Well, here we are. The Jedi Order was now trying to work directly with the Sector Rangers in investigating the crazy darksiders. Y'know, like Hannibal and half the Order said they should months ago. But at least it was happening. He could only hope something incredibly stupid didn't happen to ruin the whole thing. Finding and stopping the Knights of Ren would probably go a lot easier with even a little backing, seeing as the Jedi Order wasn't exactly the most numerous organization in the galaxy.
He was leaned up against a wall by a sewer maintenance entrance, waiting on the Ranger to arrive. Contrary to just about every time he'd shown up anywhere, ever, Hannibal was dressed in very practical attire, beneath which was his usual tailored blast vest. On his belt, besides the menagerie of Jedi utility belt staples were his DE-10 blaster pistol on his right hip along with two spare power packs, his lightsaber clipped to the left side of the belt, a combat fusioncutter just next to it in a little sheath. Three security spikes were stacked in another pouch. He also wore his usual gloves, and was currently in the process of rolling up his jacket sleeves while he waited, displaying the colorful and intricate tattoos. He didn't much care if the Ranger showing up at some point considered them unprofessional. They wouldn't keep him from doing his job. The small smirk was back on his face, having recovered from the holonet broadcast, and he chose this time to light himself a cigarra, the metal-lined pouch serving as a portable ashtray snapped open as he did.
Privately Hannibal wondered if this Ranger would be more of a cop or a space wrangler type, and wished he'd bet some money on it with someone. Hopefully they would get here soon. Between Ranger training and his own usage of the Living Force to track things, he was sure they'd find something.
He was leaned up against a wall by a sewer maintenance entrance, waiting on the Ranger to arrive. Contrary to just about every time he'd shown up anywhere, ever, Hannibal was dressed in very practical attire, beneath which was his usual tailored blast vest. On his belt, besides the menagerie of Jedi utility belt staples were his DE-10 blaster pistol on his right hip along with two spare power packs, his lightsaber clipped to the left side of the belt, a combat fusioncutter just next to it in a little sheath. Three security spikes were stacked in another pouch. He also wore his usual gloves, and was currently in the process of rolling up his jacket sleeves while he waited, displaying the colorful and intricate tattoos. He didn't much care if the Ranger showing up at some point considered them unprofessional. They wouldn't keep him from doing his job. The small smirk was back on his face, having recovered from the holonet broadcast, and he chose this time to light himself a cigarra, the metal-lined pouch serving as a portable ashtray snapped open as he did.
Privately Hannibal wondered if this Ranger would be more of a cop or a space wrangler type, and wished he'd bet some money on it with someone. Hopefully they would get here soon. Between Ranger training and his own usage of the Living Force to track things, he was sure they'd find something.
@Grifter