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A Time Beneath the Stars

The Spacer
Writer
Feel free to join in wherever you see fit. In the bar, at the space port, driving by in a speeder. The choice is yours.

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TATOOINE





Smoke hung in the air like a blanket, thick and hazy, wafting from burning spice, deathsticks and even a few glowing Felucian cigars. A lazy melody drifted through the room, and in the far corner, atop a stage, a Pa'lowick crooned along to the sounds, adding to the buzz I already felt. A lethan twi'lek danced around the Pa'lowick, moving with such grace she seemed to be floating. The crowd was a hodge-podge of species - there was even a Belugan at the end of the bar, but we all had one thing in common.

Drugs. This 'koga ov goo', as Borjo the Hutt liked to put it, sat on the outskirts of Mos Entha, away from the glittery spaceport hubs, down a dusty winding road between a junk shop and a gun shop. 'Zarluff's Cantina,' it was called. Home to all degenerates, dust-heads and dwang shovelers. I supposed I was all three.

Borjo moved a good deal of spice through its dingy doors. Not Glitterstim - that was for richer folk - but there was ryll, tempest, and maybe a dozen other types of spice. Reds, blues, crystals, powder, you name it. And if you were in the know, the bartenders would even add a bit to your drink. Then you could drink it and smoke it. Double the high for double the debt.

But I didn't smoke my supply. I didn't need to. Between the drinks - courtesy of my business with Borjo - and the numerous beings smoking around me, I was content on contact alone. For a little while, my mind would be my own.

Silence was golden. I could attest to that.

I finished my ale, and had already laid down the credits to get another when a powerful hand gripped my shoulder.

"Kale Arkin?"​
The voice was low. Rough even, and definitely angry.

"Never heard of him." I shrugged off the hand, and took a long pull from my glass. Nothing quite beat spiced ale. I welcomed the numbness.



If I hadn't been high though, I'd have felt him coming, whoever he was. I might've even heard his thoughts. As it was, I heard nothing.



"You're lying."
He spun me around, and I turned my eyes upon almost seven feet of burly Zabrak, flanked by a pair of Ferroans and... was that another Belugan?

Hn. Two in one day. What are the odds of that?

"Borjo said you would be here," the Zabrak continued, face curling into a snarl. "How did you kill my brother, little human? You're nothing but a druggy."​
Holy Sith! His brother?! It had been years since I'd killed Sirrak. I hadn't lost any sleep over it - the slimo had deserved it. But I never expected it to catch up with me. Who knew murderous, slaving pirates had families?

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Borjo had sold me out. Without his endorsement, without his patronage... I had nothing. Nothing at all. I was a nerf without a herd.

I didn't let my panic show though. It wasn't hard. I just focused on the numbness. "Dobra chuyo dobra."

None of them had drawn a blaster. I almost laughed. What a bunch of koochoos. I pulled my gun before they could react, and let off three quick shots into the crowd. The reaction was awe-inspiring. Spacers were drawing and firing at one another before you could say 'lickmoomoo'.

The Zabrak tried to bat away my blaster, but stray shots forced him back, and I took the opportunity to drop his Belugian friend before dashing into the crowd, heading for the exit hidden behind the stage. Behind the building a dirt path lead down into the slums, before splitting off to the main road, and the massive spaceports on the other side of the city. Borjo's palace was that way too.

Over the cacophony of shouts and blaster fire, a sort of whispering swept up from the crowd. I grew angry. Restless. Excited.

Damn. The spice was already wearing off. I had to get away from Tattooine and back into space. Back into silence.

But I wanted revenge first. Borjo had sold me out. He was practically family. The last remnant of my past, the last connection to my father, and one of a handful of beings in the galaxy who even knew my name...

I was going to kill him.



__________________________________________________​
Koga ov goo - bed of scum
slimo - slime-ball
Dobra chuyo dobra - I am what I am
koochoos- idiots
lickmoomoo - dessert


___________________

VAULT

Raven sat idly in the darkest booth his eyes set on. He had been sitting there for a few hours now, listening for any hint that could set him on the trail for his enemies. That was when the gang walked in, and obviously to no good as well. The bickered with a druggy who had made this bar his resting place for the time being. This gang of low lives seemed suspicious enough. The best course of action sailed through Ravens head until he had found it. These men must know at least something about the facility Raven had woken up in just a few hours earlier. The facility was without a name, and inhabitants. Onlt a few years back Raven was killed in an explosion, but now, he has somehow awoken in an abandoned medical station, completely renewed.



