Theed Spaceport

Raven smiled as Adi stood and gave her a hug. It was different than a friendly, quick hug. Every emotion he felt her share with him, he shared back to her in that hug- a bridge between two sentient beings, one asking for help, but also accepting it. She hugged him back in kind.

I've got no where else to be...

The Jedi's eyes widened and her posture stiffened just before the shout. Well there was a sith around. Raven felt the darkness frothing around a large Zabrak earlier. Said Zabrak followed them here, and she recalled Matango treating him as though her were not a threat. She'd seen several people who used darkness as a means to an end, who weren't a threat to her- or those they were around. People like that, like this Zabrak, just needed a bit more caution.
In fact, she'd felt his chill, almost uncomfortable stare toward her as he boarded the ship. Though, what had triggered the startled female on board to suddenly take him for a sith rested outside Raven's reach. She did not know these people, and for an empath, this was unsettling.

Her small brown eyes darted over to E'yame, just as the younger girl ran off after her father. The emotions on board wound themselves tightly before threading out and melting away into some sense of normalcy, well normal for this group. It all happened so quickly, and something told the Jedi master that this matter wasn't hers to settle. Before she rushed into anything lightsabers blazing, she needed to understand these people- very well. After determining all was well, she trotted onto her ship and grabbed a few things before disembarking and locking it up. Flatting down a space port attendant, she gave him a datapad, a credit chip, and simple instructions to Roel on Felucia. She felt the need to brake ties with the Diadem, and she refused to have another one of her ships stranded on some random planet. Her clone commander would gladly come get it.

As she thanked the attendant, she heard a voice call out "Jedi!" And she knew quite well it was directed at her. Turning her small eyes to the ship, she caught a glimpse of Loki in full garb, black hood casting a menacing shadow over half his already opposing facial features.

Yea, she might have called for backup too.

Nevertheless, the small Jedi Master quickly made her way on board the larger ship, and found a quiet corner to rest against the wall and take note of her surroundings. Normally Raven Alora wasn't this quiet, but with emotions this thick in the air, she wanted to get a feel for the waters before she started testing them.

It would be the talk of many years here on Naboo - where peace and tranquility reigned supreme. Indeed, the event would be so infamous, that henceforth the planet would pass legislature reforming their planet's space port security. But that was neither here nor now; for today was the day that the giant arrived. Quite literally actually - the Mandallian Giant, Hurrk, was nigh four meter tall, and had to be stowed in the cargo bay of the passenger ship, on account that no accommodations would fit his behemoth bulk. And what bulk it was. Over twelve feet of rippling green muscle in a humanoid body, with a head that sprouted fins for ears, and a slash of a mouth filled with needle like fangs. Reknown for their militaristic ability and strategic minds, they were one of the few species who had went on head to head with the Mandalorians in all out war, and survived. Indeed, the Mandalorians gained such a respect for the species - a species, who, like the Rigellians, could quite literally pull a vehicle apart with their bare hands, and were thus more than capable foes in battle - that they incorporated numerous Mandallians into their own ranks after the war.

