Impact! Missing on Caluula...

[Baobhan]

'Rule #1; Always know the contents of your package...'​

... Caluula, the Shining Jewel of the Tion System... Hastur didn't like venturing into Xim's empire as much as he liked venturing into Sith Space. Perhaps it was for this reason and this reason alone that he was given someone to help him on this potentially dangerous mission. The goal of the course was to take information to an agent that would be meeting them planetside, in the city of Aeleen... Hastur and his protector had been given a call-sign, but with the sith empire looming so closely to the planet, threatening to ensnare even more of the pirate base, there was little that the Jedi would be able to do. The information that 'supposedly' lay in the ever important chromatic case held by Hastur was meant to be the co-ordinates of alternate hyperspace routes in the system which the Jedi were certain that the Sith had yet to chart. With the infinite possible directions for a person to fly at post light-speed, even the slightest gradient difference would almost certainly lead to death... it would empower the pirates to be able to act with a level of impunity in sith space, creating a problem under their nose while should the Army of Light ever reclaim the area, these routes would be known, thus eliminating a problem before it occurred.

It seemed the Jedi could be sly when they wanted to be...​

... Hastur approved of the tactic, but he didn't like the idea of dealing with a pirate guild with so little behind him. Allowing a pilot droid to take the helm of his modified Oceanspray freighter, he would turn back and look to the Jedi who was accompanying him on this somewhat reckless endeavor. The girl seemed to be a slightly chilling example of a Jedi. While she was an initiate much like himself, she seemed to be a prime example of everything a Jedi was supposed to be, competent, confident, strong, full of Bravado and Energy with a personality to match. Her power in the force was nothing to scoff at either from what he had heard about her from the records he could find. She truly seemed to be a jewel of sorts herself. He was certain she would amount to great things in the Jedi order... If only he could say the same for himself...

... Entering the sanctuary room behind the cockpit the young Initiate would feel the emotional spectrum open up before him like a smorgasbord, thinking that the visage of a meek and slightly on edge Initiate would play well with her booming confidence, it would be a persona that would allow him to build up should he need to, rather than shave personality traits away. So, smiling somewhat awkwardly he would evade her gaze as he made his way down to his seat, bringing up the files of the mission that they had been sent on the holotable between the two of them. The planet that they intended to enter moving closer and closer on the horizon as the ship gracefully exited hyperspace. The sun of the system radiating through the open screens from the cockpit, casting a welcoming natural light into the bay.

"Okay, so it seems that our contact should be meeting us at Aeleen if everything goes according to plan, Uhm... I- what i mean is... is there anything that the two of us should prepare for on the planets surface? The world seems to be oxygen rich, the core species of the planet seem to be humans, some modicum of a diplomatic government, though the planet is mostly rules by what's left of the Xim Empire... Thoughts?"​

... The boys green eyes would, for likely the first time without evading her stare look up at her, looking for some form of leadership. He was the messenger here, a Jedi in title alone knowing that he had stagnated in his training, and so equally in his use to the Army of Light... Little could he know that upon the horizon a dark shadow crossed the sun before them... so close to the Empire of the Sith was Caluula, that the early preparations of their presence had begun to unfold, regular scout patrols and minor attacks being the first of the many fates that would befall those out of range of the planets protection. It would not have taken long for the Sith Empire to track the transports plates to Taris, and know that in its recent travels, though frequent, Caluula would not have been one of them... The ship was a fringe outsider, not known or protected by the system as a whole, which made it a relatively risk free target.

The dark side of the force was looming over the two of them like the shadow of death...

and clouded, it was...​

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

Sigal stoically watched the galactic stage unfold before her through the force; the looming Sith cruiser ominously drifting within view, coupled with the skittering comings and goings of commerce star ships. They were nearing their destination soon; the blonde haired Hapan wanted to ensure they knew what was coming. But ever since they had entered the out rim territories, a dark cloud had obscured Sigal’s usual crystalline sight with the force. There was danger, but it was hidden. Ironically, much like themselves. Though they were concealed from their enemies, they were not completely safe. Sigal knew this, and she was sure her curious companion knew it as well. The Sith were not fools; within their cutthroat ranks blossomed cunning individuals; methodical hunters waiting for a moment of falter. If their planned failed, on even the most minuet level, their enemies would be upon them like starving kath hounds.​

Her violet eyes strayed once again to her younger counterpart. This was the first time he had the pleasure of her company, as silent and distant as it was. Though he avoided her gaze -which she inwardly revelled- she openly scrutinized him. The boy seemed very unassuming, she must say. The Hapan noble had yet to speak to her indented mission mate...Not that she had any desire to. Idol chitchat was intolerable, even in the best of times. But, much to Hastur’s credit, he did not seem to grab for attention; quite the contrary, he seemed to shun it. Very curious. But for now, she pointedly ignored him, focusing her mind at the task at hand. Though she had been on countless missions with the Jedi Army already, Sigal had never ventured into the Tion System before. She simply had no reason to visit any of the outer rim systems, especially those so encompassed by the conquering the sith and their empire.

Xim’s Empire and Sith controlled territory. Both seem equally unappealing. If their real identities and allegiance were discovered, they would have no hope of escape.

Sigal turned away from the view in the cockpit and settled near the holotable, once more running various scenarios through the eye of her mind. She attempted to rationalise every possible variant that could throw a troublesome spanner into their works. She seemed to keep her trial of thought running, even when Hasthur finally seemed brave enough to openly approach her.

But she paid him little notion. Instead, her eyes glanced over the files; she had almost committed them to identic memory with given her perfectionist tendencies, though this seemed to be more out of learnt habit than actual necessity. Perhaps it was because of this that then went on to she regard the green eyed boy with a look that could only be akin to boredom. It was as if she felt there was little need to discuss the statements and concerns he had raised.

Nevertheless, she seemed to humour him, assuming of an air of careless demeanour. She seemed listless and distant whilst she revealed the allusion of thoughts cavorting in her mind. "During the height of Xim's Empire, thousands of occupying worlds enjoyed extreme wealth. Understandable, as their economy is geared for war. But underneath Xim’s imposturous grandeur, it's just like any cesspool planet; nothing more than a haven for pirates, smugglers, and criminals. Here, money is the only true equivalent to power. If worse comes to worse, we have an emergency stockpile of credits to buy our way out of any unpleasant situations"

Calculation slowly shone through her expression, as well as a hint of mirth. "My best advice? Avoid drawing attention to yourself. You seem good at that." It was probably the closest thing Sigal could issue in the way of compliments.

As if to stress her point, the Hapan girl adjusted the conservative veil of her hooded robes, though one could see from the narrowing of her eyes that she found the coverings much to her distaste. Unfortunately, in a city of slavers and pirates, beautiful objects attracted attention, especially if they young, easily targeted females. For this mission and for their own safety, Sigal had to blend in with Hastur, even if it meant temporarily masking the beauty which her people so diligently held sacred.

Once they handed over the information, they could flee the hostile star system and part ways. "We are in the eye of the storm; surrounded by our enemies. But for now, we are unnoticed. Let’s keep it that way. How long before we are cleared for landing?” Sigal cast the piloting droid a fleeting glance, as if expecting an immediate answer. For now, they could only wait and prepare themselves for the adversity they were unwittingly about to face.

​

​

@Baobhan​

 

[Baobhan]

'The Shadow of the Dark Side Corrupted the Sun...'


​

... Hastur could not believe the fact that he was being ignored by a fellow Jedi. While he knew that while the army of light was expansive, the boy had assumed that they would all at least follow the same code and that, that fact alone would give them a sort of kinship. But it seemed that this wasn't the case in the slightest. Yet, his reaction would be a simple one, moving to distract himself while consciously making an effort to attract attention by evading her gaze until she decided to talk in her own time and on her own merit. Though the physical words which left her mouth seemed distant and attentive, the boy before her would hang off of them as if he were enchanted, his head turning slightly sideways as he listened attentively. Though, of everything that she spoke, it felt she misjudged the kind of people who were here... that their world revolved around money. Hastur couldn't quite agree with that notion entirely, there was one currency above all when it came to the organized criminal underworld.

I don't feel that''s right... money isn't the 'only' equivalent to power to pirates and criminals...' the boy spoke aloud, sitting back as his fingers would stroke at his chin as his gaze rose, deep in a sort of thought. I've always found that information is a currency which speaks to any man with ambition... and pirates are the most ambitious people I can think of... other than politicians.​

... With her ending comment directed at the boy, a confused look would wash over the boys face as he was thrust into self doubt... attempting to discern whether or not her quip was a compliment at his ability to blend into a crowd, a feat which would be a tactical asset to any Jedi. Or whether it was a cynical attack at his meek and meager appearance. Whatever was the case, Hastur would not confront her on the issue, rather allowing the confused look to fade as his attention would be bought to the cockpit if the ship. A question angled towards the pilot droid prompted Hastur to move towards the area. One of his delicate hands gripping to the side of the doorway for support he too would listen to the droids response.

'Madam Jedi, at this point in time we are approximately thirty six minutes and forty nine seconds from landing, should weather conditions of the planet remain optimal. '
​

... Hastur smiled at the result... it seemed like they hadn't far to go... but landing was going to be a lot sooner than they expected. No sooner than the muscles relaxing on Hastur and the droid having finished his open discernment of their position, ear puncturing alerts began to sound throughout the ship. Hastur gripped at both of his ears, cringing at the sudden loudness and surprise of the alert as he moved to question his droid at exactly what the hell was going on, raising his voice into an agonized and confused shout in an attempt to overpower the warnings.

'Master Jedi, it appears a cruiser class ship has approached and locked onto us with thermal tracking signals... They're preparing to open fire...'
​

... A cold sweat began to bead rapidly as Hastur took a look at the positioning radar, the ship was at least a couple hundred meters long, and while it was large, it was still cloaked by the sun above them, making him unable to discern what weapons or even what faction the light assault cruiser seemed to be a part of. Though if he had to make an educated guess, it would have to have been the sith, pirate factions would have been lucky to get their hands on corvettes or large freighters yet alone what appeared to be a military grade cruiser... This was bad...

... Leaping into a pilots seat, Hastur would reign control from the pilot droid, hammering the accelerator as he would move to burst full speed towards the planets surface with everything the ship had. Fear and panic were overwhelming him as they would begin to flee... yet it was not his life that he feared for that made him react so hastily, it was for the message that he knew he had to deliver. Hastur was a determined soldier of the Army of Light, even if he wasn't the strongest of their ranks. The wide eyes of the frantic pilot would be looking between the radar and the planet, to and fro, over and over and over and over as if expecting something to happen. Whispering under his breath 'fasterfasterFasterFasterFASTER...' with a growing intensity until the sirens finally stopped.

and all hell finally broke loose.
​

Four small dots appeared on the radar, each of them representing a very real and tangible threat to the vessel they were on. Each of them, a concussion missile capable of obliterating the ship in a single blow... But should one move to see the path that they all seemed to track, there was one inevitable truth... They were faster than the Oceanspray freighter, a 'lot' faster.

