So, I go hunting for witches

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren Starchaser was curious. And confused. And concerned. He hadn’t heard from Kelly in too long. There were reunions going on left and right around him, people who were part of the raptured that had returned. And while he and Kelly had their own style of relationship, they normally didn’t go this long without one another. And keeping up with the Fringe Federation campaign to protect the galaxy was keeping his mind off of it.

But not now. He had been in touch with Lily Ardellian, one of the other founders of Warbird Wing, and a Corellian as well. She mentioned that there had to be an answer and that Coren was going to be ordered to go off the campaign by the Wing. The whole military-tribal life of that ship, the Dawn Treader, was still as important to him as anything else in the galaxy. And when one of the big three, he, Lily or Scall, the pilot, the officer and the soldier, respectively, made an order, it was followed.

“Jared can handle the front with the Fringe. Galaxy won’t fall apart without you. Turn the Tib over and take the Rising, get off the front. We’ll keep space safe.” Apparently the Wing had been worrying a lot about keeping what was in the Fringe, inside. And they were doing well about it.

That meant that Coren was fine. He was going to hop around and see what was out in the galaxy. He made the trip over to the Treader from the command vessel of the Fringe Expeditionary Force that he was with lately, and switched ships.



It felt good to be behind the controls of the old YT-2000 again. The trick was, where to go? He put in the first coordinates that he knew he could find some answers, and that was the Corellian system. He hadn’t been home since the disaster and really needed to see it. The trip was… unsettling. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the sight, mixed with the empty feeling? He wasn’t going to stick here long. Making his way into the system, he set down on the twin worlds, on Talus.

There was a bar he enjoyed, it served a lot of solid drinks, good music, and some of the best burritos in the galaxy. Landing his freighter and taking his speederbike out to the bar, he was hoping he’d be able to clear his mind as he sought out Kelly. Maybe someone inside would have an answer?
Walking up to the countertop that faced east to the sea for the patrons inside, he placed an order for a Whyren’s and one of the burritos. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to see who was here.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

He was out on a quest. Almost a vision quest, but for him? It was more a walk-about than anything else. Sure, he wasn't in a badlands environment, but he was searching. He had to leave the Fringe to their tasks for now, and he would come back, and he'd be stronger. Able to assist fully, ensure that his skill set, a Starchaser that was focused in Sense powers, would be able to help. Well, he supposed it was Sense and Control powers. According to the family holocron, he had a lot to learn to get back to his full strength. Draining life forces with the Force, sapping energy from enemies, resisting unfriendly attacks using the Force, were all secondary powers to his instinctive astrogation, and ability to find items, a blend of psychometry and farsight.

His father had taught him how to survive, and that was what the Force did for him. It helped him survive, in a war between the Jedi and the Sith, and working for the Sith. He was able to survive to keep stalling them, his skillset designed by the Force or coincidence to sap energy from an enemy while keeping him alive, and to find that which he needed when he needed it.

And right now? It was finding the next step in his trip.

The best thing about joints like this? People spoke, and from that, he was hoping to get a lead on where he was meant to go next. It was risky, but he didn't have anything else to go on. With Kelly gone, with the Force being returned to how it used to work... He was starting to feel better about how to use the nebulous power. And he really hated being planetside.

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

Three men situated around a table towards the centre left of the cantina, the former a man in a military styled coat that had seen better days, the other a Duros and the final a Zeltron. They seem immersed in conversation, raising their mugs periodically to their mouths before slamming it down in some heated conversation.​

​

Character​

​

"I'm sick and tired of being pushed around by Jeds an Reds." he'd say studying the contents of his mug with contempt. "We need to get prepared, slug throwers, blaster cannons something they can't toss back or block." his hand's running the length of his coat pulling forth a long tube like cigar from one of his pouches, setting it on the crux of his lips letting it roll from one side to the next getting a taste for the thing. Before lighting it wafting silver smoke leaching of it in thin slivers.​

​

[member="Cadan Tazi"] [member="Thraxis"]​

 

[Thraxis]

"Like I said, they can't push back a bomb once it has hit the surface of a planet, nor do I believe they can use their fancy tricks to push away a disease, but both of those options either take too long, or are gonna get us in more trouble than it would be worth." Thjaxis would say, looking in discontent at his nearly empty mug. "Of course, we could try to overwhelm them, take some droids with us on the ship, then release them to overwhelm them in one fell swoop!" he would bellow, now looking at the captain with the same discontent he had when he peered into his mug.

