Private In My Time Of Need

[Kel Qyr Savuk]

The grass swayed with a direct purpose as the wind brushed across the field. It was a special kind of beauty Epica had, something that seemed all too familiar to Kel, yet intensely alien. The sun seemed so set in the sky, so clear. Kalee had never been like that, growing up. It was a jungle, literally and figuratively. Kel made his living based on how kind his homeworld would be to him that day, and by how many blessings Qymean Jai Sheelal granted him. Even now though, in a distant world far from home, he made his life worthwhile by hunting what the land gave him.

His reptilian eye narrowed, looking through the scope of his rifle, the herd of orbaks only four hundred meters away. He'd been stalking them for a good while, trying to reach the perfect position. Luckily, he found himself on a low, but an elevated hill. The grass still swayed, intenser it seemed as he readied to fire. He'd never killed an orbak, come to think of it, the Kaleesh had never actually seen one before. He wasn't new to the galaxy, he'd been traveling for over three years now. But the places he found still seemed to surprise him, and the taste certain creatures offered up still managed to impress.

At that moment, the world seemed to stand still, only moving as his finger squeezed the trigger. When the bolt of blue energy shot from the blaster, a whirling howl came from the weapon as well. In an instant, most of the orbaks were scattered, except for one. It lay in the grass, a smoking hole right in the side of its neck. A clean kill, he thought to himself. Slowly getting up, he quickly paced down the body of the beast, prepared to haul it off to his secluded camp.

Jhon "Grim" Grimark

 

[Jhon "Grim" Grimark]

Kel Qyr Savuk

The report of the blaster carried through the hills, echoing through the trees... Marking a death.

Though who's, Jhon couldn't be quite sure.

For nearly two days, he'd spurred his beast of burden onward - on a hunt of his own. But his quarry was something far more dangerous & unpredictable than the creatures of the wild which roamed the Epican Wilderness. His quarry walked on two legs, carried a blaster, and had already killed two of Yharwod's precious Orbaks. Whomever it was hunting on their land, the Sentient was skilled - covering his tracks well and leaving little of his kills to be found. Jhon had inspected each, noting the tell-tale signs of blaster scoring on what flesh & bone remained as well as signs the beautiful creatures had been butchered for their meat.

It didn't bother him that the poacher was hungry. Jhon knew what it was like to starve.

What bothered him was that it had been indiscriminate.

The creatures that had been killed had not been weak or elderly; had not been wounded, or left to die by their herds.

The Orbaks trusted Yharwod's farm-hands; knew them by smell, by sight. Only a few of the Marshals could approach the wild beasts and not be either gored by their sharp tusks, stomped to death by their massive hooves, or cause a stampede of destruction. Whoever this was, poaching on Yharwod's land, they were a stranger...

and neither Jhon, nor his Marshals, were willing to let that lie.

So, the former Pathfinder had struck off on his own, mounting up on his own Orbak and armed with one of the Farm's trusty rifles and his own razor-sharp hunting knife, and gone out a-hunting.

Now, as the late afternoon sun burned high in the sky, Yharwod's Chief of Security jabbed his spurred heels into his steed's side, and quickened his pace. The creature knew what game was afoot; they'd played it often enough in the past that the intelligent beast wouldn't buck at the sound of gunfire or turn at the scent of blood. Together, they had formed a partnership born on the wild frontier...

And today, they would add another quarry to their growing list.​

 

[Kel Qyr Savuk]

The fire crackled and popped as the juices fell from the roasting thigh of the creature. Kel turned the spit over and over again, making sure to get all sides to a somewhat edible state. He'd eaten many of these creatures, these orbaks, over the time he'd been here. despite this familiarity with the beasts, he couldn't tell when exactly they were safe to eat. Some species could be eaten completely raw, although they typically weren't. That said, Kel wasn't going to chance it, even if he was curious. Finally, the thigh looked done. "Sometimes I miss civilization." He muttered to himself. Yet here he was, on a small cliff, roasting orbak.

He lifted his mask, taking a bite of meat. It wasn't the best he'd eaten, but it wasn't the worst. He placed it down on the wooden plate in front of him, something he'd fashioned from a log he came across. He sat there, crossed-legged, thinking hard about his next move. His hand laced up and down the barrel of his rifle, instinctively. He needed to leave this planet, soon. He'd be an idiot if he hadn't taken notice of his actions. The locals were becoming wise. He hoped his hunting wasn't causing too much trouble for these folk, although he felt that it was.

