The Underworld: You Never Forget The First Tango

[Eryn]

Coruscant Underworld, Level 2048​

She shouldn't have come back to Coruscant.

A pair of nimble booted feet viciously beat the flat, unstable duracrete rooftops of Block H-424, a small section of low lying buildings and housing units tucked between the sprawl of neon lights and dark, towering fossils of structures long since forgotten by the 'skydwellers' in the hectic, evermoving scramble to climb higher, build bigger.

On either side of the thin strip ran a network of streets and causeways, old taxi platforms and shadowy alleyways; Level 2048 was low enough to be fifty shades of filthy, ripe with crime and overrun with scum from all walks of life, but it was high enough that it still saw traffic from the Upper Levels, refugees looking for cheap living, soldiers looking for stiffer drinks, drifters and smugglers looking for under-the-table jobs. People funneled through the pathways, in and out of bars and entertainment clubs like ants, a never-ending stream.
Music blared from all corners, old advertisements for products long since gone flashed and flickered here and there, thick smoke rose from street fires and bent chimneys, collecting like dark clouds over the boulevards. It was the tail end of the Belt Levels, the midway point between habitable Coruscant and the black, mutant-controlled, toxic layers of the surface.

Very few went lower than the 2000s. Almost no one returned.

Right now, she had half a mind to try her luck with the mutants and the lethal fumes. Starving cthon couldn't be as relentless as he was. She'd bet all her rations on it. (Not that she had any at the moment.)

Arms pumping, heart hammering, Eryn tore over the roofs at break-neck speed, dodging holes made by hungry slugs, vaulting over pipes and leaping the short distance between buildings. Her mind was focused, ready to grab at any opportunity her sharp gaze identified, but she could feel panic threatening to seep through the cracks in her thoughts, despite her efforts.

No one had gotten quite this close or kept up for so long in years, and she hated that it was unnerving her.

The fugitive rolled under a fallen chimney, picked up speed, and took the short drop to the next level of buildings with an easy jump. She landed a little hard, but her flexible bones moved with her. Eryn paused in a crouch, panting, head whirling as she tried to scan every direction at once. She couldn't see him. That didn't mean a damn thing, though. She swallowed, throat dry, legs aching, fire burning in her chest.

Getting off the roof would help. Not like she'd had a choice of terrain to begin with, after the low-flying taxi she'd managed to cling to for a few minutes (in her attempt to get away from the streets and try to outrun the hunter) successfully knocked her off right on top of Block H-424. Now that she'd put a block or two between them, she had to get back on the streets where she could blend in. She was too vulnerable up here.

Eryn followed the line of low buildings ahead with her eyes, quickly searching for a way down. Some of the housetops were starting to slope downwards and so were the pipes and beams that ran parallel to them. Beyond, the buildings rose significantly, meeting the jagged, metal underbelly of the next level high above.

There was a loud crash on the street below, and angry voices rose above the music of the strip bar across the way. Eryn didn't wait to see what was going on. She took off again, racing forward, long hair streaming behind her like a kite tail as she sped towards the incline in the distance. It came up sooner than she'd expected, and she hit the pitched, crumbling roof in a fast slide, letting gravity do the work. It wasn't too far to the alley below, maybe forty feet, but even she was wary of a straight drop at that height. A broken pipe jutted out as she went over the edge, and she grabbed at it, a small cascade of dust and bits of broken duracrete tumbling on without her.

She didn't hang around long. The side of the building was a map of zigzagging pipelines and pockmarks that would make good handholds. Down she climbed, taking to the scene like a Kowakian monkey-lizard. Sweat glossed her face, making her hair stick to her neck and her shirt cling to her torso. Eryn hit the pavement, peeling off her leather jacket and stuffing it in an open trash can before making for the busy street, alert but trying not to look like she was in trouble, rolling her hair in a low bun at the nape of her neck.

If she could blend in, stay one step ahead of him and find somewhere to lay low for a while, she may just get out of this one.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

Yips and barks followed the young woman as she ran over rooftops. A pack of black canines led by a large Anooba probably wasn't what one would want to be chased by. Gnashing teeth and sharp eyes followed closely behind, their claws clicking on the surface of the roofs. They leaped and bounded over balconies and fire escapes. One slipped and fell, crashing into a street vendor and whimpered. Davin cursed as he slid to a stop and jumped down to the ground to retrieve the fallen animal before propelling himself back to the rooftops with his repulsor pack. A sharp whistle would make the others stop their chase and return to him.