 

[Cadan Tazi]

"I agree with the Cap'n. We need to get us some slug throwers. Or one of those flamers!" He'd take a sip from his drink, a let the liquids trickle down his throat. "I'm goin' need more of this if we are gonna take on some more Jed's though."
His large, red, eyes would fall upon Coren. "Aye boy, come here for a second!"
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

And now he was paying attention to the music. It was a nice rhythm, between that and the food? It was making this place seem like a really strong decision. And that was all he needed to take the time to look around, watch the exits and see who came and went, who they spoke to and what he could hear, or infer out of their actions. He didn't like to use the Force to dig into other people, he used it for the world, navigating and finding lost items, but for people? He kept the Force to himself. Unless, of course, it was to drain the energy from someone.

He enjoyed the idea of being an energy sink, and was going to have to work on that. Maybe someone in the Fringe would be a strong teacher for him. Relearn him some of what he lost. But he didn't need to relearn how to eavesdrop. Apparently that was one of those skills that was truly ingrained in him.

Weapons runners, huh. That was something he'd not seen in a while. Which was a large say on what his life was lately. Then one of the group called out for boy.

Him? By his estimation, he hadn't been 'boy' in 20 years.

[member="Cadan Tazi"] @Thraxis @Flannigan Mcnash

 

[Cadan Tazi]

"Aye boy! Bring us some whisky! Consider it your way of donating to The Jackals!" He'd let out a loud burst of laughter.
[member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren shook his head. Man wasn't going to quit, was he? He took his time finishing his burrito. Freaking aliens. Sure, maybe he was a bit more Imperialistic than he let on, xenophobic, or not really afraid of them, just speciest. Palpatine had something going for him. Chiss were fine, Zeltrons, Kiffar, sure, but the rest? He'd deal without them.

"Ain't your damned bartender, friend." Was all he said, taking another sip of his Whyren's.

[member="Cadan Tazi"] @Thraxis @Flannigan Mcnash

 

[Cadan Tazi]

"Ain't no bartender. But you is going to be my barmaid! Consider it your contribution to The Jackals war effort. People would kill to be able to do this you know." He'd look around his small group, giving them a slight smile. "Any of you boys want something? Cap'n, another whisky?"
Cadan's large, red, eyes would swivel back to Coren. "Three whisky's will do. Boy" He'd add emphasis on the word 'boy'.
[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis would look at [member="Cadan Tazi"] with a disappointed look, "Sir, you need to get your priorities straight. If everyone just gave us a bit of booze as there form of donations, we would be dead from alcohol poisoning, not to mention broke." looking back to the captain, "Can you tell him? Surly he will listen to you."

 

[Brigid Fitch]

The small female sitting at the bar took a long drink of the whatever it was the bartender had made for her. She'd told him to surprise her with a mixed drink she hadn't had before. She considered the glass for a few minutes before looking up.

"Literally every creature should be more afraid of you than you are of it."

The bartender looked baffled by this.

"Because you are terrible."

She threw back the rest of the drink. Whatever, it was in her hand, and probably alcoholic at least.

"From a long line of terrible."

She weighed the satisfaction she'd get from seeing if she could get him square in the forehead with the glass versus how much she would like another drink and the unlikeliness of the second if she indulged in the first.

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis would turn to look at the small female sitting at the bar, looking at what she had done, though missed the spectacle, "Hey, I missed the spectacle, mind doing it again?" he would yell, hoping to catch her attention, desiring for a fight to erupt in the bar, which would inevitably giving him a chance to unload his built up stress.
[member="Brigid Fitch"]

 

[Brigid Fitch]

A yell from behind her caught her attention, turning, she considered the Zeltron. Veeeeery pink. Since she might have been drinking even before entering the bar, this scrutiny took her a moment before she replied.

"Which one? Spectacle that is."

She hadn't done anything particularly memorable thus far beyond telling the bartender he was terrible, and he hadn't even had the sense to look properly offended at that.

"Yer not press are you? All anyone ever wants t'ask me about are the elaborately staged psycho-sexual murders."

She was probably joking. Probably. It was hard to tell.

"I also have a dog-walking company."

She lamented. This was probably also a lie. Certainly no one ought to entrust their pets to her.

"Terrible people are people too. Except him. Carn't no one forgive a man who can't mix a decent drink"

She added, giving the bartender a dark look.

[member="Thraxis"]

 

[Thraxis]

"Sorry, I thought a spectacle was about to occur, bit tipsy, this drink might be poor, but enough of this swill will get you tipsy at least. Though, you have aroused my interest. Psycho Murders you say?" Thraxis would respond, his pupils long since dilated from the minor alcoholic content, "I don't know about you, but I know, that psycho murderers are always the most interesting people to mingle with." holding his mug high in the air, letting the swill splatter onto the floor, his arm motions showing signs of his drunken stupor.

 

[Brigid Fitch]

"I need."

