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The gray haired elderly man stood before the Council and pleaded his case. The mountains of Kiast have provided a valuable resource in the Locus Vera grown there; a green legume that produces a blue fruit which can heal the body and mind. The farms in the mountains have been vital to Odan-Urr’s funding but has also provided jobs and a way of life to those working the fields. However, the flow of those funds has begun to dwindle as a band of Quorahi Pirates have been performing raids on the supply lines.
Gui rocked back in his chair, clearly in thought.
“You have my word, Detrik. We’ll put an end to it one way or another. I hope we can find a-” he paused “diplomatic solution, but no one ever knows when dealing with Pirates.”
“Th-thank you!” Detrik slightly bowed to the Council before turning to leave, escorted by a Temple guard.
Gui glanced over to his Proconsul, Wulfram, who wasn’t seated but standing behind his chair with his arms folded onto the back of it as he leaned in.
“Wulf, we need those supply lines to remain active. We rely on them as much as the people living on those farms. Get a team together, let’s see what we can do for them.”
The Proconsul nod his head and snapped his fingers as he passed an Okami Mandalorian lurking in the corner who quickly fell in line behind him.
“The life of a Jedi.” Mused the pink skinned Zeltron, Aura.
“It’s exhausting.” Gui sank into his seat as the others smirked.
“What is that noise?” A human settler spoke, looking up from his livestock long enough to address his wife. Both were hard at work as what sounded like a speeder drew closer and closer.
“I’m not s-” The woman jumped as a Joben T-85 roared by carrying a mass of flesh that appeared far too big for the tiny speederbike’s engine to handle. Slightly modified, it did the trick. Beady black eyes squinted as it traversed the planes, a Dowutin’s eyesight wasn’t the best, but he could smell where he needed to go. Yet he was still a hell of a shot with a proper scope. He saw to it that the 242 rifle on his back was equipped with the best electroscope he could find. Close range was covered by the scattergun holstered on his thigh as if it were a blaster pistol. But because of his size, it wasn’t much different.
Only on Kiast because he was visiting an old friend in Sin Warpa. He laughed to himself everytime he thought of her, head of the Eclipse crew, becoming a Colonel of the Jedi army. But was thanking his lucky stars that the intercepted comm came through when it did, requesting able bodies. He also appreciated the fact that Sin had given him illegal access to the network. He was in dire need of creds because ship fuel wasn’t cheap and while the Jedi were a generous lot. The dock master he had a run in with upon arrival at the Spaceport was not.
“We got a job, Meat,” He spoke to the Massiff draped across the bike, nearly in his lap as one of his massive hands held it down while the other steered. “Headed to the farm.”
The flora gave way as it parted and rustled in the wake of the barreling brute. The thrill of the hunt ever present.
Waza had just returned from the shakedown cruise of the Trenzalore and assumed his standard high orbit around Kiast. Leaving the pilots chair he turned control over to Moto so he could meditate and rest.
Not long into the down time Moto received a call from the Consul office. Moto replied with the response Waza would make contact as soon as he was available.
It was supposed to be a quick delivery run but things turned out quite differently for the young Kushiban. Wenet came to D'Assem to pick up the delivery, but eventually left the planet with a passenger as well. A young Houk named Baka; not the brightest bulb in the box as he was convinced that Wenet was his mother coming to take him home. Baka turned out to be a slave, bought to become a fighter for the arena. After meeting his owner, Wenet felt sorry for the boy and simply couldn’t leave him behind.
Wenet bought his freedom and took him along on her delivery run. She intended to find him a better home but despite telling him over and over that she wasnt his mom, he was thought she was. Wenet might be small but her heart is big, she couldn’t abandon him now after she had saved him from D'Assem.
So after a quick stop at Station 0H40-S0, Wenet decided to return to Kiast, with Baka. ”I have no idea how I’m going to explain this” she said as she took the Dead Parrot out of hyperspace. She glanced to the co pilot’s seat, where the young Houk was playing with a chew toy. ”I’m not even sure what the clan’s policy is about taking in strays” she added. Baka let out a soft growl and looked at Wenet with a toothy smile before continuing playing. ”yeah.. we definitely need do work on communication” Wenet sighed. Baka seemed to understand Galactic Basic but Wenet didn’t understand Houkese. She was lucky to have Hrubý to translate.
As they approached the planet, the comms beeped, there was an message coming from the surface. ”I wonder what they want” she said as she accepted the transmission.
