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[Wedge Draav]

OUTLAWS

DEAD MAN WALKING• ARKANIA SPACEPORT, SHADOWPORT KNIFE'S EDGE• WATCH OUT, SOMETHINGS OFF

Wedge fluttered his eyes open. The journey here, had been very taxing. Flying without a Droid had it's advantages, but too many. But he was now more than ever, right to avoid using one. Sith patrols here were often and plentiful, and Arkania was probably high up on their shitlist of places to hit next.

Rightfully, too.

Wedge was supposed to be guarding a new route from the Shadowport here, from Arkania along the back of a hyperlane to reach Coruscant. He'd nearly gotten killed on Nal Hutta getting away with the mapping plan. The plans were probably only good for a few weeks at most, the Sith were constantly, constantly shifting patrol patterns, Star Destroyer routes, the works. Smuggling was bad for them, and Wedge had caused a lot of damage inside the deep core.

But this mission felt different. Eight ships, three places to go inside. He'd guide them far enough in, and duck out and return back to safety at the shadowport once they were decently undetected. Smuggling in Sith space was even riskier, this time they were taking in weapons to dissenters. Wedge had a meeting in thirty minutes with the other Captains and Crew Members, final vetting and final planning. The weapons they were carrying were small arms and ammunition, enough to start at least, a minor rebellion and cause a good amount of damage to an Imperial garrison and keep the Sith that much more occupied.

Something, however, felt off. The weather was decently warm and the lights were good- the temperature controlled area meant that he wouldn't be facing Arkania's brutal cold. He pushed off of the metal container he was leaning on, and began to walk. However, all that training, all that pesky experience, kicked in. Some of the Shadowport denizens and ne'er-do-wells he passed looked... off.

Some were too clean. Some were too well groomed. Showered, even. He was clean as a whistle himself, but his hair and outfit gave it away. He carried a pistol, communicators, a wristwatch, not a lot of comms gear... but these new guys. Seemed too sharp. Faded haircuts. Muscles at the back and at the shoulders.

Who the hell were these guys...?

Wedge kept walking, and drew another cigarette from his pocket. A particular silver casing- stolen, engraved. Galidraani. He tapped the cigarette on the tin after removing it, and popped it in. He had a brief thought, of wondering where, what the owner of his stolen cigarette case would be doing. But he had a task to focus on, task to keep him... occupied. But the Shadowport felt off. And he wasn't the only one feeling it. So as he walked to the hangar to meet with the other Captains a single thought crossed into his mind-

Who the hell were those guys?

 

[Calliope]

HUNTING OUTLAWS
Wedge Draav

Nearby – Concealed Location Calliope seethed and paced relentlessly in the tiny space that was the cargo container. The mercenary captain, a rough-looking human around 50 years old, had an air of ease that annoyed her even more. He was seated at the desk that took up the majority of the already cramped space, and he had the stink of traveler who'd forgotten what a bath was. She never bothered to learn his name. She stopped suddenly, her colourful robes whirling about her as she turned to face him. "Are they in position?" Calliope asked, her gravelly hoarse voice was muffled slightly by the golden mask she never removed. The captain's reply was languid, which made her bristle even more. "Yes, just like they were a minute ago and five minutes before that". The man leaned back in his chair and propped his boots on the table. She resisted the urge to throttle him. "Have some faith in my men, Sith. They'll nab your smuggler". Calliope didn't reply, instead she went back to pacing.

Spaceport – Outside Hangar

Calvin took a deep breath and tightened the grip on the stun-baton concealed in his jacket. The back of his scalp tingled as the target walked past right behind him, and he had to resist the urge to look. He swallowed with difficulty, his throat feeling tight all of a sudden as his grip loosened on the stick. A gentle nudge to his left almost made him jump, but it was just from a big mercenary bruiser named Boki. The older man gave him a single nod and Calvin nodded back, a little too quickly. The pair started subtly following the smuggler, trying to stay far enough back without losing sight of the target.

The smuggler was alone, that was good. Calvin ran over the plan in his head one more time. Follow the target, corner him and beat the living daylights out of him. Nothing lethal, the Sith wanted to speak with him personally. He tried and failed to suppress a shiver. Best this went according to plan, he didn't want to get eaten by the Sith or whatever it was she did.

