paid me with it."

Gunnar's hand clinched, and he could feel the Dark Side creeping - so he took a deep breath and calmed down. Another Jedi sister sexually assaulted then killed? He would have to get to the bottom of this. "What was the name of this bounty hunter?"

"Some Weequay guy. Big. Calls himself The Titan. Don't know his real name... wish I could help more," replied Kassandra.

Gunnar sighed.

"But that doesn't mean our business is done here," she said, as she stepped closer to Gunnar and began taking his cloak off.

"What are you doing?" Gunnar was taken aback.

"I can tell you're under a lot of stress. Why don't you just relax here with me for a while?" replied Kassandra, as she began taking her clothes off.

"I..."

"Shhhhhhh," she said as she flicked the switch to turn down the lights.

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #12 on:** May 20, 2014, 05:49:44 PM »

The Huntress I.V.II

Meanwhile, late in to the nite following the Beshtak assault. . .

Only moments since being endowed with a hovering clout in the form of Ahnju's direction and endorsement, both respect and contempt already followed. The Trandoshan Tracker proudly bid the Hutt her thanks and assured him of her favorable completion of the task. As she turned to leave the assembly parted her path. Some beings nodded, others growled discontent. She neared the exit where a group of larger stocky and threatening aliens bregrudingly crowded her path and cursed her as she elbowed through. It was a feeling that reminded her of the digust her successes inspired in competitors on Dosha. The recollection tinged her pleasure nerve and forced a fiendish grin.

Prikesshk had declined Ahnju's offer of personal quarters and elected to return to her ship to prepare for the following mornings venture- direct inspection of the still fresh scene of the Beshtak attack, passing close now to only a day old. The Zabrak girl would be in her custodianship, a powerful being and equally powerful sign of Ahnju's trust in the Tracker. She passed through several corridors and automated door ways and numerous sets of murmuring guards and servants before reaching the hangar bay where the Settled Score waited.

"Hu..err, Mistress Prikesshk!," the vigilant droid Emfordee eagerly greeted her return as he loosened his rigid stance and seemed to dance in place near the boarding ramp. "H-how was it? Did you get to kill the others?! Is there anyone else we get to kill!?" he anxiously probed.

The Reptilian hissed her growing resent and responded with a shove and orders as she strode up the gang plank, *Hssss* "Later! Come, we make ready. Hunt in morning," she informed him. The droid hurriedly scampered behind her.

Inside the dim red lit interior of the ship, she directed the droid to a nearby power station and shut him down. She then entered a small plain steel panelled room ancillary the cockpit and sat down crossed legged on the floor upon a weathered wookie pelt. A large screen folded down from the ceiling and began projecting a hologram of Dosha along with a Trandoshan face that quietly played a recorded message. She seemed to skip past several such transmissions taking only brief assessment of their beginnings. Afterward she manipulated several entries in to a virtual keyboard, first noting a fresh deposit in her private account, then for a couple hours in apparent database searches, scanning through dossiers on dozens of beings whos images popped up, eventually a particular caught her interests and she spent an inordinate amount of time studying, passing and returning to a large hulking Weequay, whos alias was predominantly noted... Titan.

Eventually, returning to her personal quarters for the first time in several standard days, she entered a much needed rest phase. Her path to evening scores was coming closer to fruition. A solitary thought penetrated her otherwise complete subconscious focus of the task at her hand. She'd witnessed many things in her lifetime. The Trandoshans had Sorcerers themselves. But she'd seen nothing of the strange powers the tiny being seemed to wield that nite. Prikesshk had felt nothing when the Zabrak girl stood gazing at her, but the muscular Gamorrean seemed to act as her puppet. Did the little mysterious sorceress truly have no power over her? And why? The small fragile girls likeness haunted the bottom most of her thoughts.

Rinny · « **Reply #13 on:** May 23, 2014, 09:48:40 AM »

   Completely spellbound Nashara watched the antics of the sarcastic and irreverent Zabrak girl wondering how someone could be so flippant with a Hutt. When the Gammorrean charged at her and then some emboldened crowd members pounced, Nashara's fingers grasped the small dirk tucked into her belt--more so to protect herself if the crowd became too out of control. Arms and legs jostled her from side to side and she tried to keep low and avoid any inadvertent blows from flailing elbows or weapons. She tried to push again towards the front of the crowd but a bloody fever had taken over the room; Nashara could hear screaming amidst the jeering.