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

No one had probably taken the prorgative to warn Hastur of Sigal's less than anti-social mannerism. Whilst she had the makings of a very competent Jedi, she placed limitations on her own progress in the forms of attitude and a less than desirable personality. However, she could easily conceal these character flaws when she wanted to. Her experience with politics and diplomacy had allowed her to form a misleading stoic expression, along with a charming smile false enough to fool even the most observant. Who would have thought such budding beauty hid such vindictiveness. As a Hapan, it was somewhat to be expected.

If the Hapan listened to Hastur's words, she gave no immediate acknowledgement of them; her veil hid any changes within her features. She seemed to spend a moment in silence, internalising the black haired boy's statement, as if analysing in and breaking it down into minuet detailing. Sigal finally gave a brief nod, coupled with a noise akin to something of a suppressed chuckle, "A valid point, I suppose." Again, she regarded her slightly younger counterpart with a thoughtful look. Despite his shy demeanour, he seemed to have a degree of knowledge about him. She silently dismissed her initial impression of him;

Not just a simple courier...

Idly shifting through the files on the holotable, Sigal spoke with more purpose, "In order for the exchange of information to take place, there are variables that must be overcome. Pirates are devious and deceitful. And most importantly, stupid. Many lack the intelligence and vision needed to take advantage of useful information, even when it is presented to them. We can play that to our advantage when we land on Caluula." From her biting tone, one could assume Sigal had a degree of distain for pirates -along with many other things-. It was ironic, considering the genesis of her people was founded on marauding pirates and their atrocities.

"However, the only information of any value at this moment is in your case. My job is to get you and that case to our contact in one piece. Worst possible scenario? Only the case arrives." Perhaps she meant it as a joke, the creasing of her eyes behind the veil alluded to an expression of amusement; behind the concealment of cloth, she may have even been smiling.

But the one-sided merriment was cut short but the blaring of the alarms. Sigal shot up from her seat like a nexu caught in a ankle trap, "What's happening?" She dashed to the cockpit, catching the droid's statement of impending fire. She came to stand behind Hastur's seat in the cockpit, her eyes frantically scanned the galactic space, searching for their attacker. She shaded her eyes when she turned her gaze towards the burning inferno of the nearby sun. At the sight of the cruiser class ship's silhouetted outline, Sigal immediately assumed the worst, "We have been compromised."

Already her mind played through the scenarios she had dreaded. "Can we still make to the planet's surface?" If this was a simple act of aggression, the cruiser could easily shoot them down without hesitation. However, she assumed their attackers were after their precious cargo; why else would they assault their unassuming freighter? More than likely, those in command of the cruiser wished to cause enough damage to immobilise the ship before coming aboard to intercept them. It would grievously limit their options and retaliatory capability. Without any way to identify their enemy, they were in the worst possible situation; if Sigal could at least discern their attackers, she could plan possible countermeasures.

"Open a communication frequency" she barked at the droid, leaving Hastur to pilot the ship, "Question their actions and intentions towards us." She didn't expect a response, but she had hoped to gain some insight. She did not let fear bleed into her voice, though her heart steadily thundered with growing anxiety. In the dead of space, they had little options. All she could do was hope Hastur's piloting could salvage the situation.

Another option slithered into her mind. She glanced over in another direction, looking for possible escape pods. Her assignment for the mission was to get Hastur and the information to the contact. That meant keeping him alive, by any means necessary.​

 

[Baobhan]

'Pirates are devious and deceitful. And most importantly, stupid.'​

... Oh the hubris that it meant to be a Jedi, the thought that Pirates were unintelligent and somehow lesser than a Jedi in any way, was a thought which had led to many a doomed jedi marooned in the middle of nowhere with a blaster round in their back. Underestimation was the weapon of a scoundral, and pride was the greatest weakness of those who attempted to uphold justice in the galaxy. Hastur had thought for a moment about revealing his thoughts on the matter, wondering if it would be a good idea to spark the debate, defending the kind which ruled the undercity of Taris which he had once not so long ago called his home. The mafioso, the so-called privateers and the scum that used to inhabit that blasted wasteland were some of the most intelligent people he had ever met, albeit not classically as the two of them seemed to be.

... Hastur didn't like the thought that he was expendable however, the last little stab on her behalf, be it a joke or otherwise seemingly caught the boy completely off guard. Double taking on the spoken word he gulped audibly as he awkwardly moved to the cockpit to ask the droid about the progress of everything as he continued to ponder. She wouldn't really sacrifice me for the mission would she? We're Jedi, we're supposed to be siblings in arms... I don't like this idea, I don't like this at all. Moving past his nervous thoughts he asked the droid about how long things were to come, then the alarms rang, the gates to hell opened wide as the company were left to stare into the gaping maw of the abyss... And the Assault Cruiser stared back at them from its golden throne.

Then the rockets came​

... 'What's happening!?' The woman would ask, the droid, as it was no longer focused on piloting would look to her and answer in response. 'It seems that we have come to the attention of someone who doesn't want us to be here Madam Jedi...' As she continued to speak, speaking the inevitable truth of their compromised position, the droid agreed to the seemingly rhetorical statement as Hastur was doing everything he could to get them closer and closer to the planet. Upon hearing her bark the order to open a channel to the attacking ship, the pilot droid responded in kind, creating an open channel and attempting to hark at the enemy ship.

'Calling to Cruiser, this is a civilian ship, please disengage your attack or respond. Repeat, this is a civilian craft, halt your attack.'​

... After a few moments of nothing, a quick systems check would discern without a doubt that the comms were down. The only way that this could possibly have been any worse were if they were trapped in the midst of a gravity well projector... Hastur looked to her as she asked if they were able to make it to the planets surface... the eyes that he would meet her with would give her the answer immediately, but he wasn't about to stop there. This was not the time to give up, with a little bit of a distraction, with a little bit of help, they may not be able to reach the surface of the planet, but there was a slight chance...

'We may not be able to get to the surface, but if you get on the turret and knock those missiles around a bit, maybe we can get in range to project the escape pods toward it and be out of range of their tractor beams? It's a long shot, but, If you can shoot down one or two of the missiles, the explosions should shake up the others enough to by us a little time as they correct their course...'​

... The mention of the task being a long shot was the understatement of the century, the cannons on this ship were light firing the turret of an At-At, slow, clumsy, it was far from an interceptor class ship. But if Sigal was half as scary in practice as she was in person, it should not be too hard for her... all she needed to do was hit one of them before they got too close then make her way to the escape pods. Explaining that idea quickly, should she agree, Hastur would order the Pilot droid to take over, mentioning a phrase that turned off its emotional replication so that it would accept the role to drive and be taken down with the ship when it inevitably exploded.

... Finally, snatching the case, he would make a break for the escape pods, readying them all to fire so that there would be some decoys to their escape... The fact of the matter was, the ship was not attempting to capture them, it was attempting to begin the early stages of isolating the world for invasion, but should they discover that survivors from their attack would get to ground... There was a certainty that they would send a force to hunt them down.

Such were the ways of the dark side.

 

[Pam0wl]

'We may not be able to get to the surface, but if you get on the turret and knock those missiles around a bit, maybe we can get in range to project the escape pods toward it and be out of range of their tractor beams? It's a long shot, but, If you can shoot down one or two of the missiles, the explosions should shake up the others enough to by us a little time as they correct their course...'​

...​

'Do it.'​

The Hapan’s eyes were hard and facetted like well-cut jewels. Within their crystalline clarity shone a degree of vehemence few would challenge in that moment. They brokered no alternatives or even the slightest tolerance of hesitation. It seemed if Hastur was willing to concoct such a dare-devil scheme, then assuredly it meant there had to be some validity to it. Or that was the impression she was conveying by agreeing to the courier's mad plan. The green eyed boy had given Sigal a plan and in the spur of the moment, she took it, willing to commit to its deviancy. They had little options offering any better outcome. Sigal had the pride bolstered drive to accomplish any mission assigned, by any means necessary, just as Hastur had the purchase to complete any delivery; formulaic and cliché as it was, failure was simply not an option.

No sooner had Hastur explained his fevered plan had Sigal rushed to take point position on the turret. The missiles were encroaching -at speed-, coming into plain sight. She would only be able to fire a short series of shots before impact was imminent. There was little lenience for ill targeted volley. Manoeuvring herself in control of the ship’s weapons, Sigal readied to intercept, calling to Hastur as she did sol, “Here they come!”

There would be no fluke of luck in the hapan’s shooting; Sigal openly channelled the force to make her shots decisive and predicative. Believing themselves to already been targets of nefarious foes, Sigal seemingly threw a percentage of caution to the proverbial wind. She took aim and fired, her heart seizing as she did.

The initial shot missed…​

And by a fair margin; the failure incurred frustration in the young jedi though she had no time to dwell on it. Focus and precision reigned whilst veiled fear and adrenaline fuelled dread warred for footing within her. The dimensions and vortexes of deep space were fickle and unrelenting to her ministrations in the force; she was not as skilled incurring her influence as others when in and amongst an interstellar surrounding. It took heavy concentration and a far extending reach to tempt the outcomes of this encounter.

The missiles loomed ever closer, gaining position on their ship. They would have mere seconds. Yet Sigal breathed, closing her eyes. She ventured out. Calling. Summoning. The force answered her, its enveloping affections seeming to slow down time itself, even if it was just in the pretences of her mind. In the blackness of space, she could perceive the threat. She feel the propollusion of the missile tearing its way through the cosmos like a jagged knife. It was agonizing, to simply be in that state of delay and watch. But she had to wait; just for the right moment.

Just… for…just…that right…second!​

She fired. The blast from the At-At’s gun skimmed the outer casing of the missile, exposing, and rupturing its contents, making its explosive mechanisms unstable. The explosion was imminent but still drawing closer than Sigal would have hoped.

'Contact made! Brace! Brace!' She jumped from the turret’s position, only catching a glimpse of the missile’s premature explosion. Their ship would not escape the shockwaves, but the convoluted scheme seemed to have succeeded on the favour of the force; the blast momentarily disoriented the other missiles, veering them slightly off course. Like a violent ripple, the detonation flared and widened out, perhaps shielding their presence from the observing cruiser for mere moments. Precious time Sigal was keen to take advantage of. 'Now, courier!'

Her tone was a cacophony of emotions; trepidation, perturbation but also something far worse - recognition. When she reached out to force in that moment of desperation...something reached back answering her.

Something dark.​

 

[Baobhan]

'Abandon ship.'​

... The spare escape pod would be launched into the void as Hastur would, in a mad panic, move from one to the other, ultimately reaching his destination quickly as he could hear the warning call from above him. The entire ship lit up like a magnesium flare as the concussion missile would detonate. The shockwave and the ensuing implosion due to the nature of the environment would knock off and mess with the tracking of the other missiles for a small amount of time. Hastur himself would be launched off his feet from the wave that would push the ship further towards its destination, his shoulder slamming hard into the wall of the escape pod as he would let out an involuntary cry of pain from the blow as his shoulder twisted slightly, warping under the pressure moments before flexing back into its natural position.

this was not a good day...​

... Moving to quickly input co-ordinates for a remote location outside of their destination, the boy would hope that they would get far enough away from their attackers to ensure their safety. It dawned on him that the case was a target, he had been intercepted with a case a couple times before where there had been no sign of something to come, but that was then, and this was now. Taking a luminescent golden vial from his pocket from his night-flower collection, he would place each of the ten vials into the case amongst the padding that currently held the datastick that they were transporting. They were about to undergo a crash landing, and the last thing he needed was to be killed by the toxin of an umbaran night flower after a successful landing... No thank you.

