On the Scent

[Lord Ajihad]

Allies: [member="Varren Krizs"] [member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Marcus Lok"] [member="Atton Korvas"]

Enemies: [member="Knight K'sara"]

K'sara Korr. Lord Ajihad had faced her before, during a duel on Selvaris. He had eventually won, taking her hand in his coupe de grace. However, it had been a taxing fight, as he was in bed sleeping for a day or two after. However, she had defected from the Sith, and now, she was being hunted.

He was on board an unmarked, unidentifiable frigate with a small crew of bounty hunters, one of which was a slicer as well. If anyone scanned the ship, they would see it belonged to a rich couple who enjoyed exploring the deepest reaches of space. That is, before they were silenced, bodies hidden away.

They had all joined the Triad, the criminal syndicate run by no other than the Demon's Fist himself. However, his identity was not known to his crewmates. They knew him only as Rhodes, a Sith of unknown rank or species. He even had a voice changer to make sure none knew his identity.

He was dressed in his usual battle attire of all black, including his light full-body stealth suit and balaclava. Of course, this suit was made to adapt to any climate. He was equipped with an arsenal of weapons and gadgets, plenty enough to capture the rogue Sith.

"Ok, men. We need to find this lady. Marcus, you found anything yet?" His voice sounded robotic (Like Darth Vader) as it rolled across the ship's deck.

 

[Varren Krizs]

Varren shouldered his thermal detonator launcher and drew his beam rifle. Apparently they were hunting a Jedi. He didn't know why some average Joe named Rhodes was after a Jedi. Must've wronged him or something. Not that Varren cared. As long as he wasn't dead and his accounts were filled with creds he didn't care who he had to murder. These other bounty hunters would be interesting to work with. Varren mostly flew solo, but he enjoyed company. He was a very sociable person and liked to be in social environments.

"Hey, you guys ever seen Twi'Lek's head explode from a kilometer away? I have. It was glorious to say the least." Varren spoke over the radio, "Not gonna lie, at first I was a little sick to my stomach, but then I was like 'that was awesome!' after I saw little bits of matter spray out of his head...too much information?"

The bounty hunter adjusted his thermal imaging goggles and strapped on a white cloak, "I hear Hoth is quite nice this time of year, and the native Wampa's are great to foreigners. Did you guys pack extra socks?"

 

[Marcus Lok]

"Nothing yet... Decrypting this thing is going to take some time, ya know."

Marcus slowly typed away at the datapad that he had been given to crack. All he knew was that there was information on it... Possibly a transmission from their target or otherwise... It was a well coded system, that was for sure, and he was having a hard time getting anywhere with the device. Security wall after security wall... It was tedious work, and he was being payed well to do it. At least he hoped he was...

His tools sat in a neat little kit beside him and it was where he kept it all. Computer spikes, code scramblers, even good old lock picks. Hopefully this was not going to take long... He didn't want to disappoint.

 

[Vaak Lest]

By Dorin's karking foot, this planet is Hell...

Vaak Lest was tall and muscular, even for Kel Dorian standards. Some may even call him a giant, but that would be a bit of an exaggeration. Standing a mighty 6'8", a couple of heads higher than the average alien, he was certainly a heavyweight.

Despite his intimidating appearance, Vaak was a well-mannered alien who understood that some situations were best taken with no trigger-pulling and nose-breaking, though he enjoyed to do that to...some of the people he had worked for before. The life of a vagabond mercenary is not a pleasant one.

The giant alien had heard from a drinking friend on Bastion about one of those freaky cult-like Sith people forming a group of criminals and bounty hunters to make some money. It was an offer Lest could not refuse. He had done no good working as a vagabond, wandering around taking odd jobs for about a year after escaping his old street fighting gang's demise at the hands of, ironically, bounty hunters working for Dorin lawmen.

How lucky Lest was that there was a starship he could pilot nearby to escape death for the hundredth time in his life.

Street fighting with thugs and punks in the shanties and ghettos of Dorin helped Vaak build himself into the giant he is today. Beating men, sometimes even skilled women, whom he had a bone to pick with, or just for the thrill of a fight with nothing more than a vibroknife or knuckles. In doing so, it inspired Vaak to strengthen his once lanky, long body into a hulking mass of muscle. Vaak Lest dominated his enemies in hand-to-hand combat with a cunning mix of brute force and skill.