His eyes shot open, and his grip on the barrel tightened. Someone was near. He didn't know close, but near. He listened closely, the sound was familiar. It was the sound of orbak hooves. He relaxed only slightly. By now, the creatures had learned to avoid him. This was highly irregular. Quickly, he took hold of his rifle, dashing up the hill, making sure not to give those below, sight of him. When satisfied with the height he was at, he crouched, moving to the edge of the cliff. He was concealed in the grass, but not hidden. The most blatant giveaway was the barrel of a blaster rifle that stuck out of the grass, aiming down. It was sloppy, he knew that. But he had only just heard the one approaching. "Hunter, maybe?" He muttered, looking down at the figure atop an orbak.

He nodded. "Hunter, definitely." Just not the type he was.

Jhon "Grim" Grimark

 

[Jhon "Grim" Grimark]

The most blatant giveaway was the barrel of a blaster rifle that stuck out of the grass, aiming down. It was sloppy, he knew that.

Stillness.

A gentle breeze gathered in the distance, passing through the lush canopy of trees like a sigh of breath. Any sound of approaching hoof-beats had faded away, and seconds ticked by - resulting in a near-return to the sensation of total peace that these wild frontier lands so famously held dear. To the trained hunter, one might have noticed the total absence of animal noise; no warbling birds flitting about in the distance, and no rustling of leaves as larger animals trambled through the brambles of the dark undergrowth at the edge of the treeline.

Suddenly, a booming crack erased any semblance of peace as somewhere in the treeline, only a hundred meters away, a large-bore rifle thundered.
The slug streaked across the short distance, striking with surgical precision - slamming into the barrel of the protruding rifle and tearing it from the grip of the poacher who held it. With immense force, the long-blaster was ripped from the hands of the entrenched lone hunter and sent spiraling into the air - nearly tumbling over the cliff-side and down the steep embankment. Only a small clump of stones and branches stopped it from being lost forever...

Jhon worked the lever on his powerful Enrico rifle, sending the spent shell spiraling into the dirt a few feet away, then settled himself once more - peering through the scope of the rifle at his target. If the poacher (Kel Qyr Savuk) made a move for the the rifle, then Jhon would deliver a second shot - but somehow, the burly former soldier suspected his quarry would choose discretion over aggression.

If his adversary chose not to make a move for a weapon, the Marshal would push himself up from the dirt, rise to his feet, and step out of the treeline where he could be seen. He kept the rifle low; his posture relaxed - the leisurely readiness of a man all-too familiar with gun-play.

His left hand would raise in a silent greeting; showing he was willing to talk.
​

 

[Kel Qyr Savuk]

Kel fell back as the rifle flew from his hands. He hit the ground hard, sending a bolt of pain up his back, but for the most part, he felt nothing, the shock kept most of it at bay. It happened suddenly, without warning, the same way the Kaleesh himself acted in the hunt. Slowly, as the shock subsided, he lifted himself from the ground, breathing hard. It had knocked the wind from his lungs. Still surrounded by the tall grass, he looked down at the rider.

There they stood, a hand raised in the air, a signal that Kel more than understood. His eyes scanned the area, quickly finding where his rifle now lay. The rider had shot precisely, with skill and accuracy. This was the kind of training that only soldiers have, the kind that is unique and special, something that gives an edge. This one is an Izvoshra, Kel thought. They were a hunter, like him.

His eyes softened, only slightly. Slowly, he stood from his crouched position. He laughed to himself it was barely audible, but if you listened, you could hear it. This man, this hunter, had gained the Kaleesh's respect. It takes a keen mind to not take life immediately. Something that so few did. He had to be honest with himself, he had considered pulling the trigger. But this one showed a lot more restraint. He looked back at the camp down the cliff, plenty of meat left.

He raised a hand as well, returning the greeting of the other. But unlike the rider, he spoke as well. "Izvoshra!" He yelled out, "Are you hungry?"

Jhon "Grim" Grimark

 

[Jhon "Grim" Grimark]

(Ghost Of The Mountain, J.J.)

​

"Izvoshra!" He yelled out, "Are you hungry?"

The words carried on the breeze, reaching the Marshal's ears and eliciting the slightest change of expression; the corner of his lip turned upward in a glimmer of a smile. Taking the offer as a sign his offer of a parlay had been accepted, Jhon stepped forward - beginning to climb the slight incline toward the smoking campfire & the scent of roasting meat.