   In the ruckus she thought she heard someone calling her name, but still she pushed forward. In the end she got close enough to look over the heads of a pair of Ugnaughts just as Chogok the executioner put a blaster to his head and took his own life amidst the blood and gore and bodies of the lives he took. Silence fell over the once riotous crowd and Nashara's jaw hung open in confusion at the violence spread out on the floor and the slight, nearly naked girl now covering herself back up with her oversized cloak. Her confusion only grew when the Zabrak took responsibility for the carnage that had occurred.

   Strong fingers gripped her elbow suddenly and dug in so fiercely she nearly cried out. "Let's go," growled a familiar voice and began dragging her without any consideration for her or the people he pushed out of the way to get to the exit.

   Once they made it through the throng of bodies, his grip moved from her elbow to her upper arm just as tightly and he didn't release her until they were out of the building and onto that level's landing platform. Roughly she was tossed into a still running airspeeder and seconds later they were in the air joining the still crowded night sky traffic.

   The short journey was spent in silence. Nashara slouched with her arms crossed across her chest, glowering as she watched the other speeders and buildings pass. Her father's demeanor was similar as he angrily steered the vehicle until it found its landing spot atop a relatively short building whose intermittent lights conveyed the dilapidated feel rather well. The younger Vaelen managed to elude the elder's grasp as they exited the speeder and avoided being dragged down several flights of stairs.

   "Krif, I'm going already." She grumbled under her breath. All she heard was a grunt as she hurried ahead.

   The door to the small flat slowly started to creak open and Nashara pushed it the rest of the way, passing the small kitchen to the left and into the sitting room, which was also her bedroom, with its couch, table, and holo viewer. There was a door leading to the actual bedroom off to the right and she didn't watch as her father lumbered in several minutes later and deposited his gear the bedroom. Instead she pulled a datapad from under the couch and laid back fiddling with the device.

   "Did you not get my message, or did you just ignore it?" Finally Royston Vaelon spoke, his gruff voice breaking the silence.

   "Thought suddenly not coming around would look suspicious." Nashara continued flitting her fingers across the screen, though she was a little surprised he was actually trying to have a conversation.

   "One of Ahnju's 'tributes' right after an attack, while he's gathering his strength around him, would be a tempting target." Royston made a point to pull his blasters from their holsters and check them over.

   Nashara rolled her eyes, "They were just thieves, big kriffing deal. They made a big noise, but in the end they stole some credits."

   "Idiot child." Her father growled and nearly slammed the blasters back into their holsters. "Tomorrow run systems checks on my ship and make sure all the weapons are cleaned and charged. Make yourself useful for once."

   When he moved to stand above her, Nashara quickly dropped the datapad screen to her chest.

   "Do not leave here until morning and go straight to the docking port."

   "Ok. Fine."

   Royston Vaelen left the small apartment and several minutes later his daughter cleared the cache on her datapad and slid it back under the couch. She found some boxes in the stairwell cupboard and dug through them, tossing some things into a pack and then she too left.

~*~

   Nashara had been in the detention block area of the massive prime building a few times before, though only once as a resident. However as she had recently learned, there was as an extension to the Hutt's prison system. Or rather the part that Nashara was familiar with was the extension. There was a much older section buried in the bowels of the building which apparently housed secrets of all manners dangerous and interesting.

   The bounty hunter's daughter had been a staple amongst the organization since she was a child and though it might be unusual for her to be in this particular area at this time of night, she found that if you walked with purpose like you were supposed to be there, rarely any of the grunts would question you. The trick was to avoid anyone too high in the pecking order, or thought too highly of their position.

   Her Nikto friend, Sal, had been happy to volunteer that he knew things about the inner workings that she didn't. She had been cautious not to reveal the goal of her query during their exchange of messages. Nashara took a quick breath and then slammed her shoulder into one of the two Si'Klaatan guards walking down the dimly lit and otherwise empty hallway.

   "Watch where you're going you oaf!" Nashara snapped at him and shoved him away from her, spitting on the floor back at him as she walked away. If anyone had seen it they likely would have found it quite amusing, the slight human girl yelling at shoving at a creature twice her size, but none would have seen her fingers slipping into his pocket to grasp at the dated, clunky set of keys. A split second of panic jolted through her but in the next she was steps down the hall with her mark being none the wiser.