But no man in this galaxy gets paid to fight with his bare hands, so he got a blaster from an older man claiming to be an ex wookie hunter. Apparently the black market likes wookie pelts. Vaak was given Rage, because even a man who can dent a gundark's skull with one punch needs to shoot someone someday.

So here he is now, worrying that someone might steal his starship, Legacy, from the spaceport he left it in to fly on this...thing that Rhodes called a 'frigate' all the way to the outermost regions of the galaxy to temperatures that would freeze the blood of a krayt dragon.

Karking Hoth. This trip better not be a waste of my time.

Vaak pulled on a grey-white duster coat with a collar made from nerf wool and a layer of tauntaun pelt. Certainly felt comfortable. He hoped it was warm. That was really all that mattered. It even has a hood to keep his bare head from forming ice crystals. Rage sat firmly in the holster on Vaak's belt, which carried a concealable knife that was...manufactured for cutting the tape off of boxes. It was not very good, but why not? Maybe an alien with skin as thin as packing tape would try to kill the group.

Because a blaster would just be useless against that.

Vaak didn't say a word to his other comrades he found himself working with. Mostly because he didn't want them to think of him as 'That rookie bounty hunter'. He preferred 'That quite giant who looks at me like he wants to break me in half'.

After gearing up with nerf wool clothing to stay warm, making sure Rage was loaded, and listening to this guy try to pull hilarious one-liners to bring up morale and make the group of hunters forget they were on planet Hell-Froze-Over, and an MT-U14 Carbon Trap for capturing this Rogue they were after, Vaak paced around, making loud thuds on the ship's deck with his big feet. The mask he wore, normal to all kel dor's while not on their homeworld, made his breathing sound heavy and uncomfortable. It wasn't, it just sounded that way.

I can't wait to leave this planet.

[member="Varren Krizs"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Atton Korvas"] | [member="Knight K'sara"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"]

 

[Atton Korvas]

The Courier wasn't the most sociable smuggler in the galaxy. He stood beside the large Kel'dor, arms folded, completely silent without the slightest movement.

When he was approached by a suspicious being about a new crime syndicate led by some dark side cult, he couldn't have cared less about joining them, even though the pay was somewhat higher than what the Hutt Cartel would offer. They were just another group of misfits and ne'er-do-wells who united under a so-called Sith...well, that was what he thought, at least.

He was quite surprised when he was offered a job—some sort of kidnapping, to be precise. What surprised him was the fact that the target wasn't a regular, defenseless being, as he expected, but a Jedi Knight. These guys had bollocks of steel to go after a Jedi in the early days of their little faction. The pay was decent, and the Courier had decided to join them, partially out of curiosity about whether they were half as good as they claimed to be, but also because of the credits he'd receive.

He looked at the men he'd be working with. The Kel'dor was a rather menacing figure, which could be an advantage. They also had a slicer and a comedian, along with that mysterious man—Rhodes, as he called himself. Well, what could go wrong?

"Perhaps we should get you acquainted with the local wildlife then, eh? I'm sure they're waiting with open arms, maybe they even brewed you some tea," he responded to Varren without turning his head.

 

[K'sara]

Location: Hoth
Objective: History lesson, Training, Battle.


Allies: [member="Willa Isard"], Tauntaun
Enemies: Wampas


Landing in the Corellian Corvette that she owned for her and her padawans (and skillfully fitted with a training room), K'sara went into her quarters and started to insert insulation into her armor, while it would make her appear busty in comparison to the standard C-cups she had, she would need the extra protection from the elements, as Force Protect would surely only last so long before ice blasts her and her Padawan's faces. "Willa, we've arrived at Echo Base. Get warm... this planet is karking cold. I would rather not lose both my lover and my student to such a fate as being turned into a ice pop."

As she said that, she strapped herself up with blasters galore. Some of the artillery would have been able to make a Mando drop their Bes'kar and bow in submission just to be able to own one. She placed her lightsaber in her breasts and signaled Willa to do the same. "If the button gets too cold, the activation mechanism might jam." Two arms pulled the other female to her in a hug. "And one more thing... Don't die on me... Should we make it through this.. it would mean we were meant." Finally a quick peck on the lips would occur, and K'sara would leave to go make sure everything was satisfactory on board.