Nobody seemed to notice the high pitched sound hum that was made as Raven heaed up his blaster. Standing up, he walked in the shadows over to the group. They were obviously close to a fight.



"Now, everyone here is going to shut the kriff up, before they get a blaster in the knee!" Raven screamed through his mask, with a gun pointed to the drunkard, and a gun pointed to the gang.

______________​
Vladimir

Vladimir stumbled out of the bar's hidden exit... it looked like the man hit rock bottom since last year's droid rebellion, and he had to have gotten to that point now, to be drunk off his 48 year old arse in a bar in Tattooine...

"Ugh, where the kark did my life go in that one year..."

______________​



Just before shots fired...​

___________________________________​
I twitched to grab my blaster before the Zabrak could retaliate when a voice rung out. A man had approached, with a blaster in each hand. Hn. Gun-happy much?

"Now, everyone here is going to shut th - !"

I didn't wait to hear what he had to say. To be honest, I didn't really care. I didn't like his tone, or his audacity. And what sort of of stupaannounced himself like that anyway?
I let one round loose into the crowd and another into the Belugan's chest, then I took off in a blur of motion, sprinting into the throng of angry spacers. The Belugan hadn't even hit the ground yet and I was already halfway across the room, ducking beneath errant blaster bolts as I raced to the exit. I didn't look back, but that didn't stop me from reaching back and squeezing off a couple rounds or six. My gun was set to stun, so I wasn't worried about hitting bystanders.

The Pa'lowick screeched when I rushed past him, and I almost tripped over myself when the lethan caught my eye, but I couldn't stop now. That Zabrak would definitely kill me if he caught me.

You know, eye for an eye and all that.

I dived behind the stage and threw open the exit, sprinting out into the street -

And right into the back of a short, white haired man stumbling drunkenly down the road. Our meeting was quick, loud, and painful.

"Uba wermo!" I exclaimed as I rolled to my feet, wincing all the while. I'd hit my head pretty hard. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to properly express my anger and annoyance, so I settled for a scathing glare that quickly melted to panic as the buzz from the spice grew weaker and weaker, and the thoughts and feelings trickling from the pub and the surrounding locale steadily grew from a stream to a river.

Damn it all to hell. As soon as I was able, I was going to take a hit. I needed the numbness back. "Run away old man. Trouble's coming." Then I backed up from the door, and took aim. Je mo hoohah. Me or them.

But I wasn't going to run.



_______________________________
stupa - fool

uba wermo - you stupid person/idiot/worm

je mo hooha - me or them



______________________________​
Vladimir

Vladimir then fell and caught himself before he landed on his face, then said as he got up "I may have white hair, but I'm not that old." then when Vladimir was on his feet, he took out two completely different blasters and aimed one at the door and the other in the air, then shot both blasters with a smirk on his face as the blaster bolt shot into the pub made contact and the other bolt flew into the sky as a warning shot. "Now, I usually intend to kill when I use the blaster in my right hand, and my left is set to stun. Hopefully this former CEO won't have to murder anyone here."

________________________________​
When we left off, Kale was making his way to Borjo's palace for revenge, Vault (Raven) had followed Kagur to the spaceport in pursuit of information, and our resident Dark Jedi and Sith Lord were both enjoying the hospitality of Borjo's palace.
Let the carnage ensue.
I'll post first and then we can continue on with the story.
 
The Spacer
Writer
Daxton Bane

Daxton stared the Hutt straight in the eye and said, "You're not meeting your quota Borjo. I don't want to hear your excuses. You either deliver the quota of spice we agreed upon to Republic space as we discussed, or we may have to reconsider our business arrangement. And tell that idiot of a Rodonian if he so much as moves his hand an inch closer, I am going to remove his arm and give him a Dxunian Colon Cleanse he will never forget."
Leaning back in his chair he continued, "Be Reasonable? Do I look like a reasonable man to you?" Daxton liked to talk down to the Hutt in his own lair, a not so subtle reminder of the help he gave to dispose of former owner of this fine establishment. If he could do it once, Daxton most certainly could do it again if he set his mind to it.

________________​
Dranok Lussk

Borjo the Hutt's Palace, Tattooine

Of all the places in the galaxy the Big Three just had to send Dranok here.

