Weekend Treasure Hunt 29: Choose Your Own Indenture (open)

[Jorus Merrill]

Spoiler

I: Derelict - 202 posts - started August 2014
II: Diamond in the Rough - 96 posts - started August 2014
III: What We Leave Behind - 49 posts - started September 2014
IV: Cannibal Stormtrooper Death Star - 117 posts - started September 2014
V: Just The Facts, Ma’am - 55 posts - started September 2014
VI: Starweirds and Ladders at the Spires of Hell - 30 posts - started September 2014
VII: Darkest of Paths - 26 posts - started October 2014
VIII: Extragalactic Death World - 101 posts - started November 2014
IX: Engines of Death - 45 posts - started November 2014
X: Lore of the Dark Side - 58 posts - started December 2014
XI: Archives of the Ancient - 29 posts - started January 2015
XII: The Last Will and Testament of Rave Merrill - 119 posts started January 2015
XIII: Starlight, Starfight - 10 posts - started January 2015
XIV: This Is Spaarti - 30 posts - started February 2015
XV: The Cursed Holocrons - 100 posts - started February 2015
XVI: Against the Fall of Night - 77 posts - started March 2015
XVII: Blazing the Blood Trail - 37 posts - started March 2015
XVIII: Dark Mirror - 23 posts - started May 2015
XIX: Blood of Corellia - 14 posts - started May 2015
XX: You Never Walk Alone - 44 posts - started August 2015
XXI: In Too Deep (short story contest) - 15 posts - started November 2015
XXII: Kaas City Fallout - 14 posts - started November 2015
XXIII: A Fistful of Denarii - 108 posts - started January 2016
XXIV: Infinity: At Last We Will Have Revenge - 218 posts - started January 2016
XXV: Terrible Hothpitality - 80 posts - started July 2016
XXVI: In Purgatory’s Shadow - 46 posts - started October 2016
XXVII: Tatooine Trainwreck - 13 posts - started May 2017
XXVIII: Should You Choose To Accept It - 4 posts - started June 2017

TRANDOSHAN SLAVER CAMP​

BOG MOON OF BOGDEN​

For the record, this is what Hell looks like if you're from Tatooine. Marshy ground hummocks up from green water as thick as syrup. Instead of an open sky, your view above is overcast and blocked by grimy trees. Instead of free wind and wide open spaces, you're shackled and being eaten alive by skeeterbugs. Several Trandoshan transports brought you all here, to the slave pens of the Bog Moon. You don't know where your belongings are, though you might see one or two of your treasures stuffed through a Trandoshan's gunbelt. It's a hot, muggy day and the slavers are hogging the best shade, just outside your pens. You've already seen fellow captives sicken and die.

Tonight might be your chance. The Trandos are celebrating over a pile of bloody gemstones, and they've dipped too hard into the Whyren's and the ryll kor. A stoned Trando can still pull a trigger, but maybe not fast enough to keep you from doing...something.


OPTION ONE: Try to bribe, persuade, or trick some of the Trandoshans to let you go free.

OPTION TWO: Start a fight, lure a Trandoshan within arm's length of the laser fence, and take his weapons and keys. You would probably need to act quickly.

OPTION THREE: Try to hotwire part of the laser fence and dig an escape tunnel under some knotty roots. Your tunnel would lead into wild jungle.

OR: Do whatever you like, but good luck...


OOC/ Only real thing to know is to just keep posting and doing your thing. I'll toss you new opportunities and potential plot happenings as needed.

 

[Joy]

A rather large mound of rags huddled to one corner of the pen twitched and sat up. Two beady black eyes squinted from a wrinkled and very long face.

Last thing he remembered was telling Vloz Whitescale "I don't do that anymore" and then the butt of a Trandoshan rifle smacking him square between the eyes.

"Oh dear." Warbled the Chevin as he took in the grim view. Nostrils flared at the unfortunately all too familiar smells created by huddling together a mass of unwashed sentients like chattel. He sat up.

"Sso, you're finally awake," rasped a cold-blooded voice.

