Moon of Wasskah The humid and vibrant jungle canopy of Wasskah gives way to a large clearing with seven humanoid-sized cages, each with its own occupant, arranged in a circle with their openings facing inward. Each cage has a faint marking forming the crest of the Trandoshan Game Hunters: a league known to kidnap worthy prey for sport. Within the circle of cages is another circle of seven wooden spears stuck in the ground with the sharp ends facing skyward. The soft cacophony of calls from the jungle wildlife is broken by a small sphere-shaped droid floating in the center of the circle.
“Wake up prey,” a hissing voice emanated from the droid. “Your weapons are in a hunt nessst ssssomewhere in the jungle if you have the sssstrength to take them. The great sssscorekeeper is watching. At dawn the hunt beginsss.” Having delivered its message the droid self-destructs with a loud bang and the nighttime jungle returns to its normal rhythms.
Zae winced and felt groggy as the drug was slowly leaving her system. A low rumbling growled escaped from her throat and she tried to get up. This caused a horrible fire feeling and she tried to inhale and it got worse. Every breath she was taking, it was fire and constantly being stabbed. Her paw went over to her side and winced at the swelling and sensitivity of her rib in the area. Did… she break it again? How?
The droid started to talk but she could barely comprehend what was going on. Weapons? Hunt nest? Scorekeeper? What the-
Her cold blue hues glanced around and her vision was becoming more clear. A cage. Her ears flattened against the base of her skull immediately and she moved to get out. The action caused her to rasped. Now standing, her arm was over her torso and the other freely hanging at her side. She looked at the similar cages and it’s occupants and they were starting to stir too. What… was going on? Her head tilted back and she sniffed the air carefully not to irritated the pain at her side. Humidity. Damp earth. Various bugs and creatures. Her ears were perked and twisted at hearing different sounds. A… jungle? She glanced down at the pieces of the droid and brushed it away with her foot.
“Wake up prey” was that voice speaking to her? She felt groggy, lost, as if in a dream. The cool metal under her lacked its usual comforting companions, the low hum of ships or people, sounds of droids working or engines roaring. This was not familiar territory, or a ship, the voice wasnt one she was familiar with either. Not that there was much to recognize from the sounds of what appeared to be a ‘outside’ around, leaves russtling in the wind or animals scurrying.
She felt for her armor then, but found nothing there, not a delightful spook to wake to.
The loud bang from the droids self destruction after delivering its message interrupted her thoughts shaking her awake much faster than anything else had prior.
Opening her eyes then she realized where she found herself. In a cage.
She felt cold run down her spine, her throat tighten and her heart beat ring in her ears as she practically dashed out of the cage. Or she would have if she didnt feel her body drag behind her mind. She wanted to leap out to throw her body out of that horror. The panic of being in a cage was bad enough without the panic of realizing she was in a jungle without her armor. Both were torture.
She looked around to find more cages, daring to approach them, there were others within stirring. How many she wasnt sure, her eyes seemed to refused to adjust completely. She felt sluggish, considering her body never took this long to wake she was sure shed been sedated. But outside the cage was better than within it. She began touching her ears and body in a slight panic to check for anything on her, a tag, a mark, a collar.
Vreva woke up with a jolt and shuffled her way into a corner of the cage. The iron bars to her back was oddly more comforting than whatever lay outside. Yellow eyes flicked back and forth as she searched for enemies. She was almost disappointed not to find any, assuming the other captives were on her side.
Before Vreva left the cage, she checked herself for injuries. Nothing from what she could tell. Just a slight bump on the head and no memory of how she got here. As she stepped out into the clearing, she saw that others weren’t so lucky.
Vreva made a straight line to the spears and grabbed one for herself. Better to be prepared, especially around those she did not know. She tested the spear’s heft and shrugged before she set about looking over the others from a distance. Curious but cautious. Her gaze kept shifting to the jungle surrounding them.
