Faction Where All Stars End (The Scar Worlds)

[Sly Chance]

STARS' END CANTINA
MEK-SHA

THE SCAR WORLDS

"I prefer to work alone. No offense."

Captain Kyros leered at the motley assortment of outlaw scum assembled together at one table. In any other cantina their gathering might have seemed suspicious but this was the Stars' End where pirate gangs bumped elbows with Jedi monks and everyone kept an uneasy peace. Things felt even more crowded out on the edge of nowhere than usual. Earlier some locals had nearly come to blows with a crew of Tion Union radicals. According to the local information broker they were on Mek-Sha looking to purchase heavy weapons for a growing insurgency movement back in their home cluster.

"I'm afraid my benefactor insists," the ebon cowled figure raised a thin hand, "For this inconvenience and your professional discretion we are prepared to compensate each of you...most handsomely."

A few tables over laughter interrupted their negotiation. Sly glared at the gathering of Ossus Initiative volunteers just recently arrived. After escorting a refugee convoy of Scar World survivors to the station Captain Drake and his comrades were loudly exchanging a few tall tales about each of their efforts in thwarting some pirate attack. Shouts could be heard outside the bar from a few scav guilds clashing with station muscle over docking rights. Even more commotion from a high stakes sabacc game in back drowned everything else out once things got heated. When the duros smuggler tilted his wide brimmed hat crimson eyes burned through all these distractions.

"What's the cargo?" he asked.

With sleight of hand the shrouded humanoid produced a glittering red crystal gemstone. He inhaled sharply. More precious these days than aurodium or even spice. Kyber. Even a small cache of the Force attuned energy source was worth a fortune in credits on the black market. They were also extremely dangerous to simply possess. Sly finished his drink.

"Reckon my price just went up."

• Outlaws from across the Scar Worlds are recruited to smuggle a cache of corrupted kyber crystals into the Core Worlds. Someone has tipped off the Haxion Brood so retrieving the cargo from a nearby docking bay and escaping the station might not be as easy as it sounds.

• After another successful mission escorting desperate refugees to Mek-Sha the Ossus Initiative decides to enjoy some well earned shore leave. Share a few exaggerated stories about that last pirate attack and try not to make any trouble with the locals.

• Word on the station is the Tion Union is hanging out at Stars' End and they're looking to buy some guns. Whether you're motivated by profit or idealism, perhaps there's a deal to be made here.

Spoiler: Scar Worlds Tag List

Ariel Yvarro Asha Mataya Coren Starchaser Elisea Apollodor Jared Starchaser Jerek Zenduu Jorah zos Darnus Kaia Starchaser Marakai Al'Orren Junker Jonn Krek Libera
Mishel Kryze Nahyra Akull Nylea Apollodor Vhondryl Gallaer Yula Perl Calliona Halvorsen Irilan Chohn Peyton Steele Phoenix Edorath Ria Misrani

 

[Ariel Yvarro]

MEK-SHA

​

The array of wedged and triangle-shaped vessels that hung around the void that surrounded Mek-Sha would have surely raised a red flag for some, but out here in this desolate waste of space. There would be few who cared enough to make anything of it. The vessels were known as the Mountbatten Expedition a group that chartered itself after the more recent incarnation of the First Order had fallen. The lead vessel, an aging Resurgent refit known as the Vanguard led the contingent of several hospital, scientific, and assault ships the latter were on loan to Ariel by her mother to ensure the safety of the civilians. This included the prototype Grierson, as well as a few Berceys, Blackwells, Steadfasts, and the several other vessels from the back end of Primo Victorian's stock. ​

​

Stock that was well overdue for an upgrade and modernization but had thus far been neglected in favor of other projects. It mattered not, they would have their use as the roving humanitarian expedition had neared its target. Although the last time that Ariel was out here it was with the First Order with the aim to aid those who needed it most. Here she was again, helping those who needed to be helped - those impacted by the Brynadul and of course, the Third Imperial Civil War. Stability was far and few between in a region of the galaxy that once knew it as well as any other part but now no longer. ​

​

Ariel opted for a simpler look this far out of Dosuun, "Apollodor, check to see where we can find medical supplies, Gallear I trust you'll figure out where to restock our ammunition. Sun-Shin, see if you can't find navigational and tactical maps for this region. Corde and I will check for any intelligence and rumors to see where we're needed."​

​

Her senior officers knew their assignments and were soon dismissed to carry them out, along for the ride they picked up a few Imperial groups, such as members from the Imperial Society of Halm, Keskin's First Imperial League, and the Order of Taloraan Imperials. Each one wanted nothing to do with their current government but also opposed the current grandstanding within the New Imperial Order and how they now turned to each other as the late now surely antiquated Galactic Empire (the original of mythical standing) soon after its Emperor was killed. ​

​

By groups, each of these officers and crewmen would be given their shore leave, liberties for the day.​