   Several long seconds and a few turns later she had been plunged into a total darkness until she pulled the thin metal cylinder and clicked the button illumining the small torch. Carefully she counted the hallways, turns, and doors she passed, attempting to create a mental map as she searched for the markings she had been told to keep an eye out for.

   Standing up on her toes, Nashara shined the light through the barred window catching glimpse of a slightly twitching lump of fabric in the middle of the room. With a few final glances down the dark hallway, she pressed the keys to the corresponding mechanism until the correct one hit home sending the door sliding up. She took a couple steps into the room and briefly scanned the cell with the light before settling onto the lump of dark cloth. An instant later a small, tattooed face appeared peering out timidly.

   "Stop there! Don't come any closer! Who are you?!" The Zabrak's voice sounded much softer than Nashara had remembered it. Before she could respond the girl spoke again as she rose from the ground, clutching her cloak around her. "You... you were at the demonstration."

   Nashara was unsure if the girl's tone had been accusatory but something akin to guilt washed over her all the same. She had become numb to the sort of violence that surrounded her life, but there was something very different about what had happened that night.

   "I'm Nashara," she said finally. "I was there, which is why I brought you this." She pulled the pack from her back. Inside was a crumpled up pale blue shirt and a pair of grey trousers which she pulled out and held out to the Zabrak girl. "Even a slave deserves to have clothes."

   The Zabrak snatched the garments from the unexpected visitor and moved quickly into the shadows, away from the light with her back to the human girl. She awkwardly balanced and squirmed behind her cloak as she slid the offerings on and tossed the old, tattered strips aside. Adjusting them, she looked back to her guest.

   "Slave?" Huffpptt," she scoffed. Fixing her cloak and closing it more loosely now over her clothes she turned and took a few steps back towards Nashara. Unsure of the purpose of the visit, she put up her facade of command. Boldly she declared as she smirked with confidence, "Have you seen many slaves do what I can?"

   Nashara blinked at her in slight confusion. "No, but I don't see many free beings living half naked in a tiny locked room hidden in a section of this tower that hardly anyone knows about."

   The Zabrak winced at the defeat in logic then edged closer and held out her hand in a vague, casting-like motion before threatening, "Why has Ahnju sent you here? Speak before I touch your mind and make you!"

   The human flinched and took a step backwards. "Are you kidding? I would be dead if anyone knew I was here! I just wanted to see--"

   Her brow furrowed and she lashed out. "To see me? Like a circus animal? Or maybe a monster!" It was offensive and yet it was what she had become accustomed to and expected, forced, to act. "Now with clothes... thanks. Nice key by the way, do you mind?" The red and black skinned girl presumptuously stated then rhetorically queried as she made a slight gesture with her outstretched hand.

   Nashara's arm jerked forward and her hand opened sending the keys airborne and dropping to the dusty ground in between them. Nashara gasped and stood frozen in place, suddenly realizing what a terrible idea this had all been. "Look, they're letting you out tomorrow anyway, can't you wait a few more hours to escape and not get me killed?"

   "Why should I trust you? You work for him."

   So far neither had made a move for the key.

   "You're right, I wouldn't trust me either. So just take the clothes and think of how to give the weird alien the slip in that Beshtak mess. If you do make it, be careful; Ahnju has eyes and ears everywhere."

   "Why are you helping me?" she asked curiously, still suspicious but her arm slowly dropped from its threatening arc.

   "Maybe one day you'll help me in return." Nashara stated as if it were the obvious reason.

   After a couple more breaths still neither girl had moved. Nashara took a slow step forward and bent down to grab the keys. She wished there was more she could do, but at least on this matter Ahnju would have one less set of eyes and ears. As she backed up towards the door, Nashara offered the Zabrak a small smile as if to say 'good luck.' Glancing down the hallway, she stepped out of the room and watched as the door once again dropped to the floor and locked in place.

   As the door slid shut and sealed with a suction type hiss, the Zabrak dashed forward and stood up on her toes to look out through the bars, grasping them with her hands. The human was several paces down the hall, but stopped as the imprisoned girl called out, "Nashara! You never asked my name."

   Nashara reversed her quiet hustle away, turning back to reply, "I told you mine, figured you'd tell me if you wanted."