Directly across from him, on the other side of a the laser fence, stood a T'doshok. The reptilian was tall and muscle-bound, like most of his kind, but a scale glared out from his forehead, white where the rest were green.

"Vloz," chuffed the Chevin.

"Phylusss, old friend, I will give you another chance, for the sssake of your family."

"I am done with that way of life, Vloz. You can be too."

The Trandoshan shook his head in disgust. "Ssso be it." He took a swig from a bottle of Whyren's, then wandered off to join the rest of his people in their celebration.

Phylus, alone with his thoughts and surrounded by strangers destined for a life beneath the lash (or worse), hung his head.

 

[Nicair Claden]

(Will be doing my own thing. Hope you don't mind. Thinking outside the box got me looking up if teeth conduct electricity. They don't by the way, let's read to find out why that's relevant.)

The most prolific killers are never caught. The most efficient killers, can do it while being held captive themselves. Few would find a certain level of contentment inside the laser fence and though being held captive brought back a slew of painful memories, and an oath that is currently being twisted and bent so far to breaking it could snap and kill someone, Nicair was going to accept the challenge. What challenge is this? The challenge of refining his technique, making himself a more efficient and deadlier killer. Without any wars to fight and an abandoned faction left behind him he reverted to his more primal nature. Stripping away the guise of a soldier, warrior, Mandalorian, Nicair was a killer, trained in the pits of a forgotten underworld. He would escape, and he was going to hunt these slavers like animals. With his armor he was fast and his blows leveled the strong, without, he was yet faster but he would have to rely on his flesh and bones, his stealth and silence.

The guards rotated every half hour give or take a few minutes, he was keeping time by wiggling a finger, the inconsistency perturbed him. Their rotation was sloppy and it was obvious they were inebriated by something, swollen to overconfidence. A head on assault would be foolhardy, the man would be overwhelmed by the sheer strength and number. He was good, but he didn't have the force to aid him. He prided himself on his ability to survive in the jungle, many big game hunts he had been on took numerous days to complete and after awhile he simply stopped buying rations and took a more savage route. This extended the hunts by a substantial amount but the satisfaction of killing his prey as any other animal, any other "monster" was so natural and mind numbing a high that he was more than willing to take a few extra days to build his strength and knowledge of the area. So too he would do here. In his time spent watching he had yet to see more than one scout leave their camp at a time. The others didn't seem to venture too far off. Distant cackling disturbed his thoughts, it distracted his guards more fully. Story time.

His plan required sacrifice, determination, and no small amount of luck. The instant something crossed between the fence's beams the electricity zapped it. Method set. Now for a partner, this dance needed two. By his count he had around one to three minutes for the next guard exchange. He waited two minutes and thirteen seconds for a small specimen to shamble over, useful, with large teeth that poked out of its mouth, luck. To say that he attempted to speak any manner of Dosh was offensive to the language and the species, he was simply hissing with a profound lisp towards the guard. Trandoshans were not an overall unintelligent species, but they were fairly sensitive. Just as planned the lizard turned and started angrily shambling towards him, whether his impersonation had worked or he was simply displeased at missing the spoils. Something glinted from the waist of the creature, something very familiar. The Mandalorian's own tomahawk rested along the lizards dirty belt. He hissed again and coiled his upper lip, this time he fully meant to offend.

The lizard took an agonizingly long time to get within grabbing distance but the closer he got the easier it would become. As luck would have it, the thing got its snout within inches of the fence. Those teeth, so open, so welcoming, just needed more space. Nicair grinned and leaned backwards in a motion common amongst more primitive apes of displaying their manhood. He bounced around on his hands and just as the Trandoshan's mouth growled open to expose those beautiful shining stabbers, Nicair hopped forward and his arms shot through the fence latching on with electrified grip to the two largest teeth the creature had. Fun fact, when someone is electrocuted their entire body spasms, keep the current going long enough and all the muscles clench at once, that's what throws many people backwards. This is what Nicair needed, and he was willing to sacrifice some nerves to do so. Another fact, dry teeth don't conduct electricity, dryness that could be achieved by teeth that lie outside of the mouth. To say the attempt at being fast enough to grab the teeth, orient his body so that it would fly backwards at the correct angle and make sure no part of him was touching the Trandoshan that could send the current his way was more of a challenge than he expected. But, some old and forgotten god that Nicair didn't believe in favored him, by the time his body had stopped convulsing the Trandoshan's shoulders were effectively in the stream of the current.