“Don’t suppose anyone knows where the kriff we are?” Vreva asked as she leaned against her spear.
‘I’ve got to stop finding myself in this situations.’ Hector Von Ricmore thought to himself. Forcing himself to stand, a burst of brain roiled through his body. Clenching his teeth, he stumbled forward and gripped the bars of the cage to balance.
Reaching out with the Force, he began to assess his injuries.
The Sephi’s ear twitched. What was this about being prey and why wasn’t she in the cantina she last remembered her being in? Opening her eyes and glancing around she got up, only to feel a burning pain from her side. She quickly grabbed her side and frowned as she wished the pain to subside for a moment.
‘They were lucky enough to break her ribs? That’s something new.’ she thought. Looking around she saw a few others, seeming in similar predicaments.
She forced herself to get up, hissing softly as the pain made the movement uncomfortable. ‘A Jungle, a group of people called prey… This can only go well.’
He knew something was wrong before he even opened his eyes. The droning voice of the droid sounded far away and muffled as he wrestled with unconsciousness, the Kessurian-echani hybrid pushing up on the floor of the cage he had been previously crumpled into a heap in. Where was he? Silver eyes pried themselves open and Severin’s vision swam. Shadows and people and bars of his cage mingled in his vision for a moment before things righted themselves.
Kark. Something was in his blood stream, wasn’t it?
With a groan Sev heaved himself into a sitting position and rubbed his face. He felt feverish, weak, nauseated. His stomach pitched and he found himself having to force back the urge to vomit. Once the wave of nausea faded the Kessurian patted his body, trying to assess what he had on him and what he didn’t. Which… just happened to be his now really dirty black button-up and his black slacks. Thankfully they at least left him with his shoes, but it seemed that he was missing anything else he normally carried on his person.
Great.
Of course he would find himself in this sitation, stuck in an unknown place with no gear and no way to call for help. After a significant amount of effort, Severin found himself in a standing position, and stumbled his way to one of the spears in the middle of the area they were in. He grasped it to help him stand, sweat beading on his forehead, causing his snow white hair to stick to his neck and face where it wasn’t tied back or braided out of the way. He needed to find out what poison was coursing through his veins and find a suitable antidote in the nearby forest.
Once he gained the ability to stand on his own without the support of the spear, the hybrid unbuttoned the sleeves of his button up and rolled them up to his elbows, exposing a metallic silver mazework of tattoos. Kark it was hot here.
“My guess is as good as yours…” he mumbled a reply to Vreva before another wave of nausea hit him.
A groan sounded from the curled up form of an Arkanian in yet another cage. He shifted, pressing into a tighter fetal position as his consciousness trickled back into him. Where was he?
His whole body ached, and there was a sharp pain in his shoulder as he moved his arm to try and push himself up. His crystalline eyes cracked open to take in his surroundings, but only saw a colorful blur. His head was pounding, jaw painfully throbbing with his heart rate. All memory of what happened prior to this failed him.
Mikhail was on his hands and knees, taking deep steadying breaths. It looked like he had been tossed through a meat grinder, bruises scattered across his body, a black eye, one side of his jaw was swollen, a cut in his shoulder seeped blood onto rainbow bruised skin. He swallowed dry, crawling out of the cage onto the wild floor. There, he took a quick self diagnoses.
Brain injury? Blurry vision, nauseous stomach, memory loss, and the physical state of his body. He was at least concussed. Worrying. He tried to take in his surroundings, voices wafted through the air towards him. He could only barely grasp at their meaning. They came from shapes around him, but not clustered close. He wasn’t in immediate danger it seemed.
“W… wha? Happen.” His dry voice croaked, jaw pain causing his speech to be quite limited.
Once she had calmed down enough to stop searching for any tags or trackers placed upon her she began to speak.“It appears we’re the ‘prey’” she would move her hands in air quotes “for a group of ‘hunters’…” the lagomorphic woman continued. Her tone was loud enough for all close to hear without allowing it to carry too far into the jungle.
