- Joined
- May 15, 2011
- Messages
- 3,349
- Reaction score
- 266
Floating in the blackness of space, on the edge between known and unknown space, a solitary large asteroid wheeled calmly through space. Placed here centuries ago by enterprising crime lords wanting a piece of the profit that came from exploration and research, Epsilon Eridani serves as a refueling station for the many adventurers and scientists that journey into the Unknown Regions, seeking their fortune and fame on the undiscovered and bizarre worlds that exist beyond the Outer Rim. Alongside it's 'legitimate' business as a high-traffic spaceport, Epsilon Eridani serves another purpose. It is a staging ground for a massive smuggling ring, and the asteroid is home to dozens of smugglers and bounty hunters. Spice, sentient beings, and illegal weapons all passed through Epsilon Eridani before making their way Coreward. No one asks questions, and everything is legal. That's how it is out there, beyond the Rim. It's just good business.
It is here that a small research shuttle, The Voyager, begins it's landing sequence, flying sluggishly through the massive tunnel that leads into the interior of the asteroid base. Blaster scouring and gouges cover the sides and rear of the shuttle, as if it had quickly fled from a firefight. Moving past an outbound YT-3400, the research ship began to relay it's name and cargo in text format, explaining that the internal communications were too damaged for the pilot to answer the holotransceiver. After receiving docking permission, the battle-scarred transport flew down into the deeper levels of the asteroid - the more affluent district near the top of the asteroid would never let such an unsightly ship berth at it's docking pads. This shuttle was bound for Level 4, where the poor and desperate gathered, trying to get a slice of the profit. Coming to a shuddering halt above the designated landing pad, the engine made a sharp whining noise just before the repulsors died and the shuttle came crashing down onto the hanger floor. Thick black smoke clouded the main viewport, blocking the cockpit from the security personnel surrounding the crashed ship until a red beam burst through the transparisteel and began to move in a large circle, effectively cutting through the barrier. As the smoke billowed out into the main room, no one noticed the blurred figure leap from the wreckage and swiftly duck into a side corridor and disappear from the hanger.
Just a few seconds later, the shuttle exploded. All logged crew members were listed as deceased in a tragic accident, and that was the end for the crew of the Voyager.... at least on paper. In all likelihood, they were being mauled to death on a small jungle planet, many light-years away. But that was only for one to know.
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Cursing to himself as he silenced his coughing, a large figure crouched within the main ventilation shaft leading into the hanger, waiting for the emergency sirens to cease their ear-rending noise. His features masked by a ratty black cloak caked in mud and dried blood, the creature let out a brief sigh of relief as the sirens stopped and the security forces moved away from the wreckage, leaving it to the maintenance crew to clean up the mess. It had been too long since he had even seen a hint of technology, and he tried not to let his admiration for the sleek ships and crisp displays show as he stealthily removed himself from the hanger and entered the throng of people moving towards what seemed to be the entertainment district of this level. While a small part of him enjoyed his time out of this world, where one could only rely on themselves against the harshness of the environment, it was a relief to be surrounded by cold metal and easily kill-able meat sacks rather than unforgiving razor winds and giant predatory wraiths.
Uncoiling his tail from it's secure position around his waist, the figure shrugged off his ruined cloak, the heavy thud of scaled flesh and metal meeting the floor echoed around the corridor. As the cloak fell away, more of the figure was revealed; ragged but carefully repaired krayt dragon leather armor adorned his athletic, yet thin frame with a bandolier holding two fang hilt lightsabers resting on either side of his hips over top, leading down into similarly worn armor, a kama and greaves covering his waist and legs over durable military-esque pants. The light seemed to be absorbed into the black keratin scales that made up his flesh, visible in between the damaged pieces of armor. Sanguine eyes glittered with amusement as he loomed over the people around him, the silent judgement in them causing more horror than any words could. Smirking fiercely at the nervous faces of the onlookers, attracted by the loud noise, the newly revealed Barabel reveled in the fear he could feel through the force. Unfurling his tail out behind him, allowing the strange metal armor and blade held tightly along his thick whip-like tail to be seen, the reptilian Sith stalked forward through the crowd, inwardly hissing in laughter as they scurried to get out of his way with murmured whispers of 'Darth Vereor' filling the air. Even after being gone for so long, and so far from the Core, his terror inspiring reputation for viciousness and bloodshed proceeded him.
Centering himself within the dark side, Vereor stood in the center of the entertainment district, sending mental feelers out into the different bars and night clubs littering the street. He had only three goals in mind. Food. Information. Transport. Feeling the malicious presence of the Hungry One enter his mind, the barabel let himself be guided towards a small out of the way bar called "The Blue Moon". Moving calmly through the crowd, Vereor placed a hand atop the bar counter, one of his lightsabers clenched between his claws as he glared the stuttering barkeep into silence.
"This one would like three platez of cooked meat, rare, delivered to that table in the corner," pointing at the table in question. It's current occupants, two bounty hunters and a spacer, immediately got up and moved to the other side of the room. "Along with the meat, this one would like two large glassez of ice water. You have five minutez... do not disappoint." His voice was raspy and the words were halting, showcasing his isolation in the jungle; these were the first time he had spoken a word in months.
Ignoring the now panicking barkeep as he ran into the kitchens, the reptilian Sith slid himself quietly into the booth facing the doorway, appearing to ignore the now silent occupants of the bar as he examined a datapad one of the hunters had left behind. Tapping his claw against the screen, he attempting to navigate his way through the menus while waiting for his food. He needed information desperately. Much must have changed in the previous months, and without the right knowledge, he wouldn't be able to prepare. It wasn't enough to the Hungry One that he had finally returned.
He had a war to fight.....