Session export: Snares, Claws and Baits.

An olive toned hand slowly rubbed against brown, leathery skin as a feathered near-human petted a Keeradak that was greatly larger than he. It could swallow him while if it chose to. Yet, here it was, in the cargo hold of a transport with its head lowered to stare its giant red eyes. Purple and orange iris held it back, near transparent nictitating membranes barely disturbing the intimate bond.

Flyndt sighed and whispered a thank you to Drakor for joining him. He stepped away and replaced his long leather glove back on, tucking the off-white sleeves of his shirt back into it. He wore a dark teal-grean vest coat that was accented with leather strips and red, white, green stripes. His billowy pale lavender pants were carefully gathered at the base of his decorative leg-sleeves. He gave the scarfs wrapped around his waist a check, ensuring his tucked away blades were snug, and tightened his belt while his thoughts idled.

He had not exactly planned this endeavor. The Omwati has been visiting the Port Ol'val with Jax with hopes of garnering information. It was while he was waiting for the hybrid man to finish a meeting with this ‘Blindman’ – Jax had promised to explain the position once done, but said they were allies – when a young furry alien had ran by him. Reaching after her with the Force, he had grabbed a sharp sense of urgency and fear, and immediately asked what was wrong. Her hands had spoke, explaining, and his answered and affirmative.

I will help. .