“Which means we are being hunted. According to the droid that self destructed…” she kicked some of the debree from the droid away into the circle of spears “our gears somewhere in the jungle. We have very few options…and our gear is possibly trapped. Are any of you well enough to fight?” she queried the group. Hearing various grunts of pain or confusion she assumed they likely weren’t in any better shape than she was in.
Looking out into the jungle she could see the ‘local’ wildlife, she wasnt sure just how native it might be. Monkey-like creatures running around the jungle, perhaps avoiding becoming prey to something themselves. “I suggest we come up with a plan and get to cover. We’re exposed here…” she finished. She wasnt sure if anyone would help or if they were all out for themselves.
Vreva looked around to the others and her yellow eyes narrowed. The others were all pretty worse for wear. Though she would be foolish to go after the hunters on her own.
“I’m fine, but I’m not dragging anyone behind me,” she said flatly. “I agree we need to get out of this area. Figure out where our weapons are. Maybe bunker down until you all are fit to fight.” She shrugged dismissively. She was not at all concerned with what they chose to do. She was set in her own goal. “Hunt me? I’ll hunt them right back!”
Zae winced and didn’t respond to the others. There was nothing for to say that they already didn’t. Leaned to the right, she made her way over to the spears and counted. Icy blue hues glanced back towards the cages. Seven spears. Nine cages. No.
Zae can use her teeth and claws. She had never been good with close combat. Her eyes went to the kushiban. Would she… hmm. Picked up the spear and sniffed it, she then sniffed the air and growled lowly.
“Can smell them. Trail that way.” Zae pointed to the trail to anyone that was paying attention. She then turn to walk to the kushiban. Used her grip and eyeballing the best she can, she broke the longer spear into small pieces. When she was done, she handed the smaller spear to Kushiban.
“I cannot use. You use.”
“Good luck.” Asani said to Vreva while shaking her head, looking around at the possible allies, everyone was injured or incapacitated in some way, one looked like he might hurl, the approaching shistavanen looked less troubled but still favoring one side, as did most others and finally the beat up man at the entrance of his cage looked the worst off.
The offering of a small spear would ilicit a smile from the smaller rabbit-like woman. “Thank you.” she appreciated the weapon, taking it and practicing a few moves with it, it would do in a pinch at least. Anything was better than being without a method of defense. “My names Asani.” she offered as she finished her few moves. At least the shistavanen could possibly be trusted to be an ally.
“If theyre that way we’d better patch up and go get our stuff back. The droid said the hunt begins at dawn. I dont trust that we arent already being hunted. We should all go.” she walked toward the man laying on the ground. He seemed familiar, a closer inspection revealed the familiarity“Youre the armorer from the bazaar…”she said as realization dawned on her while checking him over. Moving his hair and limbs gently, she inspected him to see how badly injured he was. “He could probably help if our patrons decided to mess with our weaponry, he could help repair it. Maybe.” she spoke at Zae, if they could treat him it could be worth the trouble.
Circe moved out her cage and grabbed one of the spears as well. She kept holding her side as she looked at the others.
“I could give some healing through the Force, but it would be risky as well, though it might be helpful for him seeing the shape he is in.” Circe offered. She wanted to keep her Force reserves, but she could also not be weighted down by others if they wanted to survive.
The sharp pain was quite distracting. Hector Von Ricmore put his hand on his chest and tried to muster the concentration to channel the Force towards the afflicted area. But each movement he made sent a distracting bolt of pain through his being.
The Kiffar forced himself out of the cage. Pain or no pain, he could at least try to be polite.
“My name is Hector Von Ricmore, magistrate to the Vizsla consul. It is a pleasure to meet you all. I heard something about a scent to follow?”
Mikhail was spending most of his energy focusing on what others said, trying to glean information from his situation. Messily, he filed what information he could, minding the sheets that slipped onto the floor. He would have to comeback to them later.
