Felucian Pest Control

[Maxx]

The sun was rising over the mushroom jungle and light slipped into the clearing, drowning out the light of the bonfire. The light slipped into the hut that was occupied by the village's shaman. Lethe groaned and brought his hand to his face to rub his eyes. He swung his feet off the side of his cot and stood up, his feet bare against the cool of the ground beneath them. At the foot of his cot were his clothes, a pair of sandals, brown pants and a leather chest plate. He slipped them on before walking out into the morning air, grabbing his red half-robes that hung next to the doorway.

Outside, the bonfire still blazed. Just as it had the night before, eight months ago when he had first come here, and even before that. He set a pot filled with his breakfast over a portion of the fire to warm up. As he waited, he looked in the direction of the Chieftain's hut and was surprised to find that the Chieftain was only a few meters away, and walking his way. He stood up to greet the Tendril. "Good morning Chieftain." The Tendril nodded, "And the same goes to you, Lethe."

At this point the pot was warm, so Lethe turned to it and removed it from the fire. "I have breakfast warmed up if you'd like some." The other merely shook his head. "Thank you, but I have already eaten. I came to speak to you of a matter." Lethe removed the lid of the pot and began to scoop some out into a bowl for himself. "What's the matter?" "A mantis crab has made its way closer to the village than is...warranted. Later today I'd like you to go out and deal with it, a few of the warriors will be sent with you." A mantis crab, he had seen several dead, but never one alive. Their meat was edible but mainly used in a few sickness recipes. Red had told him about the mantis and its weakness.

He nodded. "I'll take care of it." The Chieftain merely nodded and turned to walk back to his hut. Lethe dipped his finger into the breakfast bowl and pulled out a green goop. He stuck it into his mouth and ate. Can't fight a mantis crab on an empty stomach.

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk yelled more than a few curses in Dosh as the thick, Felucian atmosphere surrounding its mushroom jungles began to flare up on the outsides of the damaged escape pod.

"Dammit dammit dammit dammit...um...need lift, need lift, need lift..." he muttered to himself, trying to remain calm as the pod, now more of a shooting star than a transportation vessel, careened down towards the thick fungal canopy of the jungle. He had been frantically yanking on the stick before him, flipping every switch he could find, losing his landing gear and some weird antennae in the process to the fiery inferno surrounding his pod, and was on his last legs. He had to do something to reduce his speed...his Force abilities weren't strong enough to even come close to slowing this bird down, and he seemed to have exhausted every possibility. His retrograde thrusters had failed, the old-fashioned parachute mechanism refused to deploy...he was out of options.

"C'mon, c'mon..." Hrassk continued to mutter, louder now as he came face to face with impending disaster: he'd be hitting the mushroom canopy at Scorekeeper-knows how many kilometers per hour in what looked like less than a minute. Realizing at this point it was useless to save the craft, Hrassk set about saving himself. Drawing on his fear and desperation, the negativity started to clear his mind rather than cloud it, as he focused on forming multiple Force barriers around himself, his protective cocoon growing more layers slowly as the crucial seconds before impact passed like minutes. He was in the middle of forming his fifth or sixth layer, his inefficient usage of his Force reserves putting a heavy drain on him, before a singular jolt rocked the craft, sending it into a dizzying spin.

"Oh hell no!" Hrassk yelped out as the craft then dipped below the mushroom canopy before slamming into the ground with a much more massive jolt, tearing the pod apart from the outside as it continued its deadly roll for what felt like hours, his layered protection just barely absorbing the intense shock as he tumbled about in the cabin, curled into the fetal position.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself not to think of what would happen if his will broke and his defenses failed.

But mercifully, the rolling came to a stop, the shaken Trandoshan shuddering as he opened his eyes. The craft had literally broken apart around him, some shrapnel embedded into the outer layers of his cocoon, which he let fade away as he took a few long, deep breaths, trying to get to his feet but failing as his weakened legs and arms kept giving way. Even in his state, he knew somewhat of where he was...he knew he couldn't stay still. But his body was still recovering from just the shock, and a few aches scattered throughout his body starting to surface as his adrenaline rush faded told him he was bruised, hopefully not broken. He rolled over onto his back, laying on the moist ground, still breathing heavily and shivering wildly.

"You really have a penchant for having the most spectacular crashes son."

"....Just...shut...up..."