The rumbling engines of a CR25 Transport marked the descent of the Councilor of War and his Lieutenant, Venn Okami, as they approached the Locus Vera farms. The Mandalorians eyed one another beneath their helmets before they rose to their feet against the Transport’s counter-thrust. Wulfram’s eyes turned to the soldiers deployed to secure the farm while the others attempted to broach more, tenable terms in dealing with The Folk who had been pillaging this and several other trade depots in the area.
“Soldiers, our job here is to keep things peaceful. We are supplementing local security while we broach terms with The Quohari who are raiding the farms and trading routes here. We do not need an incident where The Folk think we are bringing war to their doorstep after everything the Vatali and House Sunrider accomplished in the last several years.” Wulfram’s voice commanded as he pulled up a holographic display of the interrupted trade routes.
Venn sighed and tightened the fur cloak around his shoulders before he tapped the Proconsul’s shoulder and kicked the door, moments before it opened as they finished their landing procedure.
“A lot of new blood in this ship. Security detail is as good as any for younglings, isn’t it?” The Okami asked as he shook his head.
“Guess we’ll see,” came Tomora’s voice from behind the Mandalorians. He was flicking at his faulty lighter as he stepped forward, trying to light a cigarette with the casual demeanor of a man who wasn’t seeing this world from the ground for the first time. The lighter finally caught a flame just in time for the wind to blow it out.
“Aw, come on,” he muttered. Tomora glanced up at the towering men in armor next to him for a moment before his attention darted to the grass. He didn’t make a show of it, but this place was beautiful for farmlands.
“…So, how do we do this?” he asked. “We playin’ follow-the-leader, or did I get picked up for this job for more independent work?”
Grim eased up on the throttle as the farm on the horizon drew closer. What was once a blur of green gradually transformed into a sprawling field with unique plants unlike anything he had seen off-world.
Leaning to the left, his speeder made a sharp cut that aimed the nose towards a transport offloading meatbags dressed in Mandalorian armor and the only thought that crossed his mind was ‘Welp, this’ll be interesting.’
The engine backfired as he slowed down which caused people to quickly turn their attention to him. When they did, a few of the farmers gasped as they marveled at his size.
Stepping off of the bike, it lifted atleast a foot as the repulsors were no longer under heavy strain.
Grim stretched his shoulders and his full 7'7 frame could be fully appreciated. Clapping a massive hand against his thigh, his Massiff named Meat jumped down and started spinning in circles. Clearly excited to roam free as it immediately sniffed around the farm.
With seemingly thunderous footsteps, the Dowutin approached the group that had been assembling.
Tomora’s head tilted up toward the even larger behemoth approaching the ship and his bike getting a full rise out of relinquishing the guy’s weight. The unlit cigarette was plucked out of his mouth as he just stared a moment before turning back toward the Proconsul and his bigger counterpart. “…Okay. I know I’m a bothan. Maybe my perspective on size is skewed compared to most of you. But seriously, what do you people eat in this system?”
Wulfram quirked a brow beneath his helmet at Tomora’s question and produced a dataslate from one of the pouches at his hip, swiping through a few menus until he found the weekly dinner planning menu and recipe book he kept prepared for the family.
“Here, let me send you the recipes.” He said with a chuckle as he swiped the pad towards Tomora and sent the information to their personal unit.
If Tomora were to check their own datapad they would find tonights planned menu consisted of a traditional Mirialan Roast, sides, and a specialty prepared sauce, alongside a high-protein vegetarian option, listed as “For Asani”.
Tomora blinked with a fairly blank stare as his datapad went off. “…I… Um… Thanks, but– I meant… Ah, nevermind.” He huffed a sigh and gestured to the dowutin stepping up like he owned the place. “Is tons-of-fun over there with us?”
After receiving the coordinates, Wenet took the Dead Parrot to the surface. She had practiced a couple of times now so landing the GX1 went without any problems. After shutting down the engines she got up and walked to the back to get her gear. This time she came prepared with a wide variety of explosives. “Hrubý, please watch Baka.. don’t let him in the cargo holt” she said to the small droid. “I am no baby sitter” The droid replied clearly annoyed. “you are what I tell you you are. Use the laser pointer, he seems to like that” Wenet said as she walked to the main hatch.
Baka came running down the corridor. “Baka no… no…” but he scooped up Wenet into a hug and rolled with her over the floor. They came to a full stop against the wall.. “He wants to come” Hrubý said. *“uughh… No Baka..stay here until I know it’s ok to come out.. I won’t be long” the Kushiban said as she freed herself from the young Houk’s hug.
Baka looked sad but he listened. He watched as Wenet walked down the ramp to find Wulfram and the rest of the team.