The black cloaked man gave a heavy sigh as he leaned aimlessly against a tan, dusty wall in Borjo's throne room. His golden eyes twinkled with mirth as he watched the scene happening before him. Some man was menacingly threatening the Hutt, but this one was mighty peculiar. His very presence radiated power, not just any power, but that of the Force. Dranok had picked up on it as soon as the man had stepped foot in the palace, and thus cloaked his own presence just in case. Granted, the Lord Admiral was fully capable of defending himself in any event of action but he preferred that he didn't have to do so on a slightly diplomatic mission such as this.

Oh right, the mission. His yellow eyes wavered from their sources of amusement, traveling across the room to ponder on the other patrons of the throne room. There were several others here as well: Twi'leks, Rodians, Weequay, Gammoreans, and a few Humans. The Humans and Twi'leks happened to be dressed slightly better than their Gammorean and Rodian counterparts, which probably gave the impression that they were in Borjo's favor while the latter were enforcers or bodyguards. Dranok himself was one of the ones who didn't fit in, which was mainly the reason why the shadows of the room had become his temporary residence for the time being. He'd reveal himself to stake his claim, but only when the time arose.

_______________________​
Vault

Caught up in his anger Raven didn't even attempt to look behind him. Drunkards and thieves strived all around him, He almost couldn't find his target, but his skills hadn't failed him yet. The man walked with a brisk pace, but Raven matched two steps more, keeping himself walking just fast enough to stay out of sight, but not too far away. The man walked into a large doorway, which lead into a spaceport of some kind. It didn't make anything easier when two large mercenaries stepped in front of the walkway, making sure nobody followed.

Raven thought about his next step, and took it with silence. The men stood both facing the same direction, with their arms crossed. By the way they were standing, Raven could tell that they were acting tough, flexing every muscle they had to offer. This made their bodies stiff, and hard to maneuver. Raven walked quickly, trying not to take too much time.

Just a few steps away, raven walked as if he was going to simply pass by the mercs, but his true plot was emerging. just as he was about to turn away from the men he lunged back. His palm landed firmly on one of the merc's chests, knocking the air out of his lungs. While that soldier gasped for breath, Raven went to work on the other merc. Merc #2 looked back surprised from his partners struggle, barely recognizing what was happening. In just a split second, one of ravens hands covered the mercs nose and mouth, closing his airways. With his other hand Raven grasped the back of the soldiers head, bringing his body down for a knee in his chest, incapacitating him from the lack of air.

By the time Raven got rid of his first victim, the other guard had managed to get air back in his lungs. The guard swung a fist, but Raven lunged forward, hitting the mans petty throw out of the way and chopping his throat, knocking him unconscious. This all went down in under 2 seconds. Raven didn't check to see if anyone saw his fight, but walked back into the transit hub.
 
The Spacer
Writer
@[member="Vault"] | @[member="Dranok Lussk"] | @[member="Daxton Bane"] | @[member="Vladimir Tedesky"]
____________________
The spaceport was packed. I saw all sorts of species, from Rodians to Wookies to Kabierounians. They came in every size, color and shape imaginable, from gelatinous Hutts to long and limber Echani.

They'd all come for the Pod Races that would take place in the coming week. The racing sport had grown immensely popular in recent times, and a number of other planets hosted races throughout the year in a sort of intergalactic league. I could've been a racer, if I had wanted to, but I couldn't deal with all the publicity. Those racers had little to no privacy. No, I couldn't be in the spotlight.

Not with my habits.

As I made my way to the hangar on the third level of the spaceport, I considered how I would deal with Kagur. The Zabrak certainly wouldn't go down without a fight, and he wouldn't stop trying to kill me until I was dead.

I knew he was lying in wait somewhere, prepared to ambush me. It was an obvious plan. So, like the genius I was, I walked right into it. I could deal with a lone Zabrak.

But I'd forgotten about the damn Belugan.

Kagur and Mirax
Kagur hid behind the ship alongside Kale's blaster poised to shoot the moment the little turd came into view. He never noticed that the man from the bar had followed him. The Belugan, Mirax, had followed behind Kagur, watching his back in case the slippery human attempted to assault him. He did notice the man from the bar following Kagur, but he didn't think anything off it.