His quarry would see, glittering in the late afternoon sunlight, a silver star-like emblem pinned to the front of the approaching human's black leather coat. Another symbol, this one smaller, hexagonal-shaped & colored gold with a series of lines and three stars, was clipped to the left lapel; a symbol of rank, no doubt - but of what was unclear. A black rancher's hat covered his head, a pair of faded denim jeans clothed his powerful legs, and a well-manicured full beard (tinged a subtle brown from trail-dust) covered his rugged face. A pair of black boots crunched in the dirt & loose stones as the Lawman trudged up the hill, but his gait seemed wholly unhurried. The rifle he carried was cradled in his arms & would remain there; visible, but non-threatening. Attached to his belt, a worn leather scabbard clearly contained a large-bladed hunting knife with a bone handle of indeterminate origin capped in brass, and beneath his coat, the tell-tale bulge of a sidearm would be obvious.

The two beings would meet near the impromptu cooking fire.

The human stood a few paces away, relaxed... but clearly cautious. Dark, steely-blue eyes regarded the other being in a way which would seem both friendly & apathetic in equal measure. He was silent for a moment, glancing in the direction of the crackling flames, then returned his steely gaze to the Kaleesh. When he finally spoke, his tone was conversational:

"Couldn't have picked a better spot for a camp. Good view. The wind'll carry that scent for kilometers. Orbak, though..." He pulled a face, giving a slight one-sided shrug. "There's plenty of cattle down in the valley. Why Orbak?"

For a man who'd only, just a few minutes before, delivered a marksman's shot, he spoke as-if he were greeting an old friend rather than a total stranger.

Kel Qyr Savuk
​

 

[Kel Qyr Savuk]

Before long, the two would convene at the campsite, Kel retrieving his rifle, and Jhon making the steep climb. While he did hunt from afar, Kel did have a code of honor. He would never shoot someone who showed such skill, not someone he respected.

"There's plenty of cattle down in the valley. Why Orbak?"

Crouched on the ground, Kel sat there, pulling some of the meat from the bone and putting it in one of his bowls, then the question hit him, why Orbak? He stopped what he was doing, thinking about the question. There were plenty of reasons, logical ones at least. He shrugged, "Their hair can be used for a lot of things. It's good for colder nights and can be quite soft when cleaned right. They're big creatures, have a lot of meat on their bones. And of course," He paused, picking up an ivory fork-looking thing, "Tough horns can be used for a lot of things. Not to mention the leather their skins make, one of the best bags I've ever made."

He smiled under the mask. He was always proud of his handy work, making use of everything a carcass gave. He liked to think his father taught him well, yes, Jickela would be proud. He reached into his vest, pulling out a flask. Unscrewing the top, he poured a dark liquid onto the meat. It was a mixture of fermented berries, and spices he had. Quite frankly put, it was alcohol. But, it did make a great sauce as well, adding a bit of sweetness to the food. Putting the bowl on the ground, he slid it to Jhon.

"But the main reason I choose the 'Orbak', if that's what they're called, is because I didn't want to deprive you and your people of food. I know what my hunting does, and I know how bad it can hit. There are other things I could've hunted, but they're a bit more violent. So, I choose the next best thing. I apologize, but I would do it again."

Kel had nothing to hide, he knew he'd be caught eventually. He had hoped to leave this planet before that happened but it looked like he'd failed in that department. "Aye, what can you do?" He bit into another piece of meat, putting the rest on his plate.

Jhon "Grim" Grimark

 

[Jhon "Grim" Grimark]

Still cradling the hunting rifle, the man listened - stoicly paying attention to every motion the Kaleesh made. His dark eyebrows flexed upward at the application of the dark sauce, and he sniffed - catching the familiar scent of herbs Yharwod's very own cooks often used to season roasts & ribs. The fire hissed & sputtered as a few drops of the alcoholic mixture fell into the greedy flames.

Jhon said nothing, listening politely as the Kaleesh explained his reason for hunting the way he did. After a moment's pause, Jhon bent down - retrieving the bowl of steaming meat from the ground and resting the Enrico rifle against his leg. He took another sniff, finding the scent much more palatable than he'd first assumed. Clearly, this being had a knack for trail-food. He hadn't taken a bite, though he could feel his stomach turning somersaults.
​

"Aye, what can you do?" He bit into another piece of meat, putting the rest on his plate.

"Ask you politely to stop." Jhon said, reaching with two fingers on his opposite hand & picking at the chunk to test its temperature.

"You're trespassing on Yharwod land, killing our animals. I'm afraid I can't just let that lie."

His steely blue eyes rested heavily on the Kaleesh, the muscles in his right arm tensing imperceptibly for sudden action... but he didn't move, instead choosing (against his better judgement, for the second time that day) to choose diplomacy over violence.

"Do you have any other place to go?"