​

Once her offers had disbursed, it was simply Rowan Cordé and Ariel standing there in a hive of scum and villainy, "I know where to find all the hotspots near Dosuun. I'm a little lost out here, got any ideas?" She asked quietly, her shoulders relaxed, and hair pulled back up into a bun that hung haphazardly for its life. They stood somewhere between what looked to pass for a commercial area and a residential one, at least around here. ​

​

​

Atlas Drake | Kaia Starchaser | Yula Perl | Nylea Apollodor | Jerek Zenduu | Peyton Steele | Kurayami Bloodborn | Phoenix Edorath | Jorah zos Darnus | Junker Jonn | et all Scar Worlds​

 

[Yula Perl]

"I'm tellin ya, I fought…a whole horde of em. Beat them Bryn bastards back with nothin' but a broken saber hilt an…an one hand tied behind my back!"

Swinging her arms wide for effect, some of the ale in the Zeltron's mug had sloshed onto the Zabrak spacer beside her.

"Oops-"

At the bar, Yula had been bragging about her involvement in recapturing Nar Kreeta from the Bryn'adul to a small crew of spacers who were half-listening at best. While she had been entrenched in heavy combat during the Silver Jedi's siege in an effort to retake the planet, she was but one of many. It really had been a coming together of allies—the Silver Jedi, New Jedi Order, and Mandalorians banding together in fighting to the core of an underground facility.

In the end, they had won the day by working together, and Yula had not singlehandedly KO'd a legion of Bryn'adul warriors with multiple handicaps.

But no one here knew that.

"Uh-huh." The Zabrak dabbed at his shirt, distracted by the minor annoyance.

"It's—hurrp—true," She insisted with a belch.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

STARS' END CANTINA

​

"That so, Perl?" Questioned Mishel as she sauntered into the Star's End, the cantina was about as seedy as it got around these parts. Her lightsaber hung from her belt and could be seen with some ease as it glinted in the bright and dim lights of Stars' End. It was easy to tell the Gambler's Den and the sleezy bar, Mishel patted Yula on the back and saddled up beside her. "Tell me, the great details of it all probie." She emphasized the new pet name with a smile, the kind of smile that begged, no, dared Yula or anyone else to challenge her. "I'll take the Darmanda Twist, on the rocks, double on whatever passes for potato water around these parts."

She got a look around and spotted Sly Chance someone she got to know a little more on the recent excursion to Ossus. Mishel took her drink as it was so handed to her with disdain, she looked down over toward the Zabrak. "No please, continue to stare at me with that dumbfounded look on your face, I promise you'll still have it for another minute or two." Mishel took a swift drink of the Darmanda Twist, the sort of drink that was citrusy, and if this were a classier joint it'd pass for a martini. The vermouth was always a good touch, sadly all she got here was tonic water and quadruple the usual vodka.

"Right, let's go with the Grogu instead."

It was as if she had said a magic word because in a quick fashion her drink was made and handed to her without as much disdain. Mishel merely brought the glass up to her nose and got a whiff, "okay this tells me that this is going to be leagues better than whatever that was."

The rewashed and recycled air of the cantina, the sound of it being rewashed and recycled could be heard just as it could be smelled carrying with it the scent of foul industry while doing so. Thankfully this Grogu drink would not only be fruity enough but amazing enough to drink and taste. "Wow, where's Bloodborn and Centaris when you need'em, this might actually float up to their standards."

Mishel double-checked for what kind of currency was paid here and doubled up on the price of her drinks. She then drew her personal comm, and hailed Marakai Al'Orren and Alessandra Creed . The light-side enthusiast texted them both. Sleeziest joint around I think, but the fancy drinks are actually kinda good."

Yula Perl ​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Kurayami had heard that there were possibilities of a well paying job, a good drink, and swapping some interesting stories with the local lowlifes in this fine establishment on Mek-Sha. The Bulwark-class needed a bit of TLC, as it always seemed to and at least here he could get some parts delivered and get the ship worked on in an out of the way place. That would be nice. Or so he thought...oh how wrong he was. over ten minutes was spent arguing over if he had actually paid his docking fee and if he did how long he was planning on waiting for parts. The Corellian could do naught but slam his head into the palm of his hand to keep himself from ending up on the wrong side of the law within five minutes of landing. Once all this was settled finally and he was on his way to the cantina, he was in a less than stellar mood.

Usually he would pay close attention to the flow of the Force and take special note of any signatures he recognized, but as of the moment he was nearly literally seeing red and as such not paying nearly as close of attention as he should have been to such things. He was dressed the same as he had been on the heist on Kamino, black slacks with first class bloodstripes, a light grey t-shirt, faded squadron jacket, combat boots, and a TIE inspired flight helmet. In a sensor-proofed pouch on the left side of his belt was a a light saber and in holsters on either hip a pair of DE-10 blaster pistols. He pushed his way through the crowd absentmindedly, until almost colliding head on with Ariel Yvarro, which would have been obvious had Kurayami been paying any modicum of attention to his surroundings. As it stood he just muttered something that resembled an apology and continued on his way to the cantina.