... It took seconds for Sigal to fly into the escape pod, Hastur's hand slammed on the ejection button allowing the door to slam shut, power to be activated in the pod and the pod was launched instantaneously, thrusters pushing it towards the planets surface with haste. No sooner were they clear of the oceanspray freighter, the three remaining concussion missiles slammed into the ship, the military shields of the ship meaning absolutely nothing from the hit of the capital class weaponry. The explosion that ensued was gigantic, sound carried on the wave of oxygen from the pressurized bubble that had simply been popped reached the escape pod in a muffled cacoffanic roar. The shockwave of the blast slammed into the escape pod the ephemeral pressure passing through the steel container as if it were air throwing Hastur into the wall and knocking the boy unconsious like he had been discarded by a wave of the hand. All the while, the pod itself had been sent spiraling out of control, barely able to correct itself as they entered the atmosphere of the planet below them.

But they were free...​

... All the while the ship had seen that the 2 escape pods had been launched, already they had sortied ships and landing crews to move to the planets surface, hunt down the survivors and attempt to ensure that no message or S.O.S could be sent out. While the planet was far from being blockaded, it seemed that this was the first step toward an inevitability for the rogue world. Whatever happened next, would be up to the force to decide, as Hastur was at the mercy of gravity, slumped against the floor like a dead weight, he didn't let out so much as a groan pass his lips. A small trickle of blood flowed from the back of his head, only really visible when it made contact with the floor, the uneven surface causing a trail of it to flow in a single direction.

... While Hastur was far from injured, he would likely have a concussion, and would be a long way from getting any medical condition.

Yet the night had only just begun...​

 

[Pam0wl]

No sooner had Sigal flew into the escape pod, was she then thrown back with unsettling force. The momentum of the pod's disengagement was jarring; she desperately grappled with the inner fittings, attempting to find some grip to steady herself. But the shockwave of the ship's destruction sent her reeling, along with Hastur. Sigal was thrown back into one of the pod's corners; the impact on her back robbed her of a pained cry. Instictively, the girl used her hands and feet to brace herself further into the corner, using it as a sort of secure footing to stop any further movement.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, more our to surprise than analysis. They destroyed the ship... If they were truly after the information they were carrying, their enemy wouldn't have risked the complete destruction of the spacecraft. Sigal had been wrong about her initial assumption; perhaps they hadn't actually meant to be the sole target of the cruiser; they had just been at the wrong place, at the wrong time. But the thought offered little comfort. Now they were hurtling towards the planet's surface had accelerated speed. Already she knew the landing would not be pleasant, they would need a miracle to survive. From the corner of her eye, she caught the visage of the black haired boy listlessly drifting in the unsettled gravity of the escape pod. If they impacted and he continued as he was, he would surely suffer grievously. Sigal reached out through the force, pulling the boy closer to her, ensuring he couldn't be thrown around like a rag doll anymore.

But nothing could prepare them for the impact on the planet's surface. The escape pod battered and shattered it way through a section of the planet's forest. It softened the landing of the pod but only for a fraction. Sigal clutched Hastur tightly, attempting to shield them both from further harm. They could only wait and ride out the rough landing. The Hapan had suffered such emergency landings before but fear still gripped her. The motion of the pod seemed unending as it raped its way into the forest ground. The final jerk whipped Sigal's face into the hard side of the pod's walls. Spots blurred her vision as she battled to remain conscious.

With a whining scrape, the escape pod finally came to stop, leaving a path of ruin in its wake. Sigal groaned; her entire body throbbing in protest of the small action. They may have escaped death, but certain not injury. The Hapan made feeble attempts to move, but her body -for the moment- was reluctant to respond. For a short time, she merely rested, waiting for her pounding heart to subside and the overriding pain to fade. She vaguely remembered the other occupant of the pod was still within her grasp. She called out to him, attempting to ensure he was still alive. “Courier?”
She waited for a response, cradling her throbbing forehead in the palm of her hand. The mere touch elicted a dull ache of pain. Then she felt the distinquishing feeling of liquid – a slow, scoldering bead trailing its way down from the clip of her nose and lip. Sigal’s heart seized. In a fevered panic, she discarded the veil covering, instantly skimming her face for injuries. She looked at her hand in horror, sighting blood. I'm...I'm w-wounded!

Sigal was ravaged with more terror and shock by the thought than the actual crashing of their escape pod. Despite the protest of her body, she instantly began desperate attempts to move and sit up. Again her hand returned to bruised and injured portion of her face; already she could feel the swelling and inflammation begin to form. The thought of miscoloured, lumpy skin on her the contours of her face sickened her.

Must relax… reach out with my mind… She shakily breathed, closing her eyes. She attempted to calm her panic. Reach inside… through the pain… to touch the Force. Stop the bleeding… mend flesh… renew.

She had done this numerous times before and had thanked the force profusely for it; her skills at healing were limited, but they allowed her to mend small amount of damage. Yes, her wounds were merely cosmetic and would heal in time, but to a Hapan, disfigurement was met only with disgust and grief. Beauty was Sigal's pride; she allowed nothing to mar it. The small cuts slowly melded together, stopping the slight trail of blood. The cells beneath her skin repaired and decrease the injury, halting any further bruised formation. Sigal sighed in relief, though she dreaded to inspect the rest of her body; yet a weight in her lap stopped her moving any further.

Hastur. ​

She recalled now her actions in the pod; she had held onto the young man so tightly, she shouldn't have been surprised he wasn't knocked far from her reach. But he was unconscious; blood staining her robes. Wincing at the sight of the crimson stain, Sigal reluctantly pushed away her reservations. The boy needed to live; despite her jokes, she had been assigned to protect him. Ultimately, he would be he who would deliver the case. After a moment of hesitation, Sigal looked down at Hastur, scanning him for any worrisome injuries. She was not skilled enough to treat anything near fatal, and was relieved to find Hastur’s body showed no visible signs of any such trauma. She lightly rested her hand over his head, the apparent source of his bleeding. A simple fix; the force warmly enraptured her hand and caressed out to soothe the wound. The skin sealed, though Sigal did not wait an excessive amount of time to ensure it was full healed. Instead, she tried to rouse Hastur.

‘Wake up!’ She urged, ‘Courier, wake up! We must move quickly’. Already she suspected the cruiser would be sending out a search; it would have been impossible not to notice the pods evasive escape towards the planet's atmosphere.
When the boy did not respond, she sighed, rolling him -somewhat roughly- off of her lap as she attempted to exit the pod; he was alive, that was good enough for her, for the time being at least. Her gaze became focused on their surroundings. With the grace of a crippled bantha, Sigal edged her way out of the pod, coughing slightly as her pained chest ached. Her violet eyes scanned the nearby scene around them. The organic structures, mauve in coloration, towered over them; their odd fluorescent lights glowed eerily amongst their shadowed environment. The escape pod had left a jagged trail amongst the soft terrain. It would be easily sighted when in close enough range; they would have to abandon it for now and proceed of foot. But where? Behind them was nothing but mountains. They were surrounded by the fleshy forest of alien fauna, who knew what beasts lurked in their depths. The only sign of civilisation was a distant glow, the result of heavy light pollution. Sigal could only assume it was a settlement of some sorts. From the size of the illumination radiating off into the night sky, it was a big one. Perhaps even the city they were meant to make their original landing to; but without a clear idea as to their location, Sigal couldn't be sure. Hastur had programmed the escape pod's descent. He would be the best to ask. Sigal sighed and returned to her younger counterpart; she hoped he would rouse soon. She did NOT want to drag his limp form through the wilderness, not whilst they were being hunted.

She could sense it now. The darkness about to descend; not just on them but on the whole world. Sigal cursed herself for not noticing it sooner. None of the planet's inhabitants knew what horror was about to be unleashed upon their little outlaw paradise. But for the pair, there was worse risks to consider. Their unseen enemy once again reached out, searching and scouring for them. It sent a shiver down the Hapan's spine. They needed to put as much distance between themselves as the escape pod; more importantly, they needed to formulate a plan. A good one. And fast.

'Rise and shine, sleeping puny' Again, she shook Hastur roughly, a hint of urgency edging her tone. 'Time to move'.

@Baobhan

 

[Baobhan]

'Only in Darkness can you see the stars...'​

... Night, was all that Hastur was able to see, rousing from his slumber he found himself walking the earth of an unfamiliar world. The forest around him seemed to vibrant, and yet so vague, as if he knew the names of every creature within arms reach, each on the tip of his tongue, teetering as if to leap, but within his throat silence strangled, forcing him mute. He could feel the pain in his head, as looking upon the ground he could see the puddle of blood that he had left there. As his eyes turned to the sky above him, he could see the stars twinkling brightly as the colours of swirling ephemeral nebula painted the sky with blues, reds and yellows stealing his focus for minutes before the young boy began to question where he was at all... though he knew something for sure, something didn't feel right...

Something, out of place.​

... Hastur could not remember the crash, his memory of how he had arrived here was faint, a condition akin to the events of the past being so far gone, they were beyond immediate recollection. But in his search his eyes were drawn to a disturbance in the earth at his feet. His face furrowed into a thoughtful expression as he moved to inspect the direction he moved in, as whispers from a distant world wafted across the air around him, panicked cries and shuffling movements reaching him like the caress of a ghostly hand. Inquisitive, but ever curious hastur continued, pushing forward into the unknown as the foreign plain expanded into a wide prairy in every direction. The sun resting warmly on his face as he breathed a sigh of relief. Looking back curiously at where he had come from, Hastur became unnerved to find that the forest was gone... clouds began to darken the sky quickly as Hastur himself began to plunge into doubt and fear.

Something, wrong, deathly wrong.​

... What was once a huch, morphed rapidly into an instinctual knowing, darkness and shadow began to suffocate the boy as the unmistakable feel of the dark-side could be felt from every angle. There was something coming, Hastur attempted to become calm, but the strength escaped his mind, the pallette of his emotions out of reach of the artist, his body begining to shake as he scanned each direction before finally, the feeling of the power around him spiked behind him. Swivelling on a single foot he turned, fist at the ready as his face warped with objective terror, a hand reaching out for him at speed as the words 'wake up' tore through the darkness, coaxing the boy to the world of the waking with a start, yelping in fear as he was dragged to the living world, disoriented and confused.

... Pain and discomfort were the first things to meet his sudden movements, followed quickly by memory as it seemed that he was in the escape pod that they had landed in. Letting out a long groan, Hastur cradled his head, nursing the light concussion he was no doubt feeling. Sweat was beading from his skin as he looked at the healing face of the Hapan before her, while her wounds had healed his eyes were attracted to the advanced scarring that was fading by the moment it seemed. Sighing loudly, Hastur would raise as if he were resurrected for the first time, gripping for the edges of the pod as he would clutch the case on the ground, dragging it to his side as he would move to exit the vessel.