 

[Varren Krizs]

[member="The Courier"] [member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Marcus Lok"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Knight K'sara"]

Varren gave a laugh, "I'm not one for Wampa tea. I imagine it would have blood and bone in it. And neither of those things do any favors for my sensitive stomach if you know what I mean..."

Well, this was off to a good start, but Varren was ready to have his boots on the ground. He was in a mood, and his mood was one of those "I-need-to-kill-something-before-I-go-nuts" types of moods. Varren tinkered with his rifle as he looked at the Kel'Dor. Wowee he was a big boy. What did they put in his food in school?

"Hey, Kel'Dor... what's that crab looking thing on your face," Varren asked, mockingly. Varren wasn't always a douche, but part of his humor was his sarcastic and cocky attitude. "And what do they call you, smuggler? And who's this Rhodes guy anyway? Does anybody know when we are getting off this tin can?"

Sure, his constant nagging would be annoying, but every good team needed a comedian. Plus, he had enough confidence for all of them, he might even fly wingman for this ugly Kel'Dor if the hulking alien ever got the chance to go on a date. Varren knew how to get serious brownie points. He took off his helmet and sat it next to him. Slowly, Krizs popped every one of his vertebrae, then proceeded to pop his knuckles and his shoulders. No matter how cold the ice and snow on Hoth was, his warm and hearty spirit kept his vitality up. He was young, brash, and foolish, but those were some of his best character traits. And as long as he was getting paid, he didn't care who he worked for or who he killed. But, of course a Jedi wouldn't go down without a fight. This wasn't some Padawan either. She was a Jedi Knight. Hopefully this fledgling group of bounty hunters would be able to outgun the Jedi. If all else failed, Varren wasn't opposed to using his charm and good looks to get out of near-death encounters with attractive females.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Allies: [member="The Courier"] [member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Marcus Lok"] [member="Varren Krizs"]
Enemies: [member="Knight K'sara"] [member="Willa Isard"]


Rhodes knew that this mission relied much on surprise, at least to ensure his quarry did not escape him. That being said, he took a moment to shrink his force signature. Therefore, when he approached his force-sensitive target, she would not detect his presence in the force. After the short task was finished, he took a moment to observe his crew through the black balaclava. They were certainly diverse bunch, to say the least. Whether or not they were good hunter material was yet to be seen.

He stood up, leaving the ship in orbit above Hoth. They had tracked K'sara this far, only to lose her to the frozen planet. He sighed, hoping the Jedi had not succumbed to the cold. His employer would be rather upset if she wasn't returned to him alive. He retreated to his captain's quarters, where he would be fine-tuning his weaponry, making sure it was ready for the soon-to-come battle. The crew would wait around for Marcus to slice the datapad, which would hopefully be soon. Just as he was about to exit the main area, he heard Varren's remark about his identity. He turned around slowly, then spoke, "I would not delve into matters beyond your depth, young hunter." Without waiting for a response, the Sith exited the main deck, and made for his cabin.

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus cursed as he accidentally dropped one of the code scramblers that he was working with. The entire process was very arduous and, he had to admit, was trying his skills a bit. This was no ordinary lock and code system, this was a coded message. This was his most advanced code scrambling device, and if it didn't work... Well...

His hands began to sweat as he heard a slight beeping begin to emit from the scrambler to signal it's activation and then a slight whirring as it hacked into the system. The other devices had done their jobs, and now it was just the last lock to be breached and they would have their message. He could remember doing the process on Mandalore... The enclave's instructors had taught him to perform these simple hacks on a wide array of devices and he thanked them for their devotion to him learning the art every day.

Their group was fairly rough and tumble and it was quite apparent who had decided to fill the typical rolls. He liked the comedian the best. Even if he was nagging the crew, it kept things active as opposed to just the standard old get in get out attitude. No reason that they couldn't have a bit of fun while doing it. The Kel'Dor was a different story. Tall and stalking, he was an imposing figure to everyone on the ship and Marcus hardly knew whether to trust him or fear him! Probably both. The last of their small contingent that would soon be freezing their moons on the surface below was the smuggler. The smuggler seemed much like the Kel'Dor, save for the fact that he was miniscule in direct comparison to him. And then there was their phantasmic leader, Rhodes. He seemed like your average mysterious cryptic guy with a hidden agenda... And he didn't do much to portray anything different.

He was just about to acknowledge the quip about Wampa Tea when he heard a sudden series of chirps from the datapad and, just like that, the system was unlocked. He reviewed the information and nodded to himself before standing and waving the pad at the rest of the group.