The Couruscant underworld wasn't the first place in the Galaxy he would like to be right now, but credits were credits, and the Hutt's Credits were good. This girl's credit worth was insane so he guessed that was one reason he was here. The other was he just hadn't had a good hunt in far too long.

A speeder flew by, the rush of air making his kama billow and the fur on his Vornskr. He had brought four and Zip with him for this hunt. Not exactly the best environment for them, but as long as they didn't accidentally kill anyone it was alright. Even still, he had to be careful. The One Sith still ruled over Coruscant, especially down in the depths. Using the Force would draw unwanted attention from the authorities but he was sure he could scrap out of a fight if he needed to.

He shifted in his armor and stood, his macrobinoculars following the young girl. If she was smart she would go into the crowd, but she wasn't the only one who had ever tried that on him. A few hand signals to the canines and they would all begin to head back to his ship. He stopped the injured one that was limping behind and pressed his forehead to her's. Through the Force bond they shared he would grip her "scent" in the Force. The rough tongue would run against the Mandalorian steel in a sign of affection before it hobbled away to catch up to her pack.

Once he made his way down to the pavement he began to concentrate on his prey. The Force would guide him to her. Following in her footsteps he noticed a leather jacket stuffed haphazardly into a trashcan. She had come this way. Well...she had a good run at least.

[member="Eryn"]

 

[Eryn]

Eryn let the crowd swallow her whole. If the canine baying had stopped, she couldn't tell over the din of the busy road. Merchant stalls lined the pathways on either side, beings of all shapes and sizes selling everything from strands of beads (real Felucian amber! guaranteed to prolong your life! Buy two and extend your years further!) and knock-off armor plating to modified datapads and bowls full of noodles. Music blared from open club doors, bright lights seared the ground from above in every shade of neon. Scents drifted by, perfumes and foods and sweat and decay all mixing in the streets. It was nauseating, but maybe it would cover her own scent. She'd been too busy running to get a good look at her hound pursuers, but she knew they'd be good at tracking with their noses. Surely they wouldn't follow her into the crowded street…

Just in case the air wasn't enough, though, she should do something about that.

Someone knocked her arm on their way to a stall bursting with flavored deathsticks. Eryn rolled with it, using the jostle to aim for the cart on the opposite side. Manned by a thin Twi'lek female with rose-colored skin and lovely purple tattoos circling her lekku, it was covered with tiny bottles of perfume and little dishes of fragrant orange clays, apparently meant to rid the skin of toxins (yeah, sure). She watched carefully, waiting for an opportunity. The alien ducked, rummaging through a drawer in the side of her cart, and Eryn swiped a bottle and a few handfuls of clay before melting back into the stream of beings.

Sometimes, it was the little things that saved you. Or, at least, gave you a fighting chance.

She kept moving, dousing her grimy hair in the perfume and smearing the clay up and down her arms and around her neck, rubbing the excess on the backs and shoulders of other people as she passed them. Teal eyes peeled for opportunities and any sign of her pursuer (whom she had yet to get a decent look at), the young woman didn't pause, bouncing slowly from cart to cart like a ball caught between two walls, fingers always out to snag what she could. A green scarf from the waist of a tall, nomadic looking man, which she scrubbed her neck with before looping the fabric around the rucksack of a passing Rodian headed in the opposite direction. A pair of gloves from the pocket of a merchant, which she put on and ran through her hair before disposing of them on an empty chair beside a couple selling holomaps. A pity to leave them. They were nice gloves.

By the time she was done, the whole square would smell like sweet, wet clay and Hapan Nights perfume.

She managed to grab a canteen of water from a group of refugees huddled around a noodle cart, which she downed quickly. The sound of approaching speeder bikes rang shrill above the hubbub of the causeway, and Eryn ducked into a doorway to dodge the parting sea of people as they rolled through and parked outside The Epiphany, a particularly loud club. She watched the group lock the bikes, securing them to a metal stand.

And now she had a decision to make. Because hijacking a speeder would sure beat walking or running. But it was easily traceable, and the Underworld was full of dangerous bike gangs looking to score new rides.