... Standing beside Sigal, Hastur would see the direction of the lights in the distance, while it seemed that the vessel that had hunted them down had sent a search party after them. Small red dots could be seen entering the atmosphere above them like a meteor shower, each of them no doubt a drop-ship with several men and women on board ordered to search and eliminate any trace of the downed ship before they could report to the republic or any other source... It was time to move. But first Hastur would turn to Sigal, opening his mouth, straining words from his lips he would inquire.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to rest? The people chasing us will probably be on top of us in about ten minutes so we should get moving. I charted a course a couple of miles out of the city so that we wouldn't land on top of anyone, but this planet is noted to have some dangerous fauna and flora. So you'll need to keep an eye out for anything... uhh... sarlac'y.”​

... Hastur would sound unsure of himself as the name of the species ecsaped him, though he knew there was some tentacles predator in the forest that he was not to get close to, but it was the flora he considered more deadly. Hostile planets with hostile herbivores which had no doubt came into being here, developed hostile plants who needed to protect themselves against invasive species. This planet was exactly the same as umbara, but under a different sun. Even if they were in trouble here, nature was a double edged sword, and he doubted the sith were the ones to employ such things as their ally.

Awaiting on her reply, Hastur would turn on his heel, looking toward the distant city, and begin to move with an almost drunken haste. His weak body and light concussion having robbed him deeply of his coordination and finesse of movement.

 

[Pam0wl]

“I am unharmed.” Sigal tentatively admitted with a curt nod, “but it seems time is against us. It seems best to move quickly.” Ensuring nothing of consequential value was left in the pod, Sigal followed Hastur away from the crash site, though she arched her brow at the disorientated strut of the boy. Perhaps she should have taken more time to heal him; admittedly, it was a rushed job. The last thing she needed was for the green eyed courier to lose conscious whilst in mid flight from their enemy.

Reluctantly, she approached him, offering a shoulder to ensure he had some balance. Her expression however -now unhidden- did not seem to show revelry in the gesture. “Try and walk steady for a moment.” Her gloved hand returned to the back to his head, the warmth of the force soothing and knitting any remaining minor damage. It took her a moment to focus; though she adept a healing, it took time and concentration – a hard thing to do when they were attempting to flee possibly enemies. Nevertheless, the fogginess would soon clear from Hastur’s mind, enabling some better movement, though there was little she could do for the overall soreness of his body. She was similarly afflicted but stubborn Hapan pride pushed passed the pain. When they were a secure and safe shelter, only then would she document the real damage done to her body. She could enter a meditative trance and allow then for her body to heal back to its original glory.

The girl seemed to consider Hastur’s words as he spoke, though her tone was as cool and composed as before, “Do not concern yourself with beasts.” A small smile tugged at her once bloodied lips, “Most tend to find me…charming.”

It seemed she had some sort of advantage over animals, though she seemed unwilling to share anything at the moment. Instead, she was focused on their marching pace through the forest. Admittedly, she had not even thought about possible threats from the fauna. Everything in the forest seemed so still and unassuming – it lulled the Hapan into a false sense of security for now. Besides, her thoughts were focused on other matters.

“Courier…” She still refused to call him by his given name, “Do not take this personally, but if we are confronted by enemies, I want you to run. This is not an intended insult to you, as vertically challenged as you are, but ultimately you are the one meant to deliver this information. I am simply your body guard. All joking aside, I must keep you alive.” Though there may have been some genuine motive behind Sigal’s words, she did not wish for the boy to develop over indulgent thoughts of familiarity. Once she was satisfied Hastur was walking with better balance, she immediately withdrew her support, creating a set distance between them. “Try not to make the job too difficult for me.”

Though they had been walking for a short time, it had given the Hapan time to think about their situation and their soon to be pursuing enemies. Against her distant nature, Sigal felt compelled to share her thoughts with Hastur, hoping it would possibly aid him in some way, should their paths eventually be split. She also hoped, with a degree of reservation, that he would be able to offer some insight into their predicament. Already he had shown a keen mind which she had not expected. She wondered what else the younger initiate could do to surprise her.

“We weren’t their original targets.” She remarked absently, casting her gaze upwards towards the close approaching red lights. They would be landing any minute. “They wouldn’t have destroyed the ship if they were after the information in your case. Regardless, now we have their attention. I sense the dark side aligned closely with them; these are not simple pirates.”

Sigal turned her sharp gaze to the forests surrounding them; the ground was soft, absorbing a degree of noise caused by their movement. The trees held her attention the most; the texture of the tall vegetation seemed almost flesh like and pulpy, though she dared not touch it to find out. The wilderness was oddly silent; perhaps their violent entry into the territory had scared away most of the wildlife. But it was only a matter of time until the predators ventured out to investigate; the night was their ally and comfort – and Sigal’s worst fear. The girl mentally chided herself for harbouring such a childish phobia. She felt if she revealed it, she would be openly mocked; so Sigal attempted to hide it from Hastur. But her heart was overly pounding; her ears more attune to the simple, minuet noises that did exist within the shadowed depths of the forests whilst her eyes darted wildly amongst the shadows. Hapans were incredibly blind in dark settings; their homeworld was almost always in the grave of perpetual light. The only way she could where she was going was from the soft illumination given off by the luminescence of the tree trunks.

For now, they guided her way, though Sigal out stretched her hand in order to reach out through the force and lead her way. She would never admit it, not to Hastur, her mentors or even herself but she was still terrified of the dark.

And especially of the monsters that lurked within its realm. ​

@Baobhan

 

[Baobhan]

'Dark things lurk in dark places... but the darkest things don't.'​

... The young boy was happy to see that she was relatively ok, though he could pick up a couple of strange smells in the vicinity around them. His cold hand reached out with aching digits to clasp tightly around her offered hand that had been offered to him, a strange gesture, not one he expected from the hard women, but, pulling himself from the earth he would not mind the gesture, even if no kindness emanated from it. The air of the planet they had fallen into was arid, humid, he felt like he would be able to swim in the air were it any worse, although it was different he was sure he would acclimatize to it in time. But as the girl before him pulled him close, feeling a hand to the back of his head and warmth, unlike any he had ever felt flow over him, he was caught off guard for a moment, something hard to do as he ws faced with not only close human interraction but the force flowing through him and healing his wounds from the inside out...

It was bizarre, like being embraced by both a careless lover and a loveless carer.​

... The pallete of the boys emotions would flash out before his minds eye, as he realized that, realistically, this instance would change his outward emotion on the universal stage. In a fraction of a moment, they boys eyes would flicker to nothing more than a dead, hollow absent stare, closing his eyes to hide what little tell he would give before opening them again. The boys cheeks would have flushed with the closeness of the girl, as soon as she was done he would recoil as a sense of deep social awkwardness and embarrassment would be evident, looking anxious looking back and forward and avoiding eye contact for the most parts. Hoping to avoid any more awkward scenarios, he would move to flee into the depths of the jungle, leading the way for the two of them, only to be halted yet again by the voice of his companion.

... The paintbrush of his emotional transition would sweet across his facial canvass, painting sorrow and guilt across his expression at the thought that he would only slow her down. The sentiment was true, but it didn't mean that he didn't have any semblance of pride to be tarnished. Fists coiling at his sides in reaction to the small speech the boys face would furrow for a moment, uttering a single word under his breath before turning on his heel and doubling on his speed towards his destination. “Fine...”

If she wanted to bear the weight of the mission, he couldn't stop her...​

... Hastur would move at increased speed, feeling a slight ping in his chest as he would turtle the sheer potential of a negative emotional state even deeper, replacing any hurt that he could have felt with determination to finish the mission. The boy had resolved that he would prove to the person he was with at some point that he was not simply dead weight. But the conversation that continued changed from his position and became more about the ship that they were dealing with moments before. Hastur slowed his progress as he used a tree to support himself, his body still wracked from the impact and his lessening concussion, due to the merit of the force heal that his comrade had supplied.

“I have no clue why they would shoot us out of the sky, we've never been here before, there is no way they got the information about us, it's like they're just blowing random ships out of the sky...”​

... He would say openly, as they would come to a suspicious clearing, the place here seemed to be devoid of trees for some space in a full circle around a single willow in the middle of the area. Hastur crept out into the opening, looking at the soil which seemed to be fine, yet the plants around it, even the grass save for a few weeds looked to have completely died off... Something here wasn't quite right. Moving forward he would look to inspect the willow tree, it's long hanging vine like branches creating a veil they could not see past. Whatever had caused this devastation, it seemed to be creeping, and this bizarre tree seemed to be at the center of it all. Interested, Hastur would take from his pockets a small preservation kit, taking samples of the branch, seeds leaves bark and sap from the tree. Clipping them away in his poket for now as something seemed to be nearing their position, from a nearby river which the tree seemed to be perched at the side of.

something large.

 

[Pam0wl]

Sigal’s paid no heed to Hastur’s discomfort. Instead, she was focused on navigating their way through the darkness of the forest. No amount of night time exposure would aid her vision. She solely relied on the force and the disorientating vision of the trees glowing illuminances. She gritted her teeth, feeling somewhat on edge – as if being hunted down by unknown enemies wasn’t bad enough-. With a irritable sigh, Sigal pushed on, attempting to keep up with Hastur’s hastening past.

'Not long ago, he couldn’t even walk in a straight line. Now he’s blazing a trail…'​

The Hapan stretched out her hand further, an instinctive action when on the verge of tripping. “Don’t walk too far ahead. I can’t – Never mind.” She growled, increasing the pace of her stride until Hastur’s shadowed outline became clearer. In her line of sight, he looked like a blob of moving shadows. The enemy could be metres in front of them and she wouldn’t even notice. Hoping to distract herself, she dwelled on their brief exchange of words; perhaps it would ease her growing nerves. Sigal agreed the cruiser’s aggressive and extreme measures of engagement were puzzling. If they were not their target, then what was? Yet again, she cast her gaze skyward; even the stars seemed blurred and indistinguishable. Then a cold shiver ran down Sigal’s spine

The red lights in the sky had vanished; their enemy had landed.​

“Courier, we need to mov-oh!” She ended up bumping into the young man, unaware he had stopped to take some sort of plant samples. With her poor eye sight, she could not see the detailing of the ground; the absent of life and obvious disturbance. She stepped back, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to focus her vision “What are you doing? Now is not the time to indulge in botany.” She knew nothing of Hastur’s interests and hobbies and truth be told she didn’t want to know. Truly she wanted to find shelter and wait out the night until glorious dawn came with the enlightening rays of the sun (clearly that was not an option). She staggered away from Hastur, closing her eyes to see if she could pinpoint their enemy’s landing point. She was hoping if she could get a better idea about their position, she could begin forming a plan, along with counter measures. But instead, she picked up something nearby.

It was large and it was moving.​

“Courier…” She beckoned softly, hastily gesturing for him to move back towards her whilst she stayed stationary. In a hushed, slow tone, she whispered, “Something is here…” The Hapan listened and waited, depending on her heighted sense of hearing to discern anything. But again, the forest was silent and unmoving. There were no sounds. In a flourishing forest, that was surely a sign of impending doom.

The it came.​

A vine line limb flung from the water, wrapping itself around Hastur’s foot. The skin was cool and clammy, mounted in a repulsive slime. From the river, a creature emerged; its body was encased in a hard, miscoloured shell. Strong, sharp legs chittered against the ground as it moved forward onto the draw land. At least four or five flaying tentacles waved erractic -one currently wrapping itself around the rest of Hastur’s body, holding him immobile-. Each of the flesh coloured limbs spanned over metres; the beasts reach went far. Sigal narrowly avoided being snared herself. She scurried back in the dirt, trying to comprehend the situation which had bizarre turned afoul on them. She opened herself to the force, picturing the aquatic creature within her mind.