 

[Maxx]

Lethe met with the other's of the mantis group at the edge of the northern side of the clearing, the direction that the mantis crab had been spotted. The group was made up of him, two warriors, and two scouts. They were just about head into the jungle when a bright light out of the corner of his eye caught Lethe's attention. Turning his head, he saw a red streak fly across the sky, disappearing over the mushroom canopy. A moment later, a small boom could be heard. It was nothing that he had ever seen before, and from the stances of the Tendrils, he couldn't read their faces because of the masks, he guessed they hadn't either. He looked back and forth between the scouts and the direction the streak had went, before making up his mind.

He turned to one the scouts and spoke in their tongue, "You, I want you to go check that out." He turned to the other three of the group. "The rest of us will begin our search for the mantis crab." With that, the lone scout ran off in the direction of the streak, slightly west of where they would search, and the main group walked on the trail into the deep jungle. Birds overhead taking off, as the screech of the mantis crab sounded off.

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk, regaining his strength slowly, managed to pull himself up in a sitting position, leaning back against the stalk of a conveniently placed mushroom...tree...thing...whatever it was. He took stock of the situation...sighing as he saw the wreckage of his pod, bits and pieces of the shattered vessel strewn about everywhere. There'd be no way he'd be repairing that any time soon. He next instinctively checked his armored vest and its pockets: his claws grasped eagerly around his dual slugthrower revolvers and the boxes of ammo he'd taken with them. Thank the Scorekeeper he at least had them. Next he checked his belt, once again relieved to find one of his lightsabers was still intact. He activated it, relaxing a bit more as he saw the orange blade shine, reflecting off the bronzium hilt with a brilliant glow. The other unfortunately seemed to have a bit of rewiring work to do as it wouldn't activate for him, but one saber was all he'd need. His survival instincts, a cutting tool, and ranged weaponry...that's all he'd need. Well, that and a bearing on which way civilization was. Heavily disoriented from the crash, he didn't even know what planet he was on. He only knew that mushrooms definitely shouldn't be growing this damn big...

The next thing he noticed, however, was that the whole place seemed to be choked with the force. Not necessarily light or dark...just, alive. There was a certain purity to it...it was definitely uncomfortable to Hrassk's senses, but a welcome change from the Light and Dark he was used to. But as he reached out his senses, looking through the life surrounding him in his immediate vicinity, he felt a masked presence of sorts. One that was slightly different than the rest of the animals and plants that seemed to be filled with the force's very essence. And it was making a beeline towards him.

As he felt this presence, Havoc spoke up again, looking out at the fungal jungle from within him. "I remember this place...Felucia...I visited here once in search of game once the Wookies ceased to provide me pleasure.... The game...the Felucians...they own these jungles...they don't take kindly to outsiders, especially of...our variety...I'd get up..."

The warning put him on edge as he used the fungus behind him as a support, still leaning on it as he got in a standing position. With a lightsaber in one hand and his revolver in the other, he watched the direction of the presence, hoping there weren't more of whatever this presence was following behind.

 

[Maxx]

The Felucian quickly made his way through the jungle. He had no need for trails or landmarks, the very jungle spoke to him. It told him where to turn, leap, duck, he was one with the jungle and the jungle was one with him. The very planet was soaked with the Force. Every planet was connected to the Force, but none were as pure as Felucia, and that made the balance fragile. The balance had to be maintained and that is why darksiders were not welcomed. A thousand years ago the planet itself had become corrupted, twisted. It took many generations, but eventually the planet had healed. The Felucian squatted down when it got close to the crash site, hiding in the overgrown foliage. Through the foliage it saw a twisted scrap of metal, still burning. And sitting up against a mushroom was a reptilian. The reptilian looked in the Felucian's direction and slowly stood up, strange objects in each hand.

The Felucian and been tasked with watching. And so...

...it watched.

---

Lethe and the two warriors were still on the trail that led from the village clearing. The scout walked ahead, looking for any signs of the mantis crab. A load crunch was heard to the right of the trail and they all slowed down, keeping their breath quiet as they walked towards the source of the sound. Over a small hill was the mantis crab, feasting on a fresh corpse. They didn't attack, the creature would be alert, ready for an attack. So they waited and...

...they watched.

