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Crossing Paths (Triko)

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
Tatooine was especially busy during the afternoon. Traders and merchants roaming the desert village with the winds carrying sands through the open air. The people donning robes and hoods to cover themselves from the pestilence of the grainy breeze. One man standing amongst a group, discussing his sales and how badly he was faring in the market. His hands went up in a moment of anger, another merchant pointing directly at him and yelling back when suddenly the first cloaked figure drew a blaster, holding it within point-blank range. Tensions grew higher and the ruckus grew louder, guardsmen walking up to the scene from out of the distance, handling the two and subduing the armed trader.

Another man sat inside of the shade of a tented-roof where a stand once was. His face and head were masked by a helmet, and one red ember of light shown through the translucent visor. He watched the altercation transpire with a silence of disinterest. This planet was crawling with all sorts of criminal activity and messy marketing.
He got to his feet, fixing his battle-torn trench coat, the old burned Empire insignia still staining his armour as a ghost of his past. Hell, he himself was a ghost of a life he no longer knew. He walked toward the center of the village, stopping and looking around. All the people wandering and still talking amongst themselves, unaware that an ex-Sith was in their midst. He then casually took a stroll into the crowd, looking for some excitement.

@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Two million credits. Triko glanced over at his hand again. The cards were all useless- all of them would bring him over twenty.
"Hurry up, little one." The Hutt in front of him grumbled, green tail sliding back and forth impatiently. In response, Triko only glared, giving the cards another look. The four wouldn't work- that'd give him twenty-one. Neither would the minus-six; that'd leave him in a similar position to where he was anyway. "Make your move."
There was no way for him to win, that much was clear.
"Triko make his move when he ready." The jawa shot back, pushing his cards into one hand as he lowered his left. Without a doubt the Hutt knew what was going on- the security droids around him seemed to know to, their glowing blue eyes permanently fixed on him. "Triko not ready yet." He considered the minus-six again.
Two million fething credits. No- the minus-six would not do. Triko could tell that just by glancing at the titanic pile of credits; either him or the Hutt wasn't going to leave this building.

He intended on it being the Hutt.

One second his hand was wrapped around the icy cold grip of a blaster, the other it was firing. In a flash of furious red light, the Pazaak table collapsed and the Hutt let out a thunderous groan, thick green blood spilling out across its vast slimy skin. Triko fired a second shot and leapt backwards, vaulting backwards over the leather chair he'd been sitting on a moment before. Three shots of vibrant green flew overhead, obliterating the great Neimoidian painting behind him; Triko met these with five shots of his own, decapitating the leftmost droid and doing little more to the other than irritate it, piercing blue eyes shifting to an infernous red. Without pausing for any sort of thought, the jawa scrambled back and slid behind a massive ebony table emblazoned with ornate carvings. In a moment that was in pieces too.

"Utini!" Triko let out a savage war cry, firing one last shot to obliterate the droid's shiny durasteel groin.

He spared no time collecting the credits, sliding them into his Poncho and dashing into the street- the Hutt had many friends, and most of them were quite dangerous.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
Zius was walking down the streets himself until he stumbled a bit, almost tripping over a midget-sized blur that seemed to be in quite the hurry. He spun around to see the Jawa flee for his life with what looked to be an enormous amount of something stuffed away on his person. What exactly went on he had no clue, but he did wish to find out. Reaching into his coat, he grabbed his lightsaber and began to pace himself quickly into the direction of the spooked runaway. He then saw droids coming from behind, seemingly after the very same Jawa that just tripped him. A couple would stop to eye the saber-wielding man, raising their blasters as if they'd expect him to surrender so easily.

"Oh come on, I've much better things to accomplish! Like finding that Jawa, and you're only slowing me down."

They didn't hesitate to open fire if the Dark Jedi wasn't going to comply. Zius ducked under the rifle of the first droid on the left, activating his blade and twirling it in circular pattern as it severed both the droid's arms. He then gave a strong thrust into its torso, burning out any necessary components to keep it standing, causing it to crash into the sand lifelessly. As for the secondary obstacle, he held out his left hand and ripped the blaster right out of its metallic fingers with his TK and into his own palm. Zius wrapped his index finger around the trigger and fired off a few rounds alternating from its crotch, chest, and head. It stood in a daze after it was fired upon, still alive just before Zius tossed the gun to the ground, following up with a vertical uppercut which would separate said droid from its legs.

After this quarrel was settled, the Dark Jedi took off after the Jawa once again. He simply had to know what it was he stole, and how such a small being caused so much trouble.

@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Scattering clouds of dust in all directions, Triko ran through the winding streets, one hand fumbling around with his poncho. At least he felt it- stumbling past an Ithorian, he came to a halt and drew it. It was a bantha horn, coated in silver and banded with gold. Carvings covered its surface, and the pointed end was cut off short to form a hole. He took it to his lips and blew.

Arooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Arooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

A second later the wall to his right exploded, chunks of pale stone skidding across the dust, a thick, swirling cloud spilling around the hole. "Come here!" He grinned, and so a titanic white bantha, three meters tall, plodded through. Upon its back was Triko's patented HOB-NOB propulsion device, a mess of aged cables and hulking engines that stood like some ugly growth protruding from its back. Triko clambered up its side and onto the leather saddle, patting the albino creature affectionately on its massive head and tracing one finger along its spiraling grey horns.

"Forwards!" He shrieked, and so the monster bounded forwards, flattening a group of shocked bystanders as he shot for the gates of the town.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
A stare and a perplexed fixation of his brow is all Zius could generate as a response. What he just witnessed was something extremely foreign and unlikely to him, and perhaps to the common folk of the area as well; although, they might be more accustomed to the bizarre happenings on Tatooine.

The young Dark Jedi figured he could catch up to the mounted Jawa with his sprinting, and so he did as he burst forward with Force speed and steroid-enhanced muscle function. Jumping to a short structure, he made his path one to be on the roofs of the buildings, trying to get steady and aligned with the thrill-seeking creature. Zius then realized the moment of opportunity he had here, and the potential reward for bringing down a thief of such a quantity in credits. He jumped onto the roof of another building with a higher structure, looking toward the gate with the intention of ceasing the escapee before he could reach it.

Suddenly in the Jawa's view, a large portion of boxes and miscellaneous objects would be bursting from either side of the streets as Zius himself manipulated the environment with his TK; a supply crate here, being shot out in front of Triko like a bullet along with a a few merchant stands and scraps of metal all tumbling into the midget's way, hopefully causing him to trip up and crash into the dirt.

Zius could only imagine how sweet an offer this would rake in, and all of the following possibilities.

@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Triko saw the shower of debris and laughed, a cloud of dust rushing over him. The street ahead became a mess of broken crates and ragged stands, shards of metal poking out of the sand; this did not concern Triko. Without a second glance, he simply reached out for the controls of the HOB-NOB, and pressed the big red button.

He liked big red buttons.

With a stuttering, thunderous bang, a swirling torrent of flame shot out behind the bantha, and Triko sped forth, the battering ram of flesh and steel almost lifting from the ground as the rockets reached full speed. It was admittedly quite concerning that the right engine seemed to be emitting smoke, but before he could really process the issue he was crashing through the debris. The bantha swerved left and right, belting through the doors of the desert town with a horrid crunch that was hopefully not the bantha's neck breaking and finally lifting from the ground, sending Triko into the air in a grand display of thick black smoke and blood-red flame.

For that instant he was a comet, soaring above the sands.

The next instant he was falling quite fast towards them.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
Zius observed the rather mischievous Jawa, simply waiting for him to crash into the sand below. He shook his head, what the feth had he gotten himself into? Of all things to occupy his time, it had to be something of the utmost ridiculous nature. Not everything here was comprehensible, but Zius had some idea of what was going on. A Jawa fleeing the scene with arm-fulls of credits, droids going on the offensive, etc. After the said Jawa had crashed down, Zius would attempt to catch him off-guard by generating a Force push strong enough to make it feel as if a wall of bricks were smashing into Triko.

If this were successful, the Dark Jedi would advance forward with lightning speed brought on by his modifications and use from the Force, attempting to snatch up the small one by his poncho, shaking him around in order to loosen and free the dirty credits. No currency on this planet was exactly "clean". Pay for, or from the bounty hunters that roam through these places. Or perhaps even stolen.

@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
The moment the bantha hit the sand, Triko flew from the saddle, crashing into the sand with a thump.

Limbs splayed outwards, the jawa groaned quietly. Without a second of reprieve, he felt a thunderous wave of solid air wash over him, sending him spinning even further through the sound. One hand pushed against the sand, forcing him onto his knees in once clumsy motion.

Son of a bantha.

Triko had barely gathered his strength and brought himself back onto his feet before he was attacked once more- in an instant he was in the air again, held in an iron grip as he span through the air. With a thunderous clangor, credits, ancient relics and weapons of mass destruction flew in all directions; Triko stared in complete disbelief as items near and dear to his heart shot across the dunes. Two things that hadn't fallen out were his blaster and his knife- Triko wasn't that stupid.

Icy cold durasteel glinted for a second in the twin suns of Tatooine before sliding firmly into his grip; still flying in a wild circle, he thrust the blade with as much force as he could over his shoulder and into the direction of the mysterious hand, the gleaming metal looking almost crystalline in the monstrous heat.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
As Zius was shaking the Jawa about all haphazardly and with grand strength, he hadn't noticed any weapons on Triko and was met with a knife as it nicked his left cheek. Brave little rat he was, but at the same time daring and chancing upon a mere blade to uphold his vitality which this Dark Jedi had no care in the galaxy for. Zius stopped shaking the Jawa long enough to eye him up and down for a moment before attempting to slam his body into the ground recklessly. If this thief could escape with all these credits and live, he should be able to take some pain as well.

