Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Desert Heat [ORC Dominion of Manas | P,57]

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Near the juncture of the outer rim and wild space sits a planet swathed by harsh deserts, rocky mountains and smaller patches of fertile land. Throughout most of the planet’s history, Manas has been regarded as an insular world inhabited by a primitive tribal people. Tall and strong, the native Nasvalo are typically not kind to outsiders and prefer to hunt, gather and trade among their own. However, in the past decade or so, the Nasvalo living in resource deficient deserts have cautiously opened their arms to outsiders. The discovery of tibana gas deposits in the wasteland that was their territory lead to an economic boom, spawning several large cities in the desert.

Life in the desert went from rough to rich in the span of a few years, and Manas began to attract more and more visitors. Some were looking to trade or establish an outpost while others came looking to hire cheap labor from the physically strong natives. In any case, the people have an undertone of wariness when it comes to interaction from outsiders. Desert dwellers tend to be more modern and willing to interact, while those living in the plains and mountains dislike outsiders and prefer their simple lifestyle.

Objective 1: Business
Explore the capital of Sel, a bustling desert city that prides itself on being almost as modern as the galactic standard. Land and labor are cheap here and the natives are more than willing to hash out deals with outsider companies or participate in some trading. [Major Faction Contract]

Objective 2: Heroics
A vicious group of pirates known as The Burning Scar, named as such for the deep scorched scars they bear on their chests as emblems, have descended upon the small city of Kafez with the objective of capturing and enslaving its citizens. Children and young adults are the primary targets, but the pirates are also intent on robbing what they can and causing destruction to the city. Stop the mayhem and save the kiddos.

Objective 3: Diplomacy/Aid
Reports of disease have slowly been trickling in from the mountain region. The afflicted suffer from bouts of coughing, bloody mucus, fever and malaise. Without treatment, entire tribes could be wiped out. Travel into the mountains to try and reach the one of these insular nomadic tribes and convince them to take the medicine you’ve hauled all this way from the capital. Be cautious, though—mountain people are very protective of their old ways and do not trust outsiders.

Objective 4: BYOO
Explore the planet, tame an eagle, start the SW version of Burning Man. Do your own thing.
 

Klesta

The King of Ergonomic Assessments
Objective 1: Business (peddling ergonomic assessments)
Company: Sith Inquisitor
Allies: TBD

Klesta had gathered a few clients willing to preorder ergonomic assessments back on Hosnian Prime, large and small, but actually acting upon these preorders was another matter altogether. He realized that, while Zonju was their main presence in ORC space, it was mostly concerned with the journalistic side of operations. It was time for him to fly halfway across the galaxy from Hosnian Prime to field more preorders for ergonomic assessments, enough to perhaps justify a new location on Manas. And maybe sign the holy grail of most companies, especially a service company: a major-faction contract. Thus it was a golden opportunity, and he proceeded to go meet the main workplace health and safety agency on the planet, where he was more than convinced that they will at least consider their offer of training the planet's WH&S inspectors. Because the Jawa knew that meeting the galactic standard on a societal bass would also mean such a standard would be met with respect to WH&S. He is greeted by the receptionist of the facility, which urges him to take a ticket to see the WH&S administrators:

"Take a ticket, please"

"Currently serving: number 48. Utinni!" Klesta screeched upon receiving his ticket for meeting with the WH&S administration, number 73.
 
Objective 3: Diplomacy/Aid

Did he feel comfortable on his home planet? Sure, sure. There was no place like home. Home to him was the sprawling desert metropolis of Sel, a modern city with modern amenities. By all accounts, Avi had been spoiled there. His parents had struck it rich in the tibana gas industry and made sure that their only child never lacked for anything. They’d grown up with scarring on their hands and feet from the harsh desert lifestyle, faces red from the wind burn. Avi barely remembered living in a scavenging desert caravan. His life had been full meals, holostations and recreational sports.