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk's heart and breath skipped a few beats when he first felt, then saw the Felucian had closed the distance. Though the jungle was rife with humidity and heat, his infrared senses let him just barely make out the outline of the scout which had hidden itself so well. Without the blessings of the Force, he might not have even noticed him at all, due to its quietude and expert skill with camouflage. He would have lifted his revolver at it if he still weren't so weak; as it was, he could only make a halfhearted attempt to lift his arm before it dropped at his side again.

Havoc, meanwhile, was busy observing the Felucian with a keen eye: the eye of a hunter. Though he had changed somewhat from his more barbaric ways in life, even in death he saw quite a few species as beneath him. The Felucians, one of his favorite "game-beasts," were one of them. He sighed as he watched his son just stand there, locked in a pointless staring contest.

"Listen to me...it's just an animal...kill it. You're lucky it's alone. You should be able to kill it, maybe take some meat for the road, then flee once you do. Then all we have to do is find a river and follow it back to civilization and get out of this hellhole...but you sure as hell can't with that thing watching you..."

Hrassk took a few deep breaths, his blue eyes still focused on the scout as he continued his mental discourse with his father, barely making a sound. "I'm too weak to kill it...anyway, I can sense its sentience...it could be reasoned with...I don't know this damn jungle nearly as well as it does..it could help me out of here for alli know."

Havoc merely laughed. "Would you reason with a deer before you shot it? I certainly don't, it's a waste of time mate...believe me, talking to these tentacle bastards is like talking to a brick wall. They're blaster bolt fodder and nothing more, not even worthy to taste the blade of a lightsaber!"

"It isn't a deer..." Hrassk retorted quietly. "It's thinking...it's reasoning...I can feel it...I know it to be true. Just let me talk to it first for frack's sake..."

Havoc's image in Hrassk's mind pouted immaturely: "Suit yourself kid...but when that thing starts calling in more things to throw you in a sarlacc pit just for looking at em the wrong way, you're gonna wish you listened to me and just shot it. Damn those Jedi...I knew they'd screw up your mind like this..."

Rolling his eyes, Hrassk took a small step away from the Felucian's hiding spot, taking a submissive posture as he began to speak in Basic, hoping it would understand him.

"Look...i'm not in the mood to fight, ok, seriously, i'm not mate...my escape pod failed and I got stuck here, I don't want to be here any more than you do. Or maybe you do wanna be here, I dunno, haha..." he stopped, an awkward silence pervading the space between them before he found the courage to speak up again. "I don't wanna hurt anyone...I just need help...that's all I need, is some help..."

 

[Maxx]

The Felucian watched from its place among the tall grass. The reptilian watched back, its face contorting in different expressions, as if it were having an internal argument with itself. Eventually, the reptilian took a step back from where he hid and spoke. He couldn't understand a word that the reptilian said, but he quickly realized that it was a language it had heard before. It was the language of the shaman, the outsider, the one that he had found drinking water from the river just outside the village clearing.

There was a connection between the shaman and this reptilian. They both spoke the same language and they both were not part of the jungle. In response to what the reptilian had said, he said the only word he knew of the other's language. "Lethe." The name of the shaman. He had no idea if the reptilian would know what it meant, but it was all that it could do. The Felucian looked over its shoulder, in the direction that Lethe and the other Felucians would be. It took of towards the others, not at the sprint that it had taken to get to the reptilian, but a slower pace that it thought the reptilian would be able to keep up with if it decided to follow.

---

Back at the hill overlooking the mantis crab's feast, the group began to slowly stand up, prepared to attack. A movement by the mantis crab however gave them pause. It lifted its head to the sky and looked around, looking for something. When it seemed that it couldn't find what it was looking for, it let off a screech and ran towards the trail, in the direction the streak had gone. Lethe and the three other Felcuians followed behind at a distance. Now what, thought Lethe.

 

[Kaane]

Another length of awkward silence. Hrassk sighed as he took another step back, prepared to try and make an imitation at a run if necessary. Even Havoc held his tongue in this time of intense apprehension. Thankfully, it was broken, but only for a moment, as the Felucian spoke one word: "Lethe." Hrassk's sigh of relief was then followed by slight confusion as it turned to face a direction, then left him.

Inwardly, he turned to his father. "Lethe?"

"Pfft, you expect me to know their barbarian language?"