   The red and black skinned girl answered eagerly, "Ock'lana was--IS my name. Ock'lana is my name." What followed was the first true smile she could remember since everything in her life had changed.

   Nashara shared in the small glimpse of happiness. "I hope to see you again, Lana." She turned and made her way back through the dark maze to return what had been stolen hopefully without being discovered.

   Ock'lana released her grip and slid her back down the door to the ground. She pulled a pinch of the light blue shirt away from her body to simply feel its soft texture in the darkness. She hadn't told anyone her name since her captivity, never meeting anyone she could trust well enough or anyone who had done anything for her of their own volition. It felt good to confide in another being again and exchange the warmth of a smile. The knot of tension that had been in the pit of her stomach all night seemed to finally fade. Thankfully there was more now to occupy her mind than her self-diagnosed failures. Morning would soon come and so she drifted off to sleep on the dirty floor of her tiny cell and imagined some other world's beaming morning sun and wide open blue skies.

SWSF Eidolon · « **Reply #14 on:** May 25, 2014, 10:35:05 PM »

The Huntress I.VI

Lana stood before the massive main hangar bay door of the Kla'tajjdag anxiously waiting to be unleashed. Her large bulky fur cloak was neatly brushed and arranged though more loosely tied than usual. Her underlying garments apparrent, plain grey slim pants cut off mid calf and a soft powder blue shirt. Her crowning and ear adornments seemed to be polished and glimmered brighter. Her hair, though always straight, was especially finely groomed through some improvised means achieved in her simple existence of confinement.

The pair of surgically dumbed Klatooinians and inquisitor type droid whom had essentially exclusively been her keepers and escorts for the last four years in captivity stood behind her as the wide main hangar door began loudly creaking open and the bright orange morning beam of Nal Hutta's star Y'Toub began flooding the vast spacious bay in a gradually growing plane. The persistent breeze and brash gusts followed a few moments after, sending strands of her long hair fluttering out of place and her jeweled adornments shimmering. She squinted for a few moments to adjust as the door cleared her view line and the blinding glare hit her face. As her vision acclimated to the all consuming natural lighting, the silhouette of a modest sized sleak streamline ship idling on the platform outside took shape. It's engines hum was apparent over the now materializing bustle of Nar Shaddaan commerce and commute traffic in the distance.

The lack of fanfare was a surprise. She'd expected Ahnju to see her off. Half disappointed in a chance to stoke his flames, perhaps it was best she figured. It had to be a stroke of insanity for him to send her out like this in the first place.. or on second thought, a Hutt was seldom ever as simple thinking as they often came off. Maybe there was more to it. The last time she'd really tried to escape was over a year ago, Ahnju left her lost in the maze for weeks before retrieving and returning her to her cell. She'd trapped and ate vermin to survive after meditation failed and malnourishment made it impossible. Could a taste of freedom really be this close now?

"So this is goodbye then?" she looked back slightly and asked the droid in jest and purposeful probing. It's how she usually got any idea of what was going on.

It responded in a reverberated electronic voice, "Your transfer of custodianship to Prikesshk T'kosska is a legally binding contract under Article SLV-99 of the Kajidic Huttuk Confederation. Upon expiration of license or completion of mission, ownership will revert to Ahnju Besadii and you will return here,"

"Prikesshk huh..where's she taking me?" the girl queried further.

The droid seemed to sigh in annoyance before blurting away, "the Beshtak Palace, renown Casino and Hotel, Ahnju Commercial District. At approximately Zero Four Thirty hours early yesterday morning an unauthorized incursion and incident occured on the twenty-eighth and up levels. The investigation continues across multiple agencies to bring the responsible parties to justice."

Lana cocked one brow back while sharply elevating the other, "So I'm a detective now??"

"Proceed," the droid replied in dismissal as the large spanning hangar door finished it's ascent and the group moved out on to the platform toward the waiting vessel.

As they stepped clear of the tower palace's walls and out in to the morning Nar Shaddaan sky, the wind picked up considerably as did the groans, whoops and whines of near and distant repulsor engines and star drives. A few ships here and there zipped about outside of the otherwise smoothly flowing well-defined transit sky-lanes.