He’d planned on staying in Sel to visit his parents and catch up on his old stomping grounds, but duty called. The Nasvalo had slowly begun to shed his self-centered ways after his bout with the resistance and helping refugees off of Thyferra. It had been the most intense and uncomfortable situation he’d ever experienced in his privileged life. It the end it had brought out a natural empathy and instinct to protect that Avi didn’t know he had.

“Should be getting close now,” The young man mumbled, raising one large hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight. The small group had been carefully meandering around the foothills for a few hours, working their way into a mountain valley popular with the nomadic tribes. Disease wasn’t uncommon for their people, but this one was something a little more unusual. It spread fast, hit hard and took out entries families. While not entirely deadly, it was worrisome enough as it took a long while to recover from and seemed to leave some lasting lung damage in its wake. Life was laborious in nomadic tribes and a few deaths could cause the entire group to suffer.

Avi had never been to the mountains, but he knew people who’d emigrated from there into his home city. They were…a stern people. Most of them initially lived in the slums and served as manual laborers given their intense strength. To say that they would be welcoming, even of him, would be a vast overstatement.
 

Gilamar Skirata

The most important step is always the next one
Objective: Business; Major Faction Contract

The sand dusted streets of Sel were hard, like packed dirt. The remnants of a sand storm crunched and rolled beneath his boots as the sun beat down on him. He felt the heat even beneath his cloak and every time he breathed it felt like he was drinking a bottle of thick dust, but this place was far out enough where Zeke felt it was easy to smuggle things to Echoylir. He had informed Gil of a seedy dockmaster and "used" ship salesman duo that he would be working with to get MandalMotors shipments to the Outer Rim.

This was going to be their drop off point.

The doors to the local spaceport hissed open and a rush of cool air met his sweating face. He sighed in relief and pulled his hood back. The spaceport was surprisingly modern looking considering how far out in the Outer Rim the planet was.

"Ah! My friend! My Friend!" An unfamiliar voice called to him and a heavy arm fell on his shoulders, "Zeke told me all about you! Come, come! We've been expecting you. Right this way." The shorter, tubbier man was surely not from this word, or he was just an unlucky man to have become fat and short among a race of tall and well built people. The old man rolled his eyes and followed the man behind closed doors.
 
#1

The Dark Pirate fled across the desert and the sword-slinger followed. Yellow slitted eyes scanned the horizon for his prey but he had a headstart and Faeroth knew he would be expecting pursuit. He slid his sword back into the sheath and comforted himself with the sound of the sun heated steel against the hard rancor leather. It reminded him of a life lived his way and his dedication to the life that fate had chosen for

The burning scar pirate was a darkling, somehow these people had all turned from the path of the simple thieving pirate to marauding darklings. He feared that the secrets of his sect had fallen into the hands of those who could never understand the morality of its use. He had to be sure, and so he tracked them.

He moved across the rough grain ground not yet to the shifting dunes and poured a half swallow of water from his water skin into his already dry mouth. He would find them and bleed the answers from them if he had to.

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Avi Soltani"] [member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Klesta"]
 
Objective : Major Contract | Location : Manas , The Plains, Kafez


Some consideration was given to Manas when Salacia Consolidated was looking to expand its base of operations. Sel was the most 'advanced' or most open to advancement he had been told. Yet it was an extreme climate - hot, dusty and unforgiving. Considering most of his workers and business associates tended to be of the aquatic nature, they had turned an eye outward. Kafez used to the be hub of Manas and depending who one talked to it still was.


As far as he was concerned, the outlying area of Kafez was perfect for Salacia Consolidated to settle into. High winds and sunshine would feed their green energy production and make any buildings self sufficient. Design would flawlessly lend itself to local architecture. A perfect place for a variety of operations : salvage processing, mining and green energy could all be easily expanded to the location.


First though, Salacia would have to deal with the rumors of pirates. Judah himself wasn't concerned. Salacia hired excellent security, military grade and fully trained to handle any situation. Considering their work took them to lawless areas he didn't consider the expense extreme but necessary, merely a cost of doing business.
 