“A blixus.” She breathed, somewhat stunned by its identity. They were almost unheard of in the wild now, their numbers severely decreased due to hunting and trafficking. The great monster was highly prized in ecological aquariums, even though they shared a common ancestry with the sarlacc, rathtar and vixus. But this also meant that it was extremely dangerous, especially as it exposed its gaping mouth, filled to the brim with tittering, sharp teeth.

Stop!
​

Sigal desperately called out through the force, conveying her message onto the beast’s own mind. Its movement halted slightly, but Hastur was still its prisoner. And so it seemed to remain for a few moments. It seemed she was communicating with the beast; every so often it would click or titter from its mouth. But still, it did not release Hastur. Sigal’s expression was one of struggle and vexation. This creature was old; not easily tamed and charmed as she would have thought. “I have good news and bad news…” she slowly drew her saber, “Bad news is that this beastie is adamant it wants to eat you” -violet blue saber ignited with a crisp hiss- “Goods news is your small enough for him to do in one bite.”

Once more the creature began its raving; dangling Hastur closing to its chomping guzzle. Sigal focused, twirling her saber in preparation. She called out to Hastur, hoping he would be ready – even if she hadn’t told him her plan. “As hard as this is going to sound – Don’t move.”

​

She flung her saber towards the beast and severed three of its squirming, convulsing limbs.
​

​

​

​

@Baobhan

 

[Baobhan]

''​

... Hastur could hear the jeers of the girl behind him, her disapproving voice would penetrate through the dull lighting of the world as Hastur would object, telling her in not so uncertain words that the process would only take a moment, and that he wanted to see why this tree seemed to be killing all the other plants around it. As he pragmatically placed the cap on the kit and began to move back towards Sigal with haste, she ushered in an amount of caution, as something seemed to be coming ever nearer. Hastur froze in place, his eyes darting from one side to the other in an attempt to see, like an animal he had entered a state of heightened alarm, his hair almost standing up on end as the supple, silent tendril slunk along the ground like a shark gliding through water... By the time Hastur felt the warmth of the viscus tentacle positioning itself around his foot, it was too late.

The beast had sensed his awareness, and it struck like lightning.​

... Whipping around his leg, Hasturs attempt at a pained cry was cut short, slammed into the ground as his legs were swept out from underneath him he was hauled into the sky with reckless abandon, the case that had been in his hand lurched from his grip as he swayed helplessly in the air. Coughing for a moment, he managed to catch his breath, looking down at the Blixis, wondering what it was that had caused the attack, as he looked down into the teeth filled maw that was beginning to open up from itself, Hastur let out a fear pitched scream, yelling to Sigal for desperate help. Though, as he struggled wildly, the beast began to calm, looking back to Sigal who seemed to be in deep focus, he let out a cry of triumph as he assumed that the initiate had managed to claim dominion over the beasts mind... Hopes higher than the heavens above, having them dashed so quickly was like an angels fall from grace. As Sigal mentioned her good news and bad news that the beast would eat him in one bite, the look of horror on the boys face was absolutely unmistakable.

“He WHAT!?”

... Re-affirming his struggle, he would barely hear the call for him to stop moving as the lightsaber whipped through the sky, the iconic buzzing as it launched through the ear caught the ears of the screaming boy as he swung in such a way to draw the tentacle that he was on into the flight path of the blade, having him fall almost five meters flat onto his back with a loud thump, knowing enough about falls he would exhale on impact to avoid winding himself as he would look to the beast which recoiled in absolute agony, thrashing wildly it would flay at Hastur and everything within reach with its remaining tentacles. Rolling quickly to a side, Hastur would plant a single hand on the ground, pushing his body weight up with the momentum he would launch himself to his feet in a sort of sommersault as one of the lethal lashes crashed down on where he was but a moment ago. Several of the tendrils whipping through the leaves of the Willow tree that even now Hastur was relatively close to.

... In moments, the tendrils which had caught the side of the tree, broken branches, torn off leaves and made contact with the saps within, the sensitive flesh of the tentacles would redden and begin to explode with blisterous tumours and redness that seemed to replicate burns of a kind. Entranced, Hastur would look up in an amount of amazement as the Blixus, in indescribably agony would recoil back into the river that it had spawned from, its horrifying shrieks echoing across the plains as it silenced into a gurgling drone when it finally submerged. Hastur would watch in an amount of amazement at the potency of the toxin that seemed to be on the tree, no longer caring for the Blixus or acknowledging the danger that they were now in. The scream of the creature would be like a beacon to anyone who had already made it to the ground, pinpointing their location to that of a couple hundred meters should they seek them out.

“Did you SEE that!? ” The boy would exlaim, looking back to Sigal with awe struck eyes, fighting through the tension in his chest from the fall. “It only touched that tree and it basically EXPLODED!”

... Hastur was like a child who had discovered something gruesome about nature, the mirth and wonder in his voice seemed genuine, but it betrayed the fear that he was experiencing but moments ago. In moments to come he would try to overcome the adrenaline that coursed through his veins and slow his breathing to avoid hyperventilating. looking to Sigal for direction, he would move to her side, looking up to her for her to lead the way.

_________________________________________________​

... Meanwhile

... Not far from where they had been, not long ago, a dropship landed beside the grounds of their enigmatic landing. Soldiers in black and red armour fanned out to search the area as a Single Soldier among them looked different, rather than red, he wore silver, carrying a blaster pistol in his hand and a vibroblade on his back. The mask he wore eroding any physical features across his face as he wordlessly approached the pod. One of the soldiers moving back to report the fact that the pod was empty with no sign of anyone having been within it. The silver being stood still, as if in deep contemplation for moments, inhaling slowly and holding it...

Time itself around him would feel like it would slow to a crawl.​

... With a flash of light and the sound of blaster fire, the soldier who had reported fell to the earth, lifeless before he hit the ground. The being exhaled equally as deeply before making his own way to the pod, kneeling before it and lowering his hand to the sleight splatter of blood that could be found on the interior, bringing it to his nose as his eyes would scan the horizon. He could see footprints sunken into the ground, of which there had been no attempt to hide. Small, the size of teenagers or women, two sets, heading towards the nearby city. Wordlessly he used a hand signal to round up those around him, pointing in the very direction they had been heading. Some men rushed to the drop-ship which took off to scout ahead, while about a dozen men would break out into a jog on foot, following the tracks that would, if unchecked, lead to the very location of their prey.

They had a trail, and a destination, everything was going to plan...​

... The shuddering breath of the silent silver soldier hung on his lips, as he could taste the success and fear hanging in the air... but not simply fear, he could smell... something more... something... light... his lips would twist and curl into a devilish smile beyond his void black mask it was a feeling that he had experienced before, a cruel joy lit up in the eyes of the hunter as he would breath but a single world on his next exhale...

'Jedi'

 

[Pam0wl]

“I told you not to move!”​

Sigal shouted to Hastur over the wailing of the aquatic creature; its agonizing cries were near deafening in their eat-splitting pitch. She was all too relieved when it finally crawled back into its watery lair, defeated and militated. She had not seen the final details of the climatic encounter, but she could sure enough smell the acidic tang lace itself in the air. Calling her saber back into her grasp, Sigal toed one of the lifeless limbs, now laying discarded on the soft ground. The squelch of its density gave a rough idea of what exactly was happening to the flesh as the sap eroded away the cells and organic material. Sigal promptly kicked the appendage away and shuffled closer to Hastur. Though she felt a fleeting degree of reluctance amputating the beast’s limbs, she was not in the least bit remorseful. The conflict had been unavoidable. She’d tried to reason with the beast but it seemed more interested in satisfying its hunger. Sigal had no choice but to react with a degree of force. Nevertheless, the blixus’s screeched echoed long into the night. No doubt their advancing pursuers would be alerted to their position. It would only be a matter of time before they were upon them.

They had to move.​

To say Sigal was frustrated with Hastur’s childlike fascination was an understatement. Here they were, crash landed on an assignment with enemy closing in and he was too busy admiring a plant. While he was enraptured with his recent discovery, Sigal was merely vexed by it and how easily a simple sample of corrosive sap had stolen the boy’s attention. She didn’t even bother to glance at it, knowing all she would see would be shades of black, perpetuated with varies tones of more black. Massaging her temple in a show of irritation, Sigal tried to calm herself. Truth be told, it wasn’t Hastur who tried her nerves, it was something else.

Something was closing in.
​

“I didn’t see anything, courier” Sigal finally admitted, her teeth gritted in indignation as she walked away from the acidic willow. “Hapans have very limited eyesight in the dark. My vision is severely…impaired.” She couldn’t help but wonder if Hastur would realise just how blindly Sigal had thrown her saber. It had been a impulsively action spurred on by desperation; she was still quite surprised it had worked, though she hid it behind an expression of veiled anxiousness.
They did not have the luxury of time. Already she bodied mass approach them; yet they were somehow concealed from her special awareness, as before when in the ship. She could not make out their numbers or their exact movements. It seemed to incense her further. Something -or someone- was masking the advancement of their enemy; essentially blinding them to the danger which hunted them. But though they were robbed of figurative sight, the reality of sound sunk in. “Did you hear that?”

Blaster fire.
​

The hapan’s sensitive ears pricked at the idiosyncratic noise fired off not far in the distance. Their enemies were armed with energised projectile weapons. She didn’t know if the signature sound of was a comfort or not; it neither confirmed or disproved her frantic suspicions. Regardless, they had to move quickly. Ideally, they needed transport. Fast. But where in an alien jungle could they get it?
A thought occurred. Her attempt on the blixus might have failed but where there was one creature in the vicinity, surely there was bound to be another; perhaps one of more gentle nature. Sigal sat on the ground, her hand stretched out and her eyes closed. She opened herself to the force as never before. Her reach was far and spanning wide, searching for something to aid them. But she also sought out something that was willing to answer her call. She was still coming to turns with his ability; her influence with faunae was known to falter more than succeed. In the end, it was like attempting a mind trick on a sentient; it all depended on the individual’s mind and personality. Many creatures easily shrugged off her pleas for assistance; they quickly scurried for cover at the approach of an armoured predatorial pack.

But her call was answered.
​

In a cacophony of short, loud hollers and yelps, a powerful, serpentine body crashed through the ticket of trees. “A varacty” Sigal panted, sounding almost breathless from exertion. “The best I could do on short notice. It’s young, but she’ll do.” She shakily stood at first, clutching her head in a moment of dizziness. It had taken far more focus than she had originally anticipated; the mental strain would take a moment to fade. The beaked face, long flexing neck and wildly swishing tail were telltale features; the greenish blue plumage alluded to the sex of a female. They were fairly intelligence beasts, often favoured for mounted riding; Sigal was surprised one had answered her summons. Depending on their riders, varacty could be affectionately loyal or incredibly hostile; they had to ensure they did nothing to curry its disfavour. More at home on rock faces, the maturing hatchlings preferred the comforting humidity of forests. They were in luck; the featured creatures were good runners and agile climbers. It may be enough to give them a temporary advantage.