Speed was of the essence, he had to be fast yet delicate enough not to break or pull the teeth and do all of it while fighting the Trandoshan's owns clenched body. His own body appeared to spasm as it took him more than a few swift heaves to get the body into the cell with him, the effort was quite tiring but it was done. His tomahawk was within reach but to bleed an enemy, to him, was so much less rewarding that feeling the very air drain from their lungs. His hands pressed down on the lizard's throat and an almost manic joy took him. Either that or it was the aftereffects of the electricity.

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

(Sorry [member="Phylus"], I was writing my response while yours posted. Let's just agree we're in different cages and areas, makes things simple.)

 

[Kista Bralor]

[SIZE=18pt]Option Three![/SIZE]​

​

The sweltering heat was deceptive and Kista knew it. There was vast amount of moisture in the air and it made it hard to tell when you need to rehydrate yourself. Not that they were getting plenty of fluids from their captors. That was one part of the equation why her fellow captives were dying off. The other reasons had to do the boggy marsh. It was a breading group for disease. Just a bite from when of the bugs could mean you catching an illness. The stagnate waters you could catch a virus there as well. Mix in the captives did not have adequate lavatories and you have a major sanitation issue.

Today her chances were changing. Her captives had a huge score. Their greed was visible as they celebrated around a pill of gem stones. Kista had seen greed before. It was a distasteful sin that destroyed ones Manda. Her blood pumped with the vigor Kad’Hingier. Her lips twisted into s sneer. It was tonight she was going to make her move.

[SIZE=16pt]Later That Night[/SIZE]​

​

Kista did not have very many items to do much of anything with. She had one beskar bobby pin she used to keep up some portion of her hair with. Luckily they brutes did not know what type of metal it was and that the plan metal item in her hair was harmless as well as worthless. She also had boot laces. An old piece of gum she kept hidden under her tongue. She had her belt. She also still had her knowledge and determination. She also had the jungle around her.

The best location of her escape she found days ago was the southeast fence line. If she could get passed at that location she could climb under the root system of a great tree. It was provide concealment and better chance of slipping off into the jungle. That evening she had moved over to that part of the fence line by herself. There was one metal pillar over there that housed power to that section of the fence. To make it less suspicious she rubbed the side of her head that had the bobby pin. She slipped it off and hand it cupped in the inside of her hand.

In her hand she now twisted the small piece of metal to a more useful shape. With a make shift tool now in hand she looked around. None of the guards were looking at this section of the fence. They were to busy drinking it up and celebrating. It did not appear none of the other slaves were watching her. So she quietly started to do a screw on the metal pillar. After awhile she had not been noticed and got enough screws off to take a small panel off. There were a number of wires located here. Looking closely she thought over what she could make out. Each wire meant something. They all had a purpose. Not handling this carefully and she could take down the whole laser fence. That would be bad. Then her captive would know something was wrong. Then she would not be able to escape.

Kista pulled a wire. It was just one beam of laser wire from one pillar two another. It was maybe six feet distance between each pillar? With it turn off Kista quickly crawled through and into the root system of the great tree. Seconds after she made it through the line in the laser fence reactivated. It was almost if it was never turned off. The only noticeable thing was a small metal plate was off one of the pillars. It was dark out over in a section far from the Trandoshan camp fire. Who would notice? How long would it be before anyone would notice?

Climbing through the root system Kista made her way out and into the jungle. Silently making her way through the dark, she did not move quickly. Kista used cover and the darkness to cover he movements. Her footing was well placed. Methodically she moved like a wraith. She needed to survive. She could just go out into the jungle but eventually they would just hunt her. Right now she had the element of surprise. She circled around and headed back to the showed edged of the camp. She needed weapons and the opportunity to quickly and quickly take out her prey.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] @Phylus @Nicair Claden

 

[Shaddi]

A few bubbles indicated to the others around to move as the figure erupted out from the muck and expelled the foul air in his lungs before sucking the not as foul air in once more. Falling forwards as the muck covered him and his long white hair wasn't so white anymore as he crawled slightly forwards before getting a proper foothold. With his hands moving to his face to wipe away the muck and grime from his face before he turned his head around in the motions of looking around.

