Didn't wanna be the Jedi around when a cantina full of folks killed so obviously by a lightsaber blade are found. Shawn knew the honest truth concerning that matter...

...or at least he knew the appearances of it. Something deep inside him was hoping that whatever had triggered Loban to react as he did was something more than a turn to the Darkside...

...at least then he wouldn't have been a complete failure as a Teacher.

His greeny-blues refocused on the two parties he was standing with, somewhat oblivious to the fact his mind had wandered at all, for in fact all those thoughts had come within a second's time. Then he simply turned and began to walk in the direction which Paul had indicated, assuming the others would follow.

"I hope you have a plan to get this information concerning the Hutt corruption...?" he queried over his back as he continued to move forward, "After all, I have a feeling your Hutt pal won't be too happy to see you again..."

[ 03-01-2003 01:33 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shawn Petrolu ]

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I've got a ship that can get us all off-planet, and if you're good I might let you in it, she thought to herself with a little snort. Her hand twitched, aching to grasp her blaster, but she refrained and settled with hooking the thumb of her shooting hand into the belt upon which it was holstered.

She waited a moment or two before the jedi departed the ruins of the cantina before she glided in their wake, immediately taking to whatever shadows she could find in the streets which baked beneath the blazing twin suns overhead, skulking along behind them, keeping herself hidden from the eyes of all others but never letting her own eyes depart from the two forms she was following, nor her senses from the milling throngs which filled the streets of Mos Eisely.

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...a small storage locker with all her credits and a few dancing costumes. Aside from that Kia'ra Roch'ella didn't own anything else, not even a bed, for she usually spent the evenings either dancing or performing the aforementioned services for various club patrons. And Kia'ra knew Grakko's death meant little in regards to a change in her current station; there wasn't anything else she could do, wasn't anywhere else she could go.

And there was always a bar of drunks looking for someone pretty to make them feel big and important, so even if Grakko's palace happened to go down in his death, there were other places of "employment."

She'd get by.

Returning then to the dance floor, Kia'ra began to dance once again, her mind and her heart dulled to that thing which she had to do to survive. Still, a portion of her mind was inquisitive, and something kept sticking in there and waving around curiously.

What was so important about that damned old rusty droid of Grakko's that the smugglers wanted to hide it from the Imperials...?

--------------------

There was regret in his voice, as Paul wished he could've done the honors himself. But the droid would do just fine.

"Speaking of which...I recommend we move faster. The Empire will undoubtedly search his palace."

As he finished, both Jedi quickened their pace, followed closely by Minna Manth. They left the burning remains of Mos Eisle, and after traversing over several rock formations, were in sight of Grakko's home.

The palace was smaller than the usual Hutt's: it still retained a round shape, but was much shorter, only two times taller than the Mos Eisley cantina.

There were no guards; just dead bodies and destroyed speeders. Paul frowned at the carnage and looked down into the sand.

"Stormtroopers definetely," he said, staring at the footprints. "This is the same way they left too...wonder why they didn't use a transport..."

Perhaps whoever the Imperials are fighting haven't given up yet.

--------------------

...or perhaps these guards were already dead when they got here. After all, someone killed Grakko, and I wouldn't jump straight to the Imperials based on the circumstantial evidence, especially not with this other strange attacker."

Shawn quieted for a moment then, frowning himself at the carnage. "Come to think of it, the fatal blows don't look much like something from a blaster..."

Again he paused, looking up from the dead bodies to the palace entrance ahead. "The only way we'll find out anything is if we just go."

With nothing further than that then, Shawn headed towards the palace entrance and into what seemed to be a strangely active entertainment lounge...

...cover up...?

...where they were blinded by lights and color...

...and met with some curious stares, both from smugglers and the dancing girls in the room. Shawn turned to Paul, arching an eyebrow, keenly aware that he didn't see one droid of any kind in the main room.

He shot a look to the other Jedi that read What next? and waited.

[ 03-02-2003 07:43 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shawn Petrolu ]

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Gradually his snores came to an end, and their was all near silence in the cockpit, only the sound of his body rustling against the leather seat broke the hush. It was a true serene scene, no matter how much he was uncomfortable with his dwelling in an Imperial ship. He had never come to accustom such dark things, but after some travel he knew complaining wouldn't solve anything, other than drill away at his every-lasting patience in the expedition.