Klesta

The King of Ergonomic Assessments
Objective 1: Business (peddling ergonomic assessments)
Company: Sith Inquisitor
Allies: TBD

"Looks like the clerks' chairs are not adjustable: may as well point that out when our turn comes" Tiffany told Klesta.

"And the reading material: utinni! It's like a legal library in there, with a few publications about the latest developments in WH&S sprinkled in"

"Customer number 73, proceed to desk number 1" the PA voice sounded.

What an unpleasant experience of getting deals made: red tape everywhere. I hope that the local bureaucracy is workable, he thought, while Tiffany realized that nearly all of the customers before them were there to make unsafe workplace complaints or worker compensation claims, or following up on either of those items. They machinally get to desk #1, where they are to detail what they can actually offer the local authorities and discuss the issues related to WH&S inspections and, with it, ergonomic assessments. And, of course, the resulting risks of conflicts of interest, which are all too real here. He thus hands the clerk a brochure about ergonomic assessments and the answers to common questions about them, while also being mindful of any meetings with the higher-ups. The clerk attentively reads the brochure that he was handed, with the Jawa being a little concerned about whether or not the gatekeeper would actually let them go see who they feel is relevant to get the deal closed. But the clerk had no authority to close deals of that magnitude, and perhaps the clerk's supervisor will realize something.

"I will confer with my supervisor and maybe my supervisor will meet with you regarding the procurement of... ergonomic assessments: it's the first time I ever heard of those things"
 
Objective 2:

Chedi hated to admit it when he was wrong, but there wasn't much of a choice in this situation. Not only had he managed to navigate [member="Thuumal Xevshe"] and himself to the completely opposite side of the galaxy than they had originally planned, but the Trailblazer had decided that now was the time to blow a gasket - or something. He wasn't sure - he's not a mechanic after all! On top of that, they were on some planet that he had never heard of - Manas

"Ok - ok. We are not on D'Qar like we had planned. It looks like we have landed on....Manas. But you know, that's OK. I heard Manas is an up and coming planet! Lots to do! How about we just take a walk outside, get to know the area and take a break. We deserve it!" Mr. Xevshe and he had just come from a gun-run with Jax and were flush in credits and outfitted with some pretty nice new hardware. He just hoped the Mr. Xevshe hadn't notice that Chedi couldn't get The Trailblazer started up again. Or that he wasn't too mad about the navigation miscalculation. Who knew hyperdrives could be so hard?
 
Objective: Business as usual
Post #2

She sat calmly in the small conference room on her ship as she read the contract pitch for her new location. She had many motives for choosing Manas but those were not in the pitch she had prepared for ORC officials.

To whom it may concern,

Miraxus Inc is offering Crystal data matrices to citizens and military personnel for the purpose of loss prevention and deep space exploration. These implants will allow a person's mind and personality to be preserved in the event of accidental death or incurable disease. With the free implant and our standard model clones (sliding scale cost), Miraxus Inc could effectively end premature death for your people. We have tailored bodies at higher cost of course but that clone line is made to order.

The applications of this technology are vast and a relatively simple process. To begin servicing your citizens we only require the standard operating permit (already applied for) and for the ORC to sign off on the technology as legally obtainable within your boarders.

Sincerely,

Cecile D. Miraxus, Owner
Ducha of House Miraxus
C.D.Miraxus10n1y@holonet.hapes.net


She checked the content briefly and sent it before standing to welcome a cloaked man as he entered.

"Haran Ça, did you bring me the products?" She asked as she leaned forward over the table, Glacial eyes cold and hard.

"Ye, and tis a fine batch 'tis, Missus." The thick bodied and thicker skulled man replied. "I think we's-"

"You'll think what I pay you to think." She snapped, a rare show of emotion. Must be the heat. "Load them into the containers and get them to the Kaminoan undamaged. People would pay handsomely to be tall, tan, and thin. Now, leave before I send the good doctor you as a mindless scum template. Collect your pay on the way out."
 