“Greetings” Wenet said as she approached the group that had gathered outside the farms. “I received a message that you could use some help..” she stopped infront of them “something about pirates?” she added with a smirk
Waza sat in the small compartment that was the living quarters of his new ship. When he quieted his mind visions of Wenet in combat with unknown foes dominated his meditation.
Waza returned to the pilots station, Moto relayed the information to him.
“Find the Dead Parrot and take us to Wenet, she could be in trouble.” Waza said as he sat down.
The Trenzalore engine fired to full power hurtling into the atmosphere like a missile. Weapons systems coming online and targeting systems tracking for anything to shoot at. Almost as if the ship itself wanted combat.
Locating the Dead Parrot and another landing craft at a farm The Trenzalore banks hard and rolled altering direction. Still looking for targets the ships systmes only identified friendlies.
“Take us in Moto, then return to low orbit. Looks like not a lot of room to stay on the ground.”
Moto replied in his series of beeps and whistles.
“Yes you can fly over-watch. I’ll keep you posted murder droid.”
As the ship hovered just above the ground Waza walked down the ramp, heading to the Pcon Waza reached out with his senses to get a feel of the situation.
“Greetings Wenet, nice to see you again.” Waza gave his training partner a respectful bow.
“SO hunting bullies? Or does someone think you can talk a bully out of beating you up?”
“If he is, I don’t know by what agency.” The elder Mandalorian replied to the Bothan as he eyed Grim for a moment, scanning the Dowutin and comparing against Odanite Armed Forces and Criminal files.
Venn, to the Councillor’s side, checked his CX-17m and eyed the Dowutin at a distance, before turning towards two inbound ships, clearing to land just beyond their shuttle.
“Sir, two Odanite Vessels, inbound. ‘Dead Parrot’ and ‘Trenzalore’.” The white-clad Mandalorian called before the vessels touched down, then turning to face their respective crew as they disembarked.
Wulfram turned to face them, as well, and nodded once Wenet spoke up.
“Quohari pirates affecting planet-side trading lanes. The Quohari Folk don’t normally engage in off-world flight, so it’s a local issue, disrupting trade lanes between the safe-zones above the dense gas layer.” Wulfram shook his head. “There’s a lot of questions here, definitely, since most of The Folk make their homes in Airships that trudge the gas layer, or in domes deep beneath the gas.”
<@741417155546841158> <@284910376007761925>
When Wenet heard her name she turned and saw Waza approach. “Greetings. You’re just in time”*she said with a grin, *“just about to be briefed on the situation” she added and turned her attention back to Mandolorian who seemed to he in charge.
She listend to what they had to say and at the same time the cogs inside her little head started turning. “Quohari? Can’t say I’m familiar with them” she admitted. In her past life as a smuggler she often dealt with pirates but these? she had never had the pleasure.
“So what’s the plan?, let them come to us and capture them? Or are we going to pay them a visit?” she asked with look in her eyes that said she was ready for a fight.
Waza had never been good at negotiating or diplomatic solutions. He was more of a break glass in case of emergency force.
He was happy to be with Wenet again, he enjoyed her company and her prowess as a warrior.
Listening to Wulf and the Mandolorian talk about a new comer approaching, He looked formidable, but Waza was more interested in his companion. Waza always loved a good dog.
Waza decided to hold comments until we formed a plan to stop the disruption.
Tomora’s head tilted to look around the landing area. Even if he did get a smoke lit, this wind would just knock it out. He crumpled the cigarette in his fingers, then stuffed his hands into his coat pockets between the pistols slung on his harness and belt.
“Looks to me like the soldiers we just dropped off are here to play home defense,” he thought aloud. “If that’s the case, I take it we’re the ones going hunting.” The wind caught the back of his hair and blew it over his face as he looked back to Wulfram expectantly.
“Hunting… that’s music to my ears, tiny meatbag.” Grim wasn’t the most, cordial of beings. But to be referred to in such a way was the closest thing to a term of endearment the Dowutin could muster.
“Just… who are you and what are you doing here… I don’t recall ever seeing yo-” One of the soldiers spoke up.
“Ah, yeh. Names Grim. I’m here for the Credits.”
“This isn’t a Bounty mission, hunter.”
The Dowutin snarled his rather large lips and mentally shook his fist at Sin Warpa, one of Gui Sol’s closest friends. Some would say they were more than that. But Grim knew that if he wanted to, being the ladies man that he claimed to be, he could pluck her from the Kiffar’s arm.
“Well, uh.” The stammering was embarrassing but one thing was certain. If these Odanites chose to allow him to tag along, his skills at picking off long range targets and breaking bones up close and personal were just a small piece of his resume. “Karkin, woman. Since I’m already here…” He waited for an invitation and knew deep down inside that Warpa wanted him to get acquainted with her affiliates whether it be temporary or not.