"Got the info! She's definately planning to meet with someone on the surface, it's time to hit the powder... Check your pads, I'm sending the coordinates to each one of you."

He smiled at his handiwork once more before putting the pad back into his pack. His winter gear was much like the rest of them, multiple layers of wool that went over his armor, and a thick white jacket to top it all off. His pack carried the essentials, extra ammunition, rations, the usual things one might carry when heading down to a barren wasteland for an extended period of time. One sigh, and he hefted the backpack over his shoulder and then walked off towards the joker of a man who stood amongst the others as the boss walked off into the bowels of the ship.

"I thought he was going to go all Coruscant on you for a second there..."

After that short statement, he gave him a punch to the arm and walked off towards the shuttle bay, donning his helmet.



[member="The Courier"] [member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Varren Krizs"] [member="Lord Ajihad"]

 

[Willa Isard]

[member="Knight K'sara"]

There was a look at her master as Willa stood there. The Jericho armor closing up as she secured the leviathan hood over her mask. The cloak wrapping around the armor and blending to some of the sections of the ship. "Understood master." She was a vahla, her warmth something easy to secure while she was standing there tall and at the ready with a hand securing the field pistol and her smg. Then she was holding her masters saber the woman had given her to train with before she was moving her rifle to stand behidn her master. "I'll keep you warm, one of the perks of being a vahla master, we can stay warm on this planet of ice." She was looking at the sonic shotgun and underbarrel attachments they had for the weapons while going.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

As Rhodes was preparing to enter his quarters, his personal datapad beeped. He quickly read the message, and the coordinates attached. He gave a rare smile. It seemed Marcus was already beginning to prove his worth.

He strode back into the room he had just left, an aura of command surrounding him. "Alright men, time to earn your pay. I will mostly play the part of an observer, seeing how you all do against a real challenge. There's a drop ship waiting in the hangar, preparing to take us down to the surface. Meet me there in thirty minutes sharp. And please bring winter gear, I don't want any of our fellowship freezing to death in the frozen plains." With that note, he left the room, preparing to make final preparations for their mission.

[member="Willa Isard"] [member="Knight K'sara"] [member="Marcus Lok"] [member="The Courier"] [member="Varren Krizs"] [member="Vaak Lest"]

 

[Vaak Lest]

"Hey, Kel'Dor... what's that crab looking thing on your face?"

How many times are people going to ask me that question...?

Vaak turned to the 'comedian' of the group and scoffed, not saying a word to him and proceeding over to his dufflebag he brought on board from Legacy. He opened the zipper and removed a small watch-like item, attaching it to his left wrist. It appeared to be an older-model datapad that was just barely modernized enough to receive messages. He got it off of a homeless beggar starving to death on the street back on Dorin. Shanties were a hell of a place. The old beggar was trying to sell it off when some punk twi'leks spat on him and told him it was worthless. While their statement was true, the man turned silent and retreated into whatever hole he lived in after chucking the device down the street near Vaak.

That is how Lest got his decade-old datawatch.

Along with the watch, Vaak strapped on gauntlets to his hands. Mostly just made of wool for warmth, they also came handy with tiny durasteel plates on the knuckles. Perfect to make punches deadlier. They would be comparable to brass knuckles, only a glove.

After adjusting his gun belt, Vaak's watch lit up. He barely managed to press the tiny buttons on the watch to view the coordinates sent by the, apparently, skilled computer guy of the group. He was doing his job, so that was a good sign.

Maybe my comrades are all competent after all. This is good news. I hope the loud one is as deadlier than he is funny.

"Alright men, time to earn your pay. I will mostly play the part of an observer, seeing how you all do against a real challenge. There's a drop ship waiting in the hangar, preparing to take us down to the surface. Meet me there in thirty minutes sharp. And please bring winter gear, I don't want any of our fellowship freezing to death in the frozen plains."

Vaak nodded, double checking to make sure he had everything prepped. He felt five pounds heavier with all of these layers on and already started to feel far too warm here on the ship. He tried to think about what exactly a Jedi was. He had never seen or heard of anything like that before. Are they like the Sith? How well does an opponent fluent in the language of hand-to-hand stand a chance?

It's time to find out.

Vaak began trudging down the corridors of the ship leading to the hangar, his heavy winter boots still making tons of racket on the metal deck.