#1
Allies: [member="Chedi Iqari"]
Objective: #2 Save the Slaves - Piracy against pirates, unshacklin' the kids, and otherwise maraudin' some marauders
Location: Somewhere in the deserts of Manas, not far from the City of Kafez

The landing of the Trailblazer had been somewhat....unplanned. Thuumal Xevshe looked out of the cockpit windows at the vast desert now surrounding the small ship. A dust cloud floated by, gently depositing a fine powder of sand on the ship. He thought he smelled smoke coming from somewhere else in the ship. I'm sure that's a great sign... He pondered. Where were they?

Xevshe unbuckled his harness and gave a sideways glance to his plucky companion. "Nope, this isn't where we were headed." Xevshe laughed and said with a smile, "Well, you're just lucky I'm not going to kick your Manas for marooning me in the desert. We are marooned, right? That's what that burning smell is, I presume?"

Xevshe started to get up to take a look at the ship's integrity.
 

Sebastian Thel

Guest
S
Objective: Refine Algorithms
Allies: [member="Cecile Miraxus"]

While Cecile handled trade negotiations in the public eye, Sebastian sat behind a desk in a small room within the confines of her ship. The drone of the hull moving through hyperspace muted the beeping of equipment and assisted his concentration. Metallic walls encircled his tilted head as he leaned deeply over the algorithm beneath his grip. Tracing lines with his protractor, he reviewed the final models for the crystal data matrix.

Every so often, a scientist knocked on his door to receive a completed design. The office was not spacious, containing only one window and an adjoining refresher. Sebastian was only grateful to be kept far away from the board meetings and crowded offices which he could not handle. Pressing a button on his desk, he spoke to Cecile from the other side of the ship.

"Miss Miraxus, this set is almost ready to be dispatched." Sebastian spoke into the communicator built into his desk. He released the button and paused for a moment, revising his calculations and sifting through each figure.

Sipping a mug of coffee which had gone cold, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and continued to work. As he formulated the quantities at the point of each angle, he evaluated any inaccuracies made on the model and refined the algorithm. He adjusted the rate of change at which the energy functioned, lessening the rate at which the effect was released in order to avoid damaging the delicate frame.

A knock at the door caused Sebastian to look up. He saw a female scientist waiting to receive the revised design. Still tracing away with his pen and his nose directed towards the paper, Sebastian spoke to her in a soft and reassuring tone.

"With these changes, the design will be complete." He said as he completed the final equation. Rising from his desk, he carefully carried the sheets of graph paper and handed the edges to the scientist, who offered him a nod of thanks and turned around to leave.
 

Klesta

The King of Ergonomic Assessments
Objective 1: Business (peddling ergonomic assessments)
Company: Sith Inquisitor
Allies: TBD

After an excruciating wait of about five more minutes, the two were brought into the office of the agency's head administrator, whose copy of the ergonomic assessment brochure was being read by her in full before she could even think of receiving the two in the office, which was the only one he could see that actually featured adjustable furniture. But he knew better than to talk about recommendations to make the workplaces of the agency better before talking about the ergonomic assessments proper. That was going to be a long day, just as long as it was prior to them meeting - it was so heavy with procedure that the two people's patience was wearing thin, and the more they had them wait, the more likely they were to give up trying to peddle the ergonomic assessments to that particular entity. Utinni: now I understand why they couldn't get the stuff done: so much red tape everywhere! Worse than the First Order, I can tell as much, he thought, before the head administrator began reviewing the bid documents they submitted prior to their arrival.

"Greetings, what can I do for you?"

"I would be willing to discuss the bid on the training of the workplace health and safety inspectors as well as offering ergonomic assessments throughout the agency's facilities"
 
"...We are marooned, right?That's what that burning smell is, I presume?"

Chedi just gave a side-long look to Mr. Xevshe. He wasn't going to dignify that with a comment.

