Silver Pastures: Divagation

[Acedia]

Lapse of momentary hysteria! Stale air assaulted his nostrils as he woke in the dark, streaming an inhail through his stinging throat. Abashed and bewildered, he shot up from his uncomfortable seating against the bare steel of this cargo bay in fear of the unknown. It was all blank, dark and empty. He couldn't feel his right arm, but he lifted it; fingers dragging along the cylinder crate he was draped over. Where was he? What had happened?

Then it all came crashing back behind his eyes. He was on a ship, of which make he did not know, bearing towards CORUSCANT in a cargo bay, having learned of the war over all kind. It was her, Akira Ven, who had shown him the way. She had touched his mind, a reversion of penetrating exposure like none she had experienced before. They had to stow away, like ghosts beyond the crew's perception. The soldiers, clad in white armor, had chased them here. They had seen her, an Imperial Knight, because of him. She had healed him, in more ways than one; yet only a fraction of the damage had been pressed. She had found him, drugged or beaten. He knew not of which combination of ill intent he had faced. Though he was lost, she had shown him a kind heart; bearing witness to the hate of the galaxies all around them. That sinister smile flashed in his mind's eye.

Prose whipped down and snatched the stormtrooper's rifle up from under his feet, a reaction to the fear in his dream. But then he noticed, the thin of orange lined a hair of warmth along the crease of the opposing corner. It was the bay door. It wasn't open. Was it? And where was Akira? Had they landed? He needed to see. After the last experience, Prose first considered discretion. He reached around his head and lifted the wrapped stick free from his back, the string falling loose once around his arm. He shook off his coat, switching his things from one hand to the other. He strapped the stick in front and under his arm, swung the long coat back on, and situated the rifle in the low pinch of the string's attachment into the weeve of the stick's coverings. The rifle would be fairly hidden there.

He made his way to the door, stretching out his fingers all but blindly for the light. They touched the door.

 

[Acedia]

The door didn't budge, though a surge of energy tickled through his awakening fingertips. The numbness was subsiding. Prose looked back over his shoulder to see if Akira was watching him, even though he coulnd't see anything. He didn't even know if she was still there, but his curiosity was driving him. He pushed harder, leaning into it, but no difference. He started blindly searching the nearby wall, feeling for a button or a panel or something. Suddenly, his stomach let out a wild growl from the hollows of his hunger and his heart dropped as all attempts at stealth were lost. Just then his fingers smoothed over some keys and he slammed his palm into them. It was now or never. He'd have to move fast to see this new world of green pastures and beautiful wonders of nature on which the Jedi Temple resided for himself, before she stopped him and warned of danger or something.

The bay door malfunctioned, grinded free, then hummed its gears into motion to lift only half way open. Prose grinned, then bent down with the long of his rifle erecting his coat out behind him and crawled outside.

Lifting up to a stand, the bright of daylight beamed into his sensetive eyes as he keeled back over the other way; shooting his forearm up against his forehead. "Ah, ****!" He tried to force his eyes open to a squint, looking away from the light, before he was suddenly bumped by a stranger's passing shoulder. They spoke in some strange language he couldn't understand, but then managed to look up back into the half opened cargo bay from which he just emerged. He couldn't see Akira in there. But then he couldn't see much of anything.

Prose lifted back up, and to his surprise an enormous cityscape towered before him into the orange and blue sky. It was either sunrise or sunset. He had no idea which way was which. But as he stared at the unimaginably tall skyscrapers and air traffic through his blurred wincing eyes, his stomach called out again. He was starving, people of all kinds were coming and going all around, and he had a rifle hidding under his arm. He knew he had no money, and his first thought wasn't a very honest one.

Whatever he was going to do, he hadn't quite developed a moral code yet seeing as how he couldn't remember who he was. And standing around out here wasn't exactly an option, as the crowd began pushing him along. He figured, he'd just find something to eat quickly and then come back to the ship where Akira might be waiting for him. Wherever this crowd was taking him into the busy city, Prose would go.

 

[Captain Flynn]

Predatory humanoid species have some advantages to their non sentient counterparts. Prehansile fingers and sophisticated languages immediately come to mind, but there is a much more subtle advantage, however, which tends to be overlooked. I like to call it "social camouflage".