Beep!

It was a sudden sound roaring like acklay through the cockpit, as the heated red light flashed repeatidally along with it. The simple annoyance of the actions awoke him, with the sound putting the annoyance up a level to a small temper.

"Just when I was--", Lumbia groggily said, cutting himself, when activating the holomessage that had clicked off the alarm sequence. Leaning back in the leather chair, he relaxed as he took in the blue, minimized man who had began to talk. He was of the Quarren species and pretty tall, with smuggler garments, made to conceal weaponary or items.

"Hello, Lumbia, nice doing buisness with you." The Quarren began, his waving to gesture a welcome to the buisness of the man.

"So, you want the Illum crystal, well I have managed to attain it, as well as the others items you asked me to." The smuggler attired man said, his tone becoming more assertive.

"Now you will come to Tattonie!." The holo diminished, but not before the commandive words sent a shockwave in the Force, with the Jedi jumping back as the future actions transpired in his head.

Then it was an eery silence, followed by the raging screams of the control panel, the hyperspeed being deactivated, and reactived to go toward Tattonie. It was placed on a certian coordinate on the planet, and with every action Lumbia tried, he couldn't deactivate or override the hacking assault.

I shouldn't have opened that holomessage. The Jedi though, remembering the abnormal sensation he had when he placed his finger on the switch to get the message.

It was only a few minutes later when the ship exited hyperspace, entering a mode of auto-pilot as it came crashing down onto the sands of Tattonie. Banging against the ground, the explosion was of horrific stature. A body flying fleeing from the fire created with a visable green aura placed about him.

Landing down with a sense of ease, the silhouette figure ventured forward toward it. Heading into the active haven, he searched for what had sent him falling into the peril of the Tattonie day.
5 minutes after...

The brown haired man glanced over his shoulder as he walked through the crowd, watching the door open to show three figures, shadowed by the day.

"Hmm...Maybe those are the people.." He thought aloud, his eyes squinting to register their features.

[ 03-04-2003 12:27 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by LumbiaSith ]

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"I..."

Was not expecting this!

He looked to the other Jedi. "This doesn't make sense. Grakko's dead...this shouldn't..."

"HEY!" the shout cut him off. One of the smugglers, a heavy sort with scars criss-crossing his face, stepped towards the Jedi, waving a blaster around like a toy.

"Ain't ye Paul Arrakeen?" he asked. Behind him, his lackeys flocked together with their weapons drawn.

The Jedi sighed and gave a slight nod with his head. "Yes."

"There be a price on ye head..."

That damn Hutt!

Paul felt a tinge of anger towards the creature, but it quickly backed down as realization came.

"Grakko's dead. That makes the bounty obsolete." Paul told them. The smuggler simply chuckled and scratched at one of his cuts.

"Ain't from the Hutt. The Forellian family's been gunnin' after ye ever since ye whacked their father..."

Paul frowned and glanced at Shawn slightly. "It was...one of Grakko's jobs he sent me on..."

And damn ashamed of it too.

Suddenly, the group started advancing on them. Paul backed up, and looked to Shawn.

"Hope your good with a lightsaber...thats the only weapon both of us got."

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It was a cool breeze, as soft and loving as the tones of the Sullustian playing in the background, yet feeled with the aura of danger with its intertwining with the hot rays of the blazing sun.

His body not a 100 percent from the previous altercation with his ship, he relied on the ability of the force. Throwing his hand forward, he pushed the smuggler-looking being backward, his scarred body being thrown against the floor. It wasn't something that would injure him physically, but it would make a larger gap between the men who had entered, as well as hurt the smuggler's ego.

"Everyone move back, this is not a time for a squabble or bickering. Just go about your buisness.." The unoffical Jedi commanded in a soft, but strong tone. Looking about him, he watched as they responded, some doing as he had asked, while the others stubbornly rebelled to the plead.

Lumbia sighed, his hand being ran over his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, staring at 3 being crew that had came in. Smiling at them, as his composure became more calm, he turned himself. The curly haired warrior began, his posture becoming more casual, though his force sensitivy was intuned on the actions behind him.