"She's just a little fickle. We probably need a new ...fanbelt or something. Let's just walk over to the town and see what we can find. Maybe we can get another job, even"

[member="Thuumal Xevshe"]
 
#2
Allies: [member="Chedi Iqari"]
Objective: #2
Location: Somewhere in the deserts of Manas, not far from the City of Kafez

Xevshe raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Chedi. "I'm no mechanic, but that doesn't sound quite...accurate. Still your plan is probably the best one we've got right now, Captain." He shook his head, picked up his blaster rifle and headed outside.

He gave Chedi a hard time, but he respected the young Mirialan. Life as an exile wasn't easy. It had been mere weeks since the mysterious beings of the Kathol Rift had rescued Xevshe from the slave ship, and much longer since he had been exiled from Falleen. His consciousness and memories had gotten sharper with time, but his sense of purpose was still diluted by questions about what happened and where he would go from here. It had been nearly as long since he had a nightmare. He wondered if his walking psychosis would return.

The sun beat down on him immediately after exiting the ship. Though the temperature was warm, he shivered as he waited for his associate, checking his rifle before slinging it on his back. He had no reason to expect danger, yet he could feel his quickened pulse and a tightness in his chest. Something about this wasn't quite right.
 
#2
Allies: Chedi Iqari
Objective: #2
Location: Somewhere in the deserts of Manas, not far from the City of Kafez

Chedi and Mr. Xevshe started to walk towards the city when he began to get a sense of ... was it pain? He wasn't sure. He had never really had that sensation before. It was like his soul was crying out in response to some sort of tragedy. He had flashbacks to his sister, sobbing in her room with her reputation in tatters. He felt this emotional pull to leave the road towards the City and to walk towards one of the tent-villages that he could see in the distance. He couldn't explain it but it felt like there was something happening there and he needed to be there to help. He looked towards Mr. Xevshe.

"You know what, I think that maybe we should do a little exploring. Maybe up towards those tents over there." He hoped that he would not have to explain exactly why he felt so drawn towards those tents because he wasn't sure if he even truly understood it. However, as the minutes passed, that burning impulse to go to the tent continued to intensify.

[member="Thuumal Xevshe"]
 

Gilamar Skirata

The most important step is always the next one
The room was poorly lit by a singular hanging florescent light. It wasn't the seediest room he'd ever been in, but it really made him wonder how a man as ritzy as Zeke had found this group of legitimate businessmen turned smugglers. That's probably exactly why they're so seedy, the old man thought to himself as a larger, more evenly proportioned man entered from a door on the opposite side of the room.

"Hm. So this is the MandalMotors man?"

"Yes! Yes! Quick, let us sit!."

It felt like Gil was just being ushered along and he didn't much like it, but did he really have much of a choice?
 

Klesta

The King of Ergonomic Assessments
Objective 1: Business (peddling ergonomic assessments)
Company: Sith Inquisitor
Allies: TBD

"Well, you're the only one that bid for this and I would like more information about your ability to provide the service"

"First, training the inspectors. There are two options: either we have the prospective inspectors flown to either Charros or Ziost for their training or we could establish a training facility on-world"

The two options carry a different set of implications. The first one seems less complex than the second, but the second would probably be more beneficial in the long run. Especially since ergonomic assessments were poorly understood by the galaxy at large until a rash of work-related injuries or work accidents occur. Finding out that a given workplace is not safe for operations is probably unpleasant for everybody to receive the news of, but that was preventable, and whose implications are not always readily understood. Klesta put two options on the table and he was ready to go forward with pressing the case; the manager wanted more information about the costs of providing the options. So there are more fixed costs with the second option, but very few in the first (comparatively speaking). And then he produced a document about exactly that: her eyes were lighting up as the information was seemingly presented in a crisp format, unlike some of the other vendor presentations, which were often more obscure than needed.
 