In a crowd, one humanoid can blend into a group almost effortlessly. If the species is not known for unprovoked violence, it can travel almost anywhere in society with complete anonymity. This is especially seen on the core worlds, where literally any race in the galaxy can be found. In such an environment as Coruscant, those who do not wish to be seen can practically become invisible.

As Prose A drifted hungrily through the spaceport, two pairs of gleaming yellow eyes searched fervently for him, equally hungry to catch just a glimpse of the maimed young man. Seated on a bench in the station, their owner was endeavoring to restrain violent coughs which were interpreted by those around him as signs of illness. Needless to say, he had the bench to himself. He wore a large brown overcoat which completely concealed his torso and upper legs. Prickly toes protruded from his boots, wriggling and scraping the ground in anticipation. On his head he wore his faithful wide-brimmed hat.

"Lessee here....will be on ship 02904....loss of pigmentation in one eye, long hair, half shaved....this one should be an easy mark!" the bounty hunter Madd Dogg thought, reviewing all he knew of his target. Which was almost nothing. No history or background, no criminal record, not even a proper name. No reason for capturing him, even, save a large fist-full of the Collector's credits. This should have been of some concern. Anyone with a conscience might have refused this job. In this profession, one is not allowed the luxury of a conscience. A poor bounty hunter you would be indeed if you let go every person who merited the title "Innocent". A good portion of the bounties posted were on good people who had, unfortunately, upset the bad ones. To keep things professional, Madd Dogg had learned to keep questions to a minimum.

And yet he searched the warehouse. He broke with his time old tradition of "no questions asked". In spite of himself, of years of training and experience that have made him literally amongst the best in the business, he could not resist the urge to poke his nose where it didn't belong. This whole enterprise has been unusually suspicious, and the motives behind it are unclear. And it nags at him, bothers him, worries him, even! It stirs the depths of his dormant conscience, like a breath of life to rejuvenate that which has been drowned out. And as it slowly gains awareness, it pangs and throbs, spluttering as it spits out the bile that subdued it. But nevermind. He'll sedate it; make this guilt of his leave him.

An annoying crackle filled the Clantaani's long, pointed ears driving him out of these contemplations, and he jammed his commlink further into his cranium with a clawed finger. Dang, that's shrill! Darn Collector should've had these made a little better, aye? Wonder what's interferin' with it.... he seethed in his hoary head. Another trick he'd learned: keep your thoughts to yourself; you never know who might be listening.

Now according to the Collecter, the target was aboard shuttle 02904. Madd Dogg had taken up position accordingly, picking a bench on the level above so that he might be able to see the mangled lad as he exited. He felt slightly revolted, as his perch happened to be in front of a dingy diner hosted by a rather miserly Toydarian who practically dragged unwilling costumers off of the walkways.

Speak of the devil.... he internally groaned as the Toydarian meandered clumsily through the air towards him.

"Hey! You sir! You're looking a bit boney, aye! You should get somamy famous soup down ya! Best soup this side ah Coruscant!"

"Shoo fly. Don't bother me."

"Ahaha, cheeky clever!" the Toydarian chortled half-heartedly. "But seriously, let me getaya sometin to warm ya innards, okay?"

The Clantaani slipped the fold of his coat back, revealing a sleek LL-30 blaster pistol holstered at his hip. "Buzz off, bug!" the bounty hunter snarled. Utterly disarmed at the sight of the weapon, the Toydarian recoiled in terror, flying straight into the door frame of his diner and crumpling in a heap upon the ground. Rising up in a daze, he fluttered indoors, trembling from his bald little dome to his weedy webbed feet.

Chuckling to himself, Madd Dogg's clawed hand casually scratched behind his right ear, massaging it as he pressed the commlink that was housed within. "Karan," he growled, "any visuals?"