For now, the Arkanian spent time pushing himself back and then up. He was leaning against the cage that once housed him. He used it as a brace so he could stand. Once about at eye level with the others, he focused on one at a time, trying to identify any of them that he may have met before. To the others, it was clear Mikhail was suffering. Bruises and cuts scattered across his body with a deep one at his shoulder. His lips leaked dry blood from the corner of his mouth and one of his eyes was partially swollen and darkened beyond the smudged eye liner he wore. “We.. have mwepon?” He squinted towards the others, despite the shoddy state he was in, he apparently needed some way to fight back.
Vreva grimaced as they others pulled themselves out of the cages. The last man seemed a foot out of his deathbed. The haughty Zabrak was not one to care for numbers usually, but as she counted the heads of those doubling over, the math was not looking out in her favor.
“Kark…” she muttered as she stepped toward the rest of the collecting group. “Guess I can do some healing as well, but you, sir–” She pointed to the Arkanian who looked like he was about to keel over again. “You sir need to sit your butt back down and have someone take a look at you. Not me, but someone else. I ain’t a doc.” She gave a sharp exhale of a laugh.
She crossed her arms over her chest as she considered their options. “I can check out the perimeter while folks get patched up. Wouldn’t suggest splitting up to grab the gear, but I wouldn’t stick around for long. That scent won’t last long, right?” She turned her gaze to the Shistavanen, an eyebrow raised.
“Asani Armis, pleasure to meet you, Hector. And yes, our shistavanen friend here has picked up a scent…” She pointed in the direction Zae had previously pointed out for Hector to gaze toward. Looking to Circe she nodded “Best we try to conserve our energy, a safe place first, healing once we’ve set up some type of a perimeter…” the Arkanian man had begun to stand which prompted her to move back and give him space. She decided then maybe standing next to or near Zae was the best course of action in case the armorer decided another long nap might be in order. “If you’re willing, there’s some type of…creatures around. Be careful.” Asani warned Vreva of what she had previously seen.
Zae watched the people and an angry exhale from her nose sounded like a frustrated snort. She glanced back to the trail where she can smell the scent.
“Stay together. Pack.” Her eyes gaze over Vreva when she suggested for the most wounded one in the group to stay behind.
Hrm.
He would be eaten by now.
“No,” Zae answered Vreva. She went to the tree closest to her and started to climb, ignoring the pain on her rib and was being careful when moving that side. Once she was on the branch, she glanced around. Then continued to go higher. From a ways away, she noticed the hunting nest. Her left ear twitched in annoyance.
The droid.
‘Your weapons are in a hunt nessst sssssomewhere…’
Can it be? Was it really that simple? Ugh. She hated talking more than she needed to.
Zae climbed down. She wishes she could jump down but that would be a bad idea.
“Found nest. Looks empty. Maybe weapons. Maybe safe. Enclosed. Stay bad. I carry?” Zae suggested as she glanced over to Mikhail and Sev, both who looked worse out of the bunch.
“Another carry?” She looked over to the group. Pack was important. There strength in numbers. Despite they usually kill the weakest, it seemed the crystal faced man had an idea of how to fix weapons and that may be important.
“I… Mm. D-… DocK tor. Bunbussion. C-.. cussion” he held his head in a hand, the one not covered in his own blood. He winced at the tenderness he felt, but knew he had to stay as focused as he could. His eyes locked on the one that spoke to him first, and he spit a thick glob of stale bloody saliva off to the side.
“Neen ta get. Things. Fix us. Babta.” His teeth grit before he half mumbled a slurred swear in Arkanian. This wasn’t looking good, but at least he hasn’t lost consciousness or vomited. The others seemed at least competent. He would have to rely on them as much as it irked him to without the ability to properly identify them beyond names that didn’t fit in his files.
“I agree with dark and handsome,” Sev mumbled, yanking his spear from the ground. He ran a quick mental checklist, running through the poisons he knew before he found one that matched his symptoms.
