Mos Eisley

Outside Chalmun's

Jonn watched as the ladies went their own way when Ali Hadrix told them to take some time off. It was clear that the lieutenant had lost hope of Miles coming around, but Jonn begged to differ. In any case he was going to take advantage of this opportunity. "Alright boys, how 'bout I show you the only thing worth something in this kriff-all planet?" He turned to address Sam and Kel Thelmat. "Keep up." Jonn didn't turn to see if they did as he moved down the road, weaving through the crowded streets. A few turns later he stopped in front of a food stall. Jonn pulled his shoufa down once more, now revealing a different face from earlier. Muddy brown hair and dark brown eyes, his features were the epitome of nondescript. He rubbed his hands gleefully before handing a credit chip to the bald human manning the stall, "Three of your Kraytdog specials with everything on it, and make it quick my good man! I'm starving over here!" He spoke to whoever was behind him without looking, "Yeah no, this ain't a free treat. All three 'dogs are for me. The armada's d-fac don't serve anything close to the scrumpiliciousness of these babies!" Patting his stomach he added, "I'm stocking up, yeah?" When the vendor was done he handed the three Kraytdog specials to Jonn along with his cred chip. "Creds well spent." The vendor gave him a wide grin through his bushy beard, Jonn gave him a thumbs up with his free hand while skillfully carrying the 'dogs with the other. He walked over to a nearby bench and proceeded to devour the first Kraytdog. Jonn's face looked near orgasmic as he spoke with a full mouth, "Forsh thash good- mmf!"

Halfway through his second Kraytdog, Jonn was engulfed in shadow as three hulking figures blocked the sun when they stepped in front of him. Jonn paid them no mind and continued to cheerily eat his meal, when all of a sudden a large hand slapped his Kraytdog down which also caused the third Kraytdog on his lap to fall along with it. The owner of the same hand proceeded to stomp on the fallen Kraytdogs. Jonn sucked in air, his expression shocked. His eyes darted from his empty hands to the crushed 'dogs on the ground as if he couldn't comprehend how they got there. "Didn't anyone ever tell you they don't use real Krayt-meat. It's bantha, idiot." Jonn looked up to see a large, pug-faced human male laughing together with his two companions. A green-skinned twi'lek and another, lankier human. The leader of the trio turned back to Jonn, nodding at the holstered verpine shatterpistol on his thigh. "I like your gun. I reckon it'd suit me better than it would you, friend." The three backed up as Jonn rose from the bench, the lanky human and the twi'lek reached for the blasters at their hips but their bulky leader waved them down. "Now, now boys. I don't think our friend here's gonna give us any trouble. Will you?" They snickered. Jonn produced a cigarette and placed it on his lips as he turned to look at the three thugs, assessing them each. "You wanna see a trick?" Jonn said in a nonchalant tone. Before any could respond he made a flourish with his right hand and a lighter appeared, which he used to light his cigarette. The leader scoffed, "Was that supposed to im-" But the twi'lek cut him off, "Hey Rork, ain't that your lighter?" Rork scowled as he patted his pockets down. The lanky human turned to the twi'lek, "Hey that was actually pretty good." Jonn spoke once more, "Wanna see another trick? Watch me light another stick. Catch." Jonn tossed the lighter to the lanky human as he shot Rork in the groin with a hold-out blaster that slid out of his sleeve into his left hand. His right had his shatter-pistol out and trained on the twi'lek. Rork was down on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he reached for his groin, "Kriff frackin' frik, oh Force, why why...!" Jonn kicked him over and placed his boot atop the man's head as he brought his hold-out to cover the lanky human. With their boss sniveling on the ground the two sentients just stared at Jonn. "One of you owes me a Kraytdog and a half. How 'bout we round it up to three, sound fair?"

Out of the quickly dispersing crowd about a dozen sentients armed with various weapons stepped up to surround Jonn, his companions and the three Kraytdog offenders. A short human male dressed in leathers with his dark hair slicked back stepped forward, "S'matter Rork? Looks like you're having some trouble there." His men chuckled. The short man turned to look at Jonn. The two locked stares, silently assessing one another. Out of the corner of his periphery Jonn counted their assailants. One, two, three... eleven, twelve, thir- kriff it. So there were a lot, not including Rork and his two buddies. Jonn mentally cursed. Can't a man and his Kraytdog have a moment's peace to enjoy one another? This isn't gonna end well. For who though? Now that's the question.

Kel hadn't noticed anyone take any particular interest as they left the bar, so he felt safe in picking up his pace to stay with Sylas. Looking around he couldn't see what the man could possibly be talking about. Everything he saw looked the way he had expected first coming here, like the backwash of the galaxy had dried up and coalesced onto a single planet.

"If you say so boss. Just let me be skeptical about that for now."