What was the last thing he remembered before he was thrown into the middle of the cage. A diplomatic mission? To where? what for? He couldn't remember, his mind too fuzzy to even manage it and he realized why, he had been drugged with something powerful. "Stinking lizards.." He muttered as he spat into the muck bellow him and looked around. Many of them didn't really stand out but a chevin, [member="Phylus"], did. Seeing through the force made those trained in it or sensitive to it stand out quite a bit.

Making his way slowly towards the long faced light sider, looking more annoyed than anything really. "They drug you too?" He asked as he moved to take a seat next to him. Wiping his face once more before spitting into the grime bellow. His black robes made of the finest silk was ruined beyond cleaning, tattered, torn and the grime seemed to have fused with the robes themselves. On the robes shoulders was emblazoned the mark of Shawken, though it was barely visible through the dirt and muck.

The drug seemed to be designed to mess with his mind, his sense of focus and concentration to deny him the force while his body seemed to move as it was supposed to, only slightly more sluggish than normal. Immediately he began to try and focus the force to achieve the skill of Curato Salva, an attempt to flush the drug out of his system.

[member="Kista Bralor "] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Sam Paige]

Option 3- ish

She was still pretty woozy. The knock to the back of the head wasn't helping anything, but whatever they'd drugged her with, that was worse. It left everything hazy, distracting, the lights too bright and the shadows too deep.

Sam Paige was fairly easy to over look. She was quiet, tended to keep to herself. In a way, an ideal captive for the rowdy Trandoshans. On the surface anyway.

Huddled in the far corner of one of the pens, the girl seemed lost in thought, distracted as she fiddled with a twig or something in her lap. Just one more person lost, confused, and not really knowing or seeing a way out of the situation. So it would be easy to miss how her hand snaked out, fingers grasping at a bit of wire, just a few centimeters long, and drawing it into her lap.

Deep blue eyes glanced up for a moment, checking to see if anyone had noticed before returning to the gadget she'd been jury rigging for the last few hours. It shouldn't have taken this long, but contending with the bloody gash over her eye where she'd been hit, her broken glasses and whatever they'd put in their food, well, she thought she was making pretty good progress.

Out into the jungle? Absolutely not.

Sam was going to get out of this pen and take one of their *ships*.

She glanced up again, gaze skirting about before she scooted over to the corner of the pen she occupied with a dozen others. If this worked, she'd drop just the far side and hopefully use the cover of darkness to reach the nearest vessel.

 

[Sunblade]

A single blueish-purplish eye cracked open.

Not because he was trying to convey the casually blasé attitude typical of rogues and scoundrels who found themselves in adverse situations.

The other was throbbing and swollen and where the hell am I.

With a lurch, Ari painted the soil between his legs the off red of half-digested meat and liquor. Great.

“Feeeeeth.”

He leaned on the immobile creature behind him. Dead or alive, he couldn’t care. Skull was about to crack open above his left eye, his jaw was rusted closed, his ribs ached like he’d gotten into fisticuffs with Puppy. He rolled his sandpaper tongue around his arid mouth, sniffing at the stale air. With some effort, the strapless young lad focused his vision on the world beyond the confines of the pen.

Oh. Pen.

Hah.

“Feth.”

Well, at least it smelled like home.

“So,” he croaked at nobody in particular, “anyone here got a cigarette?”


[member="Darth Erebos"] | [member="Kista Bralor "]| [member="Nicair Claden"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Phylus"] | [member="Sam Paige"]

 

[Kista Bralor]

[SIZE=18pt]Option Three![/SIZE]​

Trying to steal from those who have stolen you!​

​

Kista moved, but moved every few seconds. She only moved when she felt no one was looking. Most of the Trandoshans were looking at each other as they partied. When they did look out, they looked away from their fire and out into darkness. It was an advantage Kista had. Even the Trandoshans had to take time for their eyes to adjust to from bright lighted conditions to near total darkness.