Kel Qyr Savuk
​

 

[Kel Qyr Savuk]

He listened to the other man as he ate. The man was right, he was trespassing. But in fairness to Kel, he didn't know he was trespassing when he first crashed on this planet. Then felt something, a draw of some kind, a pull. His eyes shifted suddenly from the plate to the man's arm. He seemed poised, like a predator ready to pounce. The Kaleesh didn't know what drew him to his arm, but it felt dangerous in some way. It was strange, a gut feeling that this stranger meant to harm, but it suddenly vanished under a sea of feelings.

"Do you have any other place to go?"

He looked from his arm to him, thinking briefly, then down to the plate again. Kalee called him, in his mind he felt the jungle air and his father's voice. There was something deeply desired in Kel, a desire to go back. But he wouldn't. His dreams and his premonitions were worse in his home village, and many of his kinsmen viewed it as a bad omen. While some thought he was a prophet, others saw something much more dangerous. But in the end, it was his father who kept him truly away. Jickela had told him not to return, that he would be in danger if decided to stay.

But then he started to consider what kind of person he was becoming. On Tatooine, he was on the brink of no return, losing so much of the code that his people drilled into him. He couldn't allow that, and he thanked this planet, this place, for the healing it had given him.

He sighed, putting the bowl down, "I don't have anywhere else," he said, somberly, "I imagine I'll just keep drifting until I either find what I'm looking for or fade into dust." He looked off across the cliffside, the sun was setting.

"I'm a bad man, Izvoshra. I've done bad things. I'm a disgrace to my family and an outcast to my people. Where else is there, but a cliff on some planet?" He motioned to the land around him. He looked down at the flask in his hand, thinking about taking a drink.

Jhon "Grim" Grimark

 

[Jhon "Grim" Grimark]

​

"I'm a bad man, Izvoshra. I've done bad things. I'm a disgrace to my family and an outcast to my people. Where else is there, but a cliff on some planet?"

Jhon picked up a small chunk of the Orbak meat between his thumb & fore-finger, biting into it... finding himself shocked at the flavor. It was still Orbak, of course... gristly, a bit tough, but more palatable than he'd expected. His eyebrows flexed upward, the expression barely discernible...

He had to admit as he chewed & swallowed. He was impressed.

He picked up the remaining chunk of meat before angling the bowl with his other hand - flinging the juice at the bottom of the bowl into the dirt then stuffing the mouthful between his teeth. The hot chunk of meat stung the roof of his mouth and he breathed, but bit down; quickly consuming the morsel like any Roughneck on the trail might hurriedly finish a snack. As he ate, he was silent... evaluating the individual seated on his haunches a few feet away.

The small wooden bowl landed in the dirt near the circle of flames.

"Well," Jhon said, retrieving the rifle from where it had rested on his leg... but instead of moving aggressively, his body-language was casual. "I ain't a good man neither... but I know what it's like to be alone on the trail. I know what it's like to go hungry." From below the brim of his hat, his hardened eyes regarded his companion coolly. "Truth is, I've never had Orbak like that 'afore in my life, and-"

He was about to say something, but suddenly - filtering up from the trees at the bottom of the hill, a faint cry reached his ears. It sounded like a whinnying snarl - the sound an Orbak made when it felt threatened. The sound of a warning.

The big man's body language immediately changed as he swiveled, turning his back on the individual he'd only just met (and up until a few minutes before, had considered a likely enemy). The Enrico was held crossways across the big man's chest and his balance shifted as he squared up; clearly ready to shoulder the rifle.

It was then that three things happened at once:

First, the whinnying snarl that signaled an Orbak-in-distress changed to a high-pitched bark followed by the sudden unmistakable noise of hoof-beats which began to move away - further into the trees.

Secondly, a series of howls - high-pitched & angry - began, rose quickly in volume, then reached a crescendo... originating in two separate directions.

and third, at the very bottom of the hill, both men would see a sight that would've made even the most hardened Hunter's blood run cold: a hump-backed, dark, hunched-over shape stepped out of the tree-line at the very bottom of the hill, lifted its snout, and loudly sniffed. The creature stood almost five feet tall at the shoulder & strode forward on four stubby legs which each ended in a dirty, mud-stained hoof. The Boar-Wolf, one of Epica's non-native Predators delivered to the world for sport by its richer citizens, let out a barking howl... a signal to its kin that it had found what they'd come searching for.

The call was immediately answered by others, somewhere within the dense underbrush beyond the tree-line.

Kel Qyr Savuk would hear the big man utter a single word before Jhon tucked the rifle into the pocket of his shoulder & took aim:

"Fuck."

​