While outwardly Kurayami was far more collected when he entered the cantina, anyone attuned to the Force would immediately pick up on the annoyance rolling off the man in waves as he looked around for a place to sit. As he was calming himself down he reached into his jacket and pulled out the flask, taking a long draught of the namana nectar within, taking a deep breath before capping it and placing it back in the inner pocket as he spotted Mishel Kryze at a table with a few others whom he was unfamiliar with. OH well, time to try and make new friends. Sidling up to the table he pulled a chair over with the Force and glanced over to Mishel.

"Been a bit Mishel. Whatcha drinkin'? Also looks like you got some new friends. So you want to introduce them to me or just let them slowly put two and two together to figure out who I am?"

Yula Perl

 

[Elisea Apollodor]

​

Nylea Apollodor wasn't too far from her, Elisea held out her hand and waited. "You heard the boss, medical supplies, although - I'm sure we could head over this way and find what passes for shopping, what do you think?" The Avalonian threaded her fingers between Nylea's, Mek-Sha definitely wasn't anywhere she wanted to stay but with stops far and few between they took whatever opportunities presented themselves. She was dressed neatly, as much as one could be, say the least. A blaster of an undisclosed type in a holster that Elisea had become far too comfortable in wearing. ​

​

Slugfall where the cantinas were, or Brzo's where the shops were. Either way, Elisea got as close to Nylea as she could. It had been a long time since Nylea had proposed that night during the Coronation Ball. And, here they were so far from the place they had come to call home. The Vanguard was a nice ship, and the Grierson had lovely quarters if you were a resident. The Mountbatten Expedition had become more like a flotilla at first it was all Imperial ships but she figured it wouldn't be long before non-Imperial ships became more permanent. ​

​

"I'm okay if we wait on food, I don't know that I necessarily trust the vendors here, but the reviews on the holo say there's some amazing street food here, so I will leave it up to you."​

​

Nylea Apollodor ​

 

[Peyton Steele]

It was different being part of a group on the edge again. She followed Starchaser, pretty religiously, almost as if he was some prophet for the light, but he was busy trying to protect the Jedi, and to preserve what gains they have made. It was the time for others to shine, the next generation of Starchasers had two, plus the Perlchaser to bring forth Light and Hope into the galaxy. And yes, Peyton knew a lot about most things, she was an infobroker during the Outer Rim days. Now, with her new found gifts, she wanted to do what she could to help people.

Hence following Drake to the Scar Worlds.

It brought her to Mek-Sha, her and her plot Cuan had landed a few days ago and both started putting out feelers for work. Peyton would find and secure the job, provide a gunhand, and Cuan would provide a ship.

"No Cuan, I don't think we're going to find anything easy. Its not the Coalition… or the Planets Alliance." She shook her head and smirked. Dressed in black, with her forest leather jacket on the top, she was looking enough like a spacer, but the mark of Pamarthe was on her, on her skin, with the slight look of scales and iridescence on parts of her skin.

Her Sullustan teammate, one who flew with Starchaser himself and now found himself working with her on a few jobs, a wheelman of sorts, nodded and spoke, dewflaps flapping.

"Fine, go get a drink. I'll do the talking." As she moved, she all but was taken out by Yula's arm swinging. So, this really had to be the place.

"I remember that, she pulled me out of a bunker. Hard to take down Bryn when you're a spy, after all!" She nodded to the Zabrak.


Yula Perl

 

[Kaleleon]

​

I was sorely out of place.

My baby-face appearance was not helping either. In a place where "scum and villainy" thrived, nobody ever checked identification. Yet, every time I asked for a drink, I was asked for my age because of the baby-face alone. I was nearly upset at that fact. I have fought against Sith Masters, Brynadul, Survived the destruction of a planet, and lost friends and family along the way. Yet I had to be stopped and asked to get ONE drink.

Surprisingly, I liked my liquor stout. Growing up on a farm, you had to do what you needed in order to make a couple credits. If that meant making White Lighting, then so be it. Others called it "moonshine" or "Firewater." It was about the cheapest way for my father to get liquor other than going into town to get the Imported stuff that was expensive. Growing up on drinking White Lighting made one's palette rather stout.

Just for the hell of it, I wanted to try a very strong drink. Something I knew would knock me to the ground. Watching as a Kri'gee glass was placed in front of me on the bar. Traditionally a Mandalorian liquor, it was known to have painful aftereffects. You either drank it to get sloshed beyond the stars themselves, or because you had something to prove. Typically. For me? I wanted something I knew was going to be strong, and would make me "grow hair on my sack like a man," as my father used to say. I still remember his laughing when I tried Moonshine for the first time.