 

[Ehrlich Mar]

"Sir, ship 02904 has just landed."
"Good. Find him; I want eyes and ears on him at all times."
"Mr. Ernshore, we can't get eyes on block 3215 without alerting Coruscant security! I can't find a way around it, it's-"
"Hush, that man, it's fine! You hear me? Don't panic. Listen, go out back, smoke something, and take a breather for five minutes; come back at it with a fresh mind. Go on now; here, have one of mine.
"Thanks sir, I appreciate it."
"Don't mention it lad."

Several minutes later...

"*Augh!*" *Clunk*
"Find me someone who can."

 

[Gaja]

"Got him."

A gloved hand held on to a small commlink device, returning it to a belt as blue eyes focused on a particular Rodian, Hulas was his name, as the short alien seemed to observe some tourists, minding his own business. That was what any normal person would think, but a certain blond haired human was on to him. After a bit of time he finally tracked the little bug eyed alien down, but it wasn't just about tracking him down and grabbing him by the neck. It was about stealth and finesse, he needed to follow the little guy back to his hideout in order to find a certain shipment that quite conveniently went missing.

Beil Donara, has asked for assistance in this matter, for he suspected that the little Rodian was stealing from him. But he had no proof, as every time a shipment of something went missing, who was on duty that night? You got it, Hulas the Rodian! So he didn't just yet fire the guy, attempting a desperate effort to recover his goods before he has to declare bankruptcy because of the little thief, but before anything could be done he needed help. And the Jedi council sent out one of the most promising Jedi they had available on Coruscant.

Padawan Guhoo Armstrong, a very capable young man, one proven in battle and one showing promise and skill with a blade and the force beyond his years. Wearing a brown trench coat over his combat gear the well built young man leaned against a wall, letting the force guide him as he stayed a safe distance away from Hulas. His two lightsabers were hidden from plain sight, but were ready to be drawn at a moments notice, for Guhoo was well aware that he might just end up in another situation where guns would be involved.

Taking one casual look over at Hulas the Jedi picked up that his target again started moving, so he too moved after him, paying attention to not provoke him in any way as not to scare him. He was about to find out if this guy really was the thief or if something else was at hand here, he also had the police and port authorities on speed-dial, if this thing really turned out messy. Though he hoped that it wouldn't, but just in case it did go south, again, he made sure he was armed and ready.

 

[The Shiznit]

Coruscant. The place of his birth, the place of his rise, and ultimately the place of his fall. They often say that criminals return to the scene of the crime to witness the chaos, destruction, and pain that they caused. This became a fact for the young Nikto as he made his return to the place of his crimes. Rhat had killed many people on this planet down in the underground parts of the city years ago, and he had later broken out of the prison located on the planet. For his actions Rhat was now a wanted criminal here and he had to be careful to not be spotted by the Coruscant police while he visited his old home. Most in his position would be scared or paranoid of being spotted and sent back to jail but Rhat felt neither. He was once a king of this planet's underground and he had only gotten stronger since his absence from the planet. In addition to that Nikto's looked similar and as long as he kept most of his face hidden and caused little to no trouble the police would not catch on to him and he could re-visit old places and see how Coruscant life had progressed with his absence.

Pulling the Black Vulcan into port Rhat began preparing to leave his ship. Pulling the hood on his black robes up Rhat turned himself into one of the shady looking citizens that were all over Coruscant. Weapons would be a lot harder to conceal than his identity. His two blaster pistols located on the outside of the bottom portion of his leg were always concealed so his worries shifted directly to the lightsabers. He now had three to choose from two single bladed, and a new double-bladed one which made his decision all the more harder. Rhat had taken the double-bladed lightsaber because he wanted to practice with it and use it in actual combat but it's size, as well as the fact that he might not have to use a lightsaber here, made the double bladed lightsaber a bad choice to bring. Rhat went with the two lightsabers he always used, a slight disappointment to the Nikto, but a smart move. Placing both lightsabers within his robes Rhat made sure the would not be able to be seen by anyone as he walked on the Galatic Alliance capital. Deciding to leave his grenades on the ship Rhat headed for the exit, and the start of his journey on the bustling city.