“While we’re eager to move, some of us can’t. We need to do inventory, figure out what injuries we have and assess before we continue.” The kessurian halted, pressing the back of his hand to his lips and causing the mass of jewelry on his pointed ears to jingle. Another wave of nausea.
Oh gods he’d have thrown up by now if there were anything in his stomach.
“We could be at this for days. Rushing ahead will get us killed. So lets sound off. Dark and handsome over there has a concussion, I’m poisoned with a Trandoshian special cocktail… what else?”
“Yet we can’t afford to linger. Most of us lack weapons and Force Healing takes time we don’t have. We need to get our hands on something to defend ourselves and find something to help mitigate or fix our wounds. Even if we split the group, at least 2 of us should investigate the hunting nests further.” Hector stated. “I’m no expert on Trandoshans but these claim to be hunters. Clan Vizsla often hosts a competition called The Great Hunt, which always features prey that can fight back to up the stakes. So I am willing to take the change that the Trandoshan speaking from the droid is being honest about weapons. They want a competition, for us to struggle to the death in the name of glory.”
As Vreva listened closely to the others speak, her stance became less tense. The immediate sense of danger faded the more they lingered without attack. But an itch at the back of her head caused her to flinch. Can’t afford to linger. “Right. Like the magistrate says, we need to move out.” Her yellow eyes narrowed as she looked between the surrounding forests to the concussed doctor and back.
“I can carry the doc so we can move faster. Someone else can use the spear.” Her tone betrayed her reluctance to hand over the weapon, but she stuck it in the ground to be retrieved by whomever. The red Zabrak strode over and looked down her nose at the Arkanian. “You all right with that?”
Mikhail had just barely comprehended the words that Sev spoke. At first, he wasn’t sure who they were mentioning. Was someone else concussed? Did he miss that bit?
The realization shocked him into focusing a bit more. There was a woman standing in front of him…. Offering to carry him?
His eyes focused for a moment, crystal orbs staring up at her almost defiantly before lip twitched. “I.. can bawlk” He pushed off from the cage and towards the center where he examined the spears for a moment. After seemingly finding them unsatisfactory he took a few more steps, slowly gaining more confidence in his limping stride as he approached the Shistavanen.
Once there, he slowly lowered himself to his knees. He collected the other half of the broken spear that Zae had adjusted for the Kushiban. He lifted it and a medium sized flat rock and started working.
The pale Arkanian pulled his shirt off, revealing the crystal that covered the back of his neck and arched down his spinal column in addition to more bruises from whatever treatment he was given before arriving here. With some effort, he tore the shirt into long strips, then used them to secure the stone that had been wedged into the bottom half of the broken shaft. It was not a work of art, but it was solid and would function well enough.
Finally he stood, Turing to the others while white knuckling the handle of his new makeshift axe. “Be.. move. I follow.”
Vreva shrugged. “Suit your pride,” she said under her breath. “Don’t fall behind, though.” Since it seemed no-one else had any use for her spear, she retrieved it for herself. With that settled,she was itching to leave. Her gaze shifted along the edge of the clearing as she shifted her weight between her feet.
“Ready to head out?”
Worried. Yeah worried was a word for what he felt seeing Mikhail drag himself to standing position. The Kessurian-Echani held out his hands, preparing to catch the Arkanian should he fall over, but the man seemed to be able to keep himself upright. Which… was impressive. Severin had suffered quite a few concussions himself. It was not a fun time.
With that it seemed the group was determined to move forward, as beaten and battered as they were. While he didn’t blame them, he also didn’t agree, but didn’t want to be left behind. He sighed, using the spear as a walking stick.
“Yeah, forward we go. I can cover our tracks. They’ll likely assume that’s where we’re heading, but they won’t be able to follow us.”
“Let’s get moving then. The longer we stay, the more open we are to whatever the hunters send after us.” Hector proclaimed. The Kiffar began to move towards the nearest nest, hoping that he and others would find something of use to them in this struggle.