Eryn made a face, debating quickly in her little alcove.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

The noise of the bustling undercity was nearly deafening. Speeders, dark club beats, and a cacophony of any number of galactic languages mingled together in a strangely calming barrier of white noise, it gave him something to concentrate on. Silly, that one could create a single noise out of so many and focus on that undercity sound to focus, but it was what the young Mandalorian hunter was forced to do. He wasn't skilled enough to focus on any one sound to hone his senses.

He walked with a steady pace, matching what felt like the heartbeat of Level 2048. He was like a stone in a river of people though, his armor was off putting, no doubt half of the people he passed held bounties, and indeed any of them did. His HUD flashed as he passed several minor bounties in the crowd, interesting that they all came here. Did they think they could blend in with the other hunted? Either way, his armor was drawing too much attention, though there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"There," he mumbled to himself, chills ran up his spine and it was as if there was a golden chain that would lead him to his goal. He had finally caught her scent in the Force. There was no running now. But here he faced a dilemma. Did he rush forward? The Rekali had taught him that the Force is a fickle lover. Maybe this wouldn't lead him directly to her, but something connected to her. He paused and closed his eyes, focusing on the golden chain. Slowly the image of the city in his mind's eye melted away to silhouettes, the gold chain weaving through the blackness. In the distance a human shaped blue glow surrounded one of the many thousands of silhouettes. There, that was her. He reached for the gold chain and gripped it tightly. He would not let go.

He made a dash for the nearest alley and leaped up to the roof, the Force propelling him to grand heights. His boots landed with a crack on the old durasteel roof and made low thuds as his feet moved across the surface. Closer, and closer still. The hunt was back on.

@Eryn

 

[Eryn]

Bike? Or run? Bike, or run? Bike or run, bike or run, bike or run… Eryn took another look at the streets, craning her neck from the alcove to get a glimpse of what was down the road, but the horizon was obscured by the rising smog. She turned, peering out at the freshly secured bikes. "Ugh. Wasting time," she spat at herself. Bike, then. Because if she could put more space between herself and the hunter, it might give her some time to figure out where to go from here. She could ride it for a few miles, abandon it and then find her way up a level or two in search of transport off the planet. Yeah. Loose plans were best.

Solid plans never quite worked out how you wanted them to.

She waited until the group had entered the club, guffawing and hooting and drunkenly slapping each other on the back. Casually meandering towards the speeders, Eryn kept her eyes peeled, readying herself as she neared them. A fast inspection told her they'd used heavy chain to hook them all separately to the pole, which either meant they were really stupid or they'd left a lookout somewhere in the shadows. She reached for her vibrodagger. A quick one-two with that and the lock would be useless… but she paused as she looked upwards. The metal post rose a good distance into the rooftops, but it wasn't connected to anything. The top was jagged and a little bent, but it was open, and the chain was loose enough...

Half a grin rose at the corner of her lips. Leaving her dagger in her boot, Eryn scanned the assembled bikes quickly, looking for the least conspicuous. All five had been so heavily painted and modified that she could barely make out the controls. One had a seat lined with some kind of long fur that vaguely reminded her of Wookie pelt, and another had been decorated with so many spikes she wasn't sure how to mount the thing without stabbing herself in the leg. Clearly, a lot of time and money had been sunk into these machines. There were two at the farthest end that didn't scream 'I'm In A Biker Gang And I Want To Look Scary'. A quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention, and she grabbed the handlebars of one, slung her leg over the seat, and flipped the ignition. Toggling the pitch, it rose quickly upwards, chain dragging against the pole as it slid upwards with the swoop. Her head appeared over the roof. Just a little farther up…

"HEY!"

Eryn jumped, squeezing the controls by accident. The bike banked too far left, brushing the wall, and a metallic squeal cut through the air as the plating scraped the pipes. She looked down, eyes wide. Below her, one of the gang members was standing next to the bikes, waving his hands in anger, his face murderous. Great. I should have walked, she thought sourly.

"Get the bloody KARK off MY BIKE, you lil' schutta!!" he screamed up at her, reaching for his weapon.

Pulling up hard, she flew the last few feet above the rooftops in a rapid ascent, towing the chain with her, and as it slipped off the end of the pole, Eryn swung the bike around just in time to catch a glimpse of a dark figure on the roof a few units away, running with purpose in her direction.

Her blood went cold.