Stepping out of the ship Rhat was bombarded by many sights, lights and smells. Lights from various buildings soon off in the distance, tall skyscapers pierced the sky in an attempted to reach the heavens, and the smell of metal, body odor, and fuel reeked the air around the young Nikto. Launching himself into the crowd Rhat heading in a random direction not sure what he was looking for at the moment. Maybe a familiar sign, or a direction to the cities Underground? It would be hard for him to find his way being unable to read the many signs written in basic. Rhat would be sure to learn how to read basic at least a little bit when he returned back to Imperium space, but for now he was stuck listening in on others conversations hoping to hear anything about directions to somewhere he could go. The shouting of vendors, the bustling talk of aliens, and the announcements of the comm system were all being interpreted by Rhat when they spoke in a language he knew. It would be hard to find his way around, but Rhat was determined and he would make it to the Underground eventually.

 

[Acedia]

His breath was shortened, his empty stomach unable to expand and his shoulders tight from the strange position he'd slept in for who knows how long. Now, with strange shoulders pressing up against him, he just wanted to shove them away and stretch. He remembered the weapon underneath his arm, however. It would not be smart of raise his arms up and show off that thing. So instead, he just cracked his neck to one side and then the other; stepping with every other foot in the crowd.

The terminal was large. He had no idea where he was going, yet didn't even care to think about the ramifications of getting lost. He was one more for the whim, and now for this aching hunger. Prose yawned with a face of discomfort. The damned low sun was so bright, and right in his eyes. He started winking his good eye shut and comparing the brownish grays to the color scheme of the real, making his way past the open levels and widening spaces that made directions more specific to certain streets into the city. He was happy to come under more of a structure that partially blocked out the light into focused rays that he could avoid. But then he smelt it.

Prose raised his nose up high, as his long hair fell back away from that concealed white eye. He could smell some kind of cooking meat. Oh-ho-ho, that smelled amazing. Prose wedged his hands out between the bodies and forged himself a new path towards the space port shops. He moved aggressively, until reaching the small kebab shack. He grinned wide, his mouth watering. "Yes"

But then he realized how much of a vault this place was. It had bars, it was completely embedded into the wall between two other gift and souvenir shops, and he couldn't see a way around to the back anywhere. He contemplated shoving a gun in there face and ordering some; no, that wouldn't work. Then he wondered if begging might gain him some charity; maybe, doubtful. Prose blew a sigh of dismay out his puffed lips, and then moved on. Maybe he would have a better chance with places in the city.

 

[Captain Flynn]

As the crowds shuffled mindlessly out of the hangars, the Clantaani above began to dissect them with his eyes. There! Long hair! No....not half shaved. Discolored eyes!!! Ah, but they are colored none the less. Partially shaved head! In a mohawk, the inconsiderate brute.

His eye balls flickered to and fro in their sockets, darting to features he hoped to recognize in his quarry. Faster and faster they glanced, rocketing about in his head like pinballs. After a furious 30 seconds, he clamped his lids tightly shut, massaging their wrinkled coverings and groaning in weariness. "I feel like I've strained a cornia...."

THERE! As he opened his eyes, a half mane of russet hair caught their ferocious attention.

He swung about, keeping an eager stride as he followed the bouncing head of hair. It moved along with the crowd, stopping before a shop of some kind before turning aside again.

With a nimble leap, he cleared a barrier and began to descend down a ramp leading to the first level. He thumbed a trigger in his hand, remaining ever alert for the jedi his employer so thoughtfully warned him about. As he joined the thronging masses, the head he so keenly pursued sank into the sea of pedestrians, becoming lost to view. "DANGIT!" Madd Dogg hissed, looking about wildly. He pushed through oncoming traffic relentlessly. I will find you. You can't hide forever.

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

There he was! Akira surged forward towards him, smiling. There was resistance though, as if the darkness she ran through was made of water. But she was so close. She could see his broad shoulders, his strong arms, his tattoos, and the bracelet of akul teeth that he dutifully wore coiled around his wrist. She just wanted to get to him. She reached out to touch him. The name 'Elliot' was on her lips, but her voice was still. She just wanted to be near him, to call his name and have him turn to meet her. But a hand touched her on the shoulder, gently holding her back. She tried to brush it off, to keep advancing.

"Akira."