Objective: 2
Location: Kafez, plains
Nearby: [member="Chedi Iqari"] [member="MantisEsq"] [member="Thuumal Xevshe"]

Nasvalo were a familial bunch. As much as Alm wanted to explore the galaxy and usher her people into a new age of modernism, she still couldn’t stay away from her tribe for too long. Despite her leaving, she’d always been welcomed back with open arms.

News of the respiratory plague reached her the moment she hit the spaceport in Sel. The party that had gone to deliver the medicine had left the day before, but Alm had no issues making the journey on her own. After all, this was her home. She had nothing to fear from the hostile dwellers of the mountain ranges.

A pit stop through Kafez would be necessary in order to stay stocked on supplies. Unlike Sel, the smaller city was downright ancient and had been a staple of Manas for centuries. In those days before Sel, Kafez served as a sort of informal planetary capital and trade hub between the mountains and desert. Alm was also eager to see how the city had changed after she’d been gone for a few years.

There were more people, she’d noticed this not just in Sel but while traveling through the plains heading towards Kafez. More outsiders here to trade and do business, but the ships on the horizon of the stone city made her gut twist. Something was off. Urging her mount into a sprint, she sped towards the city as pinpoint figures began to flesh themselves out as she drew closer. One of them was a man—a foreign man from his height and state of dress—grabbing a young woman as she fled from the city outskirts. Alm’s eyes narrowed and she reached for the hammer strapped across her back.
 
Objective Two
No friends... going near [member="Alm"] eventually.
Everyone is an enemy.


The chains he found himself in, stowed away like a rat in the bowels of the ship. He was sat on a box, and would be released soon for another bathroom break in the ships meager facilities. Then, they would bring him food, water, and lock him back against the anchor in the floor. From what he could tell, he was on a planet. He knew enough about space travel to know when the ship had landed. He had only ever been in a ship one other time, when he was transported to the Red Tower as a young boy. He supposed he came from a ship as well, because his earliest memories were with a group of Twi'lek children- hence his language. Though he never learned to read, there was one thing that he learned very well how to do- to fight.

Thal had to time it perfectly, like parrying a blow or pressing the attack on a weaker enemy.

The pirate, belonged to a group that he heard referred to as other parts of the ship as 'The Burning' or something to that effect, came forward, with the nutrient pack and water bottle in hand. How kind. He reached down and undid the anchor at his feet. Thal knew that they had lessened the security. Loosened the leash on their animal. They were trying to sell him to someone, a gladiator.

Thal saw his chance for freedom, for revenge.

As soon as the pirate reached down, Thal's hands wrapped around the Zabrak's face, and he twisted it violently. Thal was built entirely out of muscle and anger, he had done nothing else but train to fight, and fight to survive for the entire time he had been alive in the galaxy. The Zabrak fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Thal let him down gently, not wishing to create such a noise so soon into his revenge. He rubbed his weary wrists, scarred and worn by years of being confined to shackles.

No more.

No more Gods. No more Masters.

Thal had no experience with the blaster on the man's thigh. But he would learn. He retrieved the stun stick from the man's jacket, one that was intended for Thal, if he were to guess. His brief exploration of the ship was uneventful, it would seem that the pirates in this small, dark vessel had other things to do. The last pirate that was here on the ship, was crouched against the controls that Thal assumed piloted the ship. The blast shields were down, concealing the true identity of the world beyond the ship. But it would also conceal him.

His Huttese was perfect, as it was his first learned language.

<"Don't forget you chose this.">

He activated the stun stick and beat the Togorian over, and over, and over, and over. The stun stick drew blood, and scorched skin when it impacted. Thal turned it all the way up, before he jabbed it into the Togorian's maw, letting the electrical current run through his body. He laughed, covered in the Togorian's battered blood. Victory. Finally. Freedom at the cost of blood. The cost of two lives. Two, pathetic lives. He had no qualms over killing them. It felt good. It felt right. The controls were in the language he had seen many times, but was unable to grasp the symbols. He had never been taught to read.