As the smuggler crossed into the hangar and greeted the other Captains, Boki cursed under his breath. He spun Calvin around by the shoulder and the two of them leaned on a nearby wall, just out of earshot. Boki smiled and moved his lips as if speaking to Calvin but in reality, spoke through the mic concealed within his hood. "Multiple targets have grouped together; how do we proceed?" Calvin nodded along, miming a reply as the bruiser awaited the response from the Captain. He felt his stomach twist as Boki grunted "Roger, engaging". His hand was slick with sweat as he once again gripped the baton.

 

[Wedge Draav]

OUTLAWS

DEAD MAN WALKING• ARKANIA SPACEPORT, SHADOWPORT KNIFE'S EDGE• WATCH OUT, SOMETHINGS OFF

Wedge felt the tension rise. He was a good pilot for a lot of reasons, but one of the chief reasons was that he was able to sense danger, able to sniff out problems. That meant someone coming up in your Y axis in the 360 degree battlefield of space- where threats were literally everywhere and anywhere. So his head was quite literally, always on a swivel. Fighting in Zero-G made him hyper-aware, flying all these years without a droid, made Wedge's mind sharp.


But for now, Wedge gripped the hand of one of the Captains. Captain Bruntus, a big Togrutan. Was chomping on a cigar and pointed the cigar at him.

"Wedge Draav, huh? Revenant Squadron guy, right?"

Wedge gave a half-grin and raised both of his hands up slightly above his hips. "Don't tell anyone important..." He said with a grin, taking out one of his own cigarettes.

"Flying in low and fast, boys. Lots of goods on this run. Sith shouldn't be patrolling too much around here.." Bruntus went on, but Wedge couldn't help but turn his head. He was being watched. Sure, the security details of the smugglers was always watching, but that was passive. Smugglers got along for the most part, and the fact that most of them were rebels in fact, meant a great deal.

Wedge spotted a pair conversing away from the group. The hangar wasn't empty, and the gathered smugglers all slowly stopped, turned their heads to where Wedge was looking.

Wedge pointed a finger at the two.

"You guys gonna get in on the meeting or what? If you ain't runnin', scram!"

 

[Calliope]

HUNTING OUTLAWS
Wedge Draav

Nearby – Concealed Location Calliope heard the buzz of static from the captain's earpiece and finally stopped her pacing. She moved toward the man with an unmistaken eagerness. The captain finally looked serious, having placed his feet flat on the floor as he received a report from one of his men in the field. He glanced at the Sith but didn't hold eye contact. "The target has arrived" the captain muttered. "As have a few other people of interest". He swallowed and paused, as if thinking about his next sentence. Calliope's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "We are better off letting them split up again and tailing them individually" the captain suggested, still not looking at the Sith. "I'm not sure I have enough men to apprehend them all". She didn't hesitate with her reply. "No" she said coldly. "Your men will proceed as planned. The smuggler shall be apprehended, and I will interrogate him personally". The captain finally met her gaze. She saw the faintest spark of rebellion in his eyes gutter out. He slumped slightly and picked up the comms. "Cleared to engage, Boki. I'll get you some back-up".

Spaceport – Inside Hangar

"You guys gonna get in on the meeting or what? If you ain't runnin', scram!"

Boki's reply to the smuggler was a loud war cry as the big bruiser sprinted toward the group, brandishing his stun baton above his head. Calvin didn't see the man's collision because he was too busy keeping his head down as he circled around to flank the enemy.

The pounding his heart matched the rhythm of his feet, as he sprinted across the floor of the hangar. He knew back-up would be coming soon, consisting of 4 more undercover mercenaries just as big as Boki. Until then, he just needed to survive.

A blue-skinned Twi'lek was drawing his blaster pistol from his bag when Calvin's baton came down hard on his wrist. The alien swore as the gun was knocked from his hand, and he wheeled around to face the man. His enemy was young, perhaps as young as he was. A small, detached part of Calvin wondered how they'd both ended up like this. While his mind reeled, his body moved automatically - swinging for his opponent's head. But the Twi'lek ducked under the swing, the metal of the baton barely missing a lekku. Caught off-balance, all the mercenary could do was wince as the alien delivered a swift punch to his side. He felt the air explode out of his lungs as a sharp stab of pain rippled across his body.