"So, are you guys injured or anything that I should worry about, or you should?"

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There she made herself into a blotch against the dark... but a blotch with a blaster in hand which was aimed with deadly accuracy. Indeed, she had almost squeezed off a shot... almost... when the new jedi came romping in to join the fray, sending the lout flying backwards with a simple force shove.

Minna didn't relax her stance one iota. She merely hunkered more closely against the stone, her blaster aimed to cover should it be necessary, and watched as the lout's fellows milled about amongst themselves, growling like rancors with sour stomachs. It was as if they were wanting to rip the jedi into tiny pieces, but being aware that there were not just one but three force users present gave them momentary pause, as if to regroup their stategy.

Well, when they finally come to an agreement amongst themselves, I'm gonna be ready for them.... Minna told herself, placing her finger against the hair's trigger and sighting down the barrel, lining up for a lethal shot right between a particularly ugly slimebag's red-rimmed eyes.

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Jedi? Here in Grakko's Palace, of all places...?

She shot an indigo-eyed look in the direction of those three jedi. The short one and the dark-haired one weren't familiar...

...but Arrakeen she recognized. After all, she'd been chained to Grakko's side when he'd done his dealings with the Hutt. The Jedi hadn't so much as batted an eyelash in her direction...

...but then the truth of the matter was that Jedi were like everybody else. They cared for their own and for the common person, but didn't give a damn about a worthless slave girl.

Kiara jerked herself from that slight diversion, focusing her indigo eyes upon the scene once more, curiosity filling her as the smugglers and the jedi stood, each waiting for the other to do something.

Kiara frowned again. First these lunatic smugglers hide a rusty old droid from the Imperials...

...and now a trio of Jedi randomly show up on the scene, in a Hutt's Palace of all places?

Arrakeen showing up was one thing. But the fact he'd showed up with these two other guys...

Kiara's indigo eyes grew even more quizzical. Wonder if Grakko's finally being called in for all the smuggling and underworld activity he's done?

Too bad he's dead and probably carried all the information regarding those activities with him to the grave...

[ 03-09-2003 12:34 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Kiara ]

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He'd never seen the guy in his life.

All the while he was reaching out with the Force and assessing his surroundings, keenly aware of the waves of regret washing from Paul...

...as well as of the pair of extremely curious eyes upon them. Granted, there were people and creatures gaping at them from all corners...

...but these eyes...

Shawn finally turned to Arrakeen, the look in his eye all but actually saying, If you've got a Plan B, I'd love to see it. If not, start making one.

Then he turned once more and surveyed the small crowd of smugglers and Palace patrons. That's when he finally identified the being who had been staring at them so inquisitively.

He shot another look to Paul. Recognize that Twi'lek? he thought towards him, shifting his eyes to the blue-skinned female for emphasis once more before returning them to Paul again.

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She's one of Grakko's slaves... he thought, directing it to Shawn. I don't know her personally.

Paul noticed the group of smugglers clustered around her, and an idea struck him. Grakko would definitely hide the droid as much as possible from the eyes of others...but he always kept his personal slaves close to him. What if one of these slaves knew where the droid was?

If he wasn't determined to keep his composure, the Jedi would have smacked himself in the forehead. Quickly, he came up with a plan...

Stay here... he thought-spoke to Shawn, knowing to keep his plan as secret as possible. And watch my back. As for him... Paul looked at the other Jedi, whose presence certainly caused several of the patrons to back off.

He'll come with me.

The Jedi began to walk forward, and motioned with his hand for the newcomer to follow. He quickly moved up beside Paul as the group of smugglers dispersed in front of them.

They've already seen how strong he is...

"By the way, what's you name?" Paul whispered.

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That and the bore of her blaster, which was still zeroed between Ol Ugly's beady red eyes.

Then the parameters altered a bit as after a bit of whispering two of her companions began moving forward toward a simpering Twi'lek, the creeps and louts scattering before them like flies. She snorted with derision, and blinked.

Gotcha covered, although this looks like a piece of cake....

Still a blotch amongst shadows, she remained utterly unseen as her blaster moved mere centimeters... and came to a rock-solid stop centered smack between the Twi'lek's twining lekku.