Looking over to Yula who was already headed down the path of libations being her word for "yes" Part of me wanted to see just how much of a Zeltron she was. I mean, they could drink quite a bit. Like, rumors of some drinking triple that of a human. However, I don't think I wanted to have my head blow up tomorrow morning. Instead, I opted to just take the drink to my lips. Letting the cool glass and cold drink hit me, followed with a burning fire of any other kind of alcohol. It was thin, and dry, but had a hint of various wheats. Typical ale taste.

Another swig went down as I turned around to have my back facing the bar. I looked around as I held the glass in my hand. Seeing so many people about that were here for various reasons. Part of me wanted to learn more about whoever was here. Considering I was still new to many of these people here, I would for now, just bide my time until I wouldn't interrupt a conversation, or deal with someone who wasn't... losing their inhibition's.

Peyton Steele Yula Perl Elisea Apollodor Kurayami Bloodborn Mishel Kryze Ariel Yvarro Sly Chance

 

[The Fool]

BLOOD DIAMOND
ADVENTURES IN THE OUTRIM vol. I
Issue #1 w/ Trajan Fett
sympathy for the devil​

---

// CONTRACT //
// BLOOD DIAMOND //

• Retrieve crystal cache
• Cultist scalps [BONUS PAY]

The door to the cantina dramatically opens and from the thick cigar smog emerge two rather large men dressed to kill. Literally. One's a buckethead but we don't care about this mute idiot. It's the guy taking the first step in who's the hero of this story. Military-grade sabatons, ragged spacer leathers that have seen better days, a manly black harness with suspenders, yadda yadda but look at that pauldron. Blue, scratched enough till it's almost gray, with the golden starbird faintly painted on it. That tells you everything you need to know.

He's a Hero. The Hero formerly known as Captain Starbird (alias used by three people including his mom).

And like every hero when the first twi'lek lady of the night walks up to him, she gets socked till she sees the number of stars The Fool's liberated. After all, the Come Right Inn VIP card from Shili is sticking out from a pocket and it means loyalty.

And that scattergun? It means business.

Hero's business, of course, pays. That's the beauty of free enterprise, the bedrock of the Core, of civilization. It's what he's fought for.

The duo approaches the closest table to the door and his valiant shadow looms over its patrons.

"Smells like Bith in here." he growls through a grin, cigar stuck in between his teeth and magically not falling when he's talking.

The patrons - Bith pals - glance at each other and they're off, vacating the table for the two headhunt-- protagonist and his beskar-clad sidekick.

"Yeah, that's right, scram--yagh!" the cackle turns into a tuberculosis choke, "ass-for-a-head looking freaks--yagh!"

The Fool sits down, legs spread like he owns the place, and tells his sidekick to do his job, "Mandy, you wanna use that fob you've got on you? Work for that pay, damn it."

Sly Chance

 

[Trajan Fett]

AURODIUM SWORD
OPERATION BLOOD DIAMOND
FT. ' The Fool ' AND 'THE BUCKETHEAD'
863624

NOWHERE TO RUN
​

Wasn't his first choice of hunting partner, that was for sure. The Fool was a killer though. They went back a decent ways, Mereel part of the 'Oathsworn' Mandalorian task force working in tandem with the Wolfpack in New Adasta during the thick of the Third Imperial Civil War a few years about. Now here they were, killing for coin over country.

Clad in the refurbished Beskar'gam of his late guardian, Trajan Kurze, Volker all but walked as a revenant in the image of the known Mandalorian hunter and killer. But it was hardly the name that mattered, it was the armor, the image. When a Mandalorian entered a cantina, 99 times out of 100, they weren't here to lean back with a woman on their lap and a drink in their hand.

They were here to cause trouble. To spill blood.

Volker was no different. Even if ol Starbird here made that more obvious than he ever could have.

He stood with his disruptor comfortably cradled in his arms, regarding the weapon as the nigh religious effigy that Mandalorians typically tended to do. Soon as The Fool piped up, he knew the demeanor of the establishment was immediately shifted against them.

All well and good, meant less talking for him.

<"I don't wanna hear it after we flew here on my boat while you rolled cigarra and played the same three 'Core Worlds War Time Classics' on repeat. ."> Volker retorted as he sat down in the booth laying his disruptor across his lap as he reached for the tracking fob nestled within one of several pouches on the utility belt strewn across his Beskar cuirass.

He thumbs the activation switch and the fob begins to hone in on the tracker, linked to the very individual opposite of Sly Chance .

He glanced the way of the aptly named Fool and nodded his helmet in the direction of the pair.

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Sly Chance The Fool Trajan Fett
​

More often than not when a 'dark-cloaked individual' was speaking this vaguely... well. Three out of five times they were Sith. The fact they were interested in Kyber Crystals?

Four out of five.