It was such, that it was inconceivable that such a sentient would come to Naboo of all places. Poor peaceful and tranquil Naboo, of all places! But even Naboo had sentients in debt - powerful sentients in debt at that - and Hurrk, a debt collector and enforcer through, shall we say, more "physical" means, had come to collect. So, striding through the spaceport, wearing a purple loin cloth, plastoid upper body armor, and a pair of durasteel knuckles on either hand, the giant made his way towards Security, who, frankly, were already scrambling to unlock the dusty and cobweb ridden weapons cabinet in the back stall. Hurrk, however, only raised a hand, speaking in a guttural base that boomed through the port - addressing the senior Security Officer in charge. "No. I have come to collect. I am the enforcer from DuraCorp." The Giant said slowly, patting the air non-threateningly. Indeed, despite the lumbering look, the nightmarish monster had a keen mind - and, perhaps something along a "Noble and Honorable Warrior" mentality. The guard, an aging human who was graying at the temples (and getting more gray by the second) shakily laughed and waved his men to stand down. "Ha. Hahah! Oh, y-yes. Right. We, uh, didn't imagine someone so...so...so..." The man drifted off, slowly sitting down in his chair, obviously overwhelmed. "So...Big?" Offered Hurrk helpfully, quite used to the reactions. The Security Chief nodded his head slowly, smiling sheepishly. "It is no problem. I incur this reaction often. My identification. And my licenses for my weapons." Continued Hurrk, not missing a beat as he put down a small image caster, which promptly displayed various security codes and three dimensional holo-seals. Looking it over carefully, the Security Chief cleared his throat, apparently regaining his composure. "Ah. Right. You're claiming weapons for open carry under a BHL-DC, a Bounty Hunting License with debt collections specialty. Well...things do appear legal and in order. I can't stop you from leaving the spaceport...however..." The Chief drifted off, unsure of how to proceed, and rather wary at the idea of angering the giant green sentient. Hurrk, however, once more filled in the silence. "However, it is highly unusual for a sentient like myself, let alone an armed sentient, to wander around your planet...so watch my behavior. And if I cause trouble...I should expect trouble in return. You will be watching carefully." Said Hurrk, seemingly reciting the words from memory. The Security Chief chuckled, shaking his head a little. "You, uh, get that a lot do you?" Hurrk turned, lumbering his way through the port. Calling over his shoulder before passing out into the port exterior, his booming timbre shaking the walls, he replied to the chief. "Every time, Officer. Every time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the shadows of one of Naboo's many archways, a rather odd sentient watched the exchange in silence. Dressed in gray, except for a maroon jacket topped with a white fur collar, the golden skinned humanoid was eye catching to say the least. Golden eyed, with hair that was raven black and striped with silver, the sentient quietly hid in the darkness as to not attract more attention than he already did. This didn't stop many sentients from quickly hurrying past him, however. For, while he silently popped very normal looking candies into his mouth from a small bag, the sentient was armed with distinctly NOT normal weapons; concealed well enough by his jacket, the wind ever so often stirred that jacket to the side, revealing micro-grenades at the small of his back, gas pellets, micro-mines in holsters at his sides, a pistol strapped to his thigh, two holsters yet again on his thighs holding sharp and deadly throwing blades, and last but not least, a sword sheathed in its scabbard - appearing to all but the untrained as a stick of maroon bamboo - across his back.

Yes, indeed, the bounty hunter, assassin, mercenary, and general man for hire known as the "Golden Fox" in Basic (partly on account of his golden skin, and partly on account of the sly grin he always had on his face), even now watched as Hurrk the Enforcer made his out of the port. Silently, popping a final candy into his mouth, the Fox hid the bag away into his jacket, and emerged from the shadows. "OI! You. Big, green, and crazy ugly." Cried out the Fox, his voice a flawless Imperial accent. The green Giant turned to seek out the voice, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the far smaller sentient. "Ahh. Jashin Quire. The Golden fox. You would be here on Naboo, stirring up trouble." Hurrk said, with a wide grin on his face. A grin that grew even larger when Jashin flinched at the use of his name. It couldn't be helped, though, as the two knew each other - knew each other rather well, actually. It was a little inevitable, after all, with Hurrk being an enforcer, and Jashin an individual who stopped said enforcers. Professionally one would call him a "Hunt Saboteur", though Jashin admitted to not specializing in the field. Hurrk and Jashin had been at odds for nearly a year now - each somehow avoiding death - but both knowing that, eventually, one of them was going to bite the blaster bolt.

In the background, the Security Chief spoke into his comm, and, discreetly and quietly, officers evacuated the immediate and wider area for about a block (no doubt, a certain Jedi would be told of the altercation). Jashin had made plans ahead of time, out of respect for the Naboo and their peace and quietude. They both, after all, had perfectly legal licenses, documentation, and registered weapons. Legally, the Naboo could do nothing but sit back and watch. However, duking it out in the midst of a populated area on a planet renown for peace was, frankly, in bad taste and bad for business. Hence, Jashin had informed the Security office far ahead of time the impending altercation; especially when he had received word that Hurrk would be the one coming to collect. Hurrk shook his head slowly, in pity for the smaller sentient. "Ah, wily Fox...this time, one of us dies. The bounty is too high. Four million credits. His debt must be in the tens, even hundreds of millions." Jashin rolled the candy in his mouth, the taste of butterscotch filling his senses, savoring the taste for a long moment before replying. "Can't be helped. Mr. Drand hired me for four and a half. Seems like you got the short end of the stick. Not that you can find your stick." Replied Jashin with snark, chewing and sucking on the candy between words. Silently, the two eyed each other. There was a wide space between them, some maybe forty meters. To their left, a row of landspeeders and the rest of the city proper, to their right, the entrance to the east side of the space port - currently, they were situated just outside of the port.