"Well aren't you a lotta help..." he muttered in response as he looked at where the Felucian was once squatting. He could only assume given the circumstances that Lethe meant something along the lines of "follow." Of course, he could be being misled into a trap, but Hrassk didn't have the energy or the option to worry about that. He needed some form of safety from the foreign world he was surrounded by, and this Felucian was the only glimmer of safety he had.

He grunted as he pushed himself off of the fungus behind him, taking a few weak steps in the Felucian's direction before falling on his knees again. But he couldn't let this hope of survival get away...with another grunt, he pushed himself off the ground and started walking. Though he was already quite far behind him, his Force senses were acute enough to always give him a grasp of where the Felucian was heading. Using his lightsaber when necessary to cut through any thick brush in his way, he trudged onward, ignoring the aches in his legs, knowing that reaching wherever this Felucian was leading him was a matter of life and death at this point. Of course, considering what was heading his way, he had no idea that death might be meeting him sooner than he originally thought.

 

[Maxx]

Giant mushrooms were knocked down as the mantis crab crashed through the jungle. Lethe and the three Felucians had to sprint to keep up with it, drawing on the power that seeped up from the very earth itself. Lethe had no idea as to what had caused the mantis crab to suddenly take off, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with the streak in the sky earlier. It slowly dawned on him that something big must be going on. First the bonfire almost going out last night, then the mantis crab, the streak, and now somehow the streak was affecting the mantis crab.

---

The Felucian that had watched the reptilian suddenly came to a stop and then jumped out of the way, just as the jungle in front of him exploded in a shower of vegetation and dirt. Above him stood the mantis crab, staring down at him. It raised its foreleg and brought it down on top of him. The Felucian brought his arm up above his chest and called upon power of the jungle. A shield of blue energy appeared across his chest, blocking the mantis crab's attack. It then proceeded to try once more, the shield of energy flickering out of existence as its foreleg rose. Before it could attack, a blur of motion knocked the foreleg aside. Next to the Felucian landed the shaman, and now attacking the mantis crab were the other three Felucians.

Lethe reached down and pulled up the downed Tendril. He saw immediately that he had a limp, so he pulled him over to a mushroom and sat him down. "Don't move." With that he turned back to face the fight and ran to fight the mantis crab. Skullblade in hand, he slashed at the creature's foreleg, doing nothing against the its thick exoskeleton. He needed to be at a distance so he could alter the jungle, but the other Felucians wouldn't last long enough. So he stayed, hoping that something would come along and change the fight in their favor.

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk, panting heavily as the atmosphere laid oppressively on his tongue's acute senses. The brush continued to fall before his saber, a thin trail of burnt fungi and flora forming behind him. He kept following the Felucian, grasping frantically with the Force whenever he thought he lost it to the thick fog of raw life surrounding him, but always managing to keep him within that limited sensory range, as though he were groping for a dim light at the end of a dark tunnel.

But as his footfalls grew heavier and heavier, each swing of once weightless saber placing more and more strain on him, he began to wonder why he even kept going in general. For the past year or so, all he'd known was suffering...his training with the Jedi was strenuous of course, but he had friends and masters to back him up, constantly giving him reason to keep moving. He was a guardian of the Light, and a student of the Force. But now, as a pawn of the Bogan and a castaway on a remote planet, he was bereft of both those titles. Even with them...what was his purpose? For as long as he'd lost the Jedi, he had forgotten. He had hated the Sith, but learning that he had come from them had ingrained the seed of uncertainty further into his psyche. He stopped in his tracks for a moment to take a rest, letting his mind wander to those questions he had pushed to the back of his brain for so long.

Was it worth it to keep going?

But suddenly, he was jolted out of his thoughts by a loud screech. He held his lightsaber aloft and drew his slugthrower, expecting the worst as he reached out his senses: whatever this thing was, it was massive, and it was bearing down on his only hope of escape and survival. Hrassk snarled to himself as his comfortable walking gait slowly sped up into a stumbling run; he had to make damn sure that this Felucian lived.

"Oi mate, I'm coming, I didn't give you fricking permission to die yet!" yelled Hrassk, trying to get some sort of response as he continued to practically fall through the undergrowth as fast as his weakened legs could carry him. He also began to feel other presences that were smothered by the large creature's metaphysical bulk in the Force: they felt like a few more felucians and...hm...an odd presence. One that belonged, but at the same time didn't belong...but he didn't ponder it further, as with one more large sweep of his lightsaber, he had gained visibility to the clearing where the creature was.