She enunciated carefully to the bartender

"A new drink. Mine is empty. And terrible. No! No. You don't get to mix it, no more mixing drinks for you. No. Just gimme, gimme that bottle. Yer, that one, riiight there. No. No, down, down, right, too far. Yes. That one."

She accepted the bottle with the same reverence other people showed when they were handed babies. Before looking up to give the bartender a suspicious drunken glare.

"'N so help my if yer terrible has gone through th'glass.."

By this point the bartender was beginning to look a little concerned. There was rather more crazy in here than he was accustomed to. Usually people just took their burritos and booze and shut up. She turned her attention back to [member="Thraxis"], opening the bottle and taking a swig before responding.

"Better small talk anyway since if'n sommun tells you yer wastin' yer life you can just smile real wide 'nd suggest they be grateful y'don't waste theirs next. Also works a treat on in-laws."

She considered this, before nodding once happily.

"It's the little things in life, like violence."

 

[Thraxis]

"Ok then, lets go to the small talk then, as well as straight to the point, do you like murder? Because me and my friends are basically all about the murder, you got quality's we need. Ruthlessness. Apathetic towards other people, the kinda of qualities that help you make it big. But when I talk about big in life!" Thraixs would say, the drunken stupor slowly vanishing, being replaced with a menacing glee, "You can get paid for murder! What could be better, anyone you want dead is gone in a heartbeat! We wouldn't even care how you done it!" he would let out a little chuckle, that was filled with a near menacing glee, his eyes would slowly lose its dilation, becoming more menacing in nature, along with his overall expression.
[member="Brigid Fitch"]

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

Character​

​

"Thraxis-" his eye's would raise from his mug giving him a burrowing look, his mouth working in a silent insult. "-I can't abide by you letting your mouth run." he'd say his finger's drumming along the rim of the table, gurgling out a throaty rumble he'd let the flem like contents of his mouth leave in a straight bullet, spitting. "Godamn Nar Shadda, the fumes must 'ave got me sick. But we're not spice fuelled murders, and you'd do good to remember that when introducing ourselves."​

 

[Brigid Fitch]

"I'm less of a murderer.."

She commented thoughtfully taking another long drink.

"'nd more of an environmentalist. If y'think about the carbon footprint from just one being. I am basically saving the galaxy. You're welcome."

The bartender was starting to look seriously edgy. Why did these people not just eat some damned burritos and get out?

"The last proper job I had was predictin' th'future. They fired me 'cause I just had a cry. Joke was on them though, I din't even bring a lunch that day."

She added in apparent satisfaction. Did she just entirely miss the fact that a self professed crew of murderers had tried to recruit her into their murder-ranks? Apparently so. She was busy, having very deep, very drunken philosophical thoughts.

"As they say,"

she concluded taking another pull on the bottle.

"Do unto others. They deserve it, th'bastards."

This too was said in good cheer, the galaxy was full of motherfuckers, but it was all right, because once you'd unveiled the ultimate secret that none of it mattered and you could do what you liked, they had no power.

[member="Thraxis"] [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Thraxis]

"So, the Psycho Murder is just an environmentalist?" the menacing grin slowly vanishing, his face growing bored, "Well if your no murderer, rather an environmentalist, you could, you know, kill the people, reducing their carbon footprint, grind them into little pieces and then spread their carcasses over planets, make some good organic decomposable product from the deceased." he would respond, though his overall grimace slowly dissipating, though for brief moments it would return, as if he gained some sort of wry amusement from his own twisted thoughts. He would then look back at [member="Flannigan Mcnash"], "Well then, how else are we going to portray ourselves? We are far from the greatest good doers this twisted region of the universe has ever seen, nor are we the most notorious scumbag that has ever graced itself on this backwater planet. Were murders, and darn good ones at that!" he would say, looking somewhat disgruntled at the captains blatant lie.

 

[Brigid Fitch]

"Alternatively, find empty houses for sale, put th'bodies in the closets. Y'would be giving sommun a story t'tell for life. Make first time home buying into a real experience."

There was a thought, that could be fun. That was for later though.

"Everybody dies. Every. Single. Person. So style counts. As long as y'do it with style, yer prolly doing them a favour."

She shrugged. People were expendable. There were so many of them, going about their little lives, following the same patterns day in and day out, blind to the possibilities the galaxy had to offer. Speaking of possibilities.. Dreamy and slightly glazed blue eyes focused on the Zeltron again.

"You, me 'nd a zombie apocalypse. Y'don't have to answer right now."

She took another drink before tilting her head slightly as a new thought struck.

"But I wouldn't take too long either. I don't share ammo with just anyone y'know."

Was that a serious proposition? It was hard to tell. It seemed rather ludicrous, but the woman had to support herself somehow.

[member="Thraxis"] [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]