A whisper, like that of an unwanted lover, sent dreaded shivers down her spine - ‘Jedi’.​

Sigal quickly pushed the discomfort aside and made a move, calling over to Hastur as she did so. “Tell me about the weird sap later, courier. Right now, get on the dragonmount. We need to move.” Scrambling onto the ridged spinal back of the featured reptilian, Sigal uttering hush, soothing whispers as she did, ensuring the mount remained calm for the time being. Once she was settled, the violet eyed girl then offered Hastur an assisting hand. Though it seemed like a genuine gesture, she was quick to ornate decisive instruction; “Don’t pull out any of her feathers. She’ll buck us off in a heartbeat. Now hang on!” Once she confirmed Hastur was securely behind her, Sigal gave a soft nudge of her heel in the varacty's belly, spurring it to move off. It was not trained as a mount, but through the force, Sigal could give it mild instructions and direction. But the Hapan would not be able to focus on her surrondings whilst controlling their living transport; she only hoped Hastur would be able to steer them onto the right course if they began to veer too far. With a resounding holler, the varacty -with its two passengers- set off into a gallop, trapasing through the forest at speed. Sigal could only hope they could arrive at the city borders quickly –

Before she lost consciousness...
​

​

@Baobhan

​

 

[Baobhan]

'Fear is a Great motivator...'​

... Scolded, but otherwise proud of himself Hastur would continue to follow the instructions of the person who was charged with protecting his life, but even he came to a halt and looked upward to the horizon when he heard the blaster shot... They were faster than he had thought they were, which was a troubling sign indeed, if they had bought speeders or anything of the like they could be onto them in no-time. Hastur found himself praying to the force for some fortune, but, it was unlikely at the present time that fortune would smile on them, as event seemed to be transitioning solely from bad, to even worse. Watching Sigal, Hastur would remain silent as she channeled the power of the force to call their animal friend, ordering him to hop on board and avoid touching the feathers, he would get on behind Sigal and wrap his arms around her waist tightly as they would begin to move at speed, thrashing somewhat from side to side as they made their way down.

...​

... Swiftly they began to ascent the rocky faces and make their way towards their intended destination, the speed and power of the dragon-mount was astounding, Hastur could not help but smile and let out a laugh of joy as it seemed that they were racing ahead at rocketing speeds. Within moments on the reptilian they had made about half the ground they needed to to reach the city, forests expanding in every direction towards darkness as the lights beyond grew brighter and brighter. Hastur became excited, only to be cut short by feeling the person who was steering the mount fell limp in front of him. Allowing worry to cross his face Hastur would hold onto her tightly, beckoning the reptile to slow in such a manner that she would not be thrown from its back. To his surprise, the Varactyl did as he mentioned, no doubt hearing the hesitation and worry in his voice, making it too worried about its passengers.

It even looked a little scared.​

... Hastur would arrange Silas upon its back in such a way that she would not be thrown, and they would continue their course, only to be interrupted in the rudest of manners. Those troopers who had ran to the drop-ship were scouting off ahead, bright floodlights penetrating through what canopy their was as it would become immediately evident that the group of them were in trouble... The boy had to make a snap decision, run from the transport and attempt to make as much ground as humanly possible toward the city, making their detection inevitable, or, hide from the transport and move slowly through the bush, likely allowing their immediate trackers behind them to gain more ground? Neither of them were ideal, should there have been a happy medium between the two he would have happily gone for it, but, he did not see it presented to him at the time.

The choice was hard, but not impossible.​

... Choosing to hide rather than race, he and the reptile would maneuver around behind one of the many spires, holding their breaths as the scanner would move past. The organic nature of the spire as well as the large lizard would have effortlessly thrown off any of their biological scanning equipment, seeing a piece of local wildlife and them simply moving on with their search. Some minutes passed and the drop-ship moved on to widen its search, on the offchance that the group of them had taken a less direct route. Whispering and petting the feathers of the beast, Hastur would urge it onward now, beginning to creep slowly before soon picking up some speed... Momentum gained and before long they were once again moving at full tilt towards the city, but hastur hadn't expected what came next.

They had left men on the way.​

... A tactical group of troopers had jumped from one of the many drop-ships to begin a land search further ahead, directly in the line of Hasturs and their mounts intended path. Exploding into where they all were, they all turned to face the massive creature, taking a quick panicked aim and firing openly with their blasters in the Coatl's direction. Shocked and widely aware of the danger of human weaponry, the creature made a sharp turn, sharp enough that even with Hastur's grip, the unsecured unconsious Jedi who lay upon the back of their newfound friend was launched at their very feet. As they continued to open fire on the animal which took a hit to its side, barrel rolling with the pain in such a manner that Hastur was thrown to the earth some meters away from the action before their mount finally escaped into the forest.

'At least he got away.'​

... Hastur thought to himself, not blaming the animal for panicking the way that it did. But the boy was roused at hearing the sound of men on their comms, calling in that they had one of the targets in custody, but not only that, that she appeared to be a Jedi. In searching Sigal, they found her lightsaber, and tied her arms behind her back, but otherwise leaving her on the ground for now as they were ordered to hold their position and await the drop-ship that would be coming their way. Hastur was afraid, deathly afraid. He likely would not be able to finish this mission without her. But, would she really want him coming back for her? If he remembered rightly, it was her job to ensure that they completed the mission... she could act as a distraction, and in questioning her buy him enough time to complete the mission...

“It's what she'd want”
​

... He confirmed with herself before taking the first few steps from fleeing from the scene, only to find his body against his will drag to a halt... Since when was he the Jedi who did what he was told? He was the Jedi who wanted to find his place in the world, not take the place that was given to him. Doubling back he would move to exit the bushes, biting a portion of his hand and using the blood to sully his face and arms to look like he was injured. Gripping one of the vials of umbaran night flower pollen, he would raise his hands in surrender as he moved into sight, spreading out the emotional palette before his mind once more. Pain, desperation, fear and paranoia would be his tools here. Fear already jump started his adrenaline fueling his body, which made his body shake uncontrollably. Adding to the impeccable facade. Weapons were trained on the weak, meek looking boy instantly as he cringed and began to beg.

“Ohpleasedon'tshoot! I surrende- ow! ... I surrender! Please~”
​

... The display would be convincing to the troopers for sure, seeing a small thirteen to fifteen year old kid limping out, stained with blood from the woods of a jungle planet, case at his side, begging for parlay. It was almost too easy. Hastur would keep his begging up, hoping that the alarm in his voice would spur his unconscious companion into any state of alertness. Getting louder and louder as one of the soldiers moved closer with a weapon, using it as an excuse as he would drop to one knee with his hands behind his head. As the spectators on the other side watched keenly, their guard was dulled from the act, as soon as the soldier moved to grip Hastur's wrist he spurred into action.

'Hell broke loose'​

... Lurching a hand to grab at the hand of the trooper, Hastur would put his weight on his foot that was still on the ground, throwing his grounded leg back kicking for between the soldiers legs and planting itself there. Simultaneously, Hastur would pull on the soldier's arm as he would throw his weight down, gripping the collar of the guards' chest peace and guiding his projectile over him with his spare hand as he would ensure to plunge the man head-first into the ground with a sickening crack. The hit was all over so quickly that shock and disbelief would flash through the other two troopers... but, now he was in trouble...

'God he hoped she was awake...'​

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

‘The last thing she remembered… was the beckoning glow in the distance’

​

Though Sigal was lost in the clutches of unconsciousness, she was still moderately aware what chaos was erupting around her; she felt the sudden jerk of their mount and heard the array of blasters ringing out in the silence of the night. Sigal landed roughly, despite the soft, velvet cushioning of the ground; she groaned attempted to stir, but failed. The strain of the mission was already catching up with her. Though Sigal was considered a gifted student amongst the jedi, even she had limits. It was only a matter of time until she faltered and collapsed under the draining endeavours. She didn’t even register the rough bindings lashed around her wrists. Yet a shrill voice slowly drew her from her sluggish haze. It sounded panicked and frightened, rousing some life in the Hapan. She recognised it; it was Hastur’s and he sounded like he was in trouble. The thought caused Sigal’s dazed eyes to flicker open, enough to catch the visage of Hastur in the throes of combat. Her thoughts were coherent but somewhat distant in their comprehension. The fool should have run…

'…And yet he didn’t. Why?'
​

The miasma faded from her mind. Sigal looked about frantically, taking in the severity of their situation. Springing to life, Sigal flung her body up onto her feet; delivering a shattering, well placed kick to a trooper’s knee. He had been the one that claimed her saber and the hapan was incensed to reclaim her weapon. Spinning on the ball of her dominant foot, her other launched into the side of the trooper’s head; a devastating hit. Despite Sigal’s reluctant to engage in full on combat, this did not mean she was not trained to engage with it. The Hapan courts were sometimes a cruel place; the threat of political assassination or kidnap loomed even on the heads of the young and innocent. Sigal’s battle axe of a mother insisted she be trained in hand to hand combat and be able to hold her own. With quick reflexes and natural speed, Sigal used acceleration and momentum to hit faster and harder than any of her enemies would expect. The trooper went down to the ground. Hard. The structure of his helmet indented from the impact of her blow. Calling her saber into her grasp once more, Sigal cut through her bonds and propelled the last trooper into the volley of trees nearby; incapacitating the armoured adversary. She then glanced momentarily at Hastur, looking ready to berate him like a misbehaved child; that was until she glanced down at the boy’s own opponent, laying prone and unresponsive on the floor. An unfamiliar glint fought its way into her eyes; perhaps it was surprise. Dare he even consider that it was…a slither of respect.

‘The courier continues to impress.’
​

Perhaps Hastur was not as helpless as she had ignorantly thought in her original musings. But now was not the time to reconsider prematurely made impressions and opinions; they had to make haste and put as much distance as possible between them and the fallen troopers. No doubt the troopers reinforcements would arrive soon with superior numbers and firepower. She could almost hear the hover of their approach in the distance. “Run!” She shouted, blindly making the cover of the trees leading towards the beckoning lights of the city. They were close, if they could make a break for the borders of the city, they could blend in the raging population and find shelter. Then they could regroup and reorganize; perhaps even alert their superiors. Sigal discarded her heavy outer robed, finding it hindered her speed and escape on the catching, grabbing skewers of the illuminance trees. Despite being greatly favoured by the Hapan for its fine stitched detail, it was abandoned without a second thought. Once they reached the city, they could find new disguises and coverings. For now the Hapan was focused on staying alive and keeping Hastur that way as well. Picking up speed, she grabbed on Hastur, ensuring they were still linked, within each other’s range of reach should they need to defend themselves again. Her plan had been wrong. Splitting up -for now- would be a foolish endeavour. Being hunted by a pack, there was only strength in numbers.

‘They knew not of the real hunter that was licking at their heels'
​

Sigal could see the lights of the city limits within their reach; with it came improving optical vision and a newfound hope blossoming in the pit of her stomach. If they kept running, they could reach the city within minutes...if they weren't shot by the encroaching drop ship. Sigal wasn't sure if her saber could deflect the blaster shots, and frankly, she didn't want to find out. They needed cover, something to distract their pursuers. That was when the Hapan's eyes caught sight up ahead; an encroaching trade convey, no doubt led by a pirate guild or criminal syndicate based on the formalised guard stationed around the moving cargo transport. Keeping Hastur insight, she began running towards them, waving her arms desperately to get their attention. "Cops!" She shouted, again and again, "Raid!" She cried the words over and over in every single language she knew, hoping the mixture of aliens amongst them would understand. If her hunch was right, she had just enlisted some reinforcements of their own; though they were just as likely to shoot the pair in the crossfire. Never did Sigal think in her lifetime she would owe a debt of gratitude to a bunch of pirates, smugglers and crooks; but stranger things were known to happen in their strange galaxy.