After all, Mirax didn't know who the guy was - neither did Kagur. He thought it little more than coincidence that he had been heading to the same place. It was very possible that his ship was simply in that particular spaceport.

The Belugan rode the turbolifts to the third level hangar, and stepped out into the thick crowd, scanning the numerous persons until he located his target. He spotted Kale trying to squeeze through a crowd of Togrutans.

With a swift move, he pulled his blaster from his hip and opened fire. The crowd went insane.
 

Sammo Hache-Khe of Rae

Warden, Traveler, Hopeless Romantic
Character
@[member="Kale Arkin"] @[member="Vault"]
VAULT, RAVEN, and the TRANSIT HUB

Two knocked out bodyguards, a pro-job from the looks of it, and in hurried step Raven was gone through the door to the Hub.

From nearby shadows emerged another figure, one wrapped in bandages and robes, seemingly as protection from the heat and sand. He followed in Raven's footsteps to the entrance of the Transit Hub, stopping by the knocked out bodyguards, the figure looked down at them, nonchalantly dropping down two capsules of bacta that bounced off of the head of one of the bodyguards and landed in the sand. At least it will help them with their headache when they will wake up.

And with that, the masked robed figure stepped into the Hub, following the heat signature trail of Raven, keeping at a comfortable distance where he can be tracked without unnecessarily exposing one's presence to Raven.

If there would be others that could see the figure entering the Hub shortly after Raven, they probably could recognize the style of the robes, such fashion was common against one infamous group. They were very similar to Jedi robes.
 

Vault

Member
Writer
Raven took a tight shift keeping his enemy well in sight. After a few minutes his targets trek was finally finished. The man, seemingly to be waiting for someone, leaned up against a wall and lit up a cigarette. Raven would have taken the chance, but the risk was too great, if this man was waiting for someone, he would have friends there soon. Taking his time, The former Spec ops began to scan the crowd, looking for anyone suspicious. He would need to eliminate his targets ally before assaulting the objective. This meant that anyone who was walking too fast, or looking nervous, or even keeping their distance, was a potential threat.
@Sammo Hache-Khe of Rae
 

Sammo Hache-Khe of Rae

Warden, Traveler, Hopeless Romantic
Character
@[member="Vault"] @[member="Kale Arkin"]
Well, whoever Sammo was following stopped, trouble were probably just around the corner.
Robed man looked through his pockets, pulling out a smoking stick he put it between his lips, he continued at leisurely pace, still seemingly going through his pockets, now nearing Raven's position, he looked around, few people in the Hub, here or there, he was still concealed under his robes, his hands shifting beneath them, looking for something.
He stopped, turning this way and there, looking to others, catching a glimpse of Raven smoking as well, Sammo called out
"Anybody has got a light?"
This offer may trigger either actual light being offered or a blaster bolt sent his way, he was ready for either.
 

Vault

Member
Writer
Raven grunted behind his mask. Only one suspect was in his sight. Keeping track of his other enemy, Raven began to travel towards a robed man with a smoke stick in his mouth that had called him over.
"Excuse me, but I need to ask a question" Raven spoke through his mask while taking long strides to his prey.
One Raven was in range, he put his plan into motion, in only half a second, Raven had taken out his blaster and pressed it against the mans stomach.
"Say a word out of line and I will not hesitate to fire. I just need a little bit of help and you can be on your way"
@Sammo Hache-Khe of Rae
 

Sammo Hache-Khe of Rae

Warden, Traveler, Hopeless Romantic
Character
@[member="Vault"] @[member="Kale Arkin"]
"What a coincidence, I had a question for you as well."
Just as quick as Raven moved over and pressed a blaster to Sammo's stomach, he had a blaster in turn pressed to his own chest, and a lightsaber pressed to underside of his jaw
Sammo looked up from his hooded veil, shining a grin and playful spark in his eyes as he looked at Vault
"Do you not find it troublesome to smoke a cigarette through your mask?"
He then winked, blowing air into the stick he had in his mouth, although it was not lighted, faint grey cloud of something blew onto Raven's mask, it would not obscure his vision
Sammo's fingers were on the trigger of his blaster and the activation button of his lightsaber
"I did not came here for a fight, but it seems we are at an impasse for the time's being, however I am all ears."
He grinned at Raven, blow to the stomach from a blaster was not something he really feared, he had armorweave for protection, besides, it was something he could survive.
"How exactly could I help you?"
 
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