Moving around to a quieter side of the camp Kista came to a cloth tent. She sat there crouched down for a couple of minutes listening. After some time when she felt confident enough she used her metal bobby pin like a utility knife. She poked the canvas cloth of the tent. After poking it through Kista stopped. She kept it there for a breath. Just to see if anyone stirred in the tent. No one did and it did not seem like anyone was alerted to her presence. She felt safe enough, so she slid the metal down slowly cutting the cloth. It was a slow motion and did not move the tent to terribly much. Maybe slightly like a small breeze?

There was a hole in the tent large enough for her to crawl through now. Crawling through Kista came into the tent. These were sleeping material and some bags. She began to open one of the bags closest to her. First thing she had seen was a protein bar. “Food”, she whispered and began to open it up as quietly as possible. Taking a bite with her other hand she started to rummage around in the bag again. There was water, and hunting knife. There was nothing else of worth to Kista in that bag.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Phylus"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Darth Erebos"] [member="Sam Paige"] [member="Sunblade"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

To say the man had entered a haze during his strangulation of the Trandoshan was probably as close to a description as could be found. All his instincts, his weight, his mind was focused on the task at hand; choking the life from a naturally physically stronger being. Strangling something, anything, especially something as large as a Trandoshan, even a comparably small one as Nicair's victim, took quite some time. This was relative to other means of dispatching an enemy such as grabbing its blaster, grabbing his own tomahawk and making all sorts of cuts and chops. But no, he had to have the feeling. The creature died staring at him, its purple tongue waggling, eyes ready to burst, muffled sounds escaped. As the adrenaline cleared enough for him to be lucid he understood the slight folly of his actions. While strangulation could have been one of the quietest means of killing- at least for the moment- there was still the matter of the electrical crackling that had sounded by their struggle. Such is the way the fences, in Nicair's case it was more of a cage, worked. Alert the guards, hurt those within. In a rush he grabbed the guard's key and ripped his beskar tomahawk from the thief's belt and crept as fast as he dared towards the small gated door.

Once he had opened the door he crept away from the center of the camp, that way lay danger, the jungle was probably safer. He would be back once he had gotten a better lay of the land, both in the direction the lizards appeared to be going and a certain perimeter around it. He stopped for the briefest of moments when he saw more fences in his path. More slaves sat around within them, some alien, some appearing to be human. His pause was over quickly as he stalked along the edge of the fence, just far enough away so the small light emanating from the edge didn't illuminate him to long distance eyes. He chided himself as a couple of the captives crawled to the perimeter and began a sad display of begging, the ones that could stand and function at least. Some even went so far as to offer him something he could just as easily pay for in the dark back alleys of Coruscant if he so had the interest. Desperation makes people do strange things. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted by the captives, when seen logically not saving any of them at the moment made the most sense. They would slow him down, make too much noise, die in the jungle and stink up the place forcing him to move on before he was ready. Not that he much wanted to help any of them. He was here for his own purposes.

Though, to quiet them down or give them some false sense of hope, he held a finger up to his lips to silence them. His creeping toward the jungle continued uninterrupted until he found a tree that served his purposes. If they found out he had escaped before moving on, which was likely, they would search outward into the jungle, not up. Many species have gone extinct because they didn't look up, Trandoshans evolved as hunters on their planet, their culture and religion to this "Scorekeeper" pushed a lifestyle of hunters. Predators don't need to look up, prey does. It's the skillful predator that can think like prey, combine the two and you have something truly dangerous. He was going to wait them out, scan the immediate area, and track.

[member="Kista Bralor "]| [member="Sunblade"] | [member="Sam Paige"] | [member="Darth Erebos"] | @Phylus

 

[Sunblade]

“Fine then,” Ari grumbled, scratching his stubbled cheek. “Be like that.”

Bemoaning his aching body, the Beasten of Onderon, Arathul Moriir Shamalain, rose to his feet. Truly, he was the pinnacle of nobility and royal blood in that moment.