His eyes widened, silently mouthing a rather nasty expletive as he just stood stock still like a wild animal in headlights for a moment before ducking behind cover again.

"The kriff is that thing..." he whispered, half-talking to himself, half-desperately asking Havoc for help.

Havoc was somewhat afraid too, knowing that he was connected to his son's life, and a barely noticeable tremor in his voice revealed it as he spoke: "Something we should be running from...very fast...screw your little Felucian pets, we don't have the time or energy to waste saving em now."

But it was then he remembered a reason why he did exist...why he had gravitated to the ideals of the Jedi even after he had sworn their downfall, learning how his Master had used him so heinously long ago.

"I can't...I can't let these people die though...they're my only route to survival...plus, didn't you see em, they're fighting with clubs and rocks! In a few minutes, their blood'll be on my hands; I have too much on them already.."

"Argh, you and your damn guilt complex...even if they were worth helping, think rationally for a sec...you can barely stand let alone fight! What the hell do you think you're gonna do against that thing!"

Hrassk sighed as he gathered up his courage, forging his resolve with one word: "Something."

He leapt up, pushing his father's insults to the side as he raised his revolver, taking a few shots at the crab's hardened exterior as he forced a cocky smile on his face.

"Over 'ere jetar madle!" His smile grew wider as he lifted his lightsaber into a simple two-handed guard, waiting for the crab to make a move while stumbled a bit, getting his footing. "I'll fricking wreck that ugly face of yers, one on one!"

 

[Maxx]

He saw the flash of slugs as they hit the mantis crab's exterior, bouncing off and embedding them selves in the soft matter of a mushroom. A blaster would be better than a slugthrower. The thought gave him pause. What's a blaster? Heck, what's a slugthrower. By the time he noticed the leg sweeping at him it was too late. He was thrown backwards into the top of a layered mushroom, before falling down to the ground below.

Wincing in pain, he slowly picked himself up off the ground. Looking around he saw that the other three had been knocked aside, but were still moving. A good sign. The mantis crab over was shrieking at something at the edge of the clearing. Turning his head in that direction, he saw a figure with what appeared to be a sword of orange light in his hands, shouting at the beast.

What shocked him about it the most however, was that the figure was shouting words he understood, and they weren't the language of the Tendrils. The figure was speaking the same language he himself had spoken eight months ago when he first found himself in the jungle.

The mantis crab reared its head back before whipping it back towards the figure. An arc of lightning shot from the crab's mouth scarring the earth next to the figure. He could feel the crab calling upon the power of the jungle, using the energy that seeped from the planet, just as the Tendrils and himself did. He realized that this would be the perfect time to alter the jungle. He closed his eyes and focused on the jungle around him, searching for his target. Roots began to emerge from the ground, growing, twisting, and making their way into the clearing. A screech filled his ears and the mantis crab lunged at the mysterious figure.

 

[Kaane]

At some point in your life, you'll probably decide to do something stupid. Usually it's at a place like an amusement park, when you look at a rollercoaster and you're like "eh, it's not that bad." You decide to get in line, wait, take a few pictures, all while feeling on top of the world. Once you're strapped in and starting to go up the first steep incline, however...you suddenly start regretting you ever had the courage to even get past the turnstile.

This is probably the most accurate approximation of what Hrassk felt as he realized what the kriff he was doing.

Staring at the beast with an amazed look on his face as he watched the Felucians get knocked about from being struck by its legs, he yelped as the thing screeched at him and spewed lightning from its mouth. His thoughts flashed back to the times he had fought Sith before...with just a split second remaining, his body thought for his conscious mind as he raised his lightsaber with both hands, taking the brunt of any sparks that might jump his way while stumbling backwards from the scorched earth before him, forced to a knee just as the creature entered a lunge.

"This is why I don't eat seafood..." Hrassk thought as he snarled and barely got his feet under him. His second wind of adrenaline started to fuel him once more, energizing his worn-out body, and even an exasperated Havoc started to feed him some of his essence. Though he was still fraught with soreness, he knew he'd be able to pull through.

With the crab closing in fast, he let the Force fill his legs, giving him a small boost as he leapt to the side of the crab's charge, striking at one of its towering legs with his orange saber, seeming ablaze as it whirred through the jungle air to hopefully meet its target.