So he pressed all the buttons he could on the ship. Slowly, surely enough, a ramp, elsewhere on the ship lowered. A rush of heat into the body of the ship allowed him to trace it. Sand and a bright light, one more intense than he had ever witnessed. Caked in the blood his captors, his feet, bound in sandals, felt sand not from an arena, but from a true desert.

He collapsed to his knees, looking up at the sun. Bright blue eyes had never seen a light so intense. His eyes looked over. He was on the outskirts of a city of some kind. Old, that much he could tell from what he could gather. Ancient, maybe. Worn stone and old looking buildings. Not that Thal had seen much outside of a cage. The pirate was dragging the woman back to where they had kept him. Thal stood, tears of joy and relief staining his blood-soaked face. In the distance, another figure. Thal could not defeat the two incoming men, undoubtedly the other inhabitants of the ship- with this weapon unknown to him. Thal instead, did a rather...unusual tactic.

He played dead. The two men, and what he heard as a woman, crying and screaming. He had heard it before. Slavers taking lives for profit. He couldn't move, not quite yet. They needed to be close. As soon as they came upon their supposedly dead other cargo, they cursed in Huttese. Thal's icy-blue eyes shot open, locking with the terrified woman's. He lashed out with a kick, shattering the kneecap of the nearby Duros pirate, before he reached up and jabbed the human he was with in the solar plexus. He felt the man's sternum give and crack. He began to wheeze, from the unexpected, intense assault to his chest cavity. Thal slowly rose, as his Duros companion lay screaming, while the human was simply struggling to breathe.

He kicked the human man in the knee, bringing him down to both of his knees. He leveled the blaster with his face, and put a single bolt through his eye socket. He beat the Duros to death with the blaster, all to the dismay and horror of the woman who had saved. He dropped the blood-caked blaster, and began to laugh, and stood, unshackled, unbowed, and undefeated.

His eyes fell down to a figure in the distance. He could barely make out the image of a hammer through the haze of the desert heat. He began to walk towards the shadowy figure, shirtless, caked in blood, and with the restraints that he had freed himself from still tied to his wrists. The heat was new to him, but the adrenaline soaring through his body, and the rush of the fight- the warm blood rush, that was an old friend. Thirst and hunger didn't bother him, and it wouldn't until much later. For now, he was going to see what this mysterious hammer-wielding figure wanted.

He spoke in Huttese- hoping the popular language could at least be recognized over whatever language they spoke here, shouting over the light winds that plagued the desert eternally.

<"Are you with the slavers?">

A challenge. Set me free, die, or get out of my way. A simple enough concept for Thal.
 
MANAS


DESERT TOWN

It seemed Pirates were good for business.

The freighter began to descend in an entirely vertical fashion. It's landing gear jutting out of the area in which it was previously concealed, at the ready to bear the weight of the vessel as it touched down upon the sand. The scorching sunlight beamed down upon the durasteel exterior, reflecting off of the odd bit of shine that existed. In truth, it wasn't a particularly well-kept freighter. It only had to get it's crew from A to B, and it had been more than capable of that so far.

With a hiss and blow of steam the ramp of the freighter lowered, extending itself into the sand as it pushed what bit of it was present aside. The members aboard moved out one at a time, yet the third and the fourth stood on either side of a crate that hovered with a whir. What was inside was surely nothing legal, but it wasn't as if many things here were. The buyers didn't seem to be all that concerned either.

Each man was armed with a simple blaster, and maybe a hint of protective clothing. Kole shuffled his feet across the stands, permanently squinting as the fireball at the center of the galaxy bore down on him. His hands moved by his side, occasionally colliding with his blaster that rest within it's holster, eyeing off any prospective scavengers, or thieves. One glare was all it took. Something wild in the man's eyes. Yet still, he was entirely distracted- still incapable of fathoming what he saw on Shusugaunt, and whether what he believed to of seen was real or not.

A Galaxy full of surprises, twists and turns. Lose sight of where you are, and you won't know which way is up.



 

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