The Togruta stopped and froze. She recognized that voice. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes for a moment, before turning to greet the apparition. "Huron."

A kindly, yet stern old human stood behind her. His hair and beard were long and white, and his face and hands wizened by years of experience. He was clad as a monk, in long brown robes. They were cut to provide freedom of movement, yet woven from an abrasive fiber. Akira sighed. If Huron was appearing to her, the news was dire.

"Elliot doesn't need you right now," he said solemnly. The words cut deeply, causing her to cringe. She looked over shoulder, and could see her precious friend walking away from her. "Stop that!" the old Jedi said scornfully, giving her a shake. His face softened slightly, for her sake she assumed. "You will find him soon, I promise. There is someone else who needs you right now. He's in danger, and needs your protection." The old man shifted to the side, and over his shoulder Akira could see the back of another figure. His coat was long and dirty, and he had a strange stick bound in soiled white cloth on his back. His gray scarf fluttered in a breeze the Akira could not feel. His head was partially shaved, but the other half had a long mane of russet hair that was also caught by the unfelt wind. "They're hunting him."

"Who is?" Akira asked, feeling a knot form in the pit of her stomach as she squinted up at the sickly yellow light glowing just above her. She felt Huron's grip on her arm tighten significantly, and he laughed menacingly. Her blood turned icy as her gaze returned to the figure immediately before her. She recoiled as she looked at that face. Not Huron. A manic grin that spoke of malicious intent, and the joy found in those intentions. Akira stumbled, and tried to scream as she fell back. She saw a glint of steel...

She jumped awake, shivering in a cold sweat. Panting, she quickly pushed herself to her knees and looked around. "Prose?" she whispered. He had been asleep right beside her. But he was gone now. He had taken everything he'd had with him. She got up and squinted against the half-light from the partially open cargo bay door. "Prose?" she whispered again, a little louder than before, as she looked around frantically. Gone.

Akira hopped down out of the ship and set off at a run. She trusted her instincts to guide her. The Togruta took no care for social propriety, shoving and elbowing people out of her way when she could not simply slip through the crowd. Down this avenue, then that side street, then around that corner... "Prose!" Akira called out as loud as she could, standing on the tips of her toes to try to see over the surging crowd. But her voice was just another sound in the chaos. "Prose!" she shouted again. Where was he? How long ago had he wandered off?

There! She was certain she saw his head bobbing through the crowd, but she lost it almost instantly. Why couldn't he be tall, like the people surging around them? Why did he have to be short? Akira shook it off as she pushed in the direction she had seen him. Perhaps there was a better way to see it. If she was having a hard time finding him, then his hunters probably were too. She couldn't let that maniac have him again. She had felt his pains, and seen those horrors locked deep in Prose's mind. She could not allow that to happen to him a second time.

 

[Acedia]

Prose looked up again, marveling at the archways he passed under. As he was continually swept along, he noticed the multiplying shops all around. There was a droid spa down the way, pottery and easily fake looking artifacts. He did not know why it irked him so that the itmes were so clearly forged in their back lot, and he did not know how he knew it; which only wriggled into his mind further. But his pleading stomach put him back on task easily enough. "Yeah, yeah. All right. Shut it."

Awe! Then there it was. The smells. The smells of mouth watering, lip licking, stomach grinding good food. There was fresh baking bread in one direction, dried and salted strips of beef hanging out in the other, and everything in between. Though he had already made his decision. But when he swung his arm to start walking, his cuff caught a button on the front of his coat. It jerked his wrist back as it stunted the swing, and the button plucked free and fell to the ground. He carried with himself a growing mentality that everything he had on him must remain the way it was should he soon discover their meaning. So his torso collapsed over as he bent down to retrieve the button, unwittingly sticking the end of his concealed weapon in his coat out behind him as it poked a stranger in the leg. "Hey! Watch it!"

"Hmm?" Prose lifted back up and turned back towards the stranger with an ignorant look. Twisting his head back around towards his next meal with a shrug, he had no idea what the guy was griping about. He lifted up the large flap on his coat and dropped the button down into the outside pocket, and took a left at the intersection. He decided to double back a little and make a stealthy pass by the shop to see if he could get away with swiping one of the hanging strips. The current of the crowd wasn't exactly ideal for making a getaway, people clearly not grasping the concept of passing on one side. But he could hold himself back long enough to make a couple passes.