 

[Maxx]

The claw of the mantis crab's front right leg came crashing to the jungle floor, separated at the joint. The crab let out a screech, and tried to compensate for the lack of its leg by walking with only its back four legs. It stumbled backwards as it tried to regain its balance. As it stepped back, its foot landed right next to a root. The root began to curl its way up the leg, followed by another root.

The crab turned its head and blasted lightning at the roots, freeing itself, but more roots began climb their way up not only the previous leg, but its other's as well. It began to move around the clearing, cutting and blasting away roots as they reached for it. Over time it began to lose the fight as even more roots came into the clearing, but they were beginning to slow down.

Lethe's knees were slightly beginning to buckle, the amount of energy he was spending was taking its toll, the fight needed to be ended soon.

 

[Kaane]

After Hrassk stuck the landing and noticed he'd actually wounded the beast, he soon found himself shaking again. But this time it wasn't him; it was the ground itself.

Alarmed, he grounded his stance, sensing something that felt to him quite massive coming his way. It was as though a raw surge of the planet itself had decided to burst forth from the jungle floor. And his unfamiliarity with such a pure form of the Force made the experience all the more intense to him. Catching his wobbly balance, he watched in awe as roots began to spring from the ground, wrapping themselves around the crab's legs as it desperately tried to free itself, arcs of bio-lightning firing left and right...it was quite a sight to behold.

But as he took a moment to study the clearing as the crab was taken off his hands for a moment, he realized that the roots weren't the planet itself fighting against this thing (though he did kinda wish that he had an entire planet to look after him), but that they were being controlled: he sensed the source of his mysteriously raw energy, looking to see a strange figure: strange compared to the rest of the Felucians standing about, at least. It was smaller in stature, had a remarkably different skin tone, and seemed to lack any presence of the fleshy tentacles that made up a Felucian's visage under his mask. In fact he looked almost-

"The kriff is a human doing here acting like that..." Havoc pondered aloud in Hrassk's mind, having reached the same conclusion.

But Hrassk didn't have too much time to think about it as he felt the Force that had seemed quite strong before begin to falter. There was no time to waste.

Half-stumbling, half-sprinting towards the crab again, Hrassk systematically circled the beast, staying out of the way of its line of fire as much aspossible, while claiming its remaining limbs efficiently, if not gracefully. Then, with one final, resounding snarl, he leapt up on the beast's back, and stabbed his lightsaber through its shell and into its armored head.

 

[Maxx]

The crab left out one final screech, before collapsing to the jungle floor. The roots that once thrived with energy now lay limp on the ground, no longer energized by the energy that came from the world. Lethe's legs came out from under him and he fell to the ground, his hands shooting out to catch himself. He remained on his knees and hands as he tried to catch his breath. That was the most advanced thing he had done when it came to affecting plant life, and it had drained him.

After a minute he leaned back to sit on his legs, and looked around. The Tendrils in the clearing began to rise, waking from unconscious. They all noticed the dead mantis crab, before looking at Lethe, followed by the mysterious figure. One of them ran to Lethe's side and picked him to his feet, while the others grabbed their Skullblades and stood between the figure and Lethe.

With the help of the one that had helped him up, he walked past the other three and stood a few feet away from the figure. "I must thank you for your help with the mantis crab, without your help we may not have lived," he pointed at himself, "My name is Lethe, or at least that is what the natives call me. May I ask who you are?"

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk himself was quite drained; whatever reserve energy he had left from after the crash had completely left him at this point, and he had sort of sunk into a leaning-sitting position against the crab's carcass. He watched with a somewhat vacant expression as the Felucians woke from unconsciousness, surrounding the odd human-looking...whatever it was. At this point, he was too tired to care too much about details. Except when it started speaking in Basic...Basic...hallelujah, someone on this chaos-borne planet at least knew how to speak Basic.

The Trandoshan perked up a bit, grunting as he pulled himself up straight to get a closer look. He was definitely a human...maybe some sort of missionary or what not, or a scientist blending in with the native culture. But then again, most missionaries and scientists didn't know how to pull entire root systems out from underground by merely concentrating hard enough. This...Lethe...he certainly was a puzzle. But one that Hrassk was at the moment a bit too tired to solve, especially when he was already faced with a puzzle of his own: how he should answer his question.