But the business they were meant that asking questions was the surest way to get yourself shot in the back of your head. Instead Nikos remained quiet and listened to the short back-and-forth between Sly and the representative. It would be one hell of a pay day, that's for sure. Enough cash flowing in they could make some much needed repairs on the Vengeance.

"While I don't give a chit about working with others-" A glance ran past the rest of the crowd. "-well, most of them." Which invited a few chuckles, some frowns and a mixed bag of emotions from a handful. "But something tells me this ain't gonna be a 'pick-up-and-deliver'-kind of job. Or you wouldn't be asking for a whole host of pirates and other goo, excuse my Huttese, to get the package. So come out with it... what's the complication that requires this much firepower?"

There was a moment of silence there.

Presumably the representative was wondering if he could get away with Force Lightning a fool in the middle of the assembly. Luckily for Nikos it went his way.

"The shipment is inside a cargo bay, the location is on this disk. But... the Haxion Brood has caught wind of it as well."

An ah there. "So, it's not just a shipment delivery. We are also going to have cultists on our back the entire time. Probably will be spilling enough Brood blood to put a target on our back for the whole year. Well." And Nikos slapped Sly on the shoulder. "It's all yours, Kyros. Enjoy." Notably the pirate himself didn't stand up, neither did his crew.

A few did however and shuffled away after excusing themselves.

Nikos didn't blame them.

Sadly he had bills to pay.

 

[Atlas Drake]

STARS' END CANTINA
MEK-SHA
THE SCAR WORLDS
Yula Perl Peyton Steele Mishel Kryze Kaleleon Kurayami Bloodborn

"No no, its true!" Drake loudly agreed with Yula and Peyton even though he'd never even been on Nar Kreeta, "Saw the whole thing myself."

He finished another drink bringing fresh color into the survey captain's cheeks. After weeks living rough out in the Scar Worlds even stale recycled air seemed like comparative luxury. After all he wasn't inhaling volcanic air through a rebreather or trapped within the confines of his starship. With the refugees sheltering under the safety of Mek-Sha's shield wall he could finally relax.

"Anyway where was I?" he turned back to the trio of twi'lek girls, "Oh yeah! Jerek Zenduu , pirate bane! There I was, blaze cutlass against my throat on the bridge of the raider cruiser..."

Atlas elaborated on a daring and entirely fictitious rescue which painted young Jerek as a swashbuckling hero straight out of the holofilms. In some misguided form of altruism the captain seemed determined to make an eligible bachelor of him. Already he'd obtained several comlink frequencies on the Jedi's behalf.

"Hey kid!" the spacer glanced over at Kale after the next round, "You're a Jedi, right? So the Force...you know, the Force? What is it?"

Several groans and rolled eyes went unnoticed. Apparently this wasn't the first time Drake had asked such a question.

 

[Junker Jonn]

​

"No, I heard you the first twelve times," the Kubaz said, a nasally sigh escaping his long snout. His name was Jonn zok Jievo, better known in these parts as Junker Jonn, and it was his deeply unenviable task to hold back this mined-out scrapheap of a station from both physical and social collapse. "And I get it. I do. It's a respect thing; nobody docks in Boss Kroob's territory without getting his permission first. And normally these fine gentlemen wouldn't have. The Tsissa Guild has been good about that kind of thing. But I believe them when they say they didn't have time for niceties on this run. If they hadn't delivered those air scrubbers when they did-"

"Air scrubbers for the Brubbs," one of Kroob's goons interrupted, "not for us. Did we get any air scrubbers from that run, boys?" The four of them, all Targonnians, clacked their beaks and shook their heads, their feathers quite literally ruffled. "Because your air scrubbers work!" retorted one of the Brubbs, thick-necked reptillians who dominated the Tsissa Scav Guild. "You didn't need any, but in our quarter bad air was building up! Our hatchlings were dying! We didn't have time to do the whimpering and groveling you Targonnians are so good at. We were on our way back to pay for docking rights, but by then you'd already-"

"We don't need to rehash what anyone did," Junker cut in, suppressing another sigh. "We've gone around and around on this. Both of your crews broke protocol." It was Boss Kroob's crew, however, that had taken it too far. The Tsissa Guild had returned to their ship, parked without paying at one of Kroob's berths, to find it totally gutted, everything worth selling pried out of it. That had been their livelihood, their way of securing the food, water, and parts that kept the station's Brubb community - a small enclave of survivors from the Bryn'adul genocide, just like Kroob and his Targonnians - from dying out. "Their response was blatantly excessive!" the Brubb argued.

Junker agreed, but the delicate politics of the station prevented him from openly saying so. He groaned internally.

Before he'd somehow ended up on the ruling council of Mek-sha, making decisions that would affect the futures of two dozen near-extinct species, Jonn had been a solitary sort. He'd left the tight-knit family of his nest on Kubindi and traveled the galaxy as a starship mechanic, keeping to himself and taking in the wonders of the galaxy all on his own. He remembered those days fondly, that time when he had been responsible for no one but himself. But when his people's homeworld had been destroyed by the Bryn'adul, like so many others, he had come back to this blighted region of space to try to help. It was out of guilt, mostly, for not having been there.