The unceremonious procession approached the idling vessel where it's boarding plank lay extended. The now slightly familiar large reptile-like humanoid being stepped out from the shadow of the ship's innards and took a few steps half way down the ramp and stood stoic at a little over two meters tall. A sash consisting of at least two or three different Wookiee pelts was slung over one shoulder while a large bore specialized type of canister rifle or shotgun lay over the other. A small assortment of grenades or canister rounds lined each side of her upper chest along with numerous other gadgets and ammunitions tucked in their designed compartments on a underlying vest while her clenched clawed hands were at her hips with elbows pointed sharply out,

Lana curiously glanced about before placing a sandaled foot on the base of the plank and spoke to the Doshan directly for the first time, from several steps away,

"No theme music?" she feigned the let down and went ignored beyond the flick of a forked tongue that may have had nothing to do with it.

The droid addressed the Trandoshan while the Klatooinians stood back,

"This slave is now your temporary legal belonging. Remember, Ahnju would be gravely disappointed should anything less than safe return come to her and resolution to the task be reached," it droned out in it's fuzzy electronic voice.

"Lort Ahnju suffersss no disssappointment by my scalesss," Prikesshk hissed back.

The young Zabrak moved up the ramp towards her new custodian and quietly commented as she passed, "Steep promise, he's quite the diva.."

"Clawsss make goot for climb," she answered in literal reference following the girl in to the ship as the boarding ramp raised and closed behind them.

-=-

Inside the T'sskorda Deffka, the ornately decorated and slightly reprogrammed assassin droid Emfordee greeted them in the dim ambient red lighting.

"Diagnostics completed Mistress Prikesshk! All systems are running at their peak! What of our guest?? Shall I prepare the interrogation chamber!?" it eagerly queried.

The reptile grabbed the droid by the face and effortlessly yanked it about. Pointing to the Zabrak girl who's red skin blended with the lighting in such a fashion that besides hair and jewels only the sharp black markings gave her face definition,

"Protect with life. Ssshe tear flesh, go missing, you lose limb, go dark," the Doshan instructed and tapped on the droids heavily weaponized arm then head plating.

Emfordee winced back at the thought of separation from it's favorite appendage and grovelled in assurance,

"Y-yes Mistress! Fear not Mistress!"

"Not sure I've ever seen a droid so well dressed before.." Ock'lana interjected while sizing up the metallic being now charged with her safety.

"Noot drusssss. For protect-shunnn," Prikesshk answered.

The young zabrak girl held one of the golden scale-like plates of the droids large chest covering necklace in her palm, catching her own reflection in the polished finish,

"Don't think these are going to stop any blaster bolts or kinetic slugs," Lana replied.

The Trandoshan cracked a smirk and seemed to chuckle slightly, "Diffrent kind protect-shun. Spirits. Luck. Blessssssingsss oof thee Scorekeepah. Come," the reptile responded and ordered Ock'lana and the droid to follow after she'd slung her heavy weapon off her shoulder and locked it in to an assortedly stocked arms rack right next to the raised boarding ramp.

She let out a self-assured scoff and snort and responded in know it all fashion as she followed the large scaled alien, "Scorekeeper huh? You realize you're talking to a Jedi right?"

The reptilian stopped her stride for a moment only, "No..I dit noot," before resuming her pace and elaborating. "Have noot seen many. Those that did, never see your tricks."

Lana considered for a moment then stopped to respond with a bit of temper when she realized the inference, "I AM a Jedi," she boldly stated.

Prikesshk stopped again and turned to face the young being in a bit of a stand-off, "A Jedi would be dead," she claimed rather clearly.

Ock'lana broke her locked stare and shifted her focus about on the ground before back to the Tracker and now genuinely agitated answered in anger, "You known nothing of it simpleton.. you're..you're not even there to the Force anyways!"

Prikesshk smiled in unusual delight and snickered in a hissing manner, "Complex working for you?" *hssss-hssss-sss-ssss-s* *hsss-hss-sss-ss-s* "Am here all same. Better dead to Force for dead by it." *hsss-sss-ss-s* "You learn young one, Many Starssss, many Godssss"

The young Zabrak snarled her lip in retort and threw her cloak hood up mumbling, "there is only Light and in it's absence, the Dark". Stomping forward and passed the Trandoshan Tracker, she put up a demeanor of command, "Let's get this over with.." (TBC Next at the Beshtak! Scene of the Crime!)

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