Hoping Hastur was close by, Sigal narrowly dodged and avoided the retaliating blaster rounds being fired. Luckily, their armed marauders were more focused on the supposed law enforcement encroaching on their little slice of criminal paradise. Once the jedi pair were safely behind the lines of volleying blaster fire, Sigal stole a glance at their pursuers, intent on trying to identify them for later reports or identification. She quickly pushed Hastur ahead of her, in her mind somehow keeping him safe from being identified himself. But she wasn't afraid to brandish her face before the enemy; she was a proud -and beautiful- hapan, of noble lineage; equally importantly, she was a jedi and would not cower before their hunters. She wanted them to see her. She stood defiant for a moment; her expression would have been almost triumphant, berating in a way as she knocked off a mocking salute. But she knew this wasn't over. If they pursued them into the city, at least they would have more luck tracking her rather than Hastur. With one last pause, she bled into the crowds, following after the green eyed boy.
​

'They were but two faces, lost amongst a sea of many.'​

​

@Baobhan ​

 

[Baobhan]

'Run!'​

... She didn't have to tell Hastur twice, Hastur among everything else stood out as quick on his feet, the boy had some knowledge of the Ataru form which he had put into practice in the art of movement. Snapping up the case and able to keep up with his Jedi compatriot well enough, he would duck, weave, and vault through the arid, flora filled landscape. His eyes would analyze the ground ahead of him as his body would prepare itself for the evasive action he would have to take, using the push from his legs with every bound and the nature of airborne velocity, he would not slow as he jumped, he would not slow as he slid or turned. By gripping vines or speeding up moments before he would have to leave the ground or grip, he would sustain his momentum at a scarily consistent speed. As much as he would likely offend any hardened Ataru warrior, the greatest skill of form four, was the ability to run away.

Yet they were not alone.​

... The gunship hovered in the distance, setting down where they had once been, no doubt finding and collecting the men who they had downed not long before. Hastur had been surprised at Sigal's ability to snap back up and assault the men who had apprehended her, and were he being honest of himself, he was somewhat proud of the people that she fought... considering that she had warped the armour of one of their helmets with her devastating kick, yet the man's neck didn't snap like a twig. The simple fact alone was a feat, they were making soldiers out of stronger and stronger stuff these days, and the thought had Hastur's imagination running wild. What was good though, is that he hadn't had to use the Bio-Luminescent toxin that he held tightly in his right hand. The boy had the weapon at the ready, but he didn't like the thought of taking a life, even if it was the life of an enemy intent on taking theirs.

There was always a price to pay for murder.​

... Ligh expanded across the horizon in the distance, leading the forest that lay behind them beginning to become scarce as the shapes of people could be seen moving in the distance, it was the outskirts, and thus, it made sense that this would be the shadier part of town. But without missing a beat the Drop-ship from before was on their tail, Hastur, looking back as opposed to his companion, saw amongst the black and red soldier that were hounding them down, the man in the chromatic armour jump from his position in the drop-ship. Pointing forward for his men to advance wordlessly as they would charge, blasters at the ready and aiming to fire on their location. Hastur would turn to Sigal quickly, opening his mouth to scream a warning to her, as she seemed to beat him to the punch, calling out not to him in warning, but to those before her, warning them of the supposed 'cops' that were on their tail. The scavengers scattered, diving for weapond to defend themselves on such short notice without the ability to run.

All hell broke loose.​

... Diving forward, Hastur would plunge into cover, running further forward while Sigal seemed to stall, taking a glare backward as she would see the ensuing firefight between the soldiers and the small army of privateers doing battle. The battle-lines were drawn, the pirates had cover, while the soldiers were caught on a flat plane with nothing to hide behind other than each other. Even to pirates this was shooting fish in a barrel. The blaster shots that would ring aloud would smash into their armour as it seemed that the soldiers would have their luck cut out for them, pulled apart piece by piece by the efficient self preservative instinct of the scum that littered this planet.

Hastur would move to bury himself further into the city, looking for anywhere he was able to hide, looking back only for a moment to catch Sigal peering back at their enemy. Shouting at her to hurry up, he would move deeper into the city, never knowing the fact that, deeper in, their troubles would only compound. The two ships which had dropped in the wilderness were only two of what a light cruiser was capable of carrying, compared the the dozen or so which had actually entered the atmosphere in search of them. Many had already landed in the city, the streets further in toward the CBD were crawling with soldiers in an attempt to identify the Jedi on the streets, not quite knowing their intention here, but knowing all too well that leaving loose ends was a failure to their order.

And failure, was not permitted.​

... Hastur, after what seemed to be an eternity of running, turning corners into back-alleys within back-alleys. Loosing himself in the veritable maze of civilization before finally his stamina gave out, no matter how hard you tried, Ataru was a force enhanced art, any amount of dedication on the force past levitating a pencil sized object while meditating was exhausting to Hastur. Panting heavily with his hands on his knees and dropping his case to the side with a loud clang as he would fight to regain his breath. Sweat beaded across the boys' face as he gasped, sliding down the back of the wall he had pitched himself up against. Only then did he think to scan the horizon for Sigal, for a moment he would think he lost her, looking around frantically, he didn't see her... had she gotten left behind? Was she lost? Fear crept in like one of the many toxins in Hastur's arsenal...

He hoped she'd be there soon...​

... Minutes before, the silver clad soldier among the men who attempt to strike at the beach head of this civilization, looked up to see the smirking face of Sigal peering back at him before she would disappear. Drawing a single one of his pistols and redoubling his efforts, the wraith like man would advance, not firing wildly like the soldiers around him, but rather levelling a single shot at the chest of one of the pirates, and shooting once. Mark. Panning his outstretched arm horizontally he would halt it, holding his finger at the second pressure of his blaster pistol he would allow it to clock over a second time just like he had before. Mark. As soon as the pirates saw that the man in silver, man by man was cutting a swathe through their ranks, they would move to target him in an effort to bring him down. Mark, Mark. A blur of green and blue plasmic projectiles rang out from the pirates side in the hope of meeting their target. Mark. Only to have the silver'd man grip the collar of one of his own men at their tactic, pushing him forward as the dummy quickly soaked the combined assault of the remaining pirates. Mark, Mark... ... Mark.

Then they broke...​

... The pirates had lost too many men, and the man who was still advancing on their position had put the fear of god into each and every one of them. Few more than 2 of his own soldiers surviving, he allowed the once living shield that he gripped in his hand to fall lifeless to the ground at his feet. Moving to approach one of the pirates who lay squirming, saved from his masterworked blaster by what modicum of armour he happened to wear, the chromatic ghast would tred upon the wound, leaning down and pressing the barrel of his weapon to the aliens' head. Leaning down closer and whispering like the chorus of death in his ear but a single question before the final strangled blaster bolt would leave the round of his pistol.

Where are they...?​

...Mark​

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

Here one minute, gone the next.​

Sigal ducked into a nearby alley, peering keenly through that crowd that passed by without a second thought. She waited for her heart to still, once more trying to reign in control over herself; their enemy’s armour was unmistakable but the leader of the troops, the Silver Soldiers…he was truly a beast. Even now she could sense his strategic -yet ruthless- kills. He, as his men, were organised, disciplined and well trained; these were not simple criminals Sigal hoped to outmatch with a witty clash of cunning. If only she could be so lucky…realisation was slowly creeping in. Every so often she would peak around the corner, ensuring the enemy had yet to breach the city border. The fight in the distance continued, yet it was waning. The conflict was drawing to a bloody close and it had not bought the jedi pair as much time as she would have hoped. She had grievously underestimated their enemy; it caused a bout of frustration in her. She was usually successful in her predictions and assumptions, yet so far Sigal was forced to keep adapting her thoughts and options. It was not a pleasant practice. The hapan had a half a mind to inform their mission overseer about this development, but for the moment, she had no access to an interstellar communicator. All she had on her person was the bare necessities needed to complete the mission.
​

Without a courier, there is no mission.
​

She had lost sight of Hastur in the commotion; silently, she cursed the foolish boy…and then herself. They had been so rushed, so panicked, that she had sent him running into the city without instruction or direction. Now they were separated in one of the most bustling cities on the planet. Thousands of pirates, smugglers and criminals walked through the city; anyone of them could quickly become an enemy or an aggressor. Especially if they found our Sigal or Hastur was a jedi. For now, Sigal grudgingly pocketed her saber in the folds of her layered halter hooded top. It was an instantly recognisable weapon; she could not afford to be outed so quickly, not when the enemy was still a looming threat. There were only a few ways a jedi would be treated on Caluula; they would either be killed on the spot or become the victim of some hair brain capture and ransom scheme. Or perhaps even worse…Sigal shuddered at the thought, instantly pushing it from her mind. Instead she focused on formulating a plan. Hastur was an unassuming target, for now, she hoped he would be safe…if the fool didn’t draw any attention to himself. Speaking of which…

Sigal took out her small short range communicator and attempted to contact the courier. They each had a small form of communication on their person, just incase this situation arose. “Harlequin, this is Violet.” She spoke using the pre-agreed codes stated in the mission preparation files; she couldn’t help but smile slightly at Hastur’s codename. Though the term harlequin regarded a shade of green -much like Hastur’s eyes-, it also deliciously alluded to a jester of some sort. She thought it was somewhat fitting for the boy and his bout of surprises he had shown thus far. “I can’t see the ‘rainbow’. We should go ‘home’.”

They listen. They watch.
​

The ‘rainbow’ had been the code word for Hastur’s case, their ‘home’ was an arranged safe house of some sorts they could use as a shelter and base of operations. From what Sigal remembered in the file, it was a prepaid, scummy motel; a place barely worth living in, hidden amongst the crowded city structures. A perfect place to hide in plain sight. But Sigal’s initial call was met with disruptive static, much to her annoyance. She glanced about, possibly looking for some source of signal interference; with so much activity in the city, it was no surprise their small wave length was disjointed. Sigal checked the frequency and boosted the signal, hoping it would break through the interference. “Harlequin, this is Violet, let’s go ‘home’.” She waited for a reply; when she received none immediately, she quickly moved off. She no longer heard the bouts of the blaster exchange; it was time to dive deeper into the city and evade the mongrels licking at her heels.

A mere scent could lead the blind...
​

Exiting the alley, Sigal did not bother to look frantically around for Hastur; a simple, open sign of uncertainty and weakness could be easily preyed upon by the other lower levels of predators that stalked the streets of the artificial jungle; she just hoped the boy had enough common sense to come to same conclusion as her and make his own way to the safe house. Through the streets, she walked with purpose, swaying in between the crowded market place, using her slim figure to her advantage and simply slip through the mixed populace. She didn’t rush, speed would only draw attention; just like in the wild, the eye was always drawn to movement. But Sigal still felt she stood out. She was a noble born Hapan, raised to walk with her head high and shoulders back; she needed to further conceal herself.