He looked at Lethe with as friendly of a smile as his tired, reptilian muzzle could muster before starting to formulate an answer, pushing it through his slowed brain and out of his mouth between breaths with all the grace of an ice-skating bantha: "I'm...uh...Hrassk...of the Dar-...I mean...Dathomirian Trade Group...uh...my ship...it was destroyed by pirates and...now I guess...i'm umm...here. Or something."

Havoc, meanwhile, had been frantically covering up his presence, and even the presence of his son to an extent; he knew precisely how these half-wits treated Dark Siders, and he certainly didn't want Hrassk to die in a place like this. And he, especially, wasn't ready to die a second death to these idiots.

 

[Maxx]

"Hrassk," He slowly pronounced the word, his brain telling him that the name was different even for the language it was spoken in. The man in front of him spoke of a Dathomirian Trade Group, ships, and pirates. However, pirates was the only word that his brain found an explanation for. People who preyed on others to steal their valuables. The other words were strangers to him. Ship? Was that the red streak that they had seen earlier? Who were the Dathomirian and what did they trade? The sudden pressure on his brain caused him to close his eyes and pinch the bridge right above his nose. Why can't I remember!

Lethe shook his head before looking back at the figure, returning to the conversation. "Sorry about that, headache." He let out a sigh. "I should probably tell you that I can't remember anything except my time here on this planet. Eight months ago I awoke in this jungle, no memory of who I am or of anything else. The natives took me in, taught me in their ways." The natives behind him were uneasy, shifting on their feet. They couldn't understand what was being said and the man was a mystery to them. "Now I am their shaman."

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk looked at this strange man curiously as he seemed to be going through some form of confusion or other...it seemed that very little was even making sense to him about himself. All for the better at least; having someone know his affiliations in the midst of this planet wouldn't good, as he'd told himself a million times over. For the moment, everything was looking somewhat hopeful. Surely, this human was probably a missionary or a Jedi or a scientist or something on a charity or research mission...which would mean he'd have to know his way out of this jungle if he got in so flawlessly. He was home free now that he knew about this Lethe dude.

At least, until he told him he couldn't even remember a single thing about the outside world or how he got here.

"Are you kriffing me!?" Hrassk spat out loud before covering his mouth sheepishly. "Eh...sorry bout that...umm..." he muttered before looking off into the distance for a moment to compose his thoughts.

"Even the sentient life on this planet's bloody useless...here, lemme have a talk with him, see if I can't jog his memory so we can find a way out of here," said an exasperated Havoc.

"No, dad...I mean...dammit, can't believe I called him that​...it's out of the question anyways, just keep your mouth shut, I don't need any of this right now!"

"Aw cmon, don't worry, I'm not gonna kill him...I'm just gonna pinch his smug lil shaman cheeks, pat his lil amnesiac head, maybe give him a hug...and if he can't remember anything after that...then I'll kriffing rip his spine out and beat his head to a ruddy pulp with it!"

"Shut it!"

"I can't live here mate, I mean your company's great and all, but not on this fungal hellhole! I WANT OUTTA HERE!"

Walling off his mind to any further incursions by Havoc for the moment, Hrassk groaned as he returned to the present. "You sure you don't remember anything though...like how you got here, if there's civilization nearby? I mean cmon, you have to know something...like a face, a ship...anything that brought you here? I mean I can't stay here as lovely as it is, I've got stuff that needs getting done."

As he spoke, he also considered another question that had him considerably curious about what was going on: "And, if you can't remember anything...could you at least tell me how you even become these people's shaman? I heard Felucians weren't exactly friendly to outsiders..." he said, looking now a bit nervously at the tentacle-faced sentients walking around and behind them, noticing quite easily their uneasiness. He definitely feared staying here any more than he had to, and like the overly opinionated Havoc, he definitely didn't want to spend the rest of his days stranded with people who'd want him dead if they knew his full story.

 

[Maxx]

Hrassk became silent, staring off into the distance. He followed the reptilian's gaze, but found nothing of interest in the direction. He turned back to look at Hrassk, still silent. The reptilian was here, standing in the jungle just as he and the natives were. Did that mean that he was apart of the jungle's power? Could he look into Hrassk's mind, as he could with a few of the natives. He slowed his breath and calmed his heart, staring at Hrassk. His vision faded and was replaced by the outline of the jungle, traced by its power. Where Hrassk stood however, there was emptiness. It was as if a veil were covering him, shielding him from the jungle. Lethe's vision returned to normal as Hrassk came out of whatever trance he had been in.