Time to see how fast she could fly this thing.

"KRIFF!" The biker kicked at the pole, scrambling to unlock one of the other bikes though clearly not sober enough anymore to fly straight. "Damn karkin' thieves. I'LL FIND YOU! YOU'LL BE DEAD WHEN I DO!!"

She aimed the nose for far away, let loose the engines, and left her insides behind as she shot across the roof and dipped down into the streets, roaring over the crowd.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

A commotion from down below drew his attention. Yelling, cursing and shrieking metal drew not only his attention but others around as well. He slid to a stop and looked up to the skylanes to see his prey lifting off into ongoing traffic. He cursed under his breath and quickly made his way to the roof of the club. The biker was still cursing, at this point several others had come out to curse and yell insults at the woman. Some of them were starting to get on their bikes, their blasters at the ready.

Not good for business.

He sucked his teeth.

"Well this just got a little more complicated...thanks," he said to the woman sarcastically. He knew she couldn't hear him from this far away, but he wasted his breath anyways. "Here we go then," he said, stepping off of the ledge, his boot planting itself firmly into the back of one of the men picking up his fallen swoop. There was a thud and a slight crack as his face planted into the permacrete. His buddies backed off in surprise before taking out vibro knives and brandishing chains and the like from their jackets.

With a sigh he lunged at the bikers, his fist finding its mark dead center in the face of another biker, a stupid looking Gungan. The fight was over in seconds. A few drunken bikers were no match for a career bounty hunter and Mandalorian. Broken teeth and bits of tusk along with ripped leather and broken bodies littered the parking lot. Satisfied with his work he turned and pulled the blaster carbine from its holster and blasted a the chains away from the remaining swoops. He recognized one of the swoops, a heavily modified Daw Motors speeder.

With a grunt he shifted the bike from the mess and took a seat. The repulsor coils activated and the repulsor engine roared to life. Davin closed his eyes, focusing again to attempt to find his prey again. It wasn't difficult, but she was moving fast and was much further ahead of him than he would of liked.

With a roar the speeder lifted off and shot into the skylanes near top speed.

[member="Eryn"]

 

[Eryn]

Left, straight ahead, left again, fast right… The Undercity was a maze, and more than once Eryn wondered if she'd gained enough space, made enough of a leap that she could ditch her speeder and make her way on foot, because as nice as it was to outrun the guy and blow through the ruins at breakneck speed, it was also not the most subtle of ways to dodge a hunter, and it was just as likely to attract more unwanted attention.

The colored lights and howling alarm of the police sounded somewhere ahead as they zoomed after a group of taxis zigzagging chaotically through the congested air. She ducked a little out of habit, scanning the skies, but they weren't after her. Yet, at least. Still, she somehow felt more exposed on the busy interchange than she did running solo over the rooftops.
Breaking away from the main stream of traffic, Eryn weaved through the alleys, checking her proximity readouts every few minutes for tails. There was something different about this man, like he had some magic radar or some kind of invisible tracker on her. It had her uneasy. Many of the people who'd attempted to claim her bounty had been slower, less focused, less 'able' with no real stake in it other than a nice stack of credits. This one? Determined. Fast. Smart. Like he lived for the hunt.

All very big problems for her.

The farther she got from the skylanes meant less traffic and less chance of authorities getting involved, but it also meant she had to sacrifice her in-plain-sight cover and couldn't lose the guy in the crowds. The ruins on either side grew darker, the air more stale as she pushed beyond the 'safe', populated areas and headed for the shadowy outskirts, looking for somewhere to make a false trail. Maybe she could double back, if she was careful, and find a ride off this planet before he realized he was following nothing, but it was a small hope and not one she was confident in. So far, he'd proven to be the better dancer in this tango.

Her proximity alarms blared. Eryn looked up, eyes wide, squeezing the breaks hard as she swerved down and to the right to avoid a building she could have sworn hadn't been there four seconds ago. She couldn't stop to recalculate her direction and this deep into the industrial labyrinth there was no way to climb above the ruins, so eyes narrowed against the fetid wind, she plowed forward through the narrow alley in front of her.