Mostly just blood, though.

Rubbing the drunken sleep from his good eye, he stumbled over to the laser bars of the pen.

“Hey, scaleface!”

The trandoshan guard turned on the spot, overswaying a bit for the bottle – oooh, Whyren’s – in his clawed hand. His gaze spoke of unspeakable things.

“Yeah, you. You got a cig, by any chance? I’m all out.” He grinned his best smile, revealing rows of menacing fangs that had no business being in such a pretty mouth.

“Ssshut up, ssslave.”

“Hey now. No need to be rude man, I just asked you a fethin’ question. You got a cig or not, you scaled motherk—”

With two long strides, the lizard was there, swinging that bottle straight at his face. Sluggish with drink and drugs, Ari didn’t manage anything more than a slow side-stumble. Way too slow.

“Faaher!” the Beasten yelled as his ass hit the ground, blood dripping from his crooked nose and into his mouth. “Ah eh onteh a sih!”

The trandoshan laughed and spat at the boy for good measure.

“Ha haaaa! Hu issed!”

Ari had once been acquainted with the concept of quitting, but they hadn’t really gotten along. Didn’t matter though – the slaver had already ambled back to the main group, never bothering to wipe the blood off the bottle as he took another swig.

“Astahd.”

He wiped the red trickle from his lips, swallowing the rest. Whatever. Not like he wasn’t used to the taste of blood. He furrowed his brow, rubbing his cheek again. His throat was unreasonably tight.

Fethin’ alcohol.

Ari dropped his hand, leaning back against a slumbering houk. His pale blue gaze feel to the earth between his toes – felt so much like home. Like Onderon. Shet. Throat drew tighter, and before he knew it, he was tracing his fingers frantically along the three thin lines on his wrist.

Eyes squeezed shut, lungs full of breathless air – Mom?


[member="Quietus"] | [member="Darth Erebos"] | [member="Kista Bralor "]| [member="Nicair Claden"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Phylus"] | [member="Sam Paige"]

 

[Kay-Larr]

~OPTION 1~​

Kay woke up in her own private cage, her head throbbing. It wasn't until she brought her hands up to her head that she realized she was shackled. Not good. Her gown was muddied and damp in places from the high humidity. What in the Force happened? Laughter in the low light of the evening caught her attention. She slowly sat up and looked over to see a sight that brought a chill down her spine. Trandoshans. Was [member="Sareen Zar"] there? She couldn't quite tell. But she had avoided capture by him for years, and had even held him in prison for a time. But he had escaped, and now here she was, potentially in his hands.

She tried to think of how it had happened, but her memories were foggy. How much time had passed? Was anyone else hurt? Another look around brought to bear the sight of other cages. Some captives were moving about, working on different ways to escape while others seemed to have not woken up yet.

But then she spotted someone that she knew; [member="Darth Erebos"] . He was speaking with another. What were the odds? Were they at a meeting together? Is that what had happened? Kay couldn't remember. She called out to him in a whisper, "PSSSST!!! Erebos!! Ereboss, it's Kay!!" She even waved her shackled arms a bit so that the movement might catch his attention.

To know that she wasn't alone gave her hope. But still, surely the Trandoshans knew that holding a Head of State was very dangerous for them. Especially one that had a lot of allies.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Phylus"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Kista Bralor "][member="Sam Paige"] [member="Sunblade"]

 

[Shaddi]

The chevin didn't seem to answer right away so he decided to look around a bit. the drug made it hard but he did notice something.. familiar. "Well I'll be damned [member="Lady Kay"]?" He said to himself as he waved his hand towards her, that's when he noticed it. A metal bracelet was attached to his forearm, he speculated it was keeping his body nice and pumped full of the drug that kept him groggy. "So they figured I was a force sensitive but not who I am.." He muttered before looking towards Kay and letting out in a whisper. "You have any Idea who these guys are?" He asked as he got as close to the fence as he could were he would face kay.