[ 03-06-2003 09:25 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

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The galaxy had changed much, and Jedi just weren't as pure as they were before the crash of the Republic with the assault of the Imperial. Looking down into his palm which held all the scars of time, he with held a calm deamnor, but trusthworthy, cheerful smile on his face.

"My name is Lumbia Whitfield, if you think I'm a Jedi--I'm not. Just a man trained in the force, trying to make a new path to the Jedi Order, or to rebuild it." The man knew he had revealed alot, it seemed to even suprise him with the widening of his eyes, but refrained from showing too much more of suprisment, or shock. He knew a Jedi wouldn't understand more about themselves, as well around them, and doing what he did wouldn't be respective to the path he was seeking.

A Jedi, hmph--A dream. He thought to himself, staring down at his waist, which once was wrapped it's leather arms around his lightsaber.

"Do you know how I can get a lightsaber?" He asked, putting his tone more secretive & concern, though his voice was in whisper level.

After he spoke, the sudden rustle crept in the mind of Lumbia. He felt the intensity of the one he push grow, the scarred smuggler was angered. The emotions had rised to the peak, his pride being scarred worst than his face, and it was to be used for combat.

The sudden clanking of feet ran through the crowd rapidily, heading toward the two force-sensative warriors. The scarred face figure reached for his E-11 Blaster Rifle, prepared to attack.

Alerting the crowd with a gesture of his swinging arm, they backed out the scene of the attack. His mind wandered though he was so commandive, he wondered mostly how he would deal with it, and the selection varied.

I can't kill him, but how will I stop him without hurting someone in this crowd. He though, knowing that the if he pulled the weapon with the force as he did previously, it would hit someone who was moving out the way.

Dang..

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The thought flicked briefly through her even as she saw the smuggler approaching fast, blaster drawn to attack.

Now, this would never do....

The movement was a mere extention of thought as her own blaster moved a fraction... her finger flinched reflexively as the setting changed... and the lout fell on his face, stunned.

Before anyone could trace that unexpected blaster shot back to its origin, she moved, and soon had positioned herself in yet another shadow above, now aiming at the Twi'lek once again, waiting....

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The sensation was similar to a vibration, but it only accured in the back of his head. Switching his eyes confusedly to the side, beckoned by an unknown command, that came in the globe known as his mind. A frown grew upon his face as he suddenly glanced back to inspect what had happened to the attacker.

The scarred face figured being lay there, motionless on the floor with his temple opened by a laser bolt. The heat ripped through his very skull, leaving his dead.

Someone killed 'em..but who?

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My bad....

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...then proceeded to head in her direction. She wasn’t too surprised when one of the smugglers...

...in fact, the very smuggler who had taken her as his personal “servant” only a little while ago, the smuggler who had spoken so strangely of that old droid...

...ran up to try and stop the Jedi from approaching her, his E-11 blaster aimed for attack. She was suprised, however, when a blaster bolt from nowhere nailed him, and he crumpled to the ground, dead. She, along with several other Palace patrons and inhabitants, glanced in the general direction of the shot, but no one found anything.

What the...?!

Kia’ra redirected her alluring indigo eyes to the Jedi who were still fast approaching once more, her mind spinning.

They want something besides the “services” you provide Kia’ra...unless, of course, they are DARK jedi...

She couldn’t help a small frown at that. This place was getting a touch too strange for her taste. How she missed Rhyloth...

That thought prompted inspiration. Milk this one for all it’s worth, Kia’ra... a little voice whispered. She refocused her indigo eyes upon the Jedi, the small frown on her face shifting to something very sad...

...and it wasn’t much of an effort for Kia’ra to play the part, for in fact it wasn’t much of a part at all. Deep inside, Kia’ra knew it was the truth. ”May I help you?” she whispered softly to them then, batting those seductive indigo eyes...

...and waiting to see just what these jedi wanted from her, a mere slave girl, of all people...

[ 03-09-2003 12:36 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Kiara ]

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Finished answering his question, Paul approached the Twi'lek until he was standing about a few feet away from her and started looking her over. To the bar's patrons (and probably the Jedi) it seemed like he was checking her out, but Paul was just trying to sense any hidden weapons...

If there is a bounty on my head, the last thing I need is a slave girl running a poison needle into my back he thought.

