Under the Tusken Suns [Past RP] [Open to Past Mercs]

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Today was a mercenary 'field day'. Some victimized farmers (family of people who had been murdered by the vagabond warriors) and a Hutt crimelord who had finally had enough of Sand People raiding his sail barges at night had put together a fun little bounty: Two hundred credits per Tusken. And the approximate coordinates of their current camping spot had been provided for convenience. It was basically up to whoever was brave or greedy enough to go out and slay the tribe. They were going to be paid for murder--and all for the greater good!

Honestly. It was for the greater good.

Enter: Geneviève Lasedri. Though she just went by Gen during these days. No one needed to know how pedigreed she was and how prissy she had originally been raised. She was a tough girl now--nineteen years and one half, clothes as black as her mussy, raven hair, and a weapon-wielding fighter-for-hire. And, even if one could not take such a young woman so seriously as a hired gun, no one could actually deny that she was a good shot.

Today she had gotten together with a group of mercenaries known as the Blackballers. Yeah, that was a great title, but whatever. She was going to be a cool cat and commit some Sand Person genocide. Not like the Sand People did not deserve it, anyway. They were rather guilty in the genocidal department themselves. Which was why big credits were being offered to killers--or soon-to-be-killers like Gen.

Straddling a rented, rusty speeder bike that looked like it was missing a muffler or something else important, Lasedri checked around to see if her crew was ready to go. Yeah, she was tough. But she was not going it alone here. "Gonna be a frakkin' mess," she muttered, wiping the sand off the faded speed gauge. Way too much sun out here, too. Chandrila was always better. It just sucked because her parents had all their stuff there.

[member="Tusk"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Lurcano Car'dann"], [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Before the wolf, before he put on his armor, before he was known mainly for his bloodlust and constant, unending rage, there was a young man named Preliat Mantis. Preliat Mantis was born on Ordo, and left home shortly after to play Null-Hockey. He was good at what he did, and was considered by many to be a rising star. But- he gave it all up. The models. The sport. The violent nature of the sport. He gave it all up, simply because he wasn't happy. And he needed purpose.

Turns out, spiritual journeys are expensive, and once they terminate your hockey contract, you're more or less broke. He tapped his hand on the speeder, laying the cheap rifle across it. It was just some rinky-dink blaster rifle. Nothing special. He wasn't wearing anything particular special either, a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, sunglasses, and cargo pants and some worn out boots.

The girl he spotted, [member="Geneviève Lasedri"], he did not know. He smiled at her, her reflection in the dark gray-lenses of his sunglasses. He looked out to the horizon, feeling at home in the desert.


"Just like home."He said with a smile.

 

[Lurcano Car'dann]

Everyone had their beginnings, no matter how humble. Lurcano was no exception to that rule. Many knew the brash, unkempt, Sergent-At-Arms of the Ravens. Little knew of the events that made him the man he was before joining the organization that was known across the Galaxy. This was his story...

A snorting sound would resound across the dunes, as Lurcano heaved and coughed. A few seconds later, a glob of phlegm flew from Lurcanos mouth and landed upon the sand dunes. It was a mix of various greens and browns, and a second later a guttural sound came from the back of Lurcano's throat as he tried to clear the obstruction. "Damn, that chit tastes nasty. This sun is to damn karking bright. Whatever. Let's just get this job done so I can get paid."

He was leaning forward on his speeder bike as it idled silently, waiting for them to get their job done. He knew little of his companions. Other then the occasional innuendo aimed towards Gen's way, he didn't speak to them very much. The Mandalorian was a complete oddity to him. Their cultures and personalities differed so much that he didn't bother trying to get into friendly terms with the man. 'What a rag tag bunch of adventures we turned out to be huh?'

"Come on then. If I sit out here any longer, I'll bake." As he said this, Lurcano revved the motors in his speeder bike paying no mind to the engines staunch protests. 'It's a rental. If I break it, what's the worst that could happen. Not like he can make me pay for it? Right?'

[member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

One thing she had learned about mercenaries in general was that they were all generally weird in some way or another. That kind of made sense, though, considering the profession they chose. Who knows? Maybe Gen was weird to the, too. Not that she ever gave them much to talk about, but there was always something to pick out from a personality. But she was not the insane type who carried around the biggest, most tricked-out guns for no reason other than that they were big and tricked-out. An E-11 or ascattergun was always capable of doing the job just fine.

"Alright. Not like I've been waiting for you guys or anything." She kicked the starter to the beat-up speeder bike and set in gear with a choking roar, zooming off towards the western-most sun with a cloud of millennia-old dust trailing her. Sand particles bit into her knuckles as she sped across the eternal desert, and her black hair became a little 'blond' with the golden grains flinging up into her forehead. Why did anyone live here?

The Tusken camp was not too far away from the little settlement the squad had come from, but it was still far enough away to be out of range of hearing the firefight that would soon ensue. Something invisible--something she had no recognition of almost subconsciously prompted her to make an abrupt jerking move with her body, ducking down low with chin nearly to the controls. Geneviève thought she heard the scream of a bullet just over her head not a moment after, and she thanked whatever that 'instinct' was before a spout of curses at the group of banthas not far away. "Frak, I've been spotted," she alerted her squadmates over the shrot-range comm.

[member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Lurcano Car'dann"]

 

[Lurcano Car'dann]

Chuckling, Lurcano kicked his own bike into gear. He raced after Gen, not bothering to check whether or not the other mercenary would follow them or not. He quickly maneuvered himself in to a position so that he was only a few yards off from Gen to her left. 'Alright, calm down Lurc. Just another job. Try not to think about the fact that you're going to be killing countless amounts of woman and children.' Despite the fact that Lurcano acted with much bravado and confidence, those were things he didn't truly feel.

This was the first job he was ever going to attempt which would actually involve him massacring innocents. He wouldn't have given the offer a second look if it wasn't for the fact that he was so short on credits. The same thought played over and over in his head as he tried to justify his reasons for taking this job. 'They're nothing. Not even human. Why should I care about them? Am I not more important then they are in every way? Why I should I comprise my survival so a few disgusting subhuman Tusken Raiders can live out the rest of their days on this chithole of a planet. They're nothing. Nothing.'

Lurcano was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't notice the jerking motion that almost wrenched Gen off of her bike. He probably would have drove straight into a bullet if Gen's voice hadn't filtered through into his comm to warn him about what was going on. "Kark. They've spotted us!"

Quickly moving into action, the guns that were mounted on his speeder bike stuttered for a moment before powering up. Keeping his head down low his eyes scanned the perimeter as he looked for their attackers. While his eyes struggled to find the raiders, he heard the sounds of the Tusken's primitive but effective slug throwers whizzing past their heads. Finally, he spotted them. They were on a dune towards the right of them. He quickly relayed this information through their comm channel. "I see them! 2 O'clock, to our right! I think they're trying to lead us away from their camp. I will go deal with them. You guys continue on with our original mission."

Veering away from their small group, he headed straight for the raiders. He increased the power to his bike and he rose several more feet off the ground till he was nearly level. That was when the small laser cannons on his bike began to pound away. They destroyed the top of the dune and piles of sand were sent everywhere. Lurcano couldn't see a damn thing. As he continued forward, eyes searching for the Raiders who had ran at the first sign of trouble, his own mind raced. 'Even if I don't manage to tag them with a stray bolt, I'll be doing my job. They won't be able to get back and warn their village.'

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]