He didn't like how the drug made him feel and how groggy it made his mind. With his sight he began to examine the armband while listening to whatever Kay might be saying. He was glad to at least see a friendly face among those in this mess. Besides [member="Phylus"], T'zanith was also seeing two other force sensitives, one trained and the other... not so much.
In the back of his mind he began to asses the situation and began to come up with a plan, of some sort to get out of this mess.

[member="Sunblade"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Kista Bralor "] [member="Sam Paige"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Quietus]

Half a galaxy away in the arguably safe confines of a particular major criminal port was Onderon's ex-Beastia, presently engrossed in ...business of sorts.

The magicked link between herself and her children was not for play nor for casual exchange. It was to be used only in emergencies.

Life threatening emergencies.

So when one of them plucked on the mental chord she took it seriously.

Moriir ... speak.

[member="Sunblade"]

 

[Sam Paige]

"Tssst," Sam tsked to herself.

On the one hand, [member="Sunblade"]'s shenanigans had provided the cover she actually needed to mask the *zot ztot* sound of powering down the back side of the pen. On the other hand, guy had just gotten his face messed up for no good reason other than a cigarette.

Sam didn't know how the folks in the other pens were fairing. She couldn't think that far ahead. The red head wasn't a Jedi. She wasn't a hero. She was just *Sam*. If any of the other members of the Vigil had been here, they probably would have known exactly what to do and how to do it. But her? She was just the mechanic.

"For feth's sake," she whispered, trying out one of the curse words the rest of the crew threw around without concern.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it. She'd worry about that later.

The low hum of the back wall died and Sam looked up, a little wide eyed and frozen for a moment. Waiting to see if they noticed. While some of the other slaves in the pen certainly did, the Trandoshans seemed perfectly oblivious. For now.

"Hey. Psst. Hey," Sam leaned over, nervously poking the bleeding man's calf. "Get up. Gonna get out of here, okay?"

Sam had never been so terrified.


OOC: No idea who is in my pen! Dealer's choice!

 

[Sunblade]

I’m… he felt the flush of shame heating his cheeks, two-fold.

For one, there was a particular color to the voice of his mother. He knew her lilt well, having grown up with her harsh, succint lessons. This was… decidedly warmer, and Ari was decidedly certain he didn’t want know anything about what made his mother hot under the collar.

Secondly, he was the fething Beasten.

Anger at his own weakness precluded the shame, and he swallowed the knot in his throat.

I was captured. By... slavers. But I’ll, he licked his chapped lips, deal with them presently. Mother.

He opened his eyes, drawing the sweltering swamp air deep into his lungs.

Just like hunting Maalraas.

In truth, the jungle beasts were a much tougher kill than any trandoshan. It was merely a saying Ari had adopted over the years of stalking through Onderon’s dense, dangerous forests. The severe conditions had wrought a skilled stalker out of a snotty child – his mother was one of those.

I just wanted…

Whatever he wanted to say fled his mind as someone prodded him in the side. In a blur of movement, Ari twisted on the spot and went to grab the would-be attacker, fingers strong enough to leave bruises with a merciless grip.

[member="Sam Paige"] | [member="Quietus"]

 

[Quietus]

Slavers?

....


....how the feth did Slavers get ahold of her son?

Well, a question better asked at another time. Her current situation presently insisted on undivided attention. If nothing else, the Slavers were about to be in for a bad day. Quietus did not approve of slavery. Onderon's Irontown and Scarside Ridge prison facilities had seen a healthy population of them over the years.

You know what to do with Slavers.


Feed them to the beast, didn't need to be said.


You got this, Gahiji.



[member="Sunblade"]

 

[Kay-Larr]

Oh good! She caught his attention! The hum of energy coming from the bars of her cage let her know they were energized, so she got as close to them as she dared. Her gown was heavy while it was wet and the shackles didn't help.

Kay whispered loudly again to [member="Darth Erebos"] . "I don't know. But they're too busy tending to themselves. My guess is that it was some kind of raiding party. I don't think that they know who they've caught. Are you hurt at all?" She didn't want to ask if he had access to the Force. For the moment she didn't try herself. It was still a secret among most and she didn't want to risk having it revealed.