Circe looked at the group as she started to walk. It was painful with her ribs hurting like hell, but better then becoming food of these hunters.
Zae walked to the direction where she saw the nest earlier. Her ears twitched at every sound and she kept an eye out for any protentional traps.
Asani followed Zae while occasionally looking back at Mikhail. “Mind if I ride on your shoulders?” the kushiban asked as she did her best to keep up. “I can make my fur look like yours, Its like im not even there.” she added, letting the shistavanen know she would not become a target by carrying the smaller fluffball around.
Severin followed the group, smearing tracks, breaking extra sticks, and overall obscuring their tracks in the soft earth as they went. The Trandosians were a hunter society, well known for being able to track their prey across decent distances– even to the other end of the galaxy. Luckily, Severin had worked with them before. A soft smile filled his features as he worked to cover their trail, memories of his first meeting with Savran filling his mind.
“Is it wrong that I find the big Shista carrying the tiny Kushiban extremely adorable?” he queried without looking back, eyes peeled on their surroundings as they went. He was looking not only for signs of the hunters, but also any sign of the herbs he would need to counteract the poison in his veins.
At least it wasn’t lethal.
…. He hoped.
Zae stopped and glanced down at the Kushiban. Her ears flattened against her skull as she considerd it. Her fur looks like hers? Hmm. Not a bad idea. If needed, Zae can throw her at enemies. She knew that she was not good at combat and was better with traps and archery.
“Yes.” She squatted down and waited for the Kushiban to jump onto her shoulder.
The smaller kushiban was glad to hop onto Zaes shoulders, her fur color shifting hues to mimic the shistavanenes color. At least she wouldn’t be so easily spotted in a situation where the group might need to fight, and this way she could focus on listening for any dangers.
Tilting her ears in all directions she began to listen intently for anything that could signal trouble, yet she could only hear the sounds of the jungle surrounding them. Leaves rustling in the wind or moving as the group made its march, branches rustling against each other. Even the creatures she had seen before too, their movements and calls filled the night air with some life. Nothing she could pinpoint was out of the “ordinary” or an aproximate of it considering their unorthodox situation.
“Cant hear anything weird for now…” she commented to her now semi companion semi mount friend.
Hector moved silently through the forest, eyes pealed for any adversary that lay in wait. He trudged up the ladder into one of the Trandoshan nests. At least, he thought it was a nest. The room was dark and it was difficult to make out anything with his eyes.
Zae’s ear twitched at the people around her. She climbed on the opposite tree and did her best not to growl in pain. She made a leap onto the nest and started to explore around on the roof before heading inside.
Circe was searching too and kept her ears primed to any suspicious sounds around them. It still felt odd to her to work in a group, she was used to working alone, but in this case numbers would matter.
The Kiffar continued to search the darkened room. He felt his foot make contact with an object. He reached down and began to search the floor with his hands. It appeared that he had stumbled upon a small cache of weapons; no doubt left by the trandoshan hunters to increase the stakes of their hunting games. Hector gathered the weapons into a pile and picked them up. Half a dozen low quality hunting blasters and half a dozen slugthrowers, alongside a box of ammunition for the weapons, was in his hands.
Hector descended the tree house and began walking back to the group. “Everyone, I’ve got weapons. Anyone who can wield a blaster or slugthrower should take one from me now.”
“Dibs!” Vreva replied quickly as she grabbed a slugthrower and some ammo from the bundle in the magistrate’s arms. It wasn’t her rifle, but it would do in a pinch. She then took the stairs two at a time up to the treehouse to see what else she could find.
A bit of rummaging through a crate produced four cannisters of bacta. She tossed one cannister between her hands, then raised it up for the others to see. “Got some bacta here!”
Zae rolled her eyes as Hector left the treehouse. Nope. This was a good place to bunker down for a bit if needed.