Behind her, the hologram of the low-hanging construction flickered spastically and went out, having fulfilled its purpose. It waited for its next victim, sensors ready.
Maybe the long scoring marks scarring the metal walls above and on either side of her should have tipped her off, or the massive potholes in the ground below, black and littered with bits of swoop bike. Maybe she should've known better than to fall for the trap. But by the time the bike's sensors started screaming, it was too late to turn back, and she'd seen a blip on her screen indicating there was someone not far behind her. Kark. She had nowhere else to go but through and out.

Unfortunately, there was no 'out' once you've entered Razer territory.

It happened fast. The first few bolts missed, spattering the alley wall on her left with ionic charges as she banked to avoid them, but the next volley hit their mark. Her swoop went dark, engines sputtering into silence as it began a slow plummet to the alley floor, Eryn cursing and clinging to the handlebars for dear life. It wasn't a long way to the ground but it wouldn't be a comfortable landing, and her problems were only just beginning. If she could ride it out as far as she could, hopefully she could outrun whatever gang was waiting on the dark terrain below…

…or, a Connor net could spring from the sides of the alley ahead and form a web blockade at the end of the alley.

She knew what happened to people caught in one of those things. Eryn let go immediately, tumbling roughly to the ground as the swoop skidded and bounced, careening into the net before clattering to a halt.

Up and down the alley, cheers and wild whooping erupted from the shadows.

That strange, aching pain shot through her bones as they compressed and bent with her at odd angles, saving her the trauma of broken limbs but leaving her body feeling rubbery. Eryn scrabbled at the cracked duracrete, stunned, wind gone from her lungs, but she could hear approaching footsteps and either she had to play dead or she had to move now, or—
Someone kicked her hard in the side. Unprepared, her reflexes kicked in and she curled away from the impact, squirming.

" 'ey! Got a live one 'ere!" Someone shouted. Sounds of excitement drew closer. A coldness settled in her stomach. Eryn stayed face down on the ground, gripped the dagger in its sheath on her right arm, willing air into her lungs, heart hammering. From the sound of it, they'd found her swoop bike and were either dismantling it or pulling it away.

A meaty hand seized her by the hair, dragging her to her feet. She bit her tongue against the sharp sting on her scalp, eyes smarting. The man staring back at her was short, thickly built, face painted and dirty goggles covering his eyes. He was also very dead in three, two… he opened his mouth, glee in his grin as he looked her up and down, and Eryn freed her dagger and opened his throat in one smooth sweep. He gurgled, going down hard as his fingers tore free from her hair.

With the net still up, there was nowhere to go. Clutching her dagger, Eryn ran towards one of the doors in the alley wall, the man's fresh blood on her face trailing down her cheeks, and tried the handle. Locked. She ran for the next, shouts and footfalls trailing behind her. Guess they realized she was mobile.
Locked.
The third, it had to be the third. It opened before she could grab the handle. She slashed forward, not stopping to see who was on the other end, but as he fell another replaced him from the rooms beyond. No dice. Find another way. She whirled and took off towards the far-away alley entrance, teal eyes scraping the shadows around her for something, anything, a new ride, another way out, inspiration, but she was too late. The Razers were all around her.

Someone grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She thrashed, drawing her bones in to make her smaller and slipping through his grip. Eryn buried her dagger in his chest and kicked him sharply backwards into his converging buddies, making a small dent in the ring closing around her, but it wasn't big enough. Hands clutched her arms, dragging her back as she tried to take advantage of the gap.

"Hold 'em still!!" They pulled her taught and she paused her writhing, head bent, hair hanging over her face. A quiet fell over the scene as a man with red spikes for hair and yellow tattoos circling his arms came forward, lifting the curtain of hair and bending to peer at her face. Eryn met his ugly gaze with a challenging glare. "It's…a girl?" He stared in disbelief for a moment. "…'ts just a girl."

Then he laughed crazily.

They all laughed. Hard. Like this was a show, and she was the best comedic act they'd seen in years.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

"Keep laughing Di'kut..." Air filled his lungs slowly as the Mandalorian breathed in through his nose. The wind caused his Kama to billow slightly, the sound of the city filled his ears and its smell filled his nostrils, even through the powerful air scrubbers in his helmet. He grimaced at the thought. The weight of the blaster in his hands felt good, even if it was heavier than he was used to. He rarely used the blaster at full stock length, preferring to wield it like a sawed-off blaster. With no proper scope, he had to rely on his helmet's macro-binoculars, but at this range he could have relied on the Force to guide his hand.