[member="The Courier"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Varren Krizs"]

 

[Varren Krizs]

[member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Marcus Lok"] [member="The Courier"] [member="Willa Isard"] [member="Knight K'sara"]

"I would not delve into matters beyond your depth, young hunter."

"And what matter's would that be, O mysterious Rhodes?"

Varren's datapad was synced to his visor. He scanned the data as it ran across his Heads-Up Display. The coordinates formed an x- and y- axis on the planet's surface, and zoomed in on the exact location. The HUD gave him directions on how to get to the planet's surface, and once on the surface, how to get to those coordinates. The GPS had a soothing, robotic, feminine voice. "Take the nearest spacecraft down to the surface of the planet," the voice said. He called Lola. Felt like it gave it a personality.

"Oh good," Varren said as he looked at an aerial view of the map, "it looks like the only landmark is snow..." Obviously that was sarcasm.

Varren ran down the hall and jumped on the Kel'Dor's back, "Piggy back ride!" He yelled.

This alien would either love him or hate him by the end of this trip, there was no in between with Varren. The sound of his boots clacking together could be heard as he tried to spur the giant Kel'Dor. "YAH YAH," Krizs shouted.

Eventually he relented and jumped down, walking next to him, trying to match his pace, "So what do they call you?" Varren asked seriously.

While it was good to have fun and screw with people, he believed that when push came to shove, it was better to have a team who you know and trust rather than a group of people you don't know. There was no place Varren loved more than being with a group of people who didn't know him and didn't know each other. He loved meeting new people and making friends. Which was the complete opposite of his personality because he loved violence. Also 90% of the people he had worked with before had either died horrible, gruesome deaths, or downright hated Varren.

"My name is Varren Krizs. I'm originally from Fondor...but my parents disowned me. Currently I live on the lower echelons of Coruscant. What about you?" Varren said inquisitively.

Krizs pulled on a pair of mittens with a trigger finger and pulled his sleeve over the lip of the glove. He recounted all of the equipment and clothing he had: heavy boots with climbing spikes, long thermal underwear, heavy cargo pants with insulation, sweat wicking, long, thermal under shirt, a chest plate, a heavy, fur-lined snow coat, a neck gaiter, and his helmet. Then on top of it all, he had his white cloak as sort of a camouflage and overcoat to take the brunt of the wind and snow. He checked his rucksack: 2 days worth of food, a tent, emergency fire starter, a sleeping cocoon, and spare clips for his weapons.

 

[Vaak Lest]

Vaak yelped when he felt extra weight jump onto his back.

"YAH YAH!"

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MADNESS?!

The keldor tried to throw the man off of his back, but he hopped ofd by himself. Vaak turned and stared angrily at Varren as he continued to ramble on.

How old is this kid? Twelve? From Naboo? Alderaan?

"What about you?" The young man asked.

Vaak seemed to emit a low-pitched growl from the bowels of his throat. His giant fists clenched together and he seriously considered beating the man into a pulp.

Oh what i'd give if I wasn't working with this guy...

Finally, Vaak spoke. "You talk too much." His voice was deep, metallic, and slightly muffled going through his oxidation mask. Vaak turned tail and resumed walking down the corridor.

[member="Varren Krizs"] |

 

[Atton Korvas]

The Courier was checking the coordinates on his small datapad, trying to come up with some sort of plan when...

What the actual kark..?

The comedian had just jumped on the bulky Kel'dor's back. The Courier sighed. So this was who he'd be working with to hunt down a Jedi. They were pretty much screwed. Luckily for Krizs, the Kel'dor hadn't given him a black eye and some broken bones. Yet. The Courier hoped that this guy wouldn't be as sociable on the battlefield as he currently was.

He didn't say anything when the comedian asked about their pasts. In fact, the Kel'dor had done the talking for him: you talk too much.

The Courier walked along with his "comrades" without saying a word, wondering whose head would be chopped off first and left on the ice planet. He was willing to bet it'd be the comedian.

[member="Vaak Lest"] | [member="Varren Krizs"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Marcus Lok"]​

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Rhodes arrived at the drop ship a bit ahead of schedule, just to make sure everything was in working order. The dropship was contained five speeders, one for each of them. The ship and the speeders all contained tracking devices attached to the engines. That way, if something was stolen, it would be found. Also, in order to remove the device, one would have to destroy the engine. Nobody in their right mind would steal one of these things.