Even though it wouldn't have changed anything. Even though it would've added him to the countless dead.

When he'd come back to help what was left of his people find a new home, Jonn had suddenly risen to a position of leadership simply because there was no one else to do it. He'd never sought to be in charge of anything, but when he'd shown up and started actually getting things done, people had begun to look to him to tell them what they should do. He had become Junker Jonn, running the salvaging and maintenance operations that kept Mek-sha from completely wearing out. It was no small task on an asteroid station that was a good five thousand years old, but he didn't mind that part. He'd never yet met a machine he couldn't coax some value out of.

It was the endless politics of countless desperate people in close proximity that was driving him mad.

"You both violated protocol," the Kubaz reiterated, "but the amount of credits involved in each infraction wasn't equal. Boss Kroob will pay the Tsissa Guild the market value of the stripped parts, minus the docking fee, and a further 25% of the fee as a non-payment penalty." Both the Targonnian and the Brubb immediately began to protest, shrill avian squawks clashing with sibilant reptillian hisses, until one of the hulking Houk mercenaries that Junker had wisely brought with him slammed the butt of his vibro-pike loudly against the ground. The argument stopped instantly; both representatives had seen what happened to people who made the mercs angry.

Legends still circulated of the "troublemaker-throwing contest" they'd had held at the edge of the station's shield.

"That's my judgement," Junker told them. "You can appeal it to the full council if you want. But if I hear about any retaliation tonight, I'm slashing the offender's water ration by half, and you can explain to your thirsty families why revenge was worth it." He'd do it, too. Jonn wasn't a violent man; he'd never raised a hand to another person in anger, let alone fired a blaster or swung a vibroblade. But he had grown more callous since becoming one of Mek-sha's leaders. There was never enough of anything to go around, and if people decided to be disruptive to the station's operations, he would make up the shortage by making an example out of them.

The Targonnians and Brubbs departed in opposite directions, grumbling what sounded suspiciously like threats or particularly dark curses on both their rivals and on Junker himself. The scav captain didn't let it bother him. "Thanks, you two," he told the Houk and the Glottalphib who'd accompanied him, mostly just to hold their oversized weapons and look menacing. "Go get yourselves a drink or two on me. I have a tab open." For his part, the Kubaz also turned and headed into the Stars' End Cantina. With what would hopefully be his most unpleasant meeting of the day out of the way, he was moving on to what would hopefully be his most profitable.

Rumor had it that, out in the Tion Hegemony, some group of rebels had decided it was time to overthrow the Sith-built regime that was still lingering after the wider Sith Empire's fall. Junker didn't have the time or the inclination to care about other people's wars, but this one might actually be good for Mek-sha. They were the closest major shadowport to the Tion Cluster, and that meant they were the easiest source of illegal arms for the rebels. Someone had been putting out feelers about buying guns on Mek-sha, and Junker had responded favorably. His crew had stripped plenty of old but serviceable weapons out of the battlefields of Sith and Bryn space.

So the scav captain ordered a drink and sat at a corner table, watching the bar, waiting to see who showed.

 

[Krek Libera]

STAR'S END CANTINA
MEK-SHA
THE SCAR WORLDS
| OPEN |

The pain in her stomach made it difficult to think straight, but her instincts told her she needed to find someplace safe. She'd hoped that she'd have found a new home for the hive by now. The hive seemed to have no intention to wait for what she wanted.

The pain intensified again, so much so that the Twon Ketee nearly doubled over in the street. She didn't know what to call it -- she didn't have access to many texts about the hive, nor similar processes in other species. But it hurt. And she knew her spawn were coming.

She managed to flee to an obscured alleyway by a cantina. There was a man smoking out by a back door, but upon seeing the writhing giant he fled back inside. She went to the end and sat down, growling and mewling, only guided by instincts and pain, and then...

The first emerged, large enough to be held in both hands, covered in a sticky, sinewy substance. Another followed, and that was enough. For some time she laid on the ground, clutching the eggs in her arms -- gently, as though a single crack might break them, even though she knew the shells were nearly as strong as her armor.

Slowly she overcame the exhaustion and pain. The only thing on her mind now was to provide for her children. She fastened the eggs high up against the alleyway's wall, then stumbled to the cantina's entrance.

Star's End Cantina. She was sure it was clever, in some way, but she didn't have the time. She bent low to enter, then straightened once the ceiling was higher. The inside was even more chaotic than the streets, and she had no idea how to navigate the place.

"I require food," she announced loudly.

 

[Inanna Harth]

Miri shined a flashlight on the wall, revealing a mass of slimy, fleshy gunk affixed to the bricks.