The two would eye each other. Perhaps someone would intervene. Perhaps not. Either way, things were going to get far more complicated for little old Naboo. Far more complicated.

In silence, Giant and Firrerreo stared each other down - but as another humanoid made his way between the two, swathed in traditional robes of a Jedi, the pair raised their collective eyebrows (albeit, the giant lacked said eyebrows) and listened to what the man had to say. Already, the Giant seemed far more confident in the man's presence, and the Firrerreo a great deal more scared. Even now, the Firrerreo had backed up half a step, his eyes darting between the two in obvious unease.
"This...this is your doing Hurrk." Said Jashin flatly, leveling an accusatory finger the Giant's way.
"No. You are mistaken. It does, however, not bode very well for you, Fox." Chided the giant in response. Turning towards the Jedi, the Giant gave a polite bow of the head. "Master Jedi. I am Hurrk, employee of DuraCorp, and primary debt collections officer. I mean you nor no citizen harm. That sentient there, however, is a thief -"
"- I am no thief!" Shouted Jashin, both irritated at being ignored and angered by the statement.
"- as well as a smuggler, profiteer, gambler, confidence man, and other such criminal sort." Continued Hurrk, not missing a beat. "In his defense, he did not begin as such. He belonged to a clan of kinsmen called "The Carta" a clan of bounty hunters and assassins who were strong in the force. Little Jashin there -"
" - I am not little!"
"- is simply the product of a bad roll of the proverbial genetic dice. He was the only one of his clan born without powers. And, unlucky for him, the only one to survive his clans destruction. The clan dies, it can't pay its debts, so DuraCorp, owner of said loans, seizes their property as security. As legally allowed, par the numerous documents I can show you."
"B-Bad roll?" Sputtered Jashin. "I'll show you bad roll!" Spat Jashin angrily, his right hand coming up to grasp the hilt of his sword. However, his hand stayed there, unable to draw the blade, his eyes glued to the Jedi in a rather close approximation to terror.
"Without powers, Jashin, while a rather dangerous sentient, could never measure up to his clansmen's power. He resorted to more deceptive and non-confrontational means to secure his pay as a result. Hence his string of crime. Now, though, in the wake of his clans destruction, he seizes the last of their property - one sword, three million credits in value, assorted weapons and explosives, one million credits in value - and makes attempts to stand before me in defiance, and challenge me to combat. I believe he tries to validate himself as the last member of their proud heritage. However, he cannot escape a single fact, his alias and nickname, "The Golden Fox", given to him for his annoying tendency..."
Jashin's hands flashed to his belt in that moment, then flashed upwards, tossing a pair of orbs into the air. One orb exploding into a cloud of smoke, the other into a scattering of bright flares that burned the eyes. As they cleared away and giant (and presumably Jedi) recovered, Jashin's back could be seen in the distance, the heavily armed sentient running away in terror.
"...His annoying tendency to run away in sheer terror." Finished Hurrk, with a lengthy sigh. "Why do you think they assign ME to collect from him? I'm a thirteen foot giant green monster. I move slow, and could never hit Jashin if I tried. And, as for how I get around...I have a VERY large ship. That and public transport in the cargo bay. You should see me on Coruscant." Hurrk shook his head hopelessly. "Anyway. He is very fast and agile, having installed cybernetics. We don't need the implants back; we'll cope the loss. But please, catch the Fox? I worry he might hurt himself inadvertently."