Lethe scratched his chin as he contemplated his new acquaintance's questions. He looked him up and down before his eyes fell on a weapon at Hrassk's side. "That weapon of yours," he pointed at it, "when you fired it," yes that seemed to be the right word, "something came to my mind. I thought, 'A blaster would be better than a slugthrower.' The thing is, I have no idea what either of those things are, but I'm guessing that weapon is a slugthrower." He brought his arms back down to his side. "So, it didn't make me remember anything important, but it made me remember something. Maybe if there were anything else you had, or knew, I might be able to remember other things. As for your question about how I am shaman, that is a story best for a trip back to the village." He moved his body so that he faced the way back to the trail, while still looking at Hrassk.

"You'll be lost out here in the jungle, your only chance of living is if you go where their is friendly life." He looked back and saw the uneasy, what was it Hrassk had called them? Felucians. The Felucians were nervous, was there something they could sense that he couldn't? Under his breath, just loud enough so Hrassk could hear it, he said, "and it looks like I'm the only friendly."

 

[Kaane]

Hrassk could practically feel their eyes boring into him, as though they were looking for something. He brushed his arms uncomfortably and twiddled his three-fingered hands, hoping that despite Havoc's anger he had managed to hide their presence in the Dark. He felt as though they already knew, and that they were just scrutinizing him, waiting for him to make a wrong move before pouncing and tearing him limb from limb. He wasn't worried about Lethe; so far, he seemed harmless. But his companions...

His paranoia was thankfully interrupted by the human speaking up about his weapon. The slugthrower, to be specific. Hrassk shrugged and gave a bit of a smile as he unholstered it, twirling it around the modified trigger with a practiced flourish. At the very least he remembered something. "Eh, you're right about that. The metal slugs this thing fires aren't so good against heavy armor like that damnable beast had, ehe. As for what a blaster is, it's like a slugthrower pretty much. Does the same job differently. Shoots a small, highly compressed combination of light and unstable particles. You should see 'em, they can burn holes right through solid metal depending on the weapon. Usually, they're the superior choice...but I've always liked the feel of a slugthrower more than a blaster...has a bit more kick, feels like you're holding a weapon instead of a kriffing toy, y'know." His smile grew a bit wider as he playfully flicked the cylindrical loading chamber, sending it into a short spin before holstering it again. It was fun talking to this guy, even if he w as on this planet with hostiles surrounding him. It'd certainly make his stay bearable.

He nodded as he continued to talk; Hrassk certainly knew a lot of things that might jog his memory. And he certainly didn't want to leave his side with his weakened state and the massive monsters that seemed to roam this place unchecked. He wouldn't have even survived today most likely if Lethe and his buddies hadn't came along just then; he'd probably mincemeat in that crab's stomach. Definitely not the most pleasant thought...

He turned to the human again and managed a chuckle. "You don't have to tell me twice," he said as he stretched. "After what I went through today, endangering my life isn't exactly my top priority. Though...if you can let these guys know i'm not a threat when we get back to wherever your house or village is or whatever, that'd be pretty bloody great...they're really starting to kriffing creep me out..."

His hand fingered his working lightsaber as he thought of the Felucians again...but at the same time, he thought of something else. A lightsaber was pretty iconic, and seeing as this guy was Force-Sensitive to a pretty heavy degree, maybe his memory'd get triggered by seeing one up close. He had the makings of a powerful Sith or Jedi, indubitably. And though he'd prefer to deal with a Jedi, even meeting a Sith wouldn't be so bad, as long as it meant a free ride off this madhouse. He pulled it up and ignited it with a long, guttural hiss, waving its glowing blade in a slow circle in front of him. Up close listening to it, it was definitely a hungry blade...the raw, blazing orange hummed with a uniquely rugged, ravenous song, as though it were desperate for sustenance at all times.


"Say...speaking of things I have, know anything about these?" He reached into his pocket and brought out his other lightsaber, the one had unfortunately broken during the fall, and handed it to him. The grip was strange as it was meant for a Trandoshan's hand, and the engraved scales in the hilt were equally ecletic, but hopefully it'd ring some bells regardless.