“I don’t mind a hunt” Wenet replied to Tomora with a smirk and a brow wiggle. Then she turned her attention to the Dowutin. She looked the large male up and down. He reminded her of a Baka and wondered if their spiecies were any similar.
“Hunter ey?” the Kushiban finally spoke up, “we could use their skills if this is going to be a hunt” she added and looked at those who were in charge of this mission. Passive aggressively she folded her arms and waited for instructions. It was obvious she was feeling little impatient, she was ready for action.
Waza’s comm beeped and Moto trilled and beeped excitedly.
“Just come get us, Wenet and you can both man the weapons”
Waza turns to Wolf, “We have a ship coming in refusing to communicate of flash a signal.”
“Wenet would you care to blow up some ship with me? I have better weapons on my new ship than the Skull.”
Wenet wiggled her eye browns and her ears twitch. “Let’s go old man show me this new ship.”
Moto brought the Trenzalore down with the ramp open, Waza and Wenet Jumped on and headed up to the pilots station.
Brining up the shields Waza pointed the ship towards the upper atmosphere and kicked in the engines.
Wulfram turned towards the man as he spoke to him, tilting his helmet down as he responded.
“Intercept, don’t go guns blazing. If they’re here that means SysDef and SeNET cleared them, inbound. If they’re playing it close to the chest, they may be why some of the Quohari are being so aggressive.” He called to the man, before he signalled to one of the soldiers at his side.
“I want logistics to keep an eye on incoming and outgoing air traffic. The Quohari don’t usually take off from the planet, those that do go with other freighters leaving. Look for ships with no transponders or with unique silhouettes.” After speaking to his troops, he approached the Dowutin.
“A bounty hunter, you got sent to the wrong place, tons of fun, but since you’re here I’ll give you a job and I’ll chock your expenses up on the Wildcards budget. You know how this planet works, right? Noxious gas layer, intense pressure on the planet surface where only specialized suits or hardy species can survive. That’s where The Folk live, there or on airships that float between the cities and small landmasses above gas-level.” He paused. “They’re causing the farmers, especially this farm, some hassle, and we need to know why. I don’t want them dead, I want them to stop. The Folk don’t attack unprovoked, without cause, or without justification. If someone is causing them to attack, I want you to bring them to me. If it’s a natural cause, tell me and bring me whoever told you, peaceably.”
<@284910376007761925> <@671903061827911683>
Ofcourse Wenet was ready to blow something up but unfortunately the man in charge told them not to.. immediately her ears droop down in disappointment.. “oh.. ok.. aye sir.” she replied and glanced at Waza who already hopped onto the lowered ramp of the Trenzalore. “Intercept it is” he replied to Wulfram.
With Wenet on board the ramp closed and both made their way to the cockpit. Wenet hopped onto the adjust gunners seat and did a quick systems check.. “everything ready on my end” she eventually said taking the controls in her tiny hands. “no blowing them up… ” she said with exaggerated disappointment, “maybe a little?” she then added with a mischievous smile. “maybe.. just be ready” Waza replied as he took the ship on an intercept course.
Waza piloted his new ship a little wildly, still not used to the maneuverability of this sleeker craft.
“What happened to the Skull?” Wenet asked.
“Oh nothing, this was shiny and new and I wanted to give it a try, has more of everything. I decided if Im traveling I’ll be taking the Skull for the living area and comfort, if I think we could be fighting The Trenzalore is a better ship. I was hoping you would be here. I wanted you on guns the moment I bought her.”
Waza glanced and the read out, we are getting close, “Moto send a hail please?”
Waza’s comment made the Kushiban smile, it gave her confidence. Keeping her eyes on the screen she tightened her grip on the targeting joystick as Moto hailed the incoming vessel.
They waited for a response but there came none. “Can I blow them up?” Wenet asked with a chuckle. “No, not yet.. but a warning shot might make them answer our hail” Waza replied.
He didn’t have to say it twice, Wenet fired a warning shot that went past their port side. But again no reply to their Hail. A moment later the ship flew overhead. “I guess they don’t want to talk” Waza said as she quickly turned the Trenzalore around and followed the ship. “Ok Wenet you may fire…just don’t blow them up.” Waza ordered and Wenet opened fire in an attempt to stop the ship and force them to land..
Waza kicked the ship around on a pursuit and intercept course. “Lock missiles on but don’t fire those yet.” Waza said with a smile. Bring the Trenzalore up above the invasive ship for an angled attack. “Put another warning shot across their bridge. This is the last warning. Moto send that hail again.”