When they arrived at the food stand, Kel was mildly surprised that the scent of the grilled meat wasn't repulsive like so much of the rest of the market. He found his mouth watering after a second, and ordered his own dog, though without as many condiments as his companions. The taste was good, though perhaps not as good as Sylas had hinted.

As he had ordered Jonn had moved a few meters ahead of Kel, and before he could catch up Sylas had a run in with what appeared to be a few local roughs. It lasted about five seconds by Kels count. Kel hadn't really seen Sylas in action that much, but the man certainly lived up to what Kel had been told. The man was fast, both physically and mentally.

Kel walked up behind Sylas to his left and nodded at the thugs.

"Having a little trouble......"

Kel's words dwindled into silence as he saw the shift in the beings around him. Most of them were walking or even running away, but a few were doing the opposite. These ones were armed and it didn't appear to be for show.

"Ah kriff. I really jinxed us bad now didn't I.

Kel quietly mumbled to himself before activating his earpiece.

Um, guys, we may have a problem with some locals here. Nothing major, you know. Just guns, superior numbers, and a general dislike of us bordering on psychopathic. We might need a hand here in a sec, not quite sure yet.

Kel thought about flipping the frequency on his shield generator, but he wasn't sure he could without looking like he was going for a gun. Yeah, that would be a great idea right about now.

Protect

It is the one thought that surges through Sam’s mind. He makes a point to keep Kaytra’s presence in his mind, literally following her through the Force, whilst accompanying Jonn and Kel where they went. These Kraytdogs sounded fascinating, but considering that they are cooked, it lost some appeal for him, as he likes his meat freshly killed, bloody and raw. Despite his concentrating on Kaytra, and some trouble brewing for her, he almost makes to leave and aid her when his senses of the here and now warns him of another problem brewing, in the form of three hooligans; heavily armed hooligans.

Is there ever any other kind?

Fortunately for Kaytra, it seems Jonn’s esteemed associate, whom they had all come to this forsaken planet for in the first place, is in the same hangar with her where she is now conversing with Aidan after they’d beaten up some slavers. Shifting his focus on Jonn, the man proves to be more than able in handling the matter, but between him, Kel and the many ruffians now showing up, even commandos will be hard-pressed to come out of this unscathed, and they’re supposed to be on a quick shore leave.

So much for that.

Unlike his Flight suit, Sam’s current armour is built more for stealth and high-yield destruction. Hit hard, hit fast, don’t let anybody see what you just did, and get out. Unlike Tanicus, Sam doesn’t fight large numbers in a showy hand-to-hand style. No, he prefers to just place a hole in an enemy’s skull and quickly move on to the next until there is no more. Since he kept his distance from the other two, Sam is not counted by the fifteen assailants yet. He thinks the options through, while he has a moment, since Jonn is keeping them occupied with some sleight of hand, but that’s going to hold for only so long before all the shooting and knifing begins. First thing he does is alert Ali Hadrix, tapping the comlink on his headpiece.

:: Leftenant Hadrix? If you didn’t get Kel’s notification earlier, some ruffians – coincidentally part of a much larger body of individuals – had taken notice of Jonn and stirred up trouble. The interaction has produced a predicament and there are at least fifteen individuals now facing down Jonn and Kel. I’m going to engage the hostiles once the bystanders are clear of the area. :: He taps a button on his left wrist, :: My homing beacon is on. Follow in at your discretion. ::

Finishing his communique with Ali, Sam turns and diverts his strength into prompting all the innocent bystanders to evacuate the immediate area by the Force. Activating his cloaking field, he goes invisible and begins placing some of his sonic mines discreetly on some of the thugs. Slipping through the crowd surrounding Jonn and Kel, he slips them both a pair of audio protectors to protect them from the effects of a sonic mine going off in close proximity with them. He also begins attacking the weaker minded thugs, as well as the leader, entering their heads with the Force, he quietly feeds them doubts about their actions.

<< Dangerous...dangerous... >> He gives the thoughts to them about Jonn and Kel. << Saw the way he took out Rork? He’ll do the same to all of us...in half the time. And that other guy (Kel)...he’s got the eyes of a killer! He’ll kill with just his thoughts! We’ll all die here today...horribly. We should run while we still have a chance. Really, we should. It’s the smart thing to do. These guys aren’t worth all that trouble. And how do we know they ain’t alone? What if there’s more? Wasn’t there like an army of them? A hundred or two hundred skulking around? Oh kriff, we can’t even use hostages, there’s no one here but us! >>

He leaps to the roof of a building, pulls out his verpine sniper rifle and sets himself up. His positioning allows him to shoot, move quickly, aim, and shoot again, so he can take out half the lot before they even have a chance to get at him, and that’s assuming he stays on the roof of this building that long. Opening his comlink to Jonn and Kel, he advises them, :: Just give the word, and those sonic mines I planted on them will go off. Remember to use the protectors I just gave you. ::