Paul coughed after he was done, and began to detect the Twi'lek's emotions at the situation.

This might be a little tougher than I thought...

He also noticed a small bruise on her left cheek.

Recent too...one of the smugglers must've worked her over...

"Grakko the Hutt kept an interpreter droid with him," Paul finally spoke, keeping a calm and cool tone over his more nervous one when talking to women, "It was very old, rusty, and barely spoke an understandable word. It's practically worthless. However, a few people sitting in chairs of a very powerful group seek this droid, and sent me here to retrieve it."

Paul was careful not to imply what the droid contained as it might spark the interest of other would-be criminals, and he was also careful to not mention the Empire considering he was unsure where the other Force-user's loyalties lie...

He crossed his arms before he continued. "You're one of Grakko's personal slaves. I need to know where that droid is."

[ 03-10-2003 04:51 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Paul Arrakeen ]

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I hope he doesn't think getting information from me is gonna be THAT simple, Kia'ra mused.

Then in a stealthy little move she reached out and took the Jedi's face in one of her hands, pulling it close to her. For all the palace patrons, it simply looked like she was making a pass at him. And that's precisely how she intended it to look.

"It'll cost you," she whispered softly in the Jedi's ear, the ends of her lekku reaching around to tickle the back of his head...

...and covering the movement of her lips should anyone be able to read them. "In exchange for information...my freedom. First and final offer..."

She pulled back a bit then, her lekku falling to his shoulders, her indigo eyes boring into his as she waited to see what he might reply.

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Whitfield's eyebrows arced downward, pressing against his eyes, as a snarl slipped its way upon his lips. Taking a step forward, he pushed her back from the new aquantited Force-user, staring the man dead in the eye.

"You shouldn't give her anything, we shouldn't trust these people in the first place." Lumbia began franatically, but kept his an overtone in a whisper.

Sighing as he took a pause, he glanced over his shoulder at the Twi'lek, his eyes intensified to justify his seperation of the two. He didn't like her, and he didn't like this idea at all.

"If we give her anything we could run into an altercation witht hese thugs around us, who don't seem to enjoy our company in the first place." Lumbia explained, emphasising his statement with a swing of his eyes to expose who was around them once more if Paul had forgotten.

Though he wasn't a Jedi, he knew what a Jedi would do, and he seeked to gain that point. Going into irrational situations wouldn't help any of the three no, it was four, he remembered the person Paul had hinted early. Frowning as he stepped back, releasing his strong grip of Paul's arms, gazing over his shoulder at the girl.

"So, you must think us Jedi are mental intiates, no smarter than Imperial Stormtrooper force." He said, his head motioning in a shake.

She's trying to get something, and she's probably going to trick us into a dangerous situation, while she gets away with what she wants. Lumbia thought, noting every emotion he picked up on her face, as well as through wha the felt in the Force.

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With that she leaned back, something pained flitting through the depths of her eyes as she turned her gaze back to Paul, keenly aware that somewhere in the background, the shorter Jedi...

..his aura calm and completely expressionless...

...stepped up to Lumbia, placed a hand on his shoulder, and shook his head in something approximating disapproval.

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Then he stepped back, folded his arms, and continued to watch everything that happened in the cantina, both with his eyes and with the Force.

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At that, he stepped away from Lumbia and approached the slave girl. And don't worry, Shawn he thought to the other Jedi in an attempt at reassurance, I know what I'm doing...

Paul placed his hands behind his back as he spoke to the Twi'lek. "I have to apologize for my friend's behavior. Understand, these are trying times for the Jedi Order, and we're not as trusting with others as we were before. However, that does not mean we will ignore your plight."

"Some of us have ships that can take you off of Tattooine...but before we do so..." Paul was about to ask about the droid, but decided to try and calm the Twi'lek down a bit. "I would like to know your name."

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She shoved that particular thought to the side, and decided to play along for the moment. "My name is Kia'ra," she answered. "Kia'ra Roch'ella."

She fell silent at that, a small part of her pointing out the fact that usually after she'd divulged this information to a male the next thing that happened resulted in payment, so long as services rendered were acceptable.

Strangely enough, this interaction didn't seem that much different...

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