Both he and the Twi'lek had expected him to fold, but he surprised them both by pivoting around, his weapon outstretched. The stun baton collided with a knee, making loud zap as the device discharged its shock. The alien fell to the ground, screaming, and looked up too late to see the baton coming down atop his head. The was a sickening crunch as Calvin smashed the weapon down atop the blue-skinned head. He gasped for breath; and his own head pounded as he gazed at the Twi'lek slumped unconscious at his feet.

 

[Wedge Draav]

OUTLAWS

DEAD MAN WALKING• ARKANIA SPACEPORT, SHADOWPORT KNIFE'S EDGE• WATCH OUT, SOMETHINGS OFF

Wedge wasn't really one to waste an opportunity. The explosion of violence, the sharpness and quickness of it, surprised him. It also was surprising that these guys, goons as they were, were this brazen, this quick to act.

So, he deduced a few things:

1. They were not Imperial agents.

2. They were paid to take someone alive.

3. He had no idea who they were after.

Every man and woman in the hangar had a bounty, every man in woman had some kind of beef with someone. Government or otherwise. Wedge took a step forward, one of the brutes coming into view. He had just folded one of his compatriots, a Twi'lek named.... he hadn't heard his name, so he had no idea. He was one of the other crewmembers, not a Captain. Probably explained why he was fast on the draw.

Wedge was fast on his feet, though.

Lean, mean, and a fighting machine- he went to attack the man with the baton, low and fast. He didn't go for a punch, he didn't go for a strike- he was a fighter, a dirty one at that. So, he went for a scissor sweep. A dirty, brutal takedown, and illegal in many fighting tournaments. He hoped to at least knock him off balance, and at worst (for his enemy), dislocating a knee or two.

 

[Calliope]

HUNTING OUTLAWS

Spaceport – Inside Hangar

Blood was pounding in Calvin's ears as he took in great gasps of air. He gazed around the hangar in a daze, taking the chaos unfolding in front of him. He watched Boki wrestle one of the targets to the ground, the big man pinning his enemies arms down, only for the mercenary be knocked over by the swift kick of another. Behind him, four more mercenaries swept into the hangar as bystanders started to flee. The back up was armed similarly to him, stun batons held ready as they charged.

Calvin turned back around to find Wedge Draav charging him. He swung his baton at the smuggler, aiming for his head, but his opponent went low and it met only empty air. Wedge performed this bizarre marshal arts move, wrapping a leg behind Calvin's knee. Before he could even register what was going on, he found himself tumbling to the floor. His stun baton was knocked from his grip, and he hit his head on the metal floor. Star danced before his eyes as a shooting pain radiated up from his neck to his temples. All around him he could hear the fighting, but he wasn't sure who was coming out on top.

Nearby – Concealed Location Calliope could hear the fighting from outside her concealed location within the cargo container. She had resumed her pacing; it pleased her to see how it irritated the mercenary captain. The man had brought up camera feed of hangar on a portable terminal, and hadn't stopped swearing since. "Not going well, I take it" Calliope said coldly. The man grunted in affirmation before raising the comms to his mouth. While he barked orders, the Sith leaned over to examine the camera feed. 'The targets are a scrappy bunch it seems' she thought as watched the mercenaries struggle. They had taken out only one of their opponents, meanwhile at least two of them had been knocked to the floor. It was pathetic. She mused for a while, before she spoke. "I'm going out there".

 

[Wedge Draav]

OUTLAWS

DEAD MAN WALKING• ARKANIA SPACEPORT, SHADOWPORT KNIFE'S EDGE• WATCH OUT, SOMETHINGS OFF

All around him he could hear the fighting, but he wasn't sure who was coming out on top.

Wedge pulled out his sidearm from his shoulder holster, and put the Disruptor not quite on his temple, but right on it- just an inch away. Wedge had experienced a lot, gotten some firearms training recently. It was not wise to put the weapon right against someone's body- too many variables. But with a Disruptor, there was room for error. Mainly that even with the small pistols, they were able to vaporize most of the target they hit.

His weapon didn't have a safety. It was removed, like most gunslingers and outlaws. Wedge was now a rebel, and he had to act like it. Wedge didn't wax poetic. Didn't ask him who he was. Didn't ask him what he was doing here. The man wanted to come after Wedge.

So Wedge didn't take any chances, in the skies or space and certainly not on the ground. So, he pulled the trigger. He'd become more ruthless recently, more violent, more capable in some ways. Unhinged, some would call it.

Reima would call it a reason.