"You've got some fight in you...don't let it go to waste. Really I just wanted to understand why you're running before I turn you in for a handsome reward; although, that wouldn't be fair, would it? You worked so hard to achieve this small mountain of wealth."

Zius didn't necessarily plan on letting the small one live if indeed he proved capable enough of defending himself, but neither this fact nor the showiness of the spectacle would matter in the end. Nobly selfless or pure selfish benefit, he wanted that money in his hands as well. If anyone dared to give him the dissatisfaction of a simple "no," then he would carve his way out with lightsaber in hand with the Force fueling his every move. Death or bountiful riches, which would come first?

@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
As the spinning slowed, Triko sheathed the blade quickly and readied himself to land on his feet; this plan was interrupted as he was instead hurled down into the sand. Nonetheless, he took it in his stride, using the momentum to gain a few meters of distance as he rolled along the sand, picking himself up as fast as he could and placing one hand over his blaster.

"Triko running from Hutt. You work for Hutt?" Piercing golden eyes stared, unblinking, locked onto the face of the human.

"Tell Triko. Then he kill you." The other hand gripped the hilt of his blade once more.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
"No. I don't work for your slithering, gelatinous scum known as Hutt. Infact, I don't work for anyone."

Zius stared the little one down with a thick stillness. He'd then begin to generate a strange, distorted static-like noise. It would grow louder and louder as he reached inside his trench coat and unveiled his lightsaber. The noise would grow to a near-deafening rate before ending abruptly, allowing the silence to blanket the area once again like a sheet of slowly falling snow. Then he spoke...

"I'm going to rip you apart... I will flay you alive, and your husk will become a banner for the defeat that I will wrought upon you if you don't -GIVE- me those credits."

His mouth wasn't even moving, almost as if the voice would be emulated via his suit. It would sound similar to a very faint, distant scream mixed in with a cold, monotonous speaking voice which had a harsh bite to it. Zius wanted to scare the Jawa, instill fear into the small one's psyche. He'd then approach, his red cybernetic eye glaring vividly as he drew ever closer.

@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Now that was funny.

Trying to scare Triko was, for all intents and purposes, like getting a krayt dragon to dance while a hutt rode its back.

"Triko no like prosthetics." He spat, eyes moving back and forth across the human. "Human have too many prosthetics." With that he shook his head, edging over to the pile of weapons that'd fallen out of his poncho. Gun still pointed towards the human's head, he scooped up a few grenades, rising back onto his feet and stepping back towards the human.

"You know why Triko no like prosthetics?" One hand gripped a grenade. "You put faith in machine. Never put faith in machine."

In a flash, he activated the grenade- red lights fell across the sand and with that, he threw it.

Not a thermal detonator. A Ion grenade.

Never put faith in machine.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
Zius knew of what an ion grenade was capable of, and as soon as the Jawa would launch it into the air, the Dark Jedi would merely wave it off with his TK, sending it volleying to the left of where the Jawa had intended for it to go- still no where close.

He'd then burst into a wicked sprint, launching into the air and aiming himself to crash right on top of Triko with the same ferocity as a pissed Rancor that just got zapped by an electrostaff. If successful, Zius would begin to send a flurry of inhumane punches and claw slashes direct toward the Jawa's head/chest. He could have very well underestimated the creature, but if this wasn't the case then he'd be in for a world of pain.
@[member="Triko"]
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
The grenade flew towards Zius, and with a flick of the wrist it suddenly seemed to be flying in another direction.

This concerned Triko for multiple reasons:
  • He was probably going to get hurt.
  • He was almost certainly going to get hurt.
  • He was going to get hurt.
The moment the human sprinted forwards, Triko hit the deck- unfortunately, his opponent decided to jump onto him anyway. As the grey blur crashed down onto him, he raised his blaster and fired as many shots as he could. unsure if any were going to hit their mark.

Hopefully his aim was true.

It usually was.

@[member="Zius Aurus"]
 

Rusken Shaxx

High-Knight
Character
Multiple shots fired, multiple shots landed.

This proved futile.

The shots did land, no doubt about it; however, the rounds slammed into his plated chest and sparks flew about, dissipating into the ground as they fell. The Jawa's efforts to put up a fight weren't looking too good. The Dark Jedi arched his clawed left hand back, attempting to slash Triko across his tiny, susceptible cranium. Trying to dig the metallic points of his finger-tips into his flesh to a fair depth, ripping with a harsh fashion.

Those credits will be had, or no one shall claim them. Not even the rightful owner.

@[member="Triko"]
 
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