Sadly, the weapons they had found was going to be no help. And the bacta? Doesn’t take care of broken ribs. She looked around inside and found nothing that can help her set up traps around the treehouse. Great.
Instead, Zae kept her ears and nose out for anything unusual or any changes.
“So, what do we do now? Going to stay here and patch everyone up or are we going to try and find the rest of our equipment?” Circe said as she was getting a bit impatient with the group.
Severin grabbed one of the slugthrowers from Hector, as well as some ammo, and seemed to relax at the reassurance that he had some sort of weapon outside of the shoddy spears they had. He kept both, shoving the slugthrower (safety on) into his waistband. He also stumbled over and grabbed an antidote kit from the crates Vreva was going through and downed it like he hadn’t had anything to drink in days.
It tasted horrific. But it would do.
The Kessurian-echani gagged, then cleared his throat.
“The more time we stay in one place, the more likely we are for them to catch up. They’ll know we would come here for supplies.”
“Yeah, but this is as defensible a place as any,” Vreva replied. Vreva chewed at her lip as she considered their options. “Got the high ground up here, and I’d rather take my chances here than stumbling through the trees. I can keep watch if others want to heal up. Maybe we can move on once people are in a better state to do so?” She shrugged. “Then again, I’m no tactician. I find a target, I hit it.”
Hopping off of Zae, the kushiban looked around, inspecting the area in hopes of finding something else that might be useful. Upon a closer look at the area, there was in fact a camo netting, it would help conceal they area, that is if they decided to stay to begin with. “We’d best regroup, heal and leave. Do you need any healing?” She would ask the much larger shistavanen, while hopping close to the edge looking down at the others. “I think itd be prudent to get out of here as fast as we can, they’ll be expecting us to hide here, its safe, but its too obvious. We’re sitting bantha here.” she shouted down at the rest of the crowd before turning back to Zae for an answer.
Mikhail was leaning against the large tree, watching others go up and down. As a crate of weapons passed, he snagged a slug pistol and tucked it away in the waistband against the small of his bare back.
He gurggled a soft “Baca? Mamor, kn Heel”
Seeing that the others had decided to stay and rest up for the time being, Vreva found a decent spot to watch and wait. She checked over the slugthrower in her hands and made sure it was loaded up and ready.
Sev grabbed up one of the Bacta canisters and then wobbled over to Mikhail. The antidote was taking it’s time but he was slowly feeling better. He gently handed the canister out to the Arkanian, smiling softly.
“Here. Should help.”
An hour passed as the night wore on and the dawn crept ever closer. The cacophony of jungle sounds gave way for a moment as a series of unfamiliar howls rang in the distance.
Zae growled as her ears flattened against her skull. She wanted to run away. She glanced to the others to see what they wanted to do now they were healed up.
Severin perked up, pointed ears flicking slightly causing his earrings to chime together. For just a moment he looked akin to a hunting dog, eyes searching the area as his ears and montrals did their work. It took him a few moments to scroll through all the animal calls and howls in his head, scooting on down the list till he reached the “V’s”.
Vornskr. That was the call of a Vornskr. Kark. He winced slightly at the thought of what those teeth could do.
“Vornskr. The Trandoshans must have imported them, they’re not native to this planet.” He frowned, taking the blaster from his waistband to turn the safety off. The mechanism quietly clicked as the weapon hummed to life.
“Viscious canines that can sense the Force. If you’re Force-inclined, I would suggest suppressing it if you can. Otherwise they’ll hunt us down in no time.”
“That may not be the best idea.” Hector argued. “We’re up against hunters that have no doubt trained their hounds. If we conceal our Force presence we won’t be able to call upon it in battle until we stop hiding it. The creatures will find us by scent if not by our Force signature. Let’s make use of the high ground and funnel them on to the stairs. They will only be able to reach us from that single entrance. Those capable of using ranged weapons will fire as they draw close while the others can brace on the stairs while holding spears. Even someone not proficient with bladed weapons can provide an obstacle and make the creatures approach more difficult.”