"Well, what is it?" The cop standing next to her asked, pinching his nose between two gloved fingers. The stuff gave off a pungent aroma, a mix of alien blood and scent markers.

"The funk of forty thousand years," Miri croaked in her best horror movie announcer voice. Flicking her flashlight off, she shrugged. "If I had to guess, it looks like a clutch of eggs."

"Eggs?" The cop retched.

"Yes. Eggs." She turned toward the other police officer who had arrived on the scene. "I suggest you establish a perimeter. You don't want people wandering into this alley when the mother comes back."

Krek Libera​

 

[Xeykard]

Open | probably Yula Perl Kurayami Bloodborn Nylea Apollodor Peyton Steele Kaleleon Inanna Harth Mishel Kryze
​

Xeykard stooped low as he walked down the street, but even in such posture and cloaked garb he still felt like he stood out. Who was watching? Who might recognize him? Mek-Sha was diverse, and everyone seemed to mind their own business, but that was the kind of environment perfect for spies and informants. Anyone could blend in here. Except for him, or so he felt.

His gait was still awkward, courtesy of the poor cybernetic job done after having his legs severed on Tandun III; his breath was raspy from the wounds he suffered in his escape. For the first time in a long time, he needed help.

In time he arrived at the Star's End Cantina and ducked inside, squeezing past some monster who stood by the entrance. The cantina smelled of cigarras and alcohol, but the thing that caught his senses immediately was the noxious odor of the Light. Jedi were here.

He forced his presence down, but the pain that once would've fueled him now felt like a detriment to his concentration. He shuffled across the room to get to the bar, and eased himself into a chair. With a weak wave he called over the bartender. The Ithorian slid over to him.

"What can I getcha?"

Xeykard moved slowly to pull out a few credits. "Water, and information.

"I've heard a few Sith Legionnaires still frequent Mek-Sha, and I'd like to know where I can find them."

 

[Inanna Harth]

Leaving the police to handle the, uh, issue in the alleyway, Miri had a look around. There were plenty of people around for her to question, including a few somewhat familiar faces that seemed drawn toward a nearby cantina. But before she could start inquiring about the eggs, she caught a whiff of something Dark and brooding.

Her gaze was drawn toward a big reptilian alien wrapped in a cloak. As she focused on him, the Dark Side aura abruptly vanished. He'd probably realized there were Jedi afoot and decided to mask his presence. The lizard then disappeared into the cantina.

She waited about a minute before following him inside. He was seated at the bar. Glancing around at the various witnesses to what she was about to do, she carefully plotted her approach. Get in, get out.

“Excuse me, sir,” Miri interrupted the conversation between him and the bartender, as if she were merely trying to squeeze past his bulky frame—and ignited her lightsaber. The violet blade slashed upward toward his elbows, attempting to (literally) disarm the alien.

Mostly Xeykard but also Yula Perl Atlas Drake Kurayami Bloodborn Elisea Apollodor Peyton Steele Mishel Kryze Kaleleon​

 

[Nash Darklighter]

Sly Chance Nikos Buccheri The Fool Trajan Fett​

Mek-sha is unlike anything I’ve seen. I haven’t seen a lot since I left Tatooine, but this place is far out. The air here in the Star’s End Cantina is thick with smoke, both from the mouths of the many smokers and from the vents. Someone’s air scrubber ain’t working too well. Bosco has already done his usual thing of disappearing with a bright-eyed client who thinks he’s about to hire the best crew this side of the Alliance. The poor guy’s actually about to hire the Easy Riders. Jubl and I have come for some R&R, but we need to keep on our toes a bit. There’s been word of something big going down. Beyond rumours I’ve heard nothing.

“I’ll start with a water.” I say to the bartender. He glares at me.

“We don’t serve water.” he hisses in his reptilian accent,

“But uh… those fellas over there are drinking water.” I pointed to a group of other humans a ways down the long bar, sure as shit drinking water.

“You gotta live here to get your water ration. I can tell you don’t live here.”

“Oh.. oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“You’re ordering water at a bar.”

Touché.

“I’ll… have a beer then.” the bartender obliges my request and cracks open a room-temperature beer from the shelf behind him. I nod and take my sad drink. I doesn’t take me long to see Jubl on the other side of the Cantina. The stocky Weequay brute towers over most of the other humanoids. Our eyes meet and he nods. I’m not entirely sure what he’s doing, but he’s always cool about it. If something does end up of going down, I’m glad his gaffi stick is on my side.

I sip away at my warm, expectedly underwhelming beer until Bosco appears from nowhere and grabs me by the shoulder.

“C’mon, c’mon. We don’t have all day kid.” the Bothan pulls me over to a booth, and Jubl promptly joins us. He remains silent and stoic while Bosco gives me the lowdown. Even though Jubl wasn’t with him, I somehow suspect he already knows everything he needs to.

“What’d you find?”