The ride to this rooftop had been shaky...to say the least. Idiots in the undercity didn't know how to fly, it was incredibly frustrating. He had lost his quarry's trail a few times trying not to push every car out of the way in anger.

The air slowly left his lungs, his finger squeezed the trigger and the red blasterbolt flew through the darkness, planting itself into the head of the gangster holding his prey. It burned through cheap glass and flesh as it sunk right into his right eye, near instant death. He couldn't hear if the man had screamed. Two, three, four more trigger pulls and all that was left was the idiot standing in front of Eryn.

"Karking gang bangers...Getting in the way." He slid the stock back and shoved the blaster carbine into its holster. With a running start he leaped a great distance from the building, allowing himself to free fall before activating his repulsor pack that would send him into Razer territory.

"It seems you have something of mine..." The Razer scoffed and took a few fatal steps forward,

"Look here kid, you ain't got nothin'-" He wouldn't finish his statement. A retractable blade erupted from Davin's forearm plate and planted itself neatly under his jaw. He gurgled and fell to the dirt. Davin sucked his teeth and shook his fist, the blood splattering onto the Razer he had just killed. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, heavy footsteps echoed in his ears. He could feel it before he heard him. Another Razer had taken a pipe and charged the Mandalorian. He ducked and pivoted out of the large Twi'lek's way. His legs swept under the gangster's sending the twi'lek onto his romp. He followed through with a stomp. Beskar plated boots fell onto the gangster's ribs. An audible crack and a scream made a few Razers recoil and take a few steps back. The blue T-shaped visor fell on the woman, a black armored hand reached out to her,

"You coming or am I going to have to chase you some more?"

[member="Eryn"]

 

[Eryn]

Did he just sort of…offer her a choice, twisted as it was? A semi polite (ish) bounty hunter. NOW she'd seen everything. Eryn joined the Razers in a moment of stunned silence, although hers was less about the absolute epic bloody handing-of-choobies-to-gangbangers and more about this hunter offering his hand like some kind of dark-rescue knight in shadowy armor.

Which, technically, despite his enemy status, she guessed he was right about now.

She wiped the blood off her lips with the back of her hand, staring at him, tensed as she wrestled with the urge to run. "You call that a chase? You ain't seen nothin' yet, pal." Not that there was anywhere to run to. The Razers were still gathered, albeit rethinking sticking around after watching their buddies eat dirt, and there was a well-armed man after her price tag in front of her.

It was like having to choose between a group of piranha and a shark.
Get torn apart or get sold.
She missed the days when all she had to worry about was which bar to visit first.

"Enough talkin'!" A Mirialan stepped from the ring of hesitant Razers, face marred by many a scar, goggles pushed up around his forehead, and beat his vibroswords together in challenge. "This is OUR territory. WE rule here. Y'can't fight all of us at once! We take wha' we like, an' I'll be takin' tha' shiny helmet off your corpse, Mandalorian scum…" He spat in disgust, lips twisting. "…right after I take her." He was pale, but his bravado caught like fire, burning through the rest of the gathered swoop thieves.

"..On second thought," she said, giving the alien a nauseous look, "one enemy at a time. Though how you're getting out of this one, I haven't a karking clue." And Eryn swallowed all reason, blocked out her mental alarm bells, and grabbed his armored hand.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

Behind his helmet the Mandalorian smirked and gripped the woman's hand, pulling her up. Here, he slapped a blaster pistol into her hands. The blaster was of Mandalorian design, heavily modified, but she didn't need to know that. This was indeed getting worse by the second, more and more of the scum seemed to crawl out of the gutters and windows. He sent out waves in the Force, touching the minds of his beasts. It would take time for them to get here...But if they got here in time, these thugs...well they'd save him a few credits on pet food.

"Good choice girl," he pulled his blaster from its holster and pressed a button and the stock slid into place. The blaster hummed to life as its power setting was set to kill. These thugs weren't wearing armor strong enough to stop military grade hardware, most weren't wearing any at all. His helmet tracked the movement of the thugs. There were dozens of them. Some of them were armed with blasters, more of them with crude and primitive slugthrowers. They out manned him, but he simply outgunned them.