Hector grabbed his slugthrower and moved to the window of the trandoshan hunting blind, ready to fire on any hostile creature that he perceived.
Circe tilted her head, her ears also having picked up the sounds.
“I partly agree on staying here. If they have the dogs, who says that they aren’t close behind them as well? The dogs we should be able to handle, but the hunters might be a different problem. They can wait us out as we slowly starve or burn us out. We should get the rest of our equipment so we can fight them more evenly.”
“Gotta deal with the Vornskrs one way or the other,” Vreva growled as she clicked off the safety on her slugthrower. “Let’s fry ‘em. Then we can scatter with a slower tail.” She leveled her weapon, focused on the bottom of the stairs. With a steadying breath, she settled herself within the ever-shifting current of the Force, welcoming its influence. It would guide her hand when her eyes could not. She waited with held breath for the first sign of moment.
Dumb decision. Dumb to stay. Dumb to fight. Dumb to not hide the only thing pointing them out like freaking lighthouses in the forest. He could run, could split from the group, increase his chances to survive and see everyone he cared about again– but separating could mean dooming the rest of them. More hands meant a higher chance of survival. Severin swore in Kessurian under his breath, then moved so that he was hidden behind a post.
“Guess we fight then,” he grumbled, holding his blaster at the ready.
Mikhail’s focus slowly returned as the Bacta coursed through him. He could feel the swelling of his jaw go down, the soreness of his throat numbing to the point where he could form words once again. He went over the slugthrower in the meantime, inspecting it while making sure the axe he had was properly secured as the others spoke.
“No.” He spoke up finally, then cleared his throat, voice firming up. “No. If we stay here their dogs will stay below us, trapping us here. We’ll be stuck. We need to separate. Anyone who can shoot well stays up here and provides overwatch, the rest need to go down, screen the incoming threat.”
“If you want to run, then by all means,” Vreva growled. “I’m not trudging through the kriffing undergrowth with beasts up my arse.” The zabrak’s jaw was set and her yellow gaze was focused on the treeline, seeking targets.
Mikhail moved to the door, watching outside it as well. “This isn’t running. It’s turning this weak position into a strength.” With that, he carefully stepped past the others and descended the stairs, walking with just a limp. He quickly moved to a position on the edge of the clearing around the tree, positioning the treehouse between himself and the approaching dogs.
He readied his pistol in one hand, his other clutched the handle to his makeshift axe rather tightly. The Arkanian scanned his surroundings for any other obvious advantages he could give himself other than basic bush and tree cover.
Sure enough, the Arkanian spotted a divot in the earth that was mostly mud. With only a slight hesitation due to hygiene concerns, Mikhail scooped mud into his left hand, using it to cover his blue crystal cheek. He sheltered down in the nook between mud bush and tree, covering his bare pale chest with the cool dark mud. He made sure to keep his gun hand clean, holding it ready. He didn’t know when they would come, the hounds or the hunters, but he would be ready.
| Howls echoed in the distance due west from the hunting blind. Before anyone could react a round of blaster fire could be heard with some yelps.
“Or maybe they aren’t hunting us right now,” Zae started as her ear twitched at the high pitch yelps. “Seems like they are hunting anything they see, maybe?”
“Could be another group they are hunting?” Circe said as she looked at the group. “Do we still want to keep waiting here? I rather even the odds with our own armour and weapons.”
Zae glanced over to Circe.
“We can use this chance to find another treehouse and see if we can find weapons and armor.” Not wanting to stick around, Zae went towards the ladder. “I’m going to see if I can find another tree house and away from those sounds. Join me or don’t.” She growled. No way was she going to stay here and risk her pretty fur for this. She jumped down to the ground and waited for a few seconds. If they wanted to stick together, it would be best but… she doesn’t want to stick together if they were just waiting around to die.