 

[Captain Flynn]

"S'cuse me! Pardon me! Move it already!" the bounty hunter spat hurriedly at passerby, slipping through their ranks as swiftly as he was able. His head whipped curtly from side to side, but his target remained most elusive.

Nevertheless, he remained calm and undeterred. To panic and break cover when the target was blissfully unaware of his plight would be an amateur mistake. He was here with him somewhere; he simply had to be found.

Thinking fast, he finally pressed the mysterious trigger he fondled so protectively in his clenched fist. High above in the rafters of the spaceport, a small probe droid peeped its shiny black dome out from its place of concealment, lending its glossy eye to the search for Prose A. A garbled smattering of guttural droid speak began to emerge from the trigger box as the probe faithfully scanned crowd beneath it.

He resumed his patrol along the streets, maintaining an even pace. He hadn't taken more than ten steps before a shrill squeal burst unceremoniously from control box. A lifeless voice emerged somewhat more discreetly, saying, "Target acquired. Face seven-O-Clock, then head eight meters North East."

Sure enough, as Madd Dogg followed the little droids instructions, a half head of russet hair flickered in and out of view as pedestrians obscured his profile. One of his eyes was eerily devoid of color. The boy looked confused as a rather angry stranger addressed him in aggressive tones. Within a moment he had closed the distance, pointing his arms ahead of him to part the sea of bodies between him and his quarry.

The boy was indeed scarred. That eye in particular wrecked the lad's image, peering out creepily at its surroundings. His musings about the crippled eye were cut short, as his prey soon turned about and began to walk away, uninterested in what the frustrated pedestrian had to say. He quickly pursued, keeping a about a meter's distance from him.

Make a plan.... His face grew very stern as he formulated his strategy, eyes narrowing in concentration, mustache dancing about as it twitched on his upper lip. One might have seen smoke spew from his ears if he kept it up any longer, but he quickly settled on a course of action put it into effect.

Stepping close to his target, he shoved into him hard from behind, crying out in alarm as he did so. "Watch out!"

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

Danger. Every flag in Akira's mind was signalling danger. She was panting quickly, frantically fighting through the crowd to get to Prose before anyone else did. She was elbowing people out of her way viciously, paying no heed to manners. She needed to get to him. She had to find Prose. The Togruta lowered her mental barriers, and was almost overwhelmed instantly. She gritted her teeth as she withstood the torrent of surging thoughts and emotions that corresponded tenfold to the despondent crowd physically pressing in on her. But through these minds, she drifted, and then found Prose's mind shining like a beacon.

Wary of the young man's damaged mind, she attempted to touch only the very surface of his thoughts so as to avoid being sucked into another of his fractured memories. It was bad enough the first time that had happened, but the second time was even worse. Prose! Wait for me! she pressed urgently. Grave danger! The man... the man with the smile...

Akira felt someone collide with her head-on, knocking her off her feet and to the ground. She gasped as the air was violently knocked out of her lungs. Her body burned as she attempted to gulp in air like a beached fish. By the time her head cleared enough to see, and her lungs had a bit of oxygen in them, she saw the half-head of coppery hair and asymmetrical eyes just in front of her own face. "Prose," she groaned between fits of coughing, "Prose... please... my lekku... get off! It hurts!" Her eyes watered. The sensitive organs really could be a nuisance, especially when they were as long as hers. As relieved as she was to find him, right now Prose's elbow was causing the Togruta untold amounts of pain and suffering.

 

[Kant]

Karan had just arrived on the planet and wondered what he was to do next. He needed to make contact with Dogg, and with Mar quickly. His shipped touched ground as he spoke into the headpiece Mar had given him. "okay, I'm here, Dogg, Mar, where are you guys and where is the target? Do we have any sort of plan yet?" As he waited for the reply he got out of his ship and gathered his gear. He had his guns, blasters, lightfoil, and pressurized spray container full of chloroform. He also had a few syringes of sedatives which, used in high enough doses, such as a syringe full, would have a hypnotic effect. After he had gathered all of his gear he walked calmly away from the landing area and towards civilization and, mostly likely, his prey. However, until he had further information there was not much he could do, he knew that Dogg had already arrived on the planet and he needed to collaborate with him before making any moves.