"Come and get us then! Or are you all talk?" a blaster bolt zoomed past his head, "Well I guess that answers my question..." Without thinking he picked up his would be target and tossed her into a giant permacrete pipe laying on the ground. It was big enough for a wookie to move around in comfortably, was probably going to be used for waste and water if this place hadn't been taken by these gangsters. Blaster bolts and slugs pinged off his armor. He cursed and made a dash for the tube as well, parts of his armor still smoldering from the onslaught of blaster bolts.

"Got any plans out of this?
[member="Eryn"]

 

[Eryn]

"…you mean aside from staying alive? Yeah, gimme a second…" She crouched in the pipe, listening to the battle cries outside, borrowed blaster at the ready and eyes on the entrance. Well, both entrances, but the one looked partially blocked, pushed up against one of the buildings. The wall on the other side had crumbled away with time, leaving gaps in the stone.

Gaps that, if widened, they might be able to fit through.

She rose, quickly investigating. It wouldn't take long for the Razers to flood the pipe with bodies, and while the armored Mandalorian looked like he could take on an army, Eryn wasn't taking chances. If there was an out, a way to run, she was all over it for both their sakes.

Blaster still in hand, she brushed at the dust on the broken stone and pressed her face to one of the gaps, peering into the room beyond but it was too dark to see anything. At this point, though, whatever waited in the shadows was better than what the Razers had planned. She pulled a little at the edges, kicking at them, bits of wasted duracrete falling away. The wall was weak, but still too solid for her to crack open on her own. She could hammer on it with the butt of the pistol, but it would take more time than they probably had. "Hey." Eryn turned to face the hunter, took a moment to appreciate the irony of her situation, and hiked a thumb over her shoulder at the wall. "Found my plan. Can you get through this?--"

A volley of blaster bolts spattered against the wall of the pipe next to them. Eryn raised the pistol, seemingly aiming for the Mandalorian, but the bolts screamed just past him over his shoulder, finding their target. The Razer in question, who'd swung down from the top of the pipe, promptly collapsed.

The fugitive raised her eyebrows at the hunter, pistol smoking, and jerked her chin at the gaps in the wall. "You break rock, I'll cover you." Can't believe I just said that to a bounty hunter. But cover him she did.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

Break the rock? That's it, that was her plan? He cursed as a blaster bolt flew over his shoulder. He could hear voices, they were starting to get wise and coming down to their level. Lucky for him it would make it easier to shoot them. He nodded to the outlaw and headed further into the tube. He sighed heavily, standing before the broken wall. The Force flowed within him as he brought his hand up to, his hand contorted.

He felt his hold on the permacrete. It wobbled and then exploded back into the building with a crash. The Mandalorian looked behind him at the outlaw,

"Hey! Let's move!"

[member="Eryn"]

 

[Eryn]

She'd been expecting him to lob an explosive at the wall, or drill away at the edges with one of his weapons, or even break it down with his armored feet and fists. But blow the rock away with a wave of his hand? Well, kark, that about changed everything for Eryn.

This man could control the Force.

Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised; considering the precision of his tracking, the guy had to have had some 'magical' aid somewhere along the line because in her experience (which probably isn't as solid as she thinks it is), nobody was that good without it, but she'd never encountered a Force sensitive bounty hunter before. First time for everything, though, and had she time to think about it (and not be in the crosshairs of one such person), she'd probably approve. Using the Force as a tool for hunting? Making some money and a living off your secret weapon? Now that's a smart move. She could respect that.

Unless you were the prey. Then it just really kriffed up your whole day.

She rose from her crouched position, eyes sharp, blaster trained steadily ahead as she backed up towards their exit. A man wielding double blasters took a few steps towards them, caught sight of the hole in the wall, and quickly headed back the way he'd came before Eryn could put one in his back. The blaster bolts seemed to fly fewer and farther between as the wall crumbled inwards, and the men and women of the Underworld gang stopped charging down the pipe towards them. She could swear she heard someone yelling for everyone to back off. And they did. The crazed bloodthirsty screaming had all but stopped. Odd. She'd half expected more Razers to pour from the fresh opening, but there was only darkness, rising dust, and a fetid stink that made even Eryn choke as she neared; she'd spent plenty of nights curled up next to the garbage and sliding down trash chutes, so she knew foul smells well. The fugitive swore, gagging a little.