“Lightsaber crystals my boy. We’re about to be shit rich. There isn’t a resource in the galaxy as demanded as these things. When I was a kid seeing a lightsaber was damn near impossible. Seems like everyone‘s got one now and they’re all tryna show each other they’ve got the biggest.“

“So when did the client say we pick ‘em up?”

“We don’t, per se. That wasn’t the client I spoke to. Somebody’s beaten us to the client. His name‘s Sly Kyros, I think he pulls some weight around here.“

“So… what? We rob him?” I asked half seriously. It was a possibility, but I wasn’t sure how well it would end.

“This is why I took you in. You remind me of when I was a boy.”

“You were a spy at my age.”

“I know, but I mean you have initiative. You think outside the box.” the Bothan tapped two fingers on his temple, “yes we’re gonna rob the schmuck. But it ain’t gonna be easy. Word is there a bounty on the client, big time. I have a feeling the hunters are already here. Seen the Mando?”

“Yeah I saw him.” and I seen the tough bastard he walked in with, looking like he owned this joint. I reckon if he wanted the deed to this place it wouldn’t be hard to shake out of the owner. Not with that scary mug.

“Good, watch out for him. I’ve talked to Dharma, she’s pullling the ship around to the same docking bay that this cargo is supposed to be in. IF we’re lucky, this might just work.”

“So what do we do now?” I’m getting nervous as he speaks. This sounds risky as hell. I’ve been a smuggler for less than half a year, and I might be a fast draw but I ain’t faster than a Mandalorian.

“Well… let’s just sit and see who makes a play first…”

 

[Nylea Apollodor]

"You did say it was high time to replace these old boots."

The response came with a gentle chuckle, touched by a kind of lightheartedness Nylea had not always possessed. The echani did not see much need to get herself a new pair herself, but could not deny that they had seen their best days. It simply still felt like a bit of a waste to her, somehow. Perhaps she would change her mind after trying on a new pair for size. After all, with the average distance travelled with them on a daily basis being as high as it was, comfortable footwear was not entirely a luxury.

"I am certain we have got plenty of time to handle the supplies right after that. And perhaps a bite to eat." As important as having the ability to provide aid was, being well-prepared was equally as vital. "If we cannot find any place that you trust, I can always make something at home. I would be happy to."

'Home' was perhaps a bit of a strange word to use, but the quarters the two were able to lay down their heads were as close to it as they were going to get during the expedition. Thankfully, the echani was beginning to get accustomed to the place. Not that they were going to spend much time there, considering the amount of work ahead of them.

"I do have to agree though- this place is shady."

Elisea Apollodor​

 

[Yula Perl]

Mishel Kryze | Kurayami Bloodborn | Peyton Steele | Atlas Drake | Kaleleon | Xeykard | Inanna Harth | Elisea Apollodor | Nylea Apollodor

"It IS true, Mish!" Yula insisted, indignation and inebriation playing equal parts in her response. Peyton and Drake chimed in their support, to which the Zeltron nodded vigorously. They hadn't been there, but either Yula didn't remember or she didn't care. A little of column A, a little of column B.

"Since you asked," She took a gingerly drawn-out sip from her mug, definitely not buying herself the time she needed to spin another web of embellishments. "I took out the whole hive myself. Y'know, that's where the Bryn hatch from—a hive. Damn thing was suspended over a volcano, too! An' Tathra 'imself was guardin' it!" Surprisingly, there was an element of truth to the story. Tathra was there, and she had attempted to rappel her way to the hive, which was a compound control center suspended mid-air above a chasm. It had been an arduous battle. However, she'd fought alongside a slew of eclectic allies and hadn't faced Tathra herself. And there hadn't been any lava.

For all she knew about Bryn biology, which was nothing besides the fact that they were giant scary monsters with weird abilities, they could have very well hatched from a hive.

From Mishel's other side, someone who'd recognized the Tygaran had called for her attention. Yula peered at him curiously from behind her glass—helmet, blaster, sabers. Jedi weapons weren't looked upon favorably in the cantina, but they weren't strictly banned either.

Figure out who he was…?

"Oh, I got it—yeah, I know who ya are." Yula nodded briskly. "Yer Mishel's boyfriend!"

The tell-tale sound of a lightsaber blade igniting in the other direction caused her head to swivel, eyes snapping to the bright violet light. For a moment, sobriety sharpened her face. A young woman had drawn her saber on a large reptilian man, seated just a few spaces away. There were more Forcies at Stars End tonight than usual, which meant that someone's bravado would probably interfere with the fight soon.

The thought brought a sardonic grin to her face, and she laughed loudly.

"Little early for it, dontcha think?" Raising her mug, she waved it back and forth to signal the bartender for a refill. "Usually it's bullets or blaster fire, though." Her drink topped off, she pressed the glass to her lips and mumbled. "Nice to see some diversity in cantina violence."