 

[Gaja]

It had been about two hours since Guhoo Armstrong shadowed the Rodian Hulas. In the two hours quite a bit has happened, so I'll keep it short. As it turned out the Rodian was indeed the one responsible for the theft of the materials, along with three other fellas of his kind. Guhoo discovered the ware house where they kept the stolen goods and contacted the police before moving in to apprehend the men and recover the materials before they could ship them out. Needles to say that a bit of damage was done to the property, some walls took a bit of damage from the blasters though luckily for him Guhoo took no damage. He was glad for the fact that after it was all set and done, he arrested three of the Rodians, sans Hulas, and didn't really injure any of them. Nothing they couldn't recover from anyway...

Mr. Beil Donara was very glad about the end result, because of it his company wouldn't be ruined but could continue to operate. The middle aged man, as a sign of gratitude, gave Guhoo a little present. Since Guhoo helped recover a massive shipment of armorweave, he felt it was appropriate to give the young blond haired man a coat very similar to the one he wore before, except for the fact that it was made out of armorweave. And another thing he gave him was an armorweave bodysuit, used for protection and in combination with heavy armor. The padawan had the bodysuit and his old coat sent to the Jedi Temple by a messenger droid, while he took a walk around the sector, wearing his new brown armorweave coat, his black bandanna as always on his head.

Before going back to the temple and reporting on the mission Guhoo felt like he should take some time for once and explore Coruscant a little, for he rarely spent any time on this planet because he was often out on missions. Little did he know that Hulas wouldn't attempt to run, but rather get revenge on the Jedi that just cost him 100.000 Credits at the very least. The young human however simply walked the streets of that particular sector, always remaining on edge as he looked for a place to get something to eat. Little did he know who he was about to meet or what was going to happen...

 

[Ehrlich Mar]

As Madd Dogg floundered into his unsuspecting, and the Togruta simultaneously collided with him, the Collector contentedly watched through police surveillance cameras located strategically around the plaza.

"He's run into them both," breathed the gaunt Collector.

"Shall we ping him?" said one of his aids.

"Let it play," said he, leaning forward intently to watch the events unfold.

"Actually, nnnnnng, now that that I think of it, call our Chiss. I want him in striking distance without delay."

Karan, as the Collector well knew, was not terribly far away; certainly not within a distance to be of much help, mind you, but that would not stop his murderous employer from altering the circumstances.

As the Chiss' earpiece crackled to life, that same voice which had confronted him in the warehouse now spoke directly into his ear, invading his head with its slithering.

"I know where you are, Karan, and I know where your target is, and by process of elimination, I know that you are not together. Fix it, bounty hunter; your competition has already found the boy.

"My prize was on Transport 02904, as I told you before. Now he's hit the streets, and he is currently meandering around district 3213. If you are having trouble finding it, ask around; I want him alive, and I want him now, before the Jedi whisks him away."

 

[Kant]

"Aye, aye captain" he spoke softly and sarcastically into the mouthpiece. He hailed a taxi and immediately departed for this district. He was already very close by and should reach there directly. The cab pulled up and Karan jumped into the back. "district 3213 step on it" he directed. The cab whined to a start. With a cough and a cloud of smoke it quickly reached highway speeds as it sped towards the district. Karan didn't bother to look around him. He had other things to worry about at the moment. He double checked his weapons and pulled an old picture of the target out of his pocket. He studied it as they drove along. Then, after a moment, he put the picture back into his pocket and pulled out a detailed map of the city. He scrutinized the map closely looking for the main pathways that would be the easiest to move someone on in the case of a panic situation. He examined the different sewer lines and buildings and considered a number of different options that his target might take. The cab pulled into the district and he quickly departed. A quick glance around showed what appeared to be Madd Dogg about half a block away and began hurrying toward him