"Look," she coughed at the Mandalorian, jerking her chin at the other side of the pipe. Corpses littered the entrance, but it was empty and growing quiet. Immediately, Eryn was suspicious. "They're falling back..." It didn't make sense. It was two against, like, thirty, they were trapped and cornered with limited weapons, and all the Razers had to do was throw enough bodies down the pipe to overwhelm them and they'd have won the day. So why were they hesitating? It had something to do with the gaping hole of reeking darkness at her back, she figured, and if whatever was in that room could scare an entire gang of armed men? Well, it should probably scare her, too.

It should. But it didn't. She'd grown up hearing the words and learning under the mantra 'danger is real, fear is a choice', a reaction you can control, but she hadn't really understood it or believed in it until she'd had to claw her way out of a grave and face the unknown alone. Eryn wasn't entirely fearless (no one is), although she pretended to be, and maybe that was the magic answer to the age old question. She'd found that if you tell yourself enough times that you're not afraid, eventually you won't be. Whether or not you were truly unafraid or just fooling yourself into it didn't matter if it got you through the darkness.

The dark-haired young woman paused by the jagged opening, sliding the bounty hunter's masked face a wary, mistrustful look as she held her breath and ducked through the hole in the wall. His revealed Force connection would make her eventual escape more difficult. How do you counter a man who can shatter a wall with his brain? Although maybe it was limited. She knew very little about the Force and its manifestations, something she should probably brush up on after this encounter (if she managed to lose this guy).

Eryn turned to face the darkness, sidestepping the fallen stones. What tiny amount of light filtered through the pipe and into the space beyond was barely helpful. The floor under her feet was sticky, the air still and full of energy, like it was holding its breath in anticipation. She set her back to the wall next to the hole, blaster ready, eyes searching the shadows, but unless the Bucket-head had a flashlight or something, vision was useless to her here. So, she listened instead.

At first, there was nothing. Then, a muted metallic grinding, like heavy chains being dragged over stone. It stopped when she shifted her feet, accidentally kicking something into the dim spot of light from the opening in the wall. It rolled with a dry, hollow sound, coming to rest next to a cracked rock. Eryn squinted at it.

It was a large bone.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Following a hunch, the hunted-turned-temporary-ally inched along the wall, hand reaching beside her until her fingers hit something. She grabbed at the rusty metal bars, feeling the distance between them. She scraped at the soiled floor, heard the crunch of smaller bones, smelled the piles of waste…

"…It's a cage." She dragged her other hand against the wall at her back, tracing the deep claw marks. "No wonder they fell back. We gotta get out of here." The Underworld was full of illegal trade, and the black market for dangerous, exotic beasts was very active. The empty buildings provided easy 'storage' and the treacherousness of the Underworld itself was enough to deter anyone from snooping around or calling authorities, but the animals were often mistreated, starved for days, injected with drugs to keep them under control. From the looks of the gnawed bone, no one had been by to check in for a long time. Maybe whatever was here was dead, then. Maybe all they had to do was find the door and walk right now. Maybe their luck had improved.

|- [member="Davin Skirata"] -|

 

[Jak Skirata]

"…It's a cage."
He nodded. Indeed it was a cage, and a large one at that. There was something that was causing the hair to stand up on the back of his neck, something sinister was about. Their footsteps echoed in the dark chamber with a subtle squish. They were probably walking on or through what had been dinner. The stench was horrible, a mix of feces and decay. How could they leave whatever was in here like this? He reached out in the Force, searching for what it was. His mind touched something, it was sleeping, its emotions and thoughts a tumultuous storm of hate and anger. Something woke within it, a powerful glare so ominous Davin recoiled physically, bumping into Eryn.

"We need to get out of here." Obviously she had just said that, but the urgency in his voice told a different story. "I don't know how they're keeping that thing here," he muttered as his hands tapped against the wall, trying to find another weak spot. "Its going to wake up soon-" he was cut off. A gust of wind blew by Eryn and suddenly Davin wasn't there. A pungent smell wafted over her as well as an unnatural uneasiness, where she might not have been afraid before such thoughts may have been now beyond her control.

The sound of metal slamming against permacrete echoed throughout the chamber. Davin groaned and turned on his helmet's flashlight illuminating the Standing about as tall as a rancor and with massive horns and patchy black fur, the visage of the feral To Vhin became clear to both Davin and Eryn.

Spoiler

I realized that the image for the species isn't showing up so...

[member="Eryn"]