The interior contained a pilot's area, and a large area for the crew to sit and store their gear. This ship had not come with the frigate, it was a ship pirated from a private military. The ship had been wiped clean of any affiliating symbols, and re-registered to the same couple who owned the frigate it was inside. Same thing with the speeders, no affiliation. He took a seat nearest to the left door, storing his gear in the compartment next to him.

[member="The Courier"] [member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Varren Krizs"] [member="Willa Isard"] [member="Marcus Lok"] [member="Knight K'sara"]

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus clomped the whole way down to the dropship in his heavier snow boots. He had decided much earlier on that his lighter armored boots would never be able to retain warmth well enough on the surface of Hoth, and these were a much better option. He made one one quick look down to his datapad to ensure that the datapad had transferred the coordinates to his HUD correctly. The numbers quickly flashed onto the display along with his own internal body temperature and other readings that would be needed in the scouring of the surface.

He gave a final check of his weapons, both underneath his coat and on his utility belt. His pistols hung firmly against his legs and he frowned as he remembered the danger that could be posed if the frost came to affect the firing mechanism within the Thunderer which was pretty open to the air for cooling purposes... Meh. His E-11 Should be fine, and that he carried in his gloved hands.

He soon found himself stepping into the ship that 'Rhodes' had entered. So this would be their shuttle... It was pretty high quality for a band of hunters and he wouldn't be surprised if it were military grade. No time to examine all the pretty features though, time to buckle in. Marcus gave a slight nod to Rhodes before he placed his blaster into the holding slot next to the seat and began to strap himself in. The heavy coats were already causing a bit of sweat to form on his brow, and he removed the helmet in turn to wipe it away, and keep cool in general.


[member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="The Courier"] [member="Vaak Lest"] [member="Varren Krizs"]

 

[K'sara]

"X3, scan for life signatures." She said and activated the cloaking device enhanced by stygium crystals. "Put a double on that... Keep the scanner open. Should you detect anything out of the ordinary, notify me immediately." The door opened and soon K'sara jumped down from the battle ready frigate. Despite being strapped for war, none of the gear she had made a noise as she made impact with the thick snow. Echo Base was the most famous and renowned Rebel Alliance base of operations. While it was rich in history, no one made stops here unless it absolutely required it. This place was worse than Rhen Var, and she would rather kark a Selkath than be here, but her student needed to learn.

"Willamina, what's taking so long? Insulation can only do so much." She said... then her voice fell.

"I hope I wasn't followed..."

[member="Willa Isard"]

 

[Willa Isard]

[member="Knight K'sara"]

Willa was moving behind her master as she looked towards where she was going and had her scans going on. The probe droids from the recon system giving her a better view while she caught up and her armor was blending in with the snow while she was walking and speaking to her master. "I am ready master though this base is abandoned right? Are we certain there will be creatures or anything there?" Her eyes trailed around the snow while she brought fire to her hands to let her master warm up a little.

 

[Varren Krizs]

[member="Marcus Lok"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="The Courier"] [member="Vaak Lest"]

"You don't talk enough, Kel'dor. I think you just need time to warm up to me!" Varren laughed and walked toward the hangar.

Once inside the hangar he looked around, noticing the size of it. It wasn't very big obviously, because it was a frigate. Maybe a few starfighters could fit in here. Perhaps a gunship. He walked through the hangar and up the ramp of the shuttle. The inside was dimly lit, save for a red light in the corner of the troop bay, and one of his fellow bounty hunters holding a glowing datapad.

Varren unstrapped his ruck sack and set it down in one of the cargo netted bays. He then plopped down next to the guy with the datapad. "How are you doing? I'm Varren Krizs," Varren introduced himself.

Krizs examined the shuttlecraft they were in. Clearly advanced for a rag tag band of hunters. Either this guy who hired us was rich, or it was stolen. He assumed it was stolen. There were faint marks of symbols of some sort that had been scrubbed off or removed somehow. He wondered who this belonged to, and whether they were aware it was missing. It wasn't his place to ask either. All Varren was here for was to kill a Jedi and get paid. The side details he didn't care to know. And on top of that, he didn't like being called a Bounty Hunter, he preferred Mercenary or Hired Gun. Bounty hunter was too common in the galaxy today, and didn't accurately describe what Varren did.