Smiling, Sam cannot resist planting one more thought into the leader’s head, feeding the words to him as if it were his own thoughts, << I gotta ask myself something: Do I feel lucky, punk? >>

Ali had already disappeared down a side alley in the general direction of her soldiers when a transmission rang over her earpiece. Leftenant Hadrix? If you didn’t get Kel’s notification earlier, some ruffians – coincidentally part of a much larger body of individuals – had taken notice of Jonn and stirred up trouble. The interaction has produced a predicament and there are at least fifteen individuals now facing down Jonn and Kel. I’m going to engage the hostiles once the bystanders are clear of the area. The Commando paused for a moment. My homing beacon is on. Follow in at your discretion. He concluded. Ali swore out loud, under her breath. Holding the sub-assault rifle tightly beneath her shawl, Ali dipped right and reached for a rickety wooden ladder, pushing herself upwards along it with her feet. She shuffled up the ladder the entire two floors to the roof of the mud structure it was affixed to with rope, pulling herself over the edge and bolting left the moment she found her footing.
Having left the densely packed and narrow rues that made up Mos Eisley, Ali could now see the expanse of the city around her. Tatooine's suns glared at her from above, and a bead of sweat crept down her temple. Quickly she made her way across the rooftops, jumping gaps between buildings, dodging tables, chairs and other obstructions to her passage. No more than fifty meters away, the market place bustled ahead of her. In her way, however, was a housing structure with a third level, though the open windows on both sides left her with a path. Ali bolted ahead and dove headfirst through the opening, one hand stretched out ahead of her to brake her fall, the other still gripping the weapon beneath her shawl. She rolled over one shoulder as she hit the wood floor of the room, then sprang up off the floor and leapt onto the open window sill before her, holding herself steady with one hand for the briefest of moments as she picked her first target before launching herself into the air.
The gauntlet blade in her left wrist cut out over the back of her hand with a schiking sound as Ali soared through the air over one of Sylas's assailants, the gruff-looking human leading the bunch. As Sam's sonic mines blew, Ali came across the thug's left side and with her hand open, burying the blade deep into the man's neck. Her left leg kicked out and wrapped around the man's gut. The action yanked Ali hard to the left, so that she was wrapped around his back, her right leg locking with the ankle of her left as the two began to fall to the ground. Her blade still stuck in his neck, Ali gripped the collar of his tunic, gasping slightly as the man's weight crushed against her chest and they toppled backward into the dusty, sandy ground.
Pushing the thug off of her with her bladed hand, Ali rolled with him and was left straddling the choking man, her sub-assault weapon revealed from its hidden place beneath her shawl. She squeezed the trigger, the weapon kicking slightly with a tap-tap sound as rounds burst forth from the muzzle and shot another one of the thugs. Her training and experience giving her nothing but fluidity, Ali brought the weapon back to her gut and rolled forward off the dead thug, coming up on one knee behind a thick wooden merchant's stall, which had already been abandoned in fear by its owner.
Those thugs that had already recovered from or not been affected by Sam's sonic mines began to shoot Ali's direction, the attention off of Jonn and Kel Thelmat for the moment. The civilians tending to their own errands had already begun to disperse in panic, fleeing to side streets and narrow alleys to avoid the ensuing firefight.

Jonn, Kel! I've got them on me, get to cover and start shooting dammit! Ali snapped, a burst of splintered wood and heat splashing her face as one too many blaster bolts cut close to her cover.

A 3-Z freighter touched down in the spaceport, the ship having seen better days. It was scorched from blaster fire, had a bad paint job covering something on the side that looked like a logo and was at least a hundred years old. It shuddered as it powered down on the pad, Sinistra getting out of the pilot's seat. She called over the intercom for everyone to assemble in the common area, hopefully they would be punctual and ready to get this underway. She had added another stop while she was here, there was someone else who she needed to speak to. Someone who might be able to help her find the one thing she could not. It was a long shot, she knew it but there was a burning drive to keep searching, to find him. An obsession she could keep to herself and still indulge in fascination.

She stopped by her quarters and grabbed her helmet, setting it on the table in the common area as she started to go over the reason for their trip.

"Alright, listen up. I'm here to meet up with a junk trader and weapons smuggler named Sol. Sol deals in parts that are especially hard to come by. Usually they are 1 of kind pieces of technology that no one else has access to. Sol came across something I want, non-working piece of a weapon with the power to kill a star. He sold me the good then refused to deliver nor would he return my dough. One way or another, I am walking out with that piece or the money I paid for it. Sol is cagey. He dislikes forcies, and only knows me as Dru, a dealer in whatever pays the highest bidder. He's heavily armed, extremely paranoid and if he gets a whiff that we're Sith, the game is up. He'll destroy the piece, profits be damned. He's done it to me before. So Stormro, hide your presence, change your clothes and lose the sabers. Or stay here if you can't blend in."