Sigal stopped a simple, rustic looking stall. With a casual toss of a couple of credits, she purchased a drab looking shawl just to cover her golden hair and wrap around the lower portion of her face, as well as pair of simple, bungling visor shades; they hid the exotic amethyst of her eyes. She had shown her face to their pursuers, her recognition would be a tool to use for later ploys. The crop of her top exposed a portion of her midriff and stomach, revealing a design of patterned ink around her naval. It was all part of the disguise formulated long before their -rough- arrival; the tattoo was only temporarily, making her appear slightly older and more 'authentic'. Despite its delicate and swirling pattern, Sigal inwardly despised it. Hapans only held pride for their natural, unblemished beauty. Any unnecessary alterations, modifications and variations were not kindly looked upon – Sigal was sure her mother would have a fit if she saw her now, rubbing shoulders with criminals, cavorting in their city. But for now, it was a necessary evil. She could only hope that once she met up with Hastur again they could continue the mission without any further delay.

The enemy walks unseen.
​

Daringly, Sigal reached out through the force, trying to locate Hastur. However, with so many lifeforms in close proximity, narrowing it down was fast becoming an unfortunate reality. Sigal cast her gaze upward at the mauve coloration of the night sky. Where Hastur was, she hoped her was safe...well, as safe as he could be. "Looks like you’re on your own for now, courier…”

@Baobhan

 

[Baobhan]

'I'monewiththeforce, theforceiswithme, I'monewiththeforce, theforceiswithme,
I'monewiththeforce, theforceiswithme...'​

... The phrase repeated in the boys head over and over again as he made his way through the crowded metropolis backalley where he had stalled. This place seemed to be the same kinda drab looking city as Taris, though, unlike the pit he was used to, they didn't even have natural light to give them hope simply because of the well-to-do overcity hovering over them as a constant reminder of their place in the planets social hierarchy. Here, as trampled on as people were, they still had their freedom... to an extent. Hastur immediately assumed the guise of a low looking child, his dirtied face and dried blood across it allowing him to fit right in as he showed no open signs of confidence or mirth to the outside world. He knew the minds of criminals, if you're proud or happy or anything of the sort, you had something that was worth taking. But if you were miserable, even if you were carrying a chromatic case, it was likely nothing important, or it was, and you were on an errand of some kind.

Waiting for Sigal to appear from around the corner behind him had been a harrowing wait, however, after a few moments he noticed she wasn't coming. Almost as if on cue with his thoughts, a static rang through on his communicator, as if a series of short messages had been attempted, but failed to arrive as anything more than distortion. Bringing the small tool to his lips he spoke in a slightly louder more compensating voice he would speak almost comically back into the communicator, though it became apparent very quickly that what he was saying was not getting through. The cruiser above them was probably sending out a short-wave jamming signal, or he had simply managed to damage his receiver in the chaos of the chase before. Fickle machines as always. After a few moments his device seemed to spark to life again, this time he could hear the odd word from his communicator, but not enough to make out a complete sentence.

“Arle ... this i ... et, le ... ome...”​

... Hastur figured that any attempt at returning the signal would be a wasted effort, looking to the sky for guidence he would see little. Puffing himself up for a moment he pulled out of the alley onto the street and began to make his way for 'home.' It dawned on him that the alleged meeting point should they have lost their way would be what she was mentioning, it was the most logical option for sure. Hastur allowed a smile to creep across his face as he thought to himself; 'of course that's where she would go...' It was obvious as he thought of it, so, hitching the case heftily on his shoulder, he would look to merchants selling their wares on the street for what advice they could give to the location of the motel, which, evidently seemed to be in the midst of the red light district. Playing the teary eyed child whom had lost their parent, praying on female merchants and asking for directions allowed Hastur to get buy without needing to hand out coin for information, but he learned pretty quickly that the Motel was renowned for men taking their mistresses to.

“Sigal would love that...” Hastur thought to himself as he moved along.​

... It was minutes of moving before he came to the conclusion that this journey was not going to be so simple, as he spied several of the same uniforms as the men they had encountered in the forest before. Each of them seemed to be combing the faces of those who crossed their path in a meticulous fashion. They were on the hunt, and they were getting closer, however the silver clad soldier did not seem to be among this particular group. Slinking to the opposite side of the street and opening one of the many shop doors, he would dart in quickly and crouch underneath a window to peer at those outside. Unnoticed for a minute the group of soldiers wandered on past just as Hastur became noticed by the proprietor of the spice den he had walked into, yelling in a language he could not understand, Hastur assumed that he was shouting at the boy to exit. Bowing apologetically he retreated to the door quickly like a scared mouse before scuttling off back into the street, down behind the men he had luckily slipped past.

“One group down..”​

... Moving from alley corner to alley corner he would slip down the street, ducking and laying low pretending to be asleep or homeless with others at any given chance as his teary eyes from over-use of crocodile tears had made them red and irritable. It took time, but finally he made it 'home,' where the streets smelled of blaster gas and cheap incence to vocer the smell of spice sweat and sex that seemed to hang aloft in the street. Entering the building he would see people milling around and loitering as he would move to the corner of the lobby and take a seat in silence. Looking to his broken communicator and hoping that Sigal would be along soon. While he looked like any ratty kid, she had the curse of beauty in this town, she would draw the eye, unlike him.

“I hope she's okay.” hastur would mutter under his breath as he would open his case, looking at the data-stick before thinking to himself a moment... The chromatic case of his, filled with small toxins in plasteel vials which he would promptly replace to their locations in his pockets. Taking the datastick however, he would place the useless communicator in its place, changing the radio frequency to something entirely random to not give away that information. Slipping the data device into the holster of his light-saber under the blade itself, just in case the case could be compromised in the field, he would still have the information on him, in a place where it would not come loose or fall.

So he'd wait.​

 

[Pam0wl]

S

igal had narrowly dodged yet another patrol of armoured soldiers; they seemed to be closing in, bleeding into the streets from nowhere, multiplying like shadows in the night. She had not expected such great numbers to have already infiltrated the city; their presence was starting to cause an upset and disruption to the lawlessness of the metropolitan. Everyone in the market silently questioned the same thing. What were these men doing on Caluula and what were they really after? Sigal didn’t have time to consider these questions; it seemed the soldiers were inspecting mostly women, probably searching for the face which had taunted them at the borders of the city. These armoured men were not hesitating in ripping off any facial coverings, regardless of angered protests from the individuals. If she continued her direct route towards them, no doubt she would be the next target. Discreetly, Sigal ducked into one of the alleys, ducking down behind cover until the soldiers moved passed. She held her breath, the stink of the alley was nearly intolerable. Yet with so much foot traffic on the main routes, Sigaal hesitantly came to the decision to use the backways as a method of moving around the advancing soldiers. She had studied the schematics of the city long enough to known many routes towards the building she desired. She would be walking through dangerous area; though she preferred to avoid conflict at this moment in time, she would not be afraid to use force to defend herself. That was all pirate, criminal and scum seemed to understand; power and shows of brute strength. But again, Sigal was silently concerned. The backstreets were enclosed; not the best surroundings...If she was possibly ambushed...

A trap in the making?​

Nevertheless, it was risk Sigal was forced to take. The sooner she reunited with Hastur, they sooner they could progress with the mission, before anything else threw a spanner in their works. There was no telling what the soldiers would do if they captured Hastur or Sigal. They had a perfect opportunity to shoot her in the jungle, why didn't they? Instead they bound her hands and waited for the rest of their numbers. They probably wished to question us...The thought was not a comforting one. Again, she thought back to the callous silver soldier, the way he marched through the volley of blaster bolts like some personified form of death. She shivered, looking around, perhaps fearing he would pop out at any moment. The sense of dread forced her to move - The young woman navigated her way through the back streets quickly, though mostly unnoticed, and undisturbed. Her face was still obstructed by the shawl and visor shades; only a few rebellious curls managed to poke out in an unruly fashion. Some strange beings approached her occasionally, inviting interaction with lecherous intent but Sigal simply spurned them with a gesture of her hand and subtle suggestion of the force. She did not have time to waste on lower level city scum and their crude desires; never would she entertain such disgusting notions. The sooner she found cover, the better. She glanced upwards for a moment, though behind her shades, she could not distinguish much shape or formation in the night cover and clouds. But still, she sensed it.

The beast is lurking. searching. hunting. stalking. ​

Increasing her speed, it wasn’t long before Sigal on the border of the red light district, silently gritting her teeth at the glaring, blinking neon lights. Such indignity… Sigal peeked over her shades, stealing a look at the place were sin, sex and suffering seemed to blend together in one beautiful, yet grotesque mess. Whoever arranged this cover would receive a sore earful from the displeased hapan. She was undoubted uncomfortable here were patrons flooding in and out of the district, some looking sullen and ill-used, others euphoric and satisfied. Sigal scoffed at the thought of such establishments; she even shivered, as if feeling someone running their hands over her form. She pushed such concerns aside; none had been foolish enough to lay a hand on her...yet. Amongst her people, female could entertain a number of male suitors -in the open- without shame – yet in other societies, it was the men who indulged in such decadence, though they felt the need to hide their indiscretion. What woman would degrade herself to such a trivial position? ‘The kept woman’ – again, she scoffed. The very thought left a bad taste in her mouth. The last thing she wanted was to spend too much time emerged in such implicating surroundings. Already she cast her gaze around her, concerned she may find judging eyes resting on her. Her mother would surely have a fit if she knew where her daughter was about to tread. Sigal had not bothered to approach any of the alien populace for help; what would they think? A young, female humanoid looking for directions to the pleasure district. Such actions would only invite trouble.

The things we must endure...​

Just as she was about to continue her stride, she gave a pause. She still wondered where the silver soldier she had seen earlier had gone? He had not been sighted with the men patrolling the streets; yet he did not strike Sigal as the type to simply abandon his position once the conflict was over. It confirmed her suspicions at least - these men were soldiers, military of some sorts, not just common thugs and criminals. She could only dread to think what sort of master they served. Again, she feared silently for Hastur. Though the boy had surprised her at times with his uncharacteristic fighting ability, she wasn't opportunist in their outcome against a sith. It began to rain - Sigal sighed. The temperamental planet seemed allied against them, with hostile creatures, dangerous fauna and now abysmal weather. With quickening steps, the shawl covered girl advanced, her sharp sighted gaze scanning from the corner of her eyes. She spotted the hotel nest was within near distance. But she gave a brief pause, momentarily poking her head out from the mouth of the alley.

Stay cautious. Stay safe. Stay alive.​

Impatience slowly eroded at Sigal’s resolve. Finally, she broke from the cover of the alley and continued walking after what seemed like hours, even if it was only mere minutes. Perhaps she was growing paranoid, suspicious of even her own shadow; so far whenever they thought they were safe, the enemies lurking nearby loomed closer. Their numbers were growing, but Sigal and Hastur were left with little option. All they could do was trust in the force and use every means necessary to accomplish their mission. The hour was growing late; the hapan was more fatigued than she cared to admit. Her bruised and battered body could no longer be ignored. She needed to rest and recover, but more importantly, she needed to reorganise. Finally, Sigal relented and entered the safe house, her eyes immediately scanning for Hastur.

For now, they were merely prey in hiding...​