"Supervision and notation? Normally, yes, but the Golden Fox moves too quickly for this. Besides the fact, when we notify planetary - even local - authorities, he somehow gets wind of it." Hurrk watched as the figure in the distance suddenly doubled over, and shook his head at the long and violent stream of bodily fluid that was expelled as the two walked towards the man. "What...in the galaxy did you do to him?" The question was answered as they drew closer to Jashin, who, even now, was curled up in the fetal position on the ground, his feet kicking him in circles, a long line of vomit spiraling across the ground.
"Malacia!" Spluttered Jashin between retches - his stomach thankfully dry now, no thanks to the copious steak dinner he had the night before.
"Malacia? Never heard of it. But I told you it didn't bode well for you, Fox. And like the Fox, you bit off a little more than you could chew this time..." Replied Hurrk, bending down and searching the Firrerreo. First came the sword, then micro-grenades, micro-mines, gas pellets, throwing razors, throwing needles, a flechette pistol, ammunition. Then gauntlets, phrik by the look of it. All the while, Jashin was paralyzed, occasionally retching while the Giant worked. Indeed, it was only as Hurrk made to make a move to remove Jashin's jacket, that the Firrerreo tried to stop him.
"Hurrk. Wait. Come on. *Retch!* The jacket...it was my fathers. Come on, it can't be worth more than a thousand credits. It's the only thing I've got left. The sword...ok, ok, fine. I know it's worth a lot. But, the jacket?" Said Jashin weakly, gripping the edges of the coat. And it was a luxuriant affair, a maroon jacket topped by a prominent white fur collar. Hurrk, eyeing the Firrerreo, only shrugged in response.
"I don't make the rules, Fox. It's the last thing on the list. Maroon jacket, fur collar, nine hundred credits." Said Hurrk leaning down to disrobe the smaller sentient. He halted, though, as jashin held up a hand, pleadingly, to the Jedi in question.
"You. Jedi. Come on, have mercy. He's got his millions. Let me keep the Jacket."

Hurrk regarded the chip, then the Firrerreo, then the chip once again. Shrugging slightly, he took the offered credits, and straightened, watching as the Jedi did the same - with the sickly looking Jashin in tow. Pocketing the chip, and hoisting the assembled equipment over his massively broad shoulders, Hurrk regarded the pair. "What do I intend to do with him? I've retrieved what I was supposed to. I have no further obligation to deal with him." Hurrk waved at the pair indifferently. "He's a wanted criminal, though, so you might want to take care of that. Dunno. Not my problem." And, with that, the green giant lumbered back into the spaceport, bartered with the largest ship he could find, entered the cargo hold...and flew back to wherever giant green debt collectors come from.

Jashin, meanwhile, hanging onto the Jedi for dear life, retched again. "I...don't like you, Jedi. But thanks. I honestly hope your tunic get dirty. But thanks. But seriously, drop dead. But thanks." Jashin continued to mumble, and ramble, clinging to said Jedi, heaving and retching. Before, eventually, with vomit stained hands, he dipped a hand into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of candies - now smeared with traces of vomit from his dirty hands - and popped one into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully all the while. "Whelp. I'm in a predicament now. Seeing as how I've got a life debt with you now. Candy?" Said Jashin, offering a butterscotch and vomit candy to the jedi.

Jashin made a show of seeming rather weak, hanging on to Gene as he was turned around to be introduced to two...women? The Jedi kept strange company. If the Jedi was observant, no doubt he would feel the lightning fast frisk of a hand, a hand attempting to search pockets or belt for anything loose that it might conceal. Standing a little straighter, Jashin dipped a bow himself - the act itself causing him to retch again. Holding up a finger, Jashin stayed rather still for a long moment or two, not answering anyone, tongue scraping the roof of his mouth, with the distinct look of nausea on his face. "...Mmm. Yes."

Jashin cleared his throat, bowed once more, and, noticing that Gene had never accepted the offered candy, tossed it Gene's way anyway. Straightening, Jashin put on a cordial smile. "Yes. I am Jashin Quire, abdicated third level priest of zanazi, assassin, bounty hunter, and reknown mercenary...supposedly. A pleasure to meet you both, Ra'Mira, Erianna." Jashin seemed proud for a few moments, then deflated somewhat - ending with a snicker and a shake of his head. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out two rods - the only item that the giant had not taken - screwed them together into a staff, and then proceeded to lean heavily on it. "Oh, who am I kidding...I'm no killer. I'm a priest. And no, your...guardian..." Jashin trailed off at that, unsure as to how exactly a Jedi, and a traditionalist as Gene seemed to be, came by said charge and ward respectively. Eventually, though, he simply shrugged and continued. "...Yeah, your guardian. He made me vomit my intestines. I would have preferred his words. Anyway, a pleasure to meet you both. I'll be the guy dying for you. Hopefully not, but I know how these things go." Added Jashin, blandly. "And really, Kenobi? What, you didn't take the Jedi role seriously enough, so you took the name as well? What, not enough starch in your robes?"