Her eyes drifted to some of the Trandoshans that were either taunting people in some of the other cages or celebrating amongst themselves. Kay wondered if she could bribe them. But if they were going to hold her for ransom, there was no guarantee that that would work. But threats could always work too. She did have a military force at her beck and call. She just needed to find out where they were. Her Force bond with her husband [member="Veiere Arenais"] would get help on it's way once she'd try to reach him. But she didn't want him to have reason to worry everytime she left the safety of Commenor.

[member="Phylus"] [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Sam Paige"] [member="Sunblade"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Kista Bralor "]

 

[Sam Paige]

Alright. So terrifying clearly didn't cover the feeling of a moment ago. She'd need a new word for frightening beyond belief now, because she realized very, very quickly that she'd made a horrible mistake.

Because there she was, his grip on her like cold iron, fingers digging painfully into her hand. Wide blue eyes looked up at him, and her mouth opened and closed for a second before she finally got out a tiny-

"You're hurting me."

She'd been mostly focused on what she'd been doing, and she hadn't really paid any attention to him.

Sweet fancy Coruscant.

Tattoos. Dreads. Piercings.

"Please let go."

[member="Sunblade"]

 

[Joy]

A man came down and sat beside Phylus and said hello. Suddenly, from another pen there came a gurgling and the sounds of a scuffle. Phylus' head swung in that direction, a cumbersome movement. Large eyebrows raised and lowered in an expression of concern.

"Hm," he turned back to the fellow, only to find that he had already stood up and was deep in conversation with another captive. They seemed to know each other, thick as thieves.

One of the people on the other side of the pen, a strapping human lad, tried to pick a fight with one of the Trandoshan guards and received a beating that seemed to render him unconscious. Phylus got to his feet, which incidentally did not make much of a difference as far as height went - his legs were exceedingly short - and shuffled rapidly in that direction. Before he arrived, a young female human bent over the unconscious lad to try and help him, when the man regained consciousness and seized her arm.

Phylus' hunched form shambled into the scene.

"It's ok," huffed the Chevin, somewhat winded, "We are here to help."

[member="Sam Paige"] | [member="Sunblade"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

Zai groaned and rolled over, or tried to at least. His body felt strangely dislocated and he realised he couldn't feel the ground. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the bright light of the nearby campfire. He was on a very strange planet. It was swampy and humid, but what struck him as the strangest feature was that gravity seemed to be backwards. He shifted slightly and his engineer ID badges (which were attached by a cord to his neck) fell past his face. Zai laughed to himself as he realised what was happening. He was hanging upside down.

His laughter died in his throat as lucidity returned, along with the memories of the last twenty four hours. He had been out of money so he had enlisted as an engineer on a merchant's vessel. The voyage was to be long, taking a roundabout route to their destination so they could avoid pirate space. Unfortunately, the captain failed to realise that you could still be attacked outside of pirate space and had hired no vessels for defence (a piece of information Zai had learned far too late). Thus, it was easy for a ship of Trandoshan slavers to board the ship and capture the crew.

The majority of the crew had given up without a fight, however the little on-board security had been slaughtered without mercy. The slavers found Zai amusing, probably because he was a small and swore colourfully at them. He had also made a run for escape on five separate occasions, learning later that they made bets to see how far he would get before they caught him again. The betting stopped after the fifth time, after Zai had almost escaped. They decided it would be better to hang him upside down so he wouldn't be able to run.

The hanging device consisted of a mid-sized log crudely driven into the ground with a hook imbedded at the top. Zai's feet were then tied the hook and his hands were bound together. Hoping he wouldn't attract attention, he began to swing in an effort to reach the hook. He had almost reached the top when the whole log up-rooted itself. With surprise, Zai fell with it and crashed to the ground. It was fortunate that they'd placed the log in swampy ground, where the ground was loose. His eyes darted around the camp, but the slavers too were busy celebrating to notice the thunderous sound he had made. Quickly working at the knots that tied his hands and feet, he freed himself. Now the only thing that stood between him and escape was the laser fence.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Phylus"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Darth Erebos"] [member="Sam Paige"] [member="Sunblade"] [member="Quietus"] [member="Kista Bralor "]