The planning discussion can be found here.


The Lower City, teeming with strife and death always hanging on the edge, was especially packed up with low-lifes and people who have the cutthroat image of poverty. Badly clothed, in need of a bath, and hair unruly they walked among the pipes and large walkways that made up the city’s underground.
   
One individual, with his hood down, walked slowly among the beggars and hoods among the walkway that would be considered a street. Shops and signs and flashy prostitutes paid no attention to him, he was an outcast and he ignored them all. He past by hoodlums and downtrodden men and women and families, ignoring him as he did to them.
   
He took a left up a street and continued to walk, a bit of purpose in his steps as he continued on. His hands were slipped into his pockets, his thumbs out and hooked across the edge. His eyes were down, he had memorized this location a long time ago and he only needed to walk.
   
He felt the beat of the city, the heart and soul of it, his heart slowly in tune with it as he continued along his dirty path towards his destination. A door, across a shady looking cantina, with armed Rodian muscle outside of it. The man walked, slowing his pace down so he came to a stop in front of them, his eyes looking up at the smaller of the two.
   
“Here to see Ivaan’s wares.”
   
“Got the pass?” The smaller of the two asked, his blaster rifle at his side but the bigger, more muscle bound guard still held his tight in his hands, the grip he had on his a death knell. Vornis smirked as he took out a little red card, a plastic looking thing, and showed it to the guard. The Rodian nodded in confirmation and he turned around, activating the door opening console.
   
Feel sorry for the man I killed to get this.
   
The door opened, and the man slipped in.
   
He was now sure why the door quickly closed behind him.
   
He saw a massive amount of cages and holding devices, captured Twi’leks and Zeltrons and any sort of pleasurable woman in them. This, indeed, was the slave ring that the man was looking for. The room was dimly lit, and all sort of lowlife aliens were about, heckling at the girls and wondering if they are worthy enough to buy.
   
The man removed his hood, revealing his full facial features. His hair was loose, uncut, as if he hadn’t had the time to cut it or make it look nice. A little beard had grown on his face, but still neat to the point that it appeared a lot like scruff than anything else. He appeared to look like someone who lived on the Lower City streets.
   
Vornis stifled a chuckle that was going to rise through his throat.
   
He would of let it go through, even if he was trying to keep cover, but something else was bothering him. A nagging feeling that he wasn’t alone in this room. He looked around at the patrons, realizing that the feeling wasn’t that he was not alone, but that he wasn’t the only one with the Force in the room.
   
One of the slaves?
   
It has to be.
   
He shrugged.
   
It will wait. I need to accomplish my mission.
   
He began to walk among the crowds, hearing the alien chatter and the slave’s whines for freedom. He felt sick, disgusted, that he could not help them. It wasn’t his mission, he had to look for a certain one and then leave. No doubt the Jensaarai will deal with it later, it was not like them to leave a situation like this to happen.
   
He walked into the human section of the slave ring, numerous aliens crowded around to see the supple humans and their pigmentations. Again, Vornis reeched in the disgusting nature of these beasts as he walked into the crowd. His eyes darted between each of the slaves, looking at him with disgust as well. They thought of him as one of those aliens or humans who come in here to pick a slave and then do the worst possible, humiliating acts towards them.
   
He sighed.
   
He kept looking, until he stumbled upon a little girl, whimpering as she held her knees to her chest, her eyes red with sadness and lack of sleep. Vornis immediately forgot about his mission and knelt in front of the cage.
   
“Are you alright?”
   
She did not answer him, instead quickly moving to the back of the cage. The rest of the aliens around him were not interested in her, she appeared too stupid and malnourished for their needs, but Vornis was not looking to buy her.
   
“I am here to help.”
   
“Liar…” She whispered, looking at him with her deep green eyes, upsetting Vornis so much in his heart that it made him almost cry. He looked straight on at the girl, her eyes big as she tried to stay far away from him.
   
Vornis stood up and turned around, facing the slave master of this ring and slowly approaching him. He stood there, his lekku around his shoulders elegantly and a datapad in his hand as he took down notes and orders from the other customers around him.
   
He knew it was going to get a lot worse.
   
“I want number sixteen.”
   
“Ehh? So sorry, she taken. Go get other one.”
   
“No, you don’t understand. I want her.”
   
“You understand me? No, she taken!”
   
The next couple of seconds were a blurr, but the slave trader was dead. His cyan-colored lightsaber shined brightly in the dimly lit room, a hush fell over the crowd as they turned to look at the Jensaarai. A guard rushed upwards towards his location, trying to kill the intruder, but Vornis merely side-stepped and sliced downwards, severing the head from the guard’s body.
   
The crowd screamed as they tried to exit the slave ring, Vornis not caring as he quickly jumped down into the human section, quickly running towards the little girl’s cage and using his lightsaber to cut down the lock. She still would not exit when he was present, but Vornis knew that she would escape on her own. He turned around and looked towards the rest of the slaves.
   
“Help us! Please!”
   
“I plan to.”

   
   
The slaves left, everyone of them, into the streets and Vornis never saw them again. He exited the building, the two Rodians gone. He sighed with anger, his mission not yet complete, he had to stop the slave rings at their source, and he knew he had to find the leading member of it and kill him before it could go on even further.
   
One of the Rodians came back, and upon immediately seeing Vornis he drew his blaster. With the Force Vornis pulled it from his hands, the blaster wildly thrown into the street as Vornis sprinted to the guard. His hand forcefully grabbed the throat of the Rodian and thrusted him to the way.
   
“Where is the main slave ring?”
   
“Why should I tell you?”
   
Vornis, with anger, activated his lightsaber and severed off his left leg from the upper thigh.
   
“Gods, what the frak is wrong with you?!”
   
“Where is it?”
   
“Under a warehouse.”
   
“Where is the warehouse?”
   
He did not answer.
   
So Vornis severed off his right arm, from the shoulder.
   
“Oh gods, stop! Please!”
   
“Where is it!?”
   
“Near Bel’s Cantina…please, don’t kill me.”

"I wouldn't, but since you guarded the entrance to this place, willingly, I have to."
   
“No, wait, please don—“
   
His cyan shoto cut through his chest, running straight through the heart of the Rodian guard. He deactivated it, and watched as the dead guard slumped to the ground.
   
“Bel’s Cantina…I know where that is.” Vornis stated to himself, pulling down his hood, and with a new sense of direction he walked down the street, his boots striking the ground hard with each step, keeping his eyes low, trying to look as unimportant as possible.
   
But the feeling came back, the feeling of not being alone. And it made Vornis feel unnerved, not normal.
   
We will see who you are, I do not doubt that.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

The slave trade had always been a nasty business. And although Kite had seen places like this several times before, he was disgusted. The dimly lit room had a sour smell to it, the damp air heavy and uncomfortable. The only areas that were well-lit were the cages, and he was staying away from those. It was all he could do to restrain himself from freeing the slaves, come hell or high water. But he knew that it was not the right time. He would have to wait for an opportunity to present itself…'Aggressive Negotiations' would have to wait for the time being.

He was observing the clients this place brought in, and he was not surprised. Some of the worst types of being were in here, from a group of Duros to what Kite suspected was a Mandalorian. And then, an overwhelming presence entered the room. He could sense the force in the room, in an almost overwhelming concentration. Someone who was trained in the arts of wielding the force had entered the room. However, the location was difficult to pin-point. Having never truly devoted himself to mastery of force-forms, Kite found it difficult indeed to find who it was that registered so strongly in the force. And when he did, it was almost too late.

What happened could not even be considered a fight, it was over so quickly. Even Kite had difficulty following the action, with all his training and experience. A bright, light blue glow filled the room, followed by a hum and a scream. Kite hesitated for a moment, not wanting to reveal himself to this new presence. Whoever he was, he must have really disliked slavery. He easily killed another guard, not even breaking a sweat. His lightsaber, a shoto design that was usually used by Jar'Kai practitioners and in the past by shorter Jedi like Master Yoda, was a rare thing in these times. As the young man set about freeing the slaves, Kite faded into the shadows. He would have to watch this one carefully.


-Some Time Later-

Kite followed the young man out of the cantina, keeping his distance and keeping to the shadows. Once or twice he could of sworn the other had sensed, him. The young man would occasionally stop and tilt his head, as if trying to feel where exactly Kite was. However, Kite had no time to wonder exactly where he may have gotten his training. The young assassin or whatever he was had come across another of the Rodian guards. Kite moved closer, catching the last bit of their conversation.

“-warehouse.”

“Where is the warehouse?”

The Rodian did not answer.

The young man severed his arm at the shoulder, not even bothering with using the force to persuade the Rodian.

“Oh gods, stop! Please!”

“Where is it!?”

“Near Bel’s Cantina…please, don’t kill me.”

"I wouldn't, but since you guarded the entrance to this place, willingly, I have to."

“No, wait, please don—“

The Rodian's plea was cut short as the young man ran him through. Kite fought with himself to keep control; the Rodian had been defenseless, and he had been mercilessly cut down for no reason. The man was not necessarily a Sith; but he was no Jedi, and things would become difficult if they got in each other's way. Kite would have to use the young man to his advantage, possibly as a distraction. He had already done most of the work for him, finding out where he needed to be, albeit in a more gruesome fashion than Kite would have liked.

'No time to Judge…'

Kite thought as the young man went on the move again. Kite followed him carefully; this could get quite messy if he was noticed. The Lower City was too cramped with refugees to get into a fight between Force users.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

There was a flicker of light that she couldn’t see.  The Second-Hand went into hyperspace.

She had never liked hyperspace, if the truth were to be told.  There was so little to do - and even less to look at.  The swirling, blue clouds that shot past the viewports of the YT-2400 freighter were interesting enough for a few minutes.  Even beautiful.

But they got blasted monotonous after a while.

There were times that hyperspace could be interesting.  Only a few times in her past had she made an uncalculated jump a split second before being destroyed.  Then there was always the seat-of-your-pants kind of excitement that came from thinking that, at any moment, you could shoot through a star and be scattered into a half-million atoms across the galaxy.  

A poetic thought, if nothing else.  Enough to make the hyperspace trip interesting.

This was not one of those times.

Someone invaded Captain Aray Faast’s thoughts by dropping a large, calloused hand on her shoulder.  It took her absent mind a few moments to put together just who it was.  By the time she had figured it out and adjusted her expression accordingly, he was already speaking.

“We’ll be in Nar Shaddaa within 24 hours, Faast,” Nobel Danner said with a cock-eyed grin.  “Cheer up.”

Aray scowled at him, more teasing than anything else.  “I’ll cheer up when this ship is mine again,” she informed him, watching as he plopped into the copilot’s seat.  “I’ve had it with these crazy passengers.”

Danner snapped his fingers, eyes suddenly twinkling.  “Cargo.  That’s what we should handle exclusively: cargo.”  He leaned back to gaze upward, sounding dreamy.  “Cargo doesn’t talk and it doesn’t take up unnecessary space.”  

“And it’s actually worth something,” Aray agreed, lifting her eyebrows and breaking into a sly smile.  “Like, say, the illegal spice we’ve got tucked away in our cargo hold at this very moment?”

“Funny you should say that,” Danner grinned.  “I’ve just spent a marvelous twenty minutes counting the crates and estimating just how many shots of very expensive liqueur I’ll be able to purchase with my share of the profits.”

Aray actually laughed.  “Always thinking about your future, aren’t you?” she mused, swiveling her chair and running her eyes briefly over the displays.

It was hard to find the high ground, however.  Aray had already been dreaming about what kind of profits they would be making off of the small amount of pirated andris spice in the Second-Hand’s cargo hold.  It was a hard-won prize, only sweetened by the additional payment she had received from the Brav’ios Syndicate’s Kiraly, Asshur Hellesponte.  The credits were nothing to sneeze at, but the lucrative deal with the syndicate – her people having first dibs on transporting the valuable spice for Hellesponte – was what made Aray particularly happy.

Her father, the leader of the small Faast organization based off of Nar Shaddaa, would have been proud of the way she had taken a risk.  Ever since Aray had become his second in command, Hargov Faast had attempted to drill good business principles into his daughter’s head.  Risks, he pointed out, were dangerous…but they could be profitable if handled correctly.

As much as Aray hated to admit it to herself, her father had been right.

Stealing several shiploads of andris from Black Sun had probably been too risky, but it had come off.  There was no need to think about what could have happened.  

Her father would definitely be proud.

The hair-brained scheme of playing pirate had gained Aray more than just a lucrative deal with a powerful syndicate.  It had also stuffed her ship full of unwelcome guests.  Along with acquiring help from a smuggler named Jerva Kutac, who had connections to Black Sun, she had also rescued two men from captivity and interrogation by Black Sun.  At the request of Asshur Hellesponte, of course.  

While Johnathan Claw remained aboard the Second-Hand, the other captive, Jono Kajja, had taken off from Hellesponte’s Star Destroyer in his own ship and was following them to Nar Shaddaa.  

Nar Shaddaa.  

The Smuggler’s Moon might not have been the ideal vacation spot, but it was home for Aray.  She had been gone for nearly a month now and she missed her family terribly.  Her brother, Davved – how she hoped that he hadn’t forgotten her again, as he was so prone to do.  And even her father, who she butted heads with more often now.

Sighing inwardly, Aray pulled herself out of the pilot’s chair and left Danner alone in the cockpit.  

Sleep.  And Nar Shaddaa would be that much closer.



“Frak it all!”

“Just take your time, Danner…”

The glare he turned on her was full of blaster bolts.  “Look, tell him that…I’m not the one who keeps dropping the screws.”

Mack, a gray-furred Ryn, bristled his mustache defensively and sat back on his haunches.  “If you think that you can do it better, then why don’t I just go?” he sniffed indignantly.

Aray pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, attempting to shut out the brewing argument.  This sort of thing had been going on for nearly two hours now and whatever was left of Danner’s patience was running thin.  It wouldn’t be long before he would snap and Aray would need to play mediator again.

Their first time coming out of lightspeed to make a course change, they had lost power in a few systems, including the hyperdrive.  It was a pain and an inconvenient delay, but the Second-Hand was well-stocked with replacement parts and Danner had immediately gone to work on fixing it all. While Kajja’s personal ship hovered in empty space, waiting, Aray’s only problem now was keeping everyone else aboard from staging a coop.

“Just hand me the wrench, Mack!” Danner demanded, jabbing a finger at the tool box just out of his reach.

Sniffing, Mack crossed his arms, one over the other, and stuck up his fluted nose.  “Not until you apologize for that tone.  I’m not your servant – I’m a part of this crew just as you are, Mr. Danner, and…”

Danner started to get to his feet.  “Alright, that’s it.  You want an apology?” He rolled up his sleeves and spit an obscenity under his breath.  “I’ll show you…”

“Enough!” Aray snapped.  

Everyone froze.

She didn’t need to say anything else.  Mack, immediately subdued, reached into the tool box and handed the wrench to Danner with a grudging snort.  Danner recognized Aray’s this-is-the-last-straw voice and settled for giving the Ryn a glare that would have melted Hoth.

Satisfied that they would be able to complete what was left to be done without further incident, Aray left the engine room and started for the cockpit.

Coming around the corner she came face to face with Johnathan Claw, who was dominating the corridor and blocking all access to the hatch behind him. Even after spending such a long time on her ship with him, Aray couldn’t help but recoil in surprise. The reaction was very brief and she could only hope he hadn’t noticed her hesitation.

John looked her dead in the eye, you could tell he was tense, his veins were showing on his arms, and…was that sweat on his brow? “You tell me honest, Captain, are we in a heap of trouble here?”

Smiling tentatively, she crossed her arms and met his stare. “Why Mr. Claw, you’re not worried are you?”

Johnathan’s eyes flashed, but she saw the tension in his arms relaxing at her light tone. “We’ve been floating in the middle of empty space for almost two hours, Captain,” he informed her darkly. “Anythin’ minor’d be fixed by now, just wanted to know if we’d have to suit up?” John swallowed hard after the last words.

Aray knew John had undergone torture on Coruscant, she had watched as he faced down the head of the second biggest crime syndicate with just a smirk. But it seemed the thought of getting into an evac suit terrified him. So he is human after all, Aray thought.

Her look softened and she said “Twenty minutes,” uncrossing her arms and brushing past him. “I’d suggest you go strap yourself in for the jump, Mr. Claw.”

Aray was long past before John visibly relaxed.


Her chrono gave a muted beep that awakened her from a fitful sleep in one of the bunks. Across the room, both Kutac and Danner were sleeping soundly while Mack spent the night “away from the smelly human beings.”

Johnathan Claw was on watch in the cockpit. And it was time for her to relieve him.

She stopped in the kitchenette on the way and snatched a mug of caf for herself. Mack was meticulously scouring the floor of the kitchenette, but she managed to get out of his way without receiving a lecture.

The cockpit was shrouded in darkness when Aray arrived, illuminated only by the blinking lights on the now-working control panels. Johnathan Claw didn’t even look up when she came in, but she was certain that he had sensed her approach. Casually, she planted herself in the pilot’s chair and took a long, rapturous sip of her hot beverage.

After a very long pause in which neither one spoke a word, Aray finally chuckled and took another sip. “This,” she began, indicating the darkened cockpit,
”seems strangely familiar.”

John actually snorted, his lip twitching into the shadow of a smile. “Just a little” he added.

Aray rested her cup on her knee, tracing her fingertip around the rim and eyeing her companion thoughtfully.

It had never been discussed in any real detail. When Aray and her motley crew had been dismissed from the Sybarite, it had been a given that the Second-Hand would be returning to Nar Shaddaa. When Jerva Kutac and Johnathan had decided to tag along that far, she had merely shrugged her shoulders and hoped that their working relationship would soon draw to a close. For people who were most likely on Black Sun’s list of Least Favorite Beings, the Smuggler’s Moon was the obvious destination and she had given no argument.  Mack, on the other hand, had protested greatly, but she had pulled rank and given him permission to color-code her sock drawer to alleviate the pain.

And even though, now, Aray was almost going to miss the two extra crew members she had acquired (though she would never tell them that), she had never even considered asking what they planned to do with themselves after the fact. Kutac, she knew, would want his pay and would be perfectly happy to go on his way. She had hardly spoken to Kajja since they had left Hellesponte’s throne room, so his plans were unknown.

And Johnathan Claw was an even greater mystery.

One that Aray Faast suddenly wanted to solve.

“Well, Mr. Claw,” she began again, taking a long draft from her mug and running her tongue over her upper lip. “What are you planning to do once we get to Nar Shaddaa? That is, if it isn’t some kind of deep, dark, personal secret,” she added as an afterthought.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

“Clear to dock in Bay 24.” The less-than-friendly voice of Control boomed into the cockpit, Vekis wincing as he heard the voice through the speakers. Ryann quickly pressed down a few buttons in succession, beginning the auto-landing sequence, Ryann then relaxing into his seat.
   
“Jeez, he could have at least turned down the volume on his voice.” Vekis Llandon spoke with a voice low, almost a whisper, awaken from his slumber. Ryann looked over to his new-found copilot and nodded in agreement, the Twi’lek could of at least lowered the volume on his voice a octave. Vekis looked over at the sensor readings, then down to the coolant pressure, and then finally over to the communication hub.
   
“We’re all set.” Vekis reported, calmed now after the whole Muunilinst situation got to his head, his voice and his mind straight and hard like rock. Ryann nodded at him as he stood up. He couldn’t stand his eyes, they were red and they glowed like that. He knew Vekis wasn’t exactly human.
   
It bothered him.
   
“Vek, make sure the ship’s hot. I’ll be right back, need to go see this contact.”
   
“Uh uh, no way. Not without me you’re not. Like it or not, Ryann, you ain’t flying solo no more. I’ll go with you.” Vekis said, standing up and buttoning up his jacket. Ryann sighed, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb before he looked up and nodded in agreement.
   
“Tell Torin and Lyra we’re both going then.”

   
   
“I don’t think he’s coming, man.” Vekis whispered to Ryann as he rubbed his forehead with his fingers, his blue eyelids closed as he breathed gently. Ryann could only nod at him as he had his head down, trying to look unimportant. The last thing he needed at the moment was for a bounty hunter to come walking by and decide to pick up on the price on his head.
   
The diner he was in was certainly harbouring bounty hunters and criminals and almost all sorts of lowlife that Ryann had to associate himself with in the last nine years of his life. Vekis surely had seen worse than he had, but Ryann knew from memory most of the most harrowing situations in his smuggler trade had come from Nar Shaddaa or contracts from Black Sun.
   
“I’m thinking that too. We should high tail it out of here.” Ryann said, looking around, before he stood up. His arms were outstretched, his eyes closed, but Vekis was standing up too in almost the same exact position, his eyes open however. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he saw the contact, a older looking man, walk into the diner and smile at the two. Vekis tapped Ryann’s shoulder, with Ryann snapping his eyes open with quickness.
   
“That him?”
   
“Yup, that’s him.” He said, sitting back down. Vekis nodded and sat down as well, looking right at the man with his red eyes gleaming outwards. The older man did not even flinch at the stare as he moved to sit in front of Ryann and Vekis, making himself comfortable before he coughed.
   
“Good to see you Ryann.”
   
“And you as well, Wind Knell.”
   
“Wind Knell?”
   
“Codename.” Wind Knell said to Vekis, quickly, before he looked back at Ryann.
   
“Saw the Holonews. Apparently you’re a wanted man. Doesn’t pay well for me if I continue to associate myself with you.”
   
“But you saw it prudent to visit me down here, now did you? Which means our continuing, profitable friendship is still something of value to you, as it is to me.” Ryann said, looking right into Wind Knell’s eyes with no sign of emotion, nothing. He lost that when his parents died.
   
“Hmm, indeed I do. I managed to secure the first item of our little meeting.” He said, pulling out a bag that, when he moved it about it produced small little metal clanks from it, came from his jacket pocket, causing Ryann to look at his outfit. It was a simply jacket and undershirt, with a pair of slacked pants and some normal looking shoes. It fitted Wind Knell’s job, that to look normal and not attract attention.
   
“What’s that?”
   
“Don’t worry, Vekis.” Ryann said, knowing what exactly it was.
   
Sweet Spice.
   
“But the second request was a bit harder to obtain since my employer is a tough person to contact when you want him. However, I did manage you to secure a job for the time being, until I can secure your employer with someone else here in Black Sun.” Wind Knell said, sliding over a datapad with all of the information on the job.
   
“What’s the catch?”
   
“Just got to meet with our leader's representive, I would think. Face to holo-face. There’s a certain time signature at the bottom, and an address. You will call that address, and he will give you information.”
   
“The head of Black Sun actually signed out information on this job?”
   
“Ryann, you have to understand that this mission is high-profile, and it’s highly dangerous. My Vigo actually was the one who thought to hire outside of our normal realms because…”
   
“This isn’t no normal Spice Run or slave transport, is it?” Vekis asked.
   
“The time signature to talk to him is on the datapad. It is soon. I suggest you go back to your ship and call that little address.” Wind Knell said, standing up and quickly taking his leave of that place, hurrying outside and away from Ryann and Vekis. The smuggling duo looked at each other then the datapad.
   
“We better get back to the ship.”

   
   
“So, this guy from Black Sun wants you to take a mission directly from the Vigo of Black Sun?” Lyra asked, her red hair sprangling downwards from her hair, straight and pretty, but she did not care as she looked over at Ryann. Her Chiss comrade Vekis answered first, before Ryann could open his mouth.
   
“Tarsk Mal’fey. He controls Courscant’s crime. I heard he’s trying to roust out the Hutts here, but I doubt it.”
   
“Wait, he controls crime? We’re working for a crime lord?” Torin asked, looking at Vekis and Lyra before he looked at Ryann. The aged mercenary simply nodded as he looked right back at Vekis.
   
“What’s the catch about this crimelord?”
   
“He has a front. You’ve seen the latest Holonews? He’s Tarsk Mal’fey, CEO of Mal’fey Shipping and Co. Supposedly one of the most Republic-friendly companies out there. I heard from a friend from a friend that he’s helping out Imps with money and slaves, but that’s just rumors.”
   
“Either way I think you should take the job. Money’s money, man.” Torin said after Vekis gave his little speech, Lyra nodding in consent as she looked over at her now leading smuggler. Ryann did not look at anyone, rather he looked at the little datapad that had the calling information, and the exact time to which he should talk to the Vigo.
   
“I need to call this chap. I'll use the ship's holocommunicator.” Ryann said, before he exited the ship's longue and took a beeline straight for the communicator's hold.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

The stylus probe was shoved into the dataport and began to download the latest recognized-personnel files of the suspects that were involved in the hangar robbery. Then he copied all the data stored onto a datapad and wiped the memory from the probe.

"Sorry I'm late," said a woman's voice behind him, a level, soothing voice with an undertone of warmth that sounded as if she were permanently smiling. "But you have a transmission coming in from Nar Shaddaa. It took time for me to decrypt it."

Tarsk Mal'fey glanced over his shoulder and gave Yara Hawke a slight nod that felt like it came a little too easily for him. "Thank you, Yara. I assume this is our bounty hunter our contacts found?"

"He's actually a mercenary named Ryann Ravensword, and I am sure he will take a bounty hunting job." She smiled back.

The Bothan said nothing as he tapped on the holoprojector on his desk and permitted the blue image to appear before him.

"Tarsk Mal'fey I presume?" the stranger's voice came over the comm. "I received notice about a job you want done by one of your contacts. Name the job and consider it done."

"This is Mal'fey and the job is bounty hunting. I have a few bounties for you to acquire for me." Tarsk grabbed the datapad and hooked it to the projector, activating it. It displayed a chart with several faces where Ryann could see it. "From what you can see here, these people are responsible for the illegal acquisition of my spice shipments from my own hangar bay and are probably planning to sell it to an underworld syndicate to the highest bidder."

"Looks like a simple job," the image replied.

"Don't underestimate them, Mr. Ravensword. I want all of them brought to me… alive," Mal'fey hissed. "My contact informed me you have a crew with you to help catch them?"

"I do. And they want a share of the bounty as well."

Silence. Tarsk listened, head cocked. "As you wish. I will give you fifty-thousand credits to share among your crew to acquire all of them."

Pause. "And new upgrades. Top military-spec parts for my ship. I think that fits the bill."

Tarsk's face was a study in shock, but– like the professional criminal that he was– he said nothing.

"You're getting the best deal from me, Tarsk. I suggest you take it."

The Bothan managed a smile. "If you insist then. My contact on Nar Shaddaa will provide you with the parts and supplies you need." His face then hardened. "Payment will be sent in increments with each capture. If you get half of my bounties, I give you half. All of them… you will get the entire payment."

"Deal." Ryann gave a slight nod.

Tarsk gave him a cautious glance. "You will not make any contact with me until the bounties are captured. You are free to use any means necessary, but I repeat again– I want them <i>alive</i>."

"Done," Ryann said, and obviously meant it.

"Good. I'm sending all the information I have from the datapad here. Then I will sever this connection."

After a few minutes, the upload was complete and the link went dead.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

Here it is, 4am, and she feels chatty again, what, does the night air bring out the curious 4 year old deep within her.  I groaned and rubbed my eyes to focus them a little better.  “Haven’t given much thought teh that” I replied honestly.

“Well surely you had some thought of where you’d end up” She said calmly, as she put down her caf.  The look on her face though…was one of quiet disbelief.  And in my head I finished her thought “How can you not know where you’re going”.

“Not really” I shrugged.  I really didn’t care where I ended up honestly, but maybe if I give her a tidbit, she’ll ease up on the chatter.  “Probably look for work while keeping my head low, not the easiest thing, but nothing I haven’t done before.”

“Ooh” she winced “…sounds rough.  So you know where your staying then?” she asked, and she appeared to be actually concerned.  It was an odd sensation, someone actually caring what happened to me.  Usually people were all too happy to get rid of me.  Aray was different it seemed.  She had a good heart, and *I looked her up and down*, and a few other good qualities as well.  The question she asked didn’t sit well though; I knew the answer would draw more questions, so some redirection was in order.  “No, got a few exs might let me stay the night, after that who knows.  What about you, what are you going to do?” I replied casually, when what I really wanted was for her talk fer a spell, so I didn’t have to.

She reclined back in the pilot’s chair.  “Well I’m definitely going to check in with my dad, and inform him of how the job went, and then try and unload the Andris.  Business as usual, next destination, next job, course pissing off the number one crime leader in the galaxy might make things a bit harder.

“Yeah, Jerva says we probably got bounties on our heads.  I’d have to agree with him unfortunately.” I said trying to steer the direction of the conversation away from me.  

“Yeah, and that’s not going to make things any easier on us, believe me.” Aray said exasperated leaning her head in her hand.

“Oh, I believe it, I’ve lived it.  You’ll probably want to get a new security id for the ship, a new ship entirely to be really safe, but if that’s not an option, definitely the security codes.  A new paint job would be a good throw off.  Might want to dye your hair, and keep the Ryn out of sight, he’s a dead give away if they know about him…” I started

Aray grinned and suppressed a giggle, which paused my stream of thought mid sentence.  “What?” I asked indignantly.

Aray again suppressed a grin, and said “Nothing”.

“Fine don’t tell me” I said getting up and walking over to the caf machine.  Pouring a cup I glance over to the Captain, only to find her eyes staring back at me.  I casually look away and take a sip of the caf, wincing as the strong liquid assaults my taste buds.  At this point I want to leave the conversation altogether, but I am not giving her the satisfaction, plus I want to find out what she is so smug about.  So I plopped myself back in the chair, and she continues to stare at me.  I stare back at her, the space between us filling up with all the things we’re not saying to each other.  Finally I give, and say “If your not gonna tell me at least talk some more, maybe you’ll put me to sleep again like you did the other night.”  Ok that was a lie, but I was trying to get a rise.

Aray opened her mouth in mock outrage.  “Well I was going to question why someone who gives off the persona of not caring about anyone suddenly cares what happened to this ship and little ol me.  The suggestions you were making were welcome, and honestly kinda…sweet” she said the last word in a whisper as if she knew it would offend my ears to have it be used in the same context of my name.  And yeah, she was right.

Instantly getting uncomfortable, I attempted to change the topic.  “So what was wrong with the ship the other day?”

“Nice segway” she commented sipping her caf, after a minute she shrugged seeing that I wasn’t going to touch the other topic.  “Minor problem, part shorted out.  It happens.” She shrugged indicating no big deal.

“A lot?”  I asked

Aray laughed “No, you Nerf.  What’s with you anyway, you looked like a Mon Calamari in a desert the other day when you thought you had to suit up?” she asked getting up to refill her caf.

I looked away, that hadn’t been my best moment.  Well I’ve been honest with her so far, no reason to start lying now.  “I don’t like evac suits.  Just something about only a few layers of cloth between you and…nothin”  I involuntarily shuttered.  “…just doesn’t sit well with me is all.”  I watched her as she sat back down.  “Sorry if I was rude then.” I whispered.  Aray didn’t say anything for a long time, and then replied “Apology accepted”, a slight shocked tone in her voice.

Silence filled the room once again, and Aray took the initiative and putting down her caf said “Ok, you want to know the first rule of flying that should make you a lot more comfortable?”

“Sure” I said, couldn’t hurt right.

“Trust” she stated simply, as if everyone for 12 systems knew this fact but me.

“Trust?” I repeated skeptically, a look in my eye that wondered if there was more then just caf in her cup.

“Yeah Trust. You can have the best navicomputer in the galaxy, but you take a ship in the air and you don't Trust, she’ll give you the worst ride of your life.” Aray paused rubbing her hand over the ship.  “Trust keeps her in the air when she should fall down. Tells you she's hurting before it’s too late. Makes her home.

Home, now that’s a place I ain’t been for a long time.  What’s it’s been now…6-7 years.  Livin out of hotels, having nothing but what I could carry at a moment’s notice.  Always afraid of staying too long, and settling down, folk finding what I really am.  “Sounds nice.  You know I haven’t had a home for a long time” I said looking out of the viewport, imaging the life that was taken from me long ago.

“Do you want one?” Aray replied back.

Without thinking I answered “Yeah, I do”.  I don’t know what made her say it.  I couldn’t even tell you why I accepted, but at that moment…I could tell you that I wanted nothing more then to have a home.  And that was it, no deals, no haggling; just “do you want a home?”  That’s how I became part of the crew.

Aray smiled, and as she did a red light started blinking on the “We’re coming up on Nar Shadaa.” Aray said as she eased the throttle back, and the blur of hyperspace reverted to starlines, and then stars.  I lurched forward in my seat at the sudden deceleration.  Out of the cockpit window I saw the dull gray world, Ancient refueling spires and loading docks still extend into orbit.  Further below as we descend into atmo, vast vertical cities have filled the empty space in between, forming a city wide planet.  We are given clearance to land, and do so without incident.  Aray actually managed to put the ship down quite gracefully.  

“Nice landing” I commented

“Thank you Mr. Claw, I take pride in my landings” She quipped back.  As she was walking to the bunks to wake the others, she turned back to me and said “You know, this *gesturing to the cockpit* was nice, maybe we should do it again sometime.”

“You make the ship schedule Captain, but yeah this wasn’t that bad.”  It was the most she was getting from me, but she took in stride and smiled as she turned to wake the others.  I went to the gangplank to get on some land.  Yeah I know, I probably should have paid more attention to the Trust thing, but I wanted boots on Durasteel, then I’ll work on the trust thing.  I took a deep breath and nearly gagged.  The entire planet suffered from a syndrome of only bathing when it was convenient.  From the lower levels, rotting food billowed up; add to that the industrial smell of refueling fumes that wafted over to you every now and then.  Yep, the planet smelled like the entire population, all 80 or so billion of them had all farted at the same time, and the atmosphere kept the smell hovering near the surface.  It use to be a luxury world, only accessible to the super rich, but millennia of neglect has turned it into a haven for Ship-jackers, slavers, spice dealers, pirates, hunters and other unsavory types to congregate in the vile cities.  My crowd to say the least doesn’t mean I’m proud of it.  Legality didn’t exist on Nar Shadaa, if you wanted something, you could get it, and all you needed was a way to pay.  This made it ideal for people running, as new ID’s for both you and your ship were easy to come by.  Of course everyone knew this, so the planet was also one of the largest gathering places for bounty hunters in the galaxy.  We needed to get in and out quick or there would be serious trouble, more then we were already in.  I leaned on a landing strut, and thought about my first visit to Nar just after I escaped from BlueNek.  Like most hunters and trackers, I got my start on Nar, getting crap jobs, and working my way up the underground rep ladder.  I still have the best record in tracking, and a pretty decent record in bounties.  I hope Aray offers me a job with this home, cause I doubt I could go back to my old one.  I’d show up to get an assignment, and walk into a room full of enemies instead of enthusiastic competitors.  The latter was bad enough as it was.

Destruction of the Black Sun's Slave Ring Master

The coldness.
   
It was normal here, in the Lower City, to hear the soft little patterings of the average little lives the refugees and the suffering managed to carve out in the neighborhood. It was not the normal flutterings of life, however, that bothered Defender Vornis Falu as he walked through the side-street next to a shady club, where hired alien muscle stood to guard its entrance. A large, dirty, smelling robe covered up Vornis as water, or so he hoped, splashed down on his hooded head. His hands were in his pockets, touching his lightsabers.
   
What bothered Vornis was the Force doppelganger that was on the edge of his detection. He had felt his presence since the raid on Mankar’s smaller slave ring operation, and he needed to complete his own mission. But the presence he felt, right now, was bothering him to an extreme. To not see his potential enemy gnawed on him like nails upon a chalkboard, it thoroughly annoyed him so.
   
But it didn’t matter, he was approaching the cantina in question that he had to enter, and he cleared his mind. His hands were now at his side, letting the recycled air smack it with a burst of wind that too was cold. He hated this planet, this city-wide beast full of crime and corruption, his mind pleading with him to cut a clean-scythe of justice through the heavy crop of everything that w—
   
He needed to stop thinking like that. He needed to concentrate on what he needed to do, and to keep a weathered eye on his doppelganger that continued to follow him. Even just walking about, he felt the Force presence, and it was powerful. But, for the moment, he still could not tell if it was an evil source, or a good one, and he could only guess that he would find out in the heat of the moment.
   
He silently thought to himself that it hopefully won’t come to that.
   
He was now outside the cantina in question, music thumping in the background and laughter heard from within. The word ‘lowlifes’ struck his mind as he stood in front of the cantina and stared, darkly, his eyes cold and malevolent to say the least, in the eyes of the two hired muscle that stood outside. The first one, a Mon Calamari, seemed not to even acknowledge the Jensaarai, but the second one did.
   
The human seemed to be at least unnerved by his eyes.
   
“No one gets in without authorization.” The Mon Calamari said, as Vornis opened his mouth to speak to the human. He snapped his head in the Mon Cal’s direction, his eyes alert, open, dark. The squid-like alien moved his jaw into what Vornis figured was a smile, but he couldn’t really tell. Nor, really, did he care.
   
“You’re going to let me in.” He said, staring right at him.
   
“Heh, and the Emperor’s love child is my lover.” The Mon Calamari replied right back.
   
Vornis did not have time to persuade with words. He looked around, then brandished his normal lightsaber. The red blade flashed outwards, coming up at the Mon Calamari’s neck. The hilt was curved towards Vornis, an awkward grip for normal form users but a most proficient hilt design for users of Djem So and Makashi. The human broke and ran, while the Mon Calamari stood tall, almost as if he was undeterred.
   
“I’m just paid to hold the door. I don’t know what goes on in there, but whatever it is requires authorization. And you don’t have it.”
   
“My authorization is to save a woman and destroy a slave-trading syndicate. Is that enough authorization?” Vornis hissed back, his face now mere inches from the Mon Cal’s head, his eyes looking straight forward. Normally, he would have been cordial to the guard, but when there was a life at stake he had no time to bother with him. His hands were clenched, his left hand cupping around the hilt of his lightsaber, an unseen gesture.
   
The Mon Cal merely grumbled.
   
“Let me in, and stop this.” He hit a tender spot for all Mon Calamari, opening this male’s wound when the Empire began to slave-trade ‘lesser’ races out from their homeworld. He could see his eyes slit into narrow passages, before closing and closing tight, as if greatly debating the situation within his head.
   
“Kark, we got another buyer coming in.” The guard said into the wall comlink, a smile dripping over Vornis’ face. The Mon Cal said nothing at first, standing at attention, before he turned his head back down to Vornis. With his husky voice, he spoke back to him in a gruff, some sort of authoritarian tone in his voice that made Vornis smile inwardly.
   
“Don’t stand there! Get the frak in before I change my mind.”


   
The chamber was filled with the smell of different species and their natural smell, not to mention the slave’s themselves. The perfume scent was overpowering, the mix and smell of the many women and females all around made Vornis sick, not with the smell but with the anger that began to rise in his heart as he saw the females, some willing but most were depressed and obviously not here.
   
Vornis walked through the arena-like slave ring, with the slaves bunched up in cages not designed for comfort. From Vornis’ position, he could see most of the slaves were in tears and fidgeting as the buyers sneered at them and laughed as they could see the harm emotionally this was causing the slaves. Vornis felt the emotion all around him, and it was betraying his rigid form as he felt the sadness wash over him, along with the pertaining evil still swirling about.
   
Of course, that’s when he saw her.
   
The blonde human female was bound and cuffed, tagged with a sensor that blinked within the skin in her arm. Her hair was ruffled, all about and somewhat darken than what Vornis remembered, her eyes were blank and staring straight forward, not like Vornis remembered at all. He approached closer, and saw that a strange metal device was attached to her neck, pulsating with energy and its machinery humming.
   
Defender Amira Suutrar was being kept under suppression by a high class neural disruptor, and he began to feel a large swell of anger burrowing within himself that made his fist clench so tightly his palms were beginning to become white. He opened his palms and looked up towards the top of the slave ring, where the Slavemaster would sit himself and take the orders. Vornis decided that the time for stealth was over, and he stood tall as he called out a loud challenge.
   
“Mankar Dfvor!” He yelled; a loud voice carried over the crowd with the aid of the Force pushing his voice forward into the room, a large curve to it as it reached the Slavemaster’s ears. He turned, slowly, towards the voice and with his cracked mouth he smiled. The Falleen stared right at him with his eyes, one a dark green and the other atrophied with a scar running down from it. His nose was tilted far left, as if broken repeatedly over time, and his teeth were rotten and yellow with such distaste that made Vornis wince inwardly as he viewed the spectacle that was Mankar Dfvor.
   
“Well…well…look what we have here.” He said in a low, proper tone that almost took Vornis by surprise as he stared upwards. He used the Force to subtly pushing into Mankar’s mind, to see what Mankar’s next move would be.
   
What chilled Vornis’ spine was that he could see nothing.
   
“I was wondering when you would show, Mister Falu.” He said, his voice low, everyone in the room not making one sound as the two stood apart from each other; Vornis staring straight with anger and hate filling up while Mankar keeping a cool, almost non-caring look as he looked right at Vornis.
   
“Your little friend there told me everything.” He said, walking down the steps and into a full view of Vornis. He wore a ribbed jacket, red as the canyons on Rattatak, with a same color undershirt that was tucked under black leather pants. In a holster was a blaster pistol, and on his other hip was a hilt with a vibroblade hilt protruding outwards. The Falleen’s hair was in a ponytail, a small one.
   
“I know why you are here, Vornis. It was easy to get all the information out of here. Where the Jensaarai are, who is in the cult, and other sorts of information that will prove useful when I move my base location. However, now since you are here, I have no more use for her.” He said, moving his head towards the Jensaarai Defender caged like an animal. Mankar took out a small object, silver and opaque, with two buttons on its casing. He pressed hard down on the left button, and Vornis immediately gasped in horror.
   
Amira screamed as she buckled, twitching in such a manner that was inhuman, like she was a rag-doll, her eyes closed tight as she fidgeted. Tears streamed down her face as her mouth leaked out spit and drool. Vornis stood there with his mouth open, afraid to move. Mankar, with a smile, pressed down his thumb on the right button, and she stopped, breathing heavily.
   
Some of the slave traders, seeing this, slowly began to leave, but the others shrugged and continued to purchase slaves as if nothing had happen.  Vornis clenched his fists as he stared forward at Mankar’s form, still standing tall, enjoying watching the pain that was reeling off Amira and the pain that was burrowing deep in Vornis’ heart.
   
“Tell me everything I want to know, or I kill her.” He said, loud, the crowd gathering up voices again as they continued their duel. Vornis did his action in a heartbeat, throwing out his hand to gain a better command on the Force, concentrating. The little device that Mankar used to torture Amira ripped out of his hand and smacked into Vornis’ palm, a fist clenching around it.
   
“Bad move Jensaarai.” He said, flickering his finger. The sound of a blaster bolt piercing the room took Vornis by surprise, twisting his body to avoid the incoming bolt. But, as sick as it did, the realization of it hit him that the bolt was not meant for him. He heard a scream, a painful one, before it was dead quiet. Not a sound was in the air as Vornis turned his head to his friend, his only friend.
   
She was dead.
   
Mankar laughed at him, as if he had become a target, a ghost. Vornis felt hate rise from his stomach, the boiling point of the Dark Side, rushing up inside of him. Mankar’s laughs continued to drown onwards, but then he looked at him with his eyes dark as the night. With the little device in his hand, he threw it as far as he could, in Mankar’s direction. In the split second that followed he used the Force to propel it to a speed that no one thought possible in the room. Mankar’s face was between a laugh and a confused scowl before the device ripping through his eye and out the back of his head. He fell backwards, before his guards drew their blasters.
   
Vornis, in one motion, used the Force to bring his lightsabers to his hands. His thumb activated the blades that shot out, falling into a Soresu stance. He heard the crack of another lightsaber activate, and he smiled. Not only would he face these guards, but he would finally see who this doppelganger was.
   
And avenge Amira.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

Trailing the assassin was more difficult than Kite would have liked, no doubt made even more so by the fact that the assassin knew he was being tailed. Kite could sense him reaching out with the force as he moved, trying to pin-point his location. The old Jedi was a bit craftier than that, however; he could hide himself quite well when he needed to, especially on a planet like this. Nar Shadda was a planet that had been touched by war and death several times in it's history. It was a place that echoed with all these deaths, drowning out the presence of the force. It had healed, somewhat, but it was enough for the moment.

The assassin stopped suddenly, and Kite moved into the shadows in the center of the alley. He hugged the wall, moving slowly. The steady thump of what could only be very loud music must have meant that they were at their goals. He would need to concentrate to make sure this went as planned. Sitting, his back still against the wall, Kite began to meditate. The force entered his body, drowning out the noise and focusing on what it was he wanted to hear.

“No one gets in without authorization.”

Although it was said in basic, the voice was familiar. He had heard that accent several times before. It was a Mon Calamari. But a Mon Calamari guarding a door to a Slave Ring? It was unheard of.

“You’re going to let me in.”

The voice was cold, almost menacing. This must be the assassin.

“Heh, and the Emperor’s love child is my lover.”

The Mon Calamari again. Not exactly witty, but it was unwise to antagonize someone with the ideals this man seemed to hold. Kite could feel the assassin's emotions as he heard the familiar sound of a lightsaber humming to life.

“My authorization is to save a woman and destroy a slave-trading syndicate. Is that enough authorization?”

The assassin. Then his mission was a noble one? Perhaps, and yet perhaps not; he could still be working with the Sith, or what remained of them.

“I’m just paid to hold the door. I don’t know what goes on in there, but whatever it is requires authorization. And you don’t have it.”

The Mon Calamari. Brave of him, but very foolish.

“Let me in, and stop this.”

The assassin. If this was a Sith, he was soft indeed.

“Kark, we got another buyer coming in.”

The Mon Calamari. So, the assassin managed to persuade him after all.

“Don’t stand there! Get the frak in before I change my mind.”

Kite heard the door open and close. He stood, not minding the wet feeling of his cloak. Time was short. He quickly made his way down the alley, and reached the Mon Calamari and the door he was guarding. Kite lowered his hood, and looked the Mon Calamari directly in the eye.

"Old Man, what do you-"

A wave of Kite's hand cut him off.

"You have seen my authorization. You will let me in."

The Mon Calamari's eyes glazed over for a moment, then he turned to the comlink.

"Kark, we have another one. I guess business is good today."

Kite nodded his thanks, then walked inside. He untied the sash holding his cloak together, revealing his lightsabers. Now was the time.





“- Know, or I kill her.”

Came the voice as Kite entered the Slave Ring. The assassin was standing in the center, staring down the Leader of the operation. Kite recognized him from the files he had been given; Mankar Dfvor, a Falleen. A nasty piece of work to be sure. So, this was the Assassin's target. Kite watched as the Assassin ripped a control from the Falleen's hand.

“Bad move Jensaarai.” Mankar said, flickering his finger. The sound of a blaster bolt piercing the room took the Jensaarai by surprise, although his reflexes would have saved him…If the blaster bolt had been meant for him. It was meant for the slave that was being tortured a moment before.

She most probably had been a friend, perhaps a lover of the Jensaarai. In any case, the aura of rage and darkness that was filling the room was very nearly over powering. The Jensaarai hurled the device in his hand threw in Mankar’s direction. In the split second that followed he used the Force to propel it to a speed that no one thought possible in the room. Mankar’s face was between a laugh and a confused scowl before the device ripping through his eye and out the back of his head. He fell backwards, before his guards drew their blasters.

The Jensaarai, in one motion, used the Force to bring his lightsabers to his hands. His thumb activated the blades that shot out, falling into a Soresu stance.

Kite's lightsabers immediately flew to his hands with the help of the Force, a blue glue filling the area around the door as they ignited simultaneously. Kite stepped out of the former shadows, several people backing away as guards moved to block the doorway.

Kite moved into the center of the arena, entering his Shien stance as he did so.  He would not harm the Jensaarai, of course, now that he knew whom he was. However, the powerful emotions the man was feeling made Kite wary as to what he might do. But there was no time for them to squabble amongst themselves. There was a much bigger problem in the form of blaster rifles and Vibroblades that were being leveled in their direction.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

ARAY FAAST

The Dancing Star cantina was a two-level establishment in the somewhat wealthier part of Nar Shaddaa, up in the open air of the planet where few dared to tread.  As a result, business had always catered towards half-way legitimate characters that weren’t afraid of being out in the open.  Basically, people who didn’t have anything they really needed to hide.  

You couldn’t go anywhere on Nar Shaddaa and find perfectly respectable company, but The Dancing Star was one of the only places where you could come close.  

The lower level, where customers would walk in from the street outside, was expansive and dimly lit in emerald and violet hues.  The Star’s hostess, a handsome female Twi’lek named Dar’ha Mii, took pride in the variety of the décor.  She could usually be found behind the circular bar in the center of the cantina, performing casual flourishes and serving her famous concoctions to the hardier drinkers.  Her twin daughters weaved in and out of the scattered tables and served up food and entertainment, collecting generous tips.

There was a band in one corner, playing continuous music that kept the atmosphere pleasant despite the faded lighting and heavy smoke layer hanging just above everyone’s heads.  A few long tables at one end of the room were constantly crowded with sabaac players.  Every month the Star held tournaments for the more serious players.

And, in the back of the establishment, booths were arranged strategically to give occupants the ideal amount of privacy.  Perfect for a place to complete business transactions.

It was in one of these booths that Aray Faast found her father.

“Hello, dad,” she murmured, sliding confidently into the seat across from him.  She glanced at the pile of datasheets and files he had been perusing.  “Am I interrupting anything?”

Hargov Faast chuckled around the thick cigarra in the corner of his mouth and glanced up at this daughter.  “Yes, but since when has that stopped you?”

“Never,” she smirked back, grabbing his shot glass full of some kind of amber liquid and tasting it.

Her father looked down at the chrono wrapped around his wrist.  “As a matter of fact, Aray, I’m expecting a guest in the next few minutes.  As much as I would love to catch up…”

Aray frowned.  “It’s been a month, dad.”

“And you have no idea how glad I am to see that you are safe and sound…” his eyes narrowed as he looked up briefly from the files on the table.  Obviously, he had heard rumors about the Black Sun incident and was giving her fair warning that she would be getting an earful about that later.  “But it’s business before pleasure, as always.”

Sighing, Aray scooted out of her seat and stood, fingering her blaster carbine absentmindedly.  “I have some people waiting, dad.  One of them needs to be paid, and,” she gave him a lopsided smile, “the other I want you to meet.”

The skin around Hargov’s eyes tightened, but he only smiled.  “I’ll hurry, I promise.”

“Where’s Davved?”

This time, her father’s expression darkened considerably.  He returned his eyes to the files in his hand and refused to look up again.  

“In his room.”  

* * * *

Aray found Jerva and Johnathan where she had left them, being charmed by Dar’ha Mii at the bar.  Jerva was contentedly drinking a hard ale of some kind, tapping on the bar with his fingers and seeming to be perfectly at home in the moment.  Johnathan Claw, on the other hand, was perched on the bar stool, pensively glaring around the room and barely touching the drink in his left hand.  His gaze snapped up as soon as she approached, but he didn’t say anything.

“How’s Dar’ha treating you?” Aray inquired, casually leaning against the bar and winking at the middle-aged Twi’lek.  When no one bothered to reply, she glanced around.  “Will you two be alright here for a while?  My father’s just finishing up some business and then we’ll get our business taken care of.”

Jerva’s answer was to order another round.  

Johnathan shrugged.  “I’m not entirely sure what I’m still doing here, Captain.”

She grinned and stepped away from the bar.  “I’m sure my dad’ll have a place for you in our organization, should you still be interested.  In fact, I’m thinking about personally requesting to have you as a partner in my next assignment.  You’ll need someone to train you in on how things work around here.”

“I’ve been around.  Nar Shaddaa isn’t exactly new to me.”

“You haven’t worked for the Faast’s yet.  We’re not exactly your run-of-the-mill smugglers, Mr. Claw.”  Her smile grew mischievous.  “Anyway, my father won’t trust you.  The only way you’ll get the job is if he knows I’ll be around to keep an eye on you.”

With a wink, Aray picked up Johnathan’s tumbler, took a sip, and headed for the turbolifts.

* * * *

The upper level of The Dancing Star was reserved for the Faasts’ most important customers.  Not only did it provide living quarters for the Faasts and their staff, but there were several rooms ready for the occasional guest.  Hargov spent most of his time in his flagship, an Action VI transport called Luck of the Draw.  Aray had chosen to base herself out of the Star itself, when she wasn’t on a mission of some kind.  There was some permanence in having a real home to return to.  A fixed point that wouldn’t change.  

This was where she and her brother had grown up.  It was here that she had lost her mother and it was here that she had been able to overcome the loss by taking care of her father and brother in their grief.  Until she had been sent away to be trained as a smuggler.  Now she was back, and yet it seemed that she and her brother were continuing to become strangers to each other.

Standing in front of the shiny door that lead into her brother’s quarters, Aray sucked in a deep breath and poised her hand to knock.  

The door shot open suddenly, throwing her off balance.  She blinked.

“Davved…”

Her brother stood towering over her, feet planted apart, broad shoulders filling the doorway.  He cocked his head to the side, his sharp blue eyes examining her for a few seconds.  Then a lopsided grin split apart his face.

“Aray!  You’re home, finally!”  In one swift move, he buried her in a fierce hug that lifted her feet off of the ground.  When he had set her down and looked her over once again, he grabbed her hand and dragged her into his room.  “I’ve got something to show you.  Come here.”

Laughing, she followed him through his living area and to the back of the room.  No matter how long she was away, Davved never seemed to care.  

“What have you been up to, Davved?” Aray demanded, skidding to a halt when her brother released his iron grip on her hand and started to enter a security code into the door that led to his private workshop.  

“Working,” he told her simply.  “Dad got me some new parts and I’ve been using them.”

Aray arched and eyebrow.  “Ah, I see.”

The door opened into a compact little workroom that Hargov Faast had designed specifically with his son in mind.  The tables were littered with half-finished projects, some of which dated back to when Davved was still a little boy.  Aray was tugged through a graveyard of abandoned droids, kitchen appliances, and engines that didn’t work.  Then, he brother released her again and stood back to smile proudly.

“Oh, Davved…”  It was a protocol droid, minus certain casings and coverings, but entirely completed otherwise.  Aray admired it with wide eyes.  “It’s…it’s wonderful.”

Davved was beaming from ear to ear, rocking on his heels excitedly.  “All new parts that dad got for me, Aray.  He works perfect, too.  Do you want to see?”

Smiling, Aray nodded.  Her brother proceeded to turn the droid on and explain exactly how everything worked.  After a while, she forgot to listen to every detail and concentrated instead on the sparkle of interest in her brother’s eyes.  Few things seemed to hold his interest for long and, in the past, he had been bored and dull-eyed each time she came for a visit.  The difference now was astonishing, to say the least.  

And it was all, according to Davved, because of her father.

Davved finished his rambling speech about the finer workings of protocol droids and grinned up at her, eyes hiding a secret.  She grew immediately suspicious.

“What’s going on, Davved?”

He glanced back at his droid and tilted his head to the side, turning suddenly shy.  “I made him for you.”

Aray gaped.  “For me?”

“Yeah, dad said you would like it,” Davved murmured, chewing his lower lip nervously.

She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him tight.  “I love it, Davved.  Thank you.”  She paused, considering.  “Tell you what.  Why don’t you take care of him for me, alright?  I’ll come by and pick him up eventually, but I’m sure you have a lot of work you’d like to do on him, right?”

Her brother nodded eagerly.  “Oh yeah, I’ve got a lot of improvements I can make.  But you really like him?”

“I do.”

Aray left him to his tinkering.

* * * *

Hargov Faast stifled his cigarra in a nearby ash tray.  “So, this is Jerva Kutac…the one with connections to Black Sun?”

Aray shrugged.  “Former connections.  I have a feeling he’ll have trouble getting a job with them again.”

Her father grunted.  “Yes, well, we certainly appreciate your help with this…mission my daughter decided to take on.”  He glanced over at Aray pointedly.  “Risky as it may have been.”

“I didn’t do it to earn appreciation, friend,” Jerva informed him.  “I’m just here to collect on a deal.”  

Aray sighed.  “Just pay the man, dad.  He’s done his job.”

Hargov smiled and winked.  “Alright, I’ve arranged for you to be paid.  Speak to Dar’ha, behind the bar.  She’ll get you all the credits you were promised.”  As the smuggler exited the room, Hargov’s gaze rested on Johnathan Claw.  “And you, I understand, are looking for work?”

“I offered him a job with me, dad,” Aray interrupted warningly.  “Whether or not he accepts my offer is entirely up to him.  I just wanted you to meet him and give me my next job, alright?”

There was a brief glaring contest between father and daughter, while Johnathan Claw looked on thoughtfully.  In the end, it was unclear just who had won, but Hargov did finally lean back in his chair and relax.  

“Alright, Mr. Claw, it seems that Aray is willing to take responsibility for training you in to our organization.  Why don’t I send you along with her?”

Johnathan arched an eyebrow.  “And where would that be, exactly?”

Hargov returned his attention to Aray.  “I’m going to have you take charge of selling the andris we received from Hellesponte.  I wouldn’t trust anyone else with that job.  The first order of business would be to get some buyers and I have a backdoor way for you to get an audience with some Hutts.”  He nodded towards his datapad.  “I’ve got a cargo of mechanical and electrical parts heading for Nal Hutta in the next few days and I want you to take it down in the Second-Hand.  You can make your andris sales-pitch then.”

Hargov studied Aray’s companion thoughtfully for a moment.  “We deal closely with Hutts, Mr. Claw.  It takes up nearly half of our business here.  I don’t know if you have much experience with the vermin, but this would be the perfect opportunity to gain some.”

“Thanks, dad,” Aray broke in, casting a sidelong glance at Johnathan.  “We’ll handle it.”

Johnathan at least had the presence of mind to say a gruff “thank you” as they walked out the door of Hargov’s office on the second floor.  

"Well, we've got a day or so before we need to take the trip down to Nal Hutta," Aray said, stepping into the turbolift with him.  "What do you say to getting a drink?  At someplace other than the Star," she amended.  She put on a mockingly thoughtful face.  "I'm thinking of something just a little seedier…where they serve the really good stuff."

* * * *

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

As the engines of the Dark Messenger powered down Dracon set about running diagnostic tests on the internal security systems, the screen in front of him started to display the results of the test and Dracon was pleased that all systems were running at optimal performance and would not like to be on the receiving end of the system.

As he rose from the pilots chair he grabbed his long black coat and made his way quickly towards the hanger bay, the familiar whine from the engines cooling down accompanied him and the sound somehow put him at ease. It was not the first time he had flown the Dark Messenger he had flown it many times for his former employer, it was usually used to collect debts or for “special jobs” hence thats how the ship had got its name, but this time it was different, this time Dracon owned the ship since he stole it after he had killed his employer.

Dracon quickly pushed the memories to the back of his mind as he felt his anger begin to rise and burn through his veins like the lava rivers of Mustafar, trying to distract himself he grabbed his blades from the workbench and strapped them into the lining of his combat boots. Now that they were hidden he moved over to his weapons locker and entered the code to unlock his mobile armory.

“I'll need to either change the code or get a better locking device.” he thought to himself as he retrieved his pair of DL-44's and a couple of 50 round powercells for each pistol,as he strapped the holstered blasters to his legs he became focused on the task at hand.

“What better place in the galaxy for a man of my “abilities” to find work than Nar Shaddaa.” he thought to himself as he downloaded all the information on the smugglers moon from the ships computer, whilst the information was scrolling down on the screen of his datapad he noticed a district called “The Corellian District” caught his eye so he made a mental note to visit it at some point on this trip, deciding that he had spent enough time preparing for any situation he might encounter he left his ship.

As he made his way down the boarding ramp his sense's were assaulted by all kinds of sights, sounds,textures and smells, every building in the thoroughfare were lined by neon lights, each strip of light sported a different color that bathed the street and pedestrians in an iridescent multicolored glow. The aromas that wafted out from within the eating establishments began to make his mouth water and long for home. As Dracon stood there and let the sensations wash over him he quickly scanned his surroundings for threats, he knew he wouldn't last long if he was not vigilante.

Once he was satisfied that everything was as it should be he made his way to the nearest cantina and as he walked his long coat billowed out behind him like an eerie specter. 20 grimnals after he had left his ship he finally reached his destination, from outside the bar he could hear the sound of chatting voices, the noise reminded Cor of a swarm of buzzing insects. Cautiously he made his way inside trying to make himself as imposing as possible but without trying to make it impossible for contacts from approaching him with job prospects.

The inside of the tavern looked as rough on the inside as it had on the outside, the lights were kept low and there was a fog of smoke that made visibility limited, the only place where the lights were bright enough to see was over the bar and the booths that lined the edge of the room, in the middle there was seating area and Sabacc tables. Dracon made his way through the maze of tables towards the bar the place was a hive of activity and he knew that not all of it was legal.

When he reached the bar he ordered a Corellian ale followed up by a whiskey chaser, the bar keeper placed the drinks Cor had ordered in front of him. Dracon grabbed the shot and downed it in one allowing the amber liquid coat his throat and he felt the warmth radiate through his body, slamming the glass down he then picked up the ale and walked over towards one of the vacant booths.

Before he slid into the booth he removed his coat revealing the intricate design of gang tattoos, each one depicting his deeds that enabled him to rise trough the ranks, each one he wore as a badge of honour. It wasn't long before his gambit paid off and he was approached by a shady looking Chevin.

“Greetings Friend, my name is Verjo Higla.” the Chevin said in thick accented Huttese, “Do you require assistance?” She finished with a sly grin on her face.

“Do I know you?” Dracon replied as he slowly reached for for his blaster.

“You don't know me, but I know you or rather I know of you.” she replied.

“How do you know of me?” Dracon asked inquisitively

“From your tattoos, plus the fact I recognized  your ship when it landed.” She paused and moved in closer. “I also know that you were the man that killed Norgam!”
Trying not to look surprised Dracon pulls his blaster from its holster but keeps it concealed under the table

“So how do you propose to help me then?” Dracon asked sceptically

“If your here that can only mean one of two things, one your here on a job or two your here looking for a job.” The Chevin looked over her shoulder and then sat opposite Dracon. “You wont find anyone else who can point you towards employment any better than me, I have my contacts.”

“Go on I'm interested.” Dracon replied watching the Chevin trying to read whether she was telling the truth or if she was leading him into a trap.

“Basically there are many employers on Nar Shaddaa that could use you, but most are not trustworthy.” She paused and once again looked over her shoulder. “I would recommend that you contact Tarsk Mal'fey, he is the Vigo of the Black Sun and I know that he is looking for people of a certain discretion.”

Dracon stared down at his drink thoughtfully before picking it up and draining it “So say that I wanted to contact this Tarsk, how would I go about it?” He asked as he placed the glass back down in front of him.

“I thought you'd ask that, this is the only way that I know of.” she said as she pulled a datapad from her belt and slid it across the table towards Dracon, Cor picked up the device before it had even stopped moving, he put the datapad into his pocket and got up to leave.

“I'll see you again soon!” Verjo sad as Dracon was moving towards the door.

“For your sake I hope not!” Dracon shouted over is shoulder as he left.

Once Dracon was outside he felt that the temperature had dropped and the street seem unusually empty, not wanting to hang around too long Dracon wrapped his coat around him and made his way quickly back to his ship the only sounds he heard on his way back was the dull thudding his combat boots made as they struck the duracrete surface.

He had made good time and was releaved to be back at the Dark Messenger in half the time it took him to get to the cantina, as soon as he was on board he went straight to the cockpit and ran the datapad through the ships scanner just to check that there were no bugs,tracking device's or explosives secreted into the device, the scans all came back clean  so Dracon activated the holo feed  using the ships holo projectors to clean the image up. The air in front of him shimmered and the image of a Bothan came to life beside the image was a list of details about the jobs on offer and the contact information. One job in particular caught Cor's eye, it was a bounty hunting job the bounty was on a group of Smugglers that had stolen from the Black Sun, deciding that this job was perfect for him Dracon activated the holo projectors to record a message that he would send to the Vigo.

“Greetings Vigo, My name is Dracon Cor.” He said as he bowed respectfully “I wish to seek an audience with you at your earliest convinence in regards to the bounty hunting job.”
Dracon paused and thought about what he was going to say next
“I am a man of many talents and I believe that I am just the person your are looking for to help you get rid of this problem, I am at your service and I look forward to hearing from you.”

Dracon once again bowed then shut the feed off now it was only a matter of time he thought to himself as he sat down and sank back into the pilots chair.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

“Ryann, wait.”
   
Ryann stopped in his tracks, almost out of the ship, almost away from the group when he heard Torin’s heavy voice. With a heavy sigh, Ryann turned his head backwards, along with his waist, to face the Mandalorian who addressed him. Ryann’s face already showed signs of change: he had a bit of a growing beard and his hair was slightly growing out now. He looked ragged, as if he was on the fringe for a month.
   
“We got a call-back.”
   
“Huh? Already? Tarsk probably wants to remind me that it’s alive and not dead.” He said out loud as he turned his body around and with a quick little step in his walk pushed himself up on the ramp. Little tiny thoughts began to precipitate in his head about how he should take this job and let some low-level bounty hunter take it and do it for him, but with his honor in question he pushed those thoughts down deep in his head. With Torin at his side, Ryann walked along the semi-unfamiliar corridors of his stolen ship towards the main meeting area that Vekis and Lyra were waiting in.
   
As they walked back in, Vekis motioned his head towards the holo-viewer with a little twitch. Ryann walked off almost immediately, Torin taking his place somewhere else. Ryann, as soon as he was secure, closed the door behind him and sat down. Pressing down on a button, the face of Tarsk Mal’fey popped up, a 3-D image projected across the cosmos of the galaxy.
   
“Yes?” Ryann responded first, asking the question, putting Tarsk up to immediately get into the issue.
   
“The situation has changed, Mister Ravensword. You have additional targets on your list.” Tarsk spoke to him with a tone, something Ryann was more than used to in his time as a mercenary and definitely in his time as an Imperial pilot. Ryann recognized it as the tone of higher importance, as if Tarsk was more important and that dug deep in Ryann.
   
It pissed him off.
   
“You have two new persons, one who is identified as a fair skin Jensaarai and the other a dark skinned unknown. Both are Force Users, and…”
   
“Woah, wait. Force Users? With lightsabers and all?”
   
“Is that a problem?”
   
“A fifty thousand credit problem, yes.”
   
The image of Tarsk frowned.
   
“So you cannot handle it?”
   
“I might be good at what I do, but there is no way I’m good enough to capture two Jedi and especially if the benefit of it all would be a meager fifty thousand.”
   
“Mister Ravensword, I can always acquire another bounty hunter.”
   
“Yeah, you could, but then again who’d want to take the bounty for two Jedi and high level smugglers for fifty thousand? And, if they did, actually succeed?” He spoke, his bright blue eyes peering forward with a tiny slit, as if probing Tarsk’s intelligence. Tarsk looked at Ryann with a neutral face, but Ryann knew that he was burrowing deep. He only hoped that the Vigo would swing his way.
   
Silence, for a few seconds, seemed to stretch into hours.
   
“Two hundred and fifty.”
   
“Half up front.”
   
“One twenty five will be wired now, the rest later. You can keep your upgrades as well into the deal.”
   
“That’s fine. I’ll contact you when I have the targets. Ravensword out.” Ryann said, and with a flick of his finger he ended the feed, before Tarsk could say anything else in his regard. Ryann smiled at himself, that felt almost fulfilling for the moment, but the smile on his face disappeared as he stood up and turned his body around.
   
“Change of plan.” He stated as he walked out of the holo-protector room. Vekis took his eyes from his reading material to look up at Ryann. Lyra turned her head to face the leader of their group from her boots, shining brightly from meticulous care with fine, soft boot polish. Torin did not acknowledge Ryann, instead gussying up his blaster pistol with care and a tender spot to his hands.
   
“Tarsk says we’re hunting Jedi. Also said something about Jensaarai.”
   
“Jensaarai?” Lyra asked the first question, gaining a response from Vekis.
   
“Force User group, from Susefvi. They’re like Jedi, but frak more aggressive and aren’t hesitant to kill you if you’re in the way of their Greater Good. I’ve seen one in action, and he wasn’t exactly the Luke Skywalker of his clan, but he was powerful.” Vekis stated, using his knowledge of Jensaarai to explain to Ryann.
   
“Well, the rest are the same besides the Jedi. So it shouldn’t be too difficult. All we have to do is bomb the cantina and we’re done.” Torin said, looking up from his blaster, in the process of cleaning it.
   
“Torin, you frakhead, Tarsk wants them alive.”
   
“Oh, frak. We’re screwed then.” Torin said, looking at Ryann, who just merely gave a small smile before he ended the conversation.
   
“Torin, you about summed up the mission.”

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

The Black Pazaak, as his father’s cantina had been named so many years ago,  blended into the surrounding seedy area of Nar Shaddaa just fine. It had been far too long since he had set foot anywhere near it – not since his father had died. Jono had been monitoring the entrance to the establishment for over half an hour. He watched as various species, both alien and human alike, came and went. From the outside, the cantina seemed calm. Jono knew he couldn’t take any chances though. Since his arrival on the planet, he had already heard several conversations about the Black Sun corporation and their recent “incident”. It didn’t take any genius to guess that the incident involved himself, a war between two smuggling factions, and a handful of lucky hired hands that were fortunate enough to escape with their own lives.
Jono’s gaze dropped to the floor as he wondered how Aray and the others were doing. He owed them for the stunt they pulled back on Coruscant. His thoughts immediately turned to his discussion with Asshur. The crime boss was still under the distinct impression that Jono had ratted out his entire operation. If he had wanted to, Asshur could have pinned the entire incident on him. There just wasn’t time to explain. There wasn’t a reason to. Besides, he got his andris back. It couldn’t be in more capable hands. Jono had squared his debt with Asshur as far as he was concerned.

Movement by the door. The acting owner of the cantina, a Twi’lek by the name of Olee exchanged a few words with the guard by the door and disappeared behind the back of the establishment.

Gotcha, Olee… you rat bastard.

Jono quickly stowed his microbinoculars and set off to intercept Olee behind the cantina. Staying close to the neighboring wall, he waited until the guard wasn’t looking and slipped right on past the corner. It was even darker in the alley than it had been across the street, but his eyes didn’t take long to focus. A hushed conversation could be heard only a short distance away. Jono had lived above the cantina for the entirety of his childhood, so he could still recall the layout of the building quite well. As he rounded a odorous waste dumpster alongside the alleyway, Jono shifted his weight to the adjacent wall and slowly peeked around the corner. Olee stood amongst two other gentleman, one a Trandoshan, the other of a species he recognized from somewhere in the Tatooine system. The two men wore mercenary bandoliers lined with all sorts of nasty weapons and devices, obvious bounty hunters or mercenaries of some type. It was taking Jono every ounce of reserve he had not to rush out and attack the three right there and then.

You’d better hope they kill you, Olee. You traitorous son of a—

But Jono never finished his sentence. A large hand grasped his entire shoulder and spun him around forcefully. It was the guard from the doorway. Jono immediately sized him up in the darkness. He was armed, and already had a blaster pointing in his direction. The man was hefty, for a human, and could probably overpower him in a hand-to-hand fight. Jono knew he had the upper hand in both cleverness and smarts, however. The guard squinted in the dark trying to get a better look at whoever he had just discovered, but couldn’t quite see. Keeping his hand on Jono’s shoulder, he called out to Olee who had just parted with the two mercenaries.

“Dis’ one of yours, Olee?” The guard grunted. Olee was momentarily distracted with the screen of a datapad he had just been handed by one of the mercenaries, and didn’t bother to look up. Jono took advantage of this moment and planted the heel of his foot firmly in the guard’s groin. The large oaf of a man made a noise that was half scream, half choke, and fell like a ton of bricks to the ground. The noise made Olee jump, causing the nervous Twi’lek to drop his datapad. Jono had already wrenched the blaster free from the guard’s hand, bashed him squarely in the jaw with the butt of it. and tossed it further into the darkness where he would never find it. Olee scrambled to get out his keycard, the only way to open the back door of the cantina. Jono dashed forward and tackled Olee’s skinny frame to the ground before he could get the door open.

“Oh, no! Please! I don’t have any money… I-I’m not even from around here. Please, let me go!” The Twi’lek was nearly crying. Clearly, he hadn’t seen Jono approach and had no idea who he was. With one swift motion, Jono pulled the man to his feet and shoved him hard against the metal door.

“Open it.” He ordered harshly.

It took absolutely no time for the Twi’lek to get the door open this time. Upon enterting, Jono grabbed him by his collar and directed him to his left, up the stairs that would lead them to the loft above the cantina. Olee had no doubt claimed this space for himself since Jono’s father’s death. The two moved sloppily up the stairs, still unnoticed by the cantina’s patrons. Jono shoved Olee through the door, causing him to lose his footing and stumble onto all fours.

He continued to beg. “Please… what do you want from me?! We are in a place of business.”

Jono locked the door from the inside and calmly turned to the sniveling man on the floor. “What the hell have you done, Olee. What have you told them?”

Suddenly, the fear disappeared from Olee. Rising to his knees, he finally looked at his assailant and realized who it was. Olee’s face changed from that of fear, to excitement and then back to certain fear again. “Heh… Jono…. What are you doing here? I thought—“

WHAM! One solid punch to the face. Courtesy of Jono Kajja.

Olee hit the ground even harder this time. If he hadn’t been scared before, he certainly was now. Jono casually kneeled down beside the fallen Twi’lek and spoke directly to him.

“I know what you’ve been up to, Olee, so spare me the excuses.” The Twi’lek couldn’t even form coherent sentences through his exaggerated cries. “I came back because I need to talk to somebody.  But before I do that, I need to know how much you’ve told them. Do they know I’m here?”

Olee wiped his eyes and rolled to his side, vacantly nodding. Jono cursed to himself silently. “How many are downstairs?”

“At least three separate parties. About 7 or 8 in number.”

“Frak. You have got to be kidding me, Olee. How the hell could you do this to me?”

This incited the Twi’lek, who now stood up to his full height. “They threatened to shutdown the business, to shutdown your father's business! There was nothing I could do!”

Jono knew he was telling the truth. But it didn’t change anything. The bounty hunters downstairs knew that he was coming to the cantina, and they knew what he looked like to. It was only a matter of time before the guard outside stirred them all into a frenzy.

He had to get in touch with Aray and the others. Before it was too late.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

Vornis’ lightsaber slid through the next durasteel door like paper being cut with a lasbolt, cutting out a huge circle in the middle of the locked door as laser fire rained all around him. Near him was the dark-skinned Jedi, using his lightsaber to deflect all the shots that were coming towards the Force using duo. He felt the heat coming from the blaster fire that whizzed past his head, but his complete concentration on the door and how he needed to cut through it.
   
He was relying, for one of the few times since Karumei left his care, on someone else.
   
He completed the rotation, and the block of door slammed down on the ground with a resounding, rather hollow sound. He jumped through, before he immediately flipped into a Soresu stance and deflected blaster bolts that escaped from a remote controlled blaster sensor. The bolts were reflected back with accuracy, the bolts destroying the sensor and silencing its turret forever. His compatriot jumped into the hallway with him, and they took off with the Force aiding their escape.
   
With the Force, they bounded up to the hallway door in front of them, blaster bolts now following their direction.
   
“Another door. I think this one is magnetically sealed, and lightsabers would take awhile to breakthrough.”
   
“You’re right…The vents!” Vornis exclaimed, looking up. The vent he was looking at was pretty large, enough for he and the Jedi to escape into. The dark-skinned Jedi nodded in agreement, and stood in front of Vornis before he slipped into another defensive stance. Vornis, using the power of the Force, threw his lightsaber up into the air and made a square in the vent above him, quickly and with due haste.
   
The dark-skinned Jedi jumped high up into the vent first, propelling himself with such speed that was not only required with the Force but made Vornis hesistate for the briefest of moments. Why would someone with that much power take the time to ally himself with the simple Blademaster?
   
Answers would come later.
   
He zipped upwards into the vent, using his latent powers to push his body up into the small box-like space, but he could feel the Jedi near him. He, with his eyes, saw him moving forward into the vent, and he followed quickly. Blaster bolts could be heard and some seen penetrating into the vent, motivating the pair to move quicker and with much more haste than they previously planned.
   
“There’s a junction. I’ll go left.” The Jedi said, veering off quickly. Vornis acknowledged with a grunt, and crawled faster than he did previously to get past the sound of death following them. Only going a few more meters, he brandished his lightsaber and cut open a square in the vent floor. With a powerful kick, he broke the square down into the lower room, and followed it out of the vent.
   
He landed in the middle of a harem.
   
The large oval room was draped with such finery that Vornis thought he had landed in a presidential suite on some rich planet in the Core Worlds. It was a burgundy color in paint and finery, draping such fine fabric all around the room with a large fountain in the middle. Females of many races were about in the room, Vornis himself could spot out a Wroorian and a couple of Zeltrons mixed in with the humans and the Twi’leks, but the Jensaarai merely nodded at them as they originally screamed when he jumped down. Some of them giggled at him, others merely smiled and thought thoughts that Vornis did not want to explore at the time, quickly turning around and exiting the harem.
   
He was now in a brightly lit hallway, his lightsabers both activated and his feet quickly moving forward. He blinked quickly as his eyes adjusted to the dramatic light change, and his ears picked up the sound of footsteps behind him that were heavy and repulsive, as if they were trying to catch up.
   
His concentration allowed him to turn his body on the spot, still backstepping but his chest facing the guards chasing him. He saw the cadre of four guards still chasing him, a farcry from the ten that were following him and the Jedi. He saw the red blaster bolts that escape from their rifles, and he immediately went into complete concentration. Both of his blades twisted and turned into positions that were not normal for any human, his body flipping backwards. This move let him deflect five shots back at his enemy while his body narrowly avoiding six.
   
He was back on his feet in the direction he was originally heading in, the sound of a body hitting the floor still pushing him.
   
He was now in the main lounge, where another guard had stayed in and waited. Almost as immediately as Vornis entered the guard turned and fired a burst shot from his carbine. Vornis rolled behind a table and, using the Force, pushed it a good ten yards into the guard across the room. The wood table broke into him, pushing him over a nearby bar and into the bottles of liquid. Vornis turned to his left and shoved a chair down the access way up into the main cantina, which was now empty thanks to the commotion that Vornis and his ally had stirred. The chair shoved into the first guard who had just came into the access way, knocking him down and creating a pileup in guards.
   
He exited the cantina quickly, and came up in front of the Jedi who was sitting in a repulsorlift craft, trying to hotwire it. Near him he could see a unconscious or dead guard, he could not tell, but he hoped he was dead. Vornis jumped into the craft as it was powering up, and the Jedi grabbed the wheel as he sat himself down in the driver’s seat. Vornis stayed in the back, and he watched as other vehicles began to activate back behind them, before they disappeared as the Jedi turned the vehicle around a building.
   
Now the Jedi had to answer a few questions.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

Rawn pushed food around in his ceramic bowl before pinching a beet-red sliver of braised meat between his clawed fingers. Normally, he enjoyed kibi, but the limp strip of meat resembled a piece of raw liver, which was not too tasty to this Barabel.

A voice, Bothan, a little slurry around the edges: "Something bothering you, Rawn?"

The Barabel looked up to lock eyes with Tarsk Mal'fey, who sat opposite across an expanse of table loaded with dishes. Tarsk always ate well the evening before a large corperate business meeting, and tonight was no exception with the trade convention going underway in the center of Galactic City. A myriad of delicacies littered the table. He was chewing with gusto, and Rawn placed his bowl down. Replacing the braised meat in his bowl, he folded his hands in his lap. "My Vigo, I think the time is right for us to consider hiring more bounty hunters to hunt these thieves down. I don't think hiring this Ryann is enough for me to rest tonight with confidence. Those thieves cannot get away with selling what was ours and I cannot rest until they are captured or killed, with the Andris recovered. The CSU has already severed ties with Black Sun, so our only key to make more Andris is to synthesize it to our standards to sell to the market. But that will not happen until it is back in our possession."

"Bah," said Tarsk around a piece of habbis root. "We don't have the time to find another, Rawn. Even if I had the time, this Ryann must already be on their trail by now on Nar Shaddaa. At least he better be."

"Nevertheless, I insist…"

"Our duty for now," said Tarsk, with sudden energy, "is to restore the network to full capacity and carry on with our plot against the New Republic. What, you think this Ryann cannot handle it?"

Rawn's eyes narrowed. "If you mean, that just one ooman and his band of mercs can find them in the center of all scum and villany called Nar Shaddaa… yes. I just had another bounty hunter contact our job list and I seriously must have you consider hiring him to hunt these schuttas down! I just looked at his credentials and he is perfect for the job. His name is Dracon Cor." A datapad was slid across the table.

"He is most eager to join Black Sun's services," said the majordomo. "And that is us." He watched as the Bothan's servants bustle in to remove dishes and set a tray of sweets before the Vigo. He watched Tarsk select a green-and-red sweet bean pastry shaped like a miniature rancor and pop it into his mouth.

"Very well, Rawn, if you insist that much," he said, his words a little gluey. He chewed, swallowed, groaned. "Go ahead and contact this Dracon and offer him the same amount that I have offered Ryann. Same terms as always, my friend. You know how these bounty hunters like to get greedy, so let them fight it out on who gets the bounty first," he concluded, fingering up a piece of kanali wafer. "These are superb."

"My Vigo," said Rawn, a little impatiently now, as the servants left. How could his Vigo gorge on sweets at a time like this, when they were about to embark on taking down the NR's top men and their intelligence agent and still have not secured these thieves who had taken their possible new cash crop in the spice market? "I am grateful you finally have seen–"

He silenced him with a cut of the hand. "Contact him now and have him debark for his hunt. Let us not waste time and have these thieves captured and our Andris retrieved. Oh, and" –he pinched up another pastry– "offer both bounty hunters a bonus for the first who bring back our quarry. That will give them motivation."

Rawn stood up and nodded his scaly head. "Yes, my Vigo." Bowing, he left without another word.

Tarsk waited until the door hissed shut, then jabbed a call button. "Bring in Yara when she has a moment. I wish to hear her latest update on Ms. Navin…"

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

The Jensaarai was good, if a bit slow for Kite's taste. The Force was strong with him, but he was limited at best. Of course, Kite was not particularly skilled in the usuage of the Force, although he was advanced in his own right. And of course, his old age didn't help his concentration one bit. The blaster bolt that came devilishly close to ending his flight. His mind snapped back to attention, a frown crossing his face. He deflected the next one back at one of the guards, catching him in the leg. There was a cry of pain as the guard fell, followed by the heavy sound of a door falling. Kite moved back, his two lightsabers expertly sending blaster bolts into the walls before turning to let the Jensaarai take over.

"Another door."

Said Kite as he examined it. He frowned once more. This could cause a problem.

"Magnetically sealed, I think. We don't have time for this. Suggestions?"

At least the Jensaarai's mind worked quickly.

"The vents!"

The Jensaarai said, his attention on the guards. Kite nodded in agreement, stepping in front of Vornis as his lightsabers moved to free Vornis'. The vents opened quickly enough, and Kite deflected the last few bolts before the Force propelled him through the vents. He was glad his physical skills had not dimmed, even in these dull years after the fall of the empire. They came in handy in the confined space of the vents, moving him to urgency as blaster fire ripped into the weak metal. It was too cramped to safely us his lightsabers, so the old man made do with his agility.

A junction. The Jedi quickly moved towards the left, leaving the right to the Jensaarai. It would be best to split up for the moment, to try and find a means of escape. After a few moments, Kite cut a square out of the floor, propelling the metal down onto the head of an unfortunate guard. He dropped down, noticing more people in cages.

"Greetings from the Jedi."

Kite said with a smile, moving to a computer panel that was nearby. He expertly sliced the system, then opened the cages and Security doors. That should make things easier. many of the slaves stampeded towards the door, many in tears of joy. The old Jedi mixed among them, the Force crushing several guards against the walls as they made their escape.

Coming upon a guarded repulsorlift craft, Kite dived into the driver's seat as the guard opened fire. The side of the craft was peppered, but the guard stopped momentarily, giving Kite the chance he needed. His lightsaber was returning from it's flight even as he rigged the ignition. An old trick he had learned as a child, when his energetic and mischievous ways earned him many a lecture from the Jedi Masters.

The Jensaarai arrived just in time. The rest of the building had been alerted by their escape, and vehicles were powering up behind them. But this old man still knew a trick or two. Disappearing behind a corner, Kite lost himself in the traffic of the planet. They had time, if even a little, to figure something out. The Jensaarai was staring at him by now. Something was on his mind.

"If you have any questions, now is the time. Whoever was behind that slave ring won't be too happy about us busting it."

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

“The way I see it, Kajja owes me for the rescue on Coruscant.”

Aray glared at Jerva. “That’s the third time you said that.”

“I guess I really mean it then,” he retorted. “Black Sun isn’t known for its forgiving nature.”

The third member of the group, the hybrid, chose that moment to chime in, “Give it a rest, Jerva. We all know the druk we’re in.”

Jerva shrugged, rolling his eyes, knowing that if the leadership over at Black Sun had any semblance of brains, they’d have people on Nar Shaddaa gunning for them. He hung back, staying slightly behind Aray and Claw as they strolled down one of the elevated streets of the smuggler’s moon. Kutac tried to keep a wary eye on all of the pedestrians around him, but he found that the between dodging inebriated aliens, street noise, and of course the usual thread of thieves trying to steal his ill-gotten gains, wariness proved difficult, especially as they descended into the seedier areas of the moon.

He kept his thoughts about that to himself.

After a seeming eternity, Aray pointed out one of the seedier cantinas. “That’s the place,” she announced.

They were just about to duck inside when Johnathan Claw stiffened. Noticing this, Jerva’s hand instinctively went to his holstered blaster, and Aray glanced at both of them curiously.

“What…”

Her words trailed off as blaster bolts spattered against the duracrete. Jerva ducked, searching for the source of the incoming fire, and glanced toward Claw long enough to see him rushing through various types of running sentients, toward a Rodian parking a swoop.. He paused to shout, “Take care of her,” and then shoved the alien off, gunned the swoop, and vanished into the maze of towering buildings.

Confused, Jerva grabbed Aray and jerked her through the door of the cantina.

Aray tried to pull him back out the door. “We have to go back for John.

Jerva shook his head. “We can’t. We’re better off to warn Jono. Claw is on his own for now.”

“But, we have to save him.”

“Listen. Any minute, a whole herd of nasties are gonna bust through that door,” Jerva punctuated with a gesture at the door in question, “It’s gonna want us, and Kajja, too, probably.”

After a few seconds, she nodded.

 The door burst, spilling heavily armed goons into the room.

Aray led Jerva toward a stairway crowded with heavily armed men as the new arrivals fanned out through the cantina, searching for their prey.

Jerva smiled coldly and pulled his blaster. “Now might be a good time to duck,” he matter-of-factly said, firing off a bolt in the general direction of their newly arrived friends, and then quickly ducking out of sight behind a table.

Their return fire peppered the walls around the stairway, causing the mercenaries crowding the stairs to deploy into the main portion of the bar. Spreading into a skirmish formation and opening fire on their counterparts that they thought had shot at them.

Jerva holstered his blaster and then he and Aray ran for the stairs, easily passing through the skirmish line of mercenaries advancing into the bar. They snuck up the stairs, and into an alcove where a brown haired man holstered a blaster when he noticed their arrival, and Jerva nodded at him, recognizing Jono.

Jono gestured at the firefight. “I hope you have a plan for getting us out of here.”

 “They’re not going to keep shooting at each other forever,” Aray observed. “We need to find John.”

 “Some people,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

“The way I see it, Kajja owes me for the rescue on Coruscant.”

Aray glared at Jerva. “That’s the third time you said that.”

“I guess I really mean it then,” he retorted. “Black Sun isn’t known for its forgiving nature.”

That’s when I chose to chime in, “Give it a rest, Jerva. We all know the druk we’re in.” Well, I did anyway, I’m still not sure that Aray knew what she had landed herself in.  This was a time to be running, hiding, repainting the hull of her boat, not going for a drink in a seedy bar on Nar Shadaa.  The “I have more bounty hunters on me than I can hold” moon.  I should have been telling her this.  Jerva, I couldn’t care less about, one less snorer in the world far as I’m concerned, but meeting Aray’s father had thrown me off my game.  For some reason I felt like a teenager again.  I had dealt with the Hutts plenty of times, much to my nose's displeasure.  I’ve tracked more bounties for those rotund slugs then I can remember.  But did I mention any of this, no.  I sat there and stared like a pimply teenager waiting for permission to speak.  Maybe this home thing was all just a big mistake, too much talking at 4 in the morning.  Ugh, I’m hired for less then a day, and already I’m having second thoughts, great way to start a new job.  What the hell, we need to collect Jono anyway.  Guy sure could pick a spot.  It was a seedy bar in an even seedier neighborhood.  A few levels down from the main docking bays, it was close enough to be convenient, but not close enough to be noticed.  A perfect place to hide, or a perfect place to be caught, either way I hope they have good whiskey.

"There it is boys, The Black Pazaak, and I don't know about you, but I know I could really use a drink."

I grinned in spite of myself. "You and me both darlin." I replied.  She was growing on me alright, and judging by her pheromone levels, I was growing on her too.  Jerva mumbled "Why else would we go to a cantina?" low enough so Aray couldn’t hear, but there isn't much that these senses of mine miss.  I hear things that I have no business hearing from across the room.  The ice in drinks crackling as warm liquid is poured over it; it’s like a tiny scream.  The fact that the holo-bass guitarist inside needs to resync his A string projection as it’s playing off-key.  I can also smell the perfume of the 5 women closest to me and tell you that I’m probably not eating anything here, if the smells wafting out are any indication of the food.  Still, no matter the smells or sounds tonight, all I want is to get back to the ship without things getting too interesting.  Of course, right after thinking that, I smelled it.  It was faint at first, but it was unmistakable.  Fear.  Some people wonder how an animal can tell when you’re afraid.  It’s a mix of things really, first your body flushes with adrenaline for the fight or flight response.  This causes certain chemicals to emit from your body, very potent to an animal with a heightened sense of smell.  Your heart beats faster, and you get this look in your eye.  Much like the look the bouncer had now.  I tried to pick up what he was saying over the crowd, and just managed to make out “…uests have arrived”.  This was followed by another sound from inside the cantina.  A sound that is hauntingly familiar to anyone in the military.  The *clack* of someone slamming a battery pack in.  The slight whine of the blaster rifle's systems whirring to life, and the sound of 6 chairs being pushed back as their occupants got up.  We were walking into a trap.  I froze mid stride, Aray didn't notice, but Jerva immediately went for his holster.  

I looked at Jerva, my eyes wide, but before I could speak the shots rang out.  I heard the shot leave the chamber much sooner then the others, and therefore was able to reflexively roll to the right before the first shot landed.  The shots had come from behind, probably a sniper placed to herd us into the cantina so they could surround and capture us.  I listened to the direction of the last echo to determine where the shot had been fired from.  Once I knew the location I needed to get mobile, and fast, to give them a harder target.  Bolting through the crowd, I headed for the street.  If I could get a speeder, then maybe we could all escape.  Survive to fight another day.  Then I saw it, a swoop bike just pulling up.  I could go after the sniper with that, and then come back for the others.  The others, Aray, I couldn't just leave her.  I had to make sure that she was ok.  Glancing back, I saw Jerva standing over Aray, pseudo-protecting her.  It would have to do.  "Take care of her!" I shouted back to him, and then continued on to the bike.

The Rodian was just stepping off when I erupted out of the crowd.  The last thing that he saw before taking an enforced nap was my fist.  Hopping on the bike, I kicked it into gear, only to receive an error message.
"Fingerprint ID invalid, please place thumb against plate for engine to start" was displayed in Rodian and common sub-text.  “Right” *Snikt* "Sorry Pal" I said as I picked up the Rodian’s right hand, and sliced off the thumb.  Pressing the Rodian’s bloody thumb to the plate the bike said “User identification confirmed” and the swoop’s engine roared to life.  The crowd was panicked and running from the blaster shots, and didn’t notice or didn’t care about what had transpired.  Taking a last look at my companions who were headed into the bar with the crowd, I revved the engine and tore into the street.  Now ships, I don’t know nothin about.  Don’t know how to talk to a nav computer, and don’t get me started on droids.  Swoops, on the other hand, swoops I know just fine.

The shots from the sniper had come from a building on the northwest side of the street.  I scanned the rooflines as I zipped through traffic, but I didn’t see anyone.
“Frak! Don’t tell me I lost him.” I swore to myself.  The question was answered by a blaster shot being fired, not from the roof of the building, but the much lower scaffolding in front of it.  The burning laser bolt missed me by inches, but gave the unfortunate guy behind me a broken transparisteel window.  This set off a chain of events, the description of which I cannot begin to explain.  Keep in mind, when you’re strapped to an engine with a repulsorlift at maybe 80 mph, things tend to get fuzzy.  I know it made the news that night, so they probably got a better view then I did.  All I heard was some screeching, an impact of some sort, followed by another crunch like impact; a scattering of metal, wood collapsing, and then a very loud explosion.  

The hovertruck that had been a few cars behind me erupted into a ball of flame.  The force of the blast threw me off the swoop.  I saw the hover transport in front of me, and the transparisteel window.  *CRASH*  The transparisteel shattered, luckily, the bus was headed back to the depot, and was empty.  But that didn’t stop the shattered material from cutting my arms and back as I traveled through.  I landed on my back, a shard of the window painfully lodged in my side. “AH!” I screamed.  The bus driving droid slammed on the brakes, which made me slide along the floor, the shard in my back agonizingly recording every inch of travel.  My back arched and I rolled onto my stomach.  “Remember, one swift motion.” I reminded myself, my eyes watering up from the pain.  I reached back, grabbed the tip of the 2 inch long shard of transparisteel, and yanked it out as fast as I could.  The pain was excruciating and my back muscles spasmed uncontrollably.  I don’t care how fast I can heal, getting blown through a window frakking hurts, and all my body wanted to do at that moment was rest.  I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do that for a while though.  Even as I laid on the aisle of the bus, I could feel the pain subsiding from the wounds around my body, and the blood slow as the ruptured blood vessels began to clot.  Scabs appeared on my arms and back where the cuts were superficial.  My “gift” was fixing me so I could endure more pain then any man could or should…joy.  

I thought about my situation, the explosion and my subsequent flight probably threw the sniper off my trail, but he was still out there, and it would only be a matter on time before he found me.  I had left Aray and Jerva to take care of the sniper, and he was no longer an immediate threat to them.  It hadn’t gone as planned, but then again, when did anything I do go according to plan.  I managed to stand, my body protested with dull throbs of pain, like the kind you get when you bang your toe, and you feel the blood rushing there.  My whole back felt like that right about now.  I had been in worse pain then this before, “Gotta keep moving, gotta survive” I thought.  Stumbling to the front of the bus, the droid driver looked at me and scanned my face.  

“You have not paid your toll, pay now, or exit the bus!” the computer scolded me.  Have I mentioned that I really don’t like droids?  *SNIKT*

After forcefully removing the droid from the driver’s chair, I plunked down into it myself.  The metal seat designed for a droid that doesn’t need comfort pushed up hard on my back, making me wince.  I glanced over the displays and noticed that thankfully the droid didn’t have time to shut the engine off, cause I wouldn’t have known how to start this thing if my life depended on it, which it kinda did at the moment.  Taking hold of the wheel, I clicked the touchscreen display for drive.  The screen animated the transmission to the drive position, and I immediately had to hit the brakes to avoid the deadlock traffic caused by the explosion.  A blue button was beeping and flashing on the console.  It was annoying me, so I hit it.  Honestly, when will I learn?  I felt the repulsorlifts kick into high gear, and the hoverbus rise off the ground further.  “Uh oh” I thought.  The bus rose higher into the air, and the steering wheel’s top and bottom part of the ring rotated into the sides making the once familiar steering wheel into a frighteningly unfamiliar t-bar.  “Um, ok this looks like flight mode, I don’t do flight mode, so go back, um undo, ah come on ya piece a crap.” I said to the screen hoping vaguely for it to reply.  Just then I heard a whining start to come closer.  In the rearview I saw the sniper had found me, and was zipping up behind the bus.  He opened fire with his repeater, and the roof of the bus became a spiky mess from his blasts ricocheting off the top of the duracrete hull.  

“Ok, no time to learn” I thought to myself as I slammed on the accelerator pedal.  The bus tilted to the side, and I fell out of the driver’s seat. And grunted in pain as I had landed on my back.  The bus floated to a halt, and righted itself.  “Ok, go pedal is now tilt pedal.”  I scrambled to get back into the driver’s seat, but then caught a glimpse of the sniper outside the window.  Ducking back down as fast as I could, I heard the rifle being fired, and instinctively covered my head as transparisteel rained began to rain down as the windows shattered.  I heard the shots ricochet off the seat, and was suddenly very grateful for that seat being metal.  The shots stopped when he ran out of ammo.  I hopped into the driver’s seat just in time to see him slamming home another battery pack.  He was human, and had a jetpack on with some armor on the chest, and he didn’t look happy.  “Think John think.  Ok, if the go pedal is tilt to the right, then the brake pedal is…” I said to myself as I slammed on the brake.  The bus tilted to the left, the roof of the bus impacting the sniper and knocking him to the ground.  He would recover of course, but not before I’d get away, least that was the plan.  I strapped on the harness that would normally keep the droid in place, and it was tight, but I had already been thrown around enough by this bus.  I pushed the T-bar forward, but instead of rocketing over the speeders, and into the Nar Shadaa skyline, I was sent flying in reverse!  

“WHOA!  What the hell” *BAM* Was the loud sound that erupted in my ears as I impacted with the flaming wreckage.  The impact threw more of my weight onto the t-bar, causing the bus to accelerate faster.  I guess I could look on the bright side, like I’m headed back to help my friends.  Course it’s on a frakking flying bus going in reverse that I have no ruddy clue how to fly, and looking forward I see that Mr. sniper has recovered, and heading my way to boot.  The Black Pazaak was coming up fast behind and to the right; I took a chance and leaned the steering column to the right.  The hoverbus swerved to the new trajectory, and set a direct course through the front of the cantina.  Now all I had to do was apply the brakes and…oh know.  I just realized, if the brake is now the tilt pedal…what’s the brake?  The sniper opened fire on the front of the bus, and I ducked in response.  Lying on the floor, I saw the front doors to the cantina coming up fast.  I hit the floor of the bus, and dug all four of my claws into the floor, so much for my boots.

*BANG* *CRASH* *SLAM* *RATTLE* *SQUEAL*

I hung onto the floor as hard as I could.  The bus shook violently, and even though I tried my darndest, my claws were jostled free, and I tumbled down the aisle, my extended claws raking the seats.  The hard seat impacted my back as reached the end of the bus.  The hard plastic collapsing as my metal framed body hit it.  The bus came to rest half into the bar.  Groaning, I climbed out of the wreckage through the same window I had entered minutes ago, retracting my claws and kicking off my now worthless boots as I did so.   Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins, but I knew that my whole body would ache once it stopped flowing.

Looking around the remnants of the bar I saw a few of the bounty
hunters that had been waiting inside for us.  Well either that or very well armed patrons.  On Nar Shadaa, one couldn't quite be sure.  Either or, they weren’t a problem anymore.

"Well, I guess that's one way" I commented.  I started to worry that I
might have injured my friends when I heard
"My fathers bar!  It’s destroyed!" Jono exclaimed.  Followed quickly by
"John, you're ok!" Aray said running up to me.

"Miss fast, you weren't worried about me now were you?"

Aray blushed but managed to come back with "Please, I just hired you, I didn't want to fill out paperwork."

"Can you two stuff the chatter till after we get out of here."  Jerva added as he finished looting the bodies.

"He’s right for once, let’s get going, Jono, this place do deliveries?" I replied

"Um no, but there is a van out back for when they go to the liquor wholesalers." He said thinking along the same lines.

"Think you can get it going?"

"If he can't, I can" Jerva answered.

Five minutes later and Jono had hot wired the van, and he and Aray were getting in front, Jerva and I were in the back. The hover van pulled out of the back alley, and Jono switched over to flight mode.  We were just entering a flight lane when Jerva shouted
"Watch it John, we've got company."

"I see them" I said.  The rocket powered sniper and two more goons in
speeders were coming up the rear.  They closed quickly and opened fire.

"Jono, get creative with the flying" Jerva shouted.

"Um, we're in a flight lane, what am I supposed to do?"

"ITS NAR SHADAA!" all three of us shouted!

"Oh right, forgot" Jono said remembering that there are no police on
this world who care about traffic violations.  Jono exited the flight lane and headed for open sky.  The rocketman and his henchmen easily followed.  Even I knew that Jono couldn't outrun them in this heap.  They opened fire, and narrowly missed.  Jono was doing the best he could, but sooner or later we'd get hit.

"Jerva, I don't reckon sitting around waiting to be shot out of the sky is the way I want to go, you?"

"Me neither, but we're in the back of a hovervan, any suggestions."

"Yeah" *SNIKT* I answered as I popped my right claw, and opened the left rear door.  Slicing the hinges, the door sailed into the night.

I retracted my claws and said “Here, use this for cover” pointing to the remaining door.  Jerva hesitated for a moment, right I forgot he’d never seen my claws.  “Ok, freak out later, for now, shoot!” I said crouching down and taking aim.  Jerva silently agreed to my postponement of his questions, and stood behind me, and together we started firing back at our pursuers.  The Nar Shadaa skyline was zipping by as we fled the bounty hunters pursuing us.  Apparently we were worth a pretty penny, cause they were not showing any restraint is how much they shot at us or what they hit in the process.  

“Jono, Try going, WHOA!” I yelled out.  The van had been hit and Jono had climbed to avoid being blown to bits, but the sudden shift on weight made me lose my footing, and I started to slide out the door.  I managed to pop out my left claws and dig them into the Van’s floor.  Now I don’t know if any of you have had to pleasure of hanging onto a fast moving vehicle by your finger tips.  Now granted, my fingertips are metal and 6 inches long, but you know what, it still frigging hurts, especially when it’s stretching the muscle that was stabbed earlier.  I screamed though the pain, but didn’t loosen my grip.  Pain will pass, but I don’t think even I could survive a fall from this height.   

“John!” Aray called out from the front of the van.

“Hold on, I got ya” Jerva said as he grabbed my forearm.  Jerva started to pull me up, and I tried to grab the edge with my other hand.  I heard him before he struck, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.  The rocketman had caught up to us, and was streaking in towards the van from the front.  He took a few pot shots at Jono, the van tilted to the left to avoid the lethal shots.  But the motion caused my body to twist, and I felt my claws slip out.  Jerva lost his grip, and slammed against the wall.  I fell back and away from the van, the speeders past overhead moments later, but I saw that the rocketman had gone under the van.  He was going to pass under me.  “Once chance” I thought to myself as I uncoiled my whip.  Rolling in mid air, I cracked the whip in his direction.  It wrapped around his ankles, and I coiled it around my forearm preparing for the pull.  As I fell past him I shouted “Going down?!”, and then the whip went taunt and he started to fall with me.  “The Jetpack he was wearing apparently had a weight limit, even at full blast, we were still falling, but at least it was slowing us down.  The mercenary tried to take out his blaster to shoot at me, but I yanked down hard on his ankles, and the sudden change in direction made him drop the weapon.  The Jetpack seemed to sputter and die from the strain being put on it, and then we were both falling back at full speed.  “Well if I’m going, then you are too” I thought and yanked on the whip again.  The bounty hunter was pulled towards me, and we collided.

“What the hell are you doing? We’ll both die!” The mercenary yelled at me.

“Better then just me!” I yelled back as I headbutted the man’s helmet creating a crack in his visor.  The mercenary seem to restart the jetpack right then as I felt a jolt of acceleration, and suddenly we were spiraling downstairs towards a tall office building.  The man was in armor, and he was probably betting that he could survive a trip through transparisteel better then the barefooted asshole that was on him could.  He was probably right.  This was gonna hurt.

We impacted the transparisteel, shattering it instantly.  His helmet split apart from the impact and the crack already in it.  I felt a shard slice the side of my face.  We flew through what I think was a board room, and through the thin wall.  Crashing into the floor we rolled away from each other.  My whip coiled back into its pommel, I managed to put it back into my belt, as I rolled onto my side.  My world was spinning from the impact, eyes stung with the blood that was filling them.  I tried to stand, but felt a foot impaled itself in my sternum.  I rolled back from the blow.  “Just great, he recovered first” I thought as I tried to roll to a crouch.  Suddenly, *WHAM*.  Something huge had hit me in the temple.  I tried to see his face through my blurred vision, but couldn’t make out anything before his foot kicked me again.

I regained consciousness a few minutes later.  I was still on the floor, and my hand and feet were hogtied together.  The wound in my back burned from the muscle tension on it.  “Ah you’re awake, guess I didn’t hit you hard enough with the water bottle.” he said sitting across the room holding my lightwhip, examining it.  “Interesting, be a nice piece for a museum.” He commented as he put in his belt which whirred shut and locked.

 My vision had cleared by now, and the cut on my head had stopped bleeding.  “Give that back!” I said to him.

“I don’t think you are in any position to give demands.” The bounty hunter smirked.

“Give it back now, and I won’t kill you” I said grinding my teeth.  I’m sure my eyes were already turning red, as this guy was making me angry.

“Don’t get yourself all worked up, it’s just business.” he said as he looked out the window.

That was the last straw.  I popped all four sets of claws, and tore through the force cuffs metal parts with ease.  I was on him in an instant.  Eyes burning red, teeth glistened with saliva, and metal claws impaled in his shoulder.  “Give it back!” I yelled.  

“AHHH!” the bounty hunter screamed in pain.

“Give it BACK!”

“What the hell are you?!” the wide eyed mercenary asked.

“Really pissed off!” I yelled back trying to make my point.

“Here, take it.”  The bounty hunter said having retrieved the lightwhip pommel, and handing it to me.  I took it and replaced it on my weapons belt.  I pressed my claws deeper into his shoulder, watching him wince in pain.  “Who hired you?” I growled.

“Tarsk!” he strained through the pain.

Of course, Tarsk.  I growled at the name.  It made me furious, all he’s done to me, and he still pursues me.  I fought the urge to kill the man in front of me, to eviscerate him, and eat his raw flesh.  I so wanted to, I could smell his blood.  I tried to calm down, and let my rational mind calm the savage.  I felt my eyes stop burning and said to the bounty hunter “Go back and tell Tarsk to leave me and my friends alone, or I’ll kill every single one of you that he sends”.  Better to use him as a message then just wait for the next one to catch up with us.  I pulled out my claws, and he slid down the wall leaving a blood trail behind.  

I started to limp to wherever the elevators were, and I heard him say “Frak it, hope Tarsk pays dead or alive.” I turned back, but he had already activated his jetpack, and flew back out the way we came in.  I was puzzled for a minute but then I heard them.

*beep**beep**beep**beep*
*beep**beep**beep**beep*

Charges, frakking asshole left charges.  I ran for the nearest window as hard as I could.

*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*
*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*

The shockwave caught up with me just as I was impacting the window.  It pushed me through, and I was thrown into the Nar Shadaa sky for the second time that night.  As I tumbled to what I thought was my doom, they say that your life is suppose to flash before your eyes, but the only thing I saw was Aray’s face.  I wonder why that was.  I saw a dark shape come into view, and then the impact on my back as I landed.  Funny I guess, the amount of pain wasn’t as much as I thought it would be.  Maybe it doesn’t hurt when you die.  I saw two figures, and heard two *snap-hiss* before everything faded to black.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

“Explain something to me.” Vornis quickly said, turning back to see that two repulsorlift vehicles had powered up and was heading right, coming up behind them. Vornis looked back and saw the blaster pistol that belonged to the driver. As Kite drove the vehicle around a corner and people immediately took cover, Vornis grabbed the pistol and went into a state of concentration, blocking out everything around him. Things were now slow, as if he could see the slow motion of the things around him: pipes, sparks, people, vehicles, even the buildings themselves. He breathed in deep, and took aim. As Kite still turned the vehicle he squeezed the trigger, aimed right for the driver of the first repulsorlift. It slammed into the Aqualish’s head, exploding outwards onto the passengers in the side seat and behind them.

The vehicle suddenly lurched forward, slamming onto its front bender and throwing the back end up into the air. One passenger forgot to equip his safety harness, and flew forward onto the road, then was smashed flat by the repulsorlift’s upper body. It slid on its ceiling half until it reached a large hole, one that descended to the Lower City. It merely slid off like a body gliding on wet grass; the men screaming out in terror before it went over. Vornis smiled as he turned back around to Kite.

“Why were you at the Slave Ring?”

“Why were you?” He replied with a smile, before he turned his head back and gasped: a bus was driving right in front of him. Kite pulled back on the steering stick, barely missing the bus itself within the span of a few inches. Kite grunted out loud as Vornis himself began to fear for his life a bit as he watched the bus pass under them. Normally not afraid of flying or anything else of the like, Vornis did feel a spring of fear as he sat himself back as far as he could. The repulsorlift following them, however, did not pull up in time, and slammed into the side of the bus with such force that the back half also sprang against the bus’ hull. Lucky for Vornis, and for the occupants of the bus, the side was reinforced, and therefore the only damage was that it was bent in.

“I was there to save someone, but I failed.”

“On the contrary, Jensaarai, you managed to free a lot of slaves.”

“Yeah, well, not the one I wanted, or needed, to.” He replied sullen, the repulsorlift now slowing down to a more manageable speed, the need to go fast eliminated by the destruction of the two repulsorlift vehicles.

Kite looked over to Vornis, his shaggy hair and beard unflattering of his character but definitely matching that of a typical Nar Shaddaa citizen. A smile was accompanying, though, now not thinking about the friend he lost.

“What is your name, friend?”

“Kite Exeter. You?”

“Vornis Falu.” He replied back, his voice now normal and his usual self: vocative, smiling, but most of all having a keen sense of what was going on around him. Kite turned again, his direction for the Space Port, obviously both of their missions were complete. Vornis still had a nagging question on his mind, and now he felt was the best time to ask.

“Kite, you’re a Jedi, right?”

“That's a difficult question to answer. I was, but now…Why do you ask?”

“From when? Before the Sith gained power?”

“That's correct.”

“You remember anyone by my name?”

“Vornis Falu? No, I don’t. But my memory isn't waht it used to be.” He replied, his voice distant to Vornis as he heard the word ‘No’ spring into his head. With the Jedi Records destroyed and the lack of Jedi around, Vornis was definitely sure that he would never find out who his father really was before he turned. He sighed, relaxing into his chair next to Kite, his body just completely releasing the tension in his muscles and allowing him to gain some measure of rest. Since he had landed on this hellish planet he hadn’t have any sort of break, and fatigue was beginning to wear him down.

"Are you-"

Kite began, before he was rudely interrupted by an explosion, accompanied by debris.

The building next to them exploded in a hellfire, fire and stone rushing upwards into the sky and all around them. Because of his relaxed state he could see the stone and objects fly about towards the vehicle. Kite swerved, knowing he wouldn’t have time to avoid the debris, and Vornis knew he was the only change. He stood up with his blade held high, he had activated it as he stood up, and then his art was on display. Simple, elegant twists of the blade caused rock sized debris to be obliterated, large objects pushed back with the force, and when the dust settled a large ‘THUMP’ resounded, a man had shot out of the building and impacted their stolen repulsorlift.

“What the frell?” Vornis said as Kite brought the vehicle to a halt, the man falling to the street a few feet under him. Vornis jumped out and activated his lightsabers as blaster bolts were fired in the distance, but he was not surprised. He had seen a lot of weird things as a Jensaarai, and a man flying out of a building was low on that list. Kite looked down at the person, then at Vornis. But he didn’t have to give him a clue. Vornis, with the aid of the Force, picked up the fallen human male and dropped him in the back of the repulsorlift. Kite then took off down the street with a bit more speed now.

“He’s unconscious.” Vornis said, before he closed his eyes.

“But his body is healing, and strangely quick for a human. It will still take time, however. Can you wake him up so we can get some information?”

“I believe so.” Vornis replied to Kite’s question, looking back at the fallen man, before he sighed and breathed in. His hand was raised above his head, an open palm stretched over the man’s head. Vornis then opened his eyes and bit down on his lower lip, the force of his power attempting to revive the man, if only for a few moments. He grunted, his head shaking, a tear of pain running down his cheek. Then, after a long amount of moments, the man’s eyes flashed open.

“Rest. What is your name?”

“John…”

“What is yo—”

“Aray! Second Hand, spaceport, go!”

“John, what is the…Dammit, he just slipped back into unconsciousness.” Vornis said as he watched John stopped speaking and close his eyes, his body still working in overdrive to heal his wounds. He looked over at Kite, who nodded and grinned as if he was a young man again, taking the first right intersection he came upon.

A large sign read ‘SPACEPORT’ in bold letters, with graffiti all over it.

Off on another damn adventure.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

The Emerald Dawn slowly cut its way through the reddish-brown layer of pollution and who knows what else that cloaks most of Nar Shaddaa, desperately searching for docking bay 25. The Twi’lek in the spaceport nearly blew out the comm system when he informed Garrick Farrell he was cleared for landing. Garrick had considered answering back at least two octaves higher, with a few random swear words thrown in, but decided his landing clearance was more important than petty revenge on an overly enthusiastic Twi’lek.

Garrick took a deep breath as he started the auto landing sequence. Life had quickly gone from bad to worse to nightmarish. First he had his pod racing career ripped away from him, then he was exiled from Malastare and now he had a busted hyper drive and the only place to fix it was the Smuggler’s Moon. Perfect.

“What have I done to deserve this?!”

A side effect of traveling through the galaxy alone most of your adult life is the strange tendency of talk to yourself. You’re always there to listen and comment on things, and you always say what you want to hear; you can be your own best friend. But it does hamper your ability to have a normal social life, so Garrick did his best to keep the self-dialogue inside the Dawn.

The coating of pollution finally broke, and Garrick laid eyes on Nar Shaddaa for the first time, running a hand through his dark hair, “Holy—, it looks like Coruscant’s ugly cousin,” He hadn’t shaved since he left Malastare and a nice beard covered his face; he needed a bath and a haircut, and there had to be somewhere to eat around here. The cityscape was sprawled as far as he could see, and it did look a lot like Coruscant, the exception being a layer of filth that would never wash off, no matter how much scrubbing is done. The space port looked to be in the best shape, which was a relief, and Garrick saw dock 25 as the Dawn swung around and slowly started its decent. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the captain’s chair, for a brief moment, just to try and figure out what he was going to do when he got down there. First things first, he needed to find someone to fix his hyper drive, then he needed to purchase a weapon…Or maybe he should find a weapon first, then get busy fixing the hyper drive.

“Well, if I find a repair shop, just keep to myself, I shouldn’t need a wea—”

The Dawn suddenly shook violently. Garrick opened his eyes and jolted forward in the cockpit, staring at a fireball erupting from a building, he estimated about a quarter mile away.

“Whoa!” was all he could manage to say. How was he supposed to react to something like that? Should he keep his course and land here? Or was he walking right into some crazy domestic war? Or a terrorist bombing? Garrick’s pessimistic mind automatically sought a conclusion for what just happened. His eyes followed a steady column of thick black smoke soaking into an already dark sky until it was obstructed from view by Docking Bay 25. The Emerald Dawn finally came to a rest. Through the cockpit, Garrick sees two men and a Wookiee dressed in the same uniform marching toward his ship.

“Oh good, the welcoming committee,”

— — —

“Hello boys!” Garrick says, walking down the still descending entrance ramp, still dressed in his dark blue racing jumpsuit. He looked like a wreck, and he felt like one too, but that didn’t stop him from injecting a little faux happiness into his greeting.

“Stop where you are!” says a gruff looking human, whose jacket tag says “Reddis”. Reddis snaps his fingers and the other two behemoths stormed past Garrick and into the ship. He hears things being thrown around.

“What’s this about?” Garrick asks.

“Searchin’ the ship,” Reddis says.

“I can see that. What for?”

“You’re not smugglin’ nothin’, are ya?” Reddis says, with a certain smugness in his voice.

“Buddy, if I had any spice, I’d have already sold it. There isn’t any way I’d bring it here,”

Reddis gives a mockingly insulted look, “And why not, son?”

“Well,” Garrick says sarcastically, “Let’s say something like this happens. I get three slobs going through my ship, and they find my spice. Oh no! What are they going to do? Turn me in? To who?! They’d just kill me, take my spice and my ship,”

“And what make you think we’d kill ya?”

“You don’t really look like someone that would want to talk things out,”

The two searchers stomp back down the ramp, “There ain’t nothin’ worth keepin’,” the other human says, “He’s got smugglin’ compartments but there’s nothin’ in ‘em,”

“Told ya,” Garrick says, his eyes still locked on Reddis, who frowns.

“Alright, yer free to go. A word of advice though, kid. You want to keep livin’; you best keep your mouth shut next time a man in uniform is talkin’ to ya. Else you’re liable to get yourself shot,” Reddis nods to the other man and the Wookiee, who growls at Garrick, making him jump back. Maybe I will get that weapon after all, Garrick thinks.

— — —

Garrick stepped into a tiny repair shop, just outside the spaceport. A Rodian sat behind the counter, completely absorbed by the small blaster pistol he was repairing, so much so, he didn’t notice Garrick standing in front of him for three minutes. Garrick cleared his throat. The Rodian dropped his tool and glared.

“I need a hyper drive repaired,”

The Rodian turns his attention back to the pistol, “Don’t we all,”

“I’m serious, Rodian, I need one fixed as soon as possible,”

“How big’s the ship?” the Rodian says, without looking up.

“Medium,”

“1000 credits,”

The pit of Garrick’s stomach falls out. He glanced at the credits in his hand, every credit he had left, “All I have is 820,”

“Don’t know what to tell you then,”

“How do you know it’s that much? You haven’t even seen it yet! It could just be a loose coupling or something,”

“Then why don’t you fix it yourself?”

“Because I don’t know anything about hyper drives!” Garrick was getting impatient. And impatience wasn't going to get him off this rock.

“Okay, I’ll take a look and let you know. You have a comlink?” When Garrick shakes his head, the Rodian hands him an old C1 comlink, “It’s old, but it still works. I’ll call you once I have an estimate,”

Garrick exhales a sigh of relief, “Thanks,” he takes the comlink and turns toward the door, but stops, “You know where I can find a weapon?”  Without looking up, the Rodian points to the left, the direction of the explosion.

Re: In the Shadow of the Black Sun

The director of <I>Mal'fey Shipping and Trade</i> was nodding off in his chair, his office lit only by the bluish glow of the primary status display. With his shoes off and the top two fasteners of his spidersilk blouse unbuttoned, he looked like an old bachelor who had fallen asleep in front of the holo.

"My Vigo?"

<img src="http://home.earthlink.net/~zolanhunter/images/Tarsk6.jpg" align=left>
Tarsk's eyes snapped open and found the face of his bodyguard, Rawn, his key majordomo of Black Sun. "Yes?"

"Vigo, you said you wanted to be notified immediately," he said. "We have a tracking update on the thieves who have stolen the Andris on Nar Shaddaa. The bounty hunter has encountered them."

"Oh? Tell me." The Bothan's eyes widened.

"The bounty hunter had reached one of them, who we have identified as your lost experiment, Johnathan Claw," Rawn said, turning and pointing a controller at the display. "He engaged him and attempted to apprehend the subject."

"I <I>knew</I> that kriffing son of a Murglak was involved with those schuttas," said Tarsk, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes. "Well? Was he successful? Did we capture him?"

Rawn frowned. "As you can see from the helmet's feed, we are not sure. But from witnesses at the scene reported by the Hutt Syndicate's men, there was a massive explosion at the location where our hunter encountered Claw."

"So you assume Claw is dead then? Did our bounty hunter survive?" Tarsk continued.

"That is what it seems like, my Vigo," Rawn slowly nodded. "As far as our hunter, he lives. He escaped engaging his jetpack."

Tarsk rocked back in his chair. "So we now have our little failed experiment involved with them," he mused. "I just hope he really is dead. I want our bounty hunter to return to the scene and verify this is the case. If so, he will be paid. If he is not, what assets do we have in the area?"

"There are a few Black Sun safehouses that our agents can be dispatched to access, and a few local assassins that we can hire." Rawn's claws drummed on the polished desk. "Unfortunately, the deal with Dracon Cor has fallen through, so we have no bounty hunters to hire immediately."

"Let's take a look," Tarsk said, gesturing at the display. "We may have to call in a few favors to some of our contacts on Nar Shaddaa. Perhaps Ivaan in the Lower City can see about our plight?"

"Yes, my Vigo– I think we can probably arrange a timely meeting via encrypted transmission." The Barabel glared to him. "Tarsk, are you sure you want to use this contact? I can head down there and deal with this personally with a small army of mercs. I can arrange it to be quiet. Already, I am hearing news about a slave ring being busted on Nar Shaddaa. No reason to have Black Sun's business escalated for the public to know."

"Let us see what Ivaan can offer," Tarsk said firmly. "If he can offer a way to have our quarry captured and the Andris returned then I want to see about it first. The last thing I want is another shoot-out and explosions–" He sighed. "If all fails, then yes, you will personally see to this and assemble our best agents for a retrieval team."

"As you wish. For now, I will see about contacting the bounty hunter again and relaying your orders to him to search for Claw– or his remains." The Barabel gave a toothy smile.

"Make sure he is thorough," said Tarsk. "If we find out if he is alive, we can see about using him to lead to his friends. So let's be creative, Rawn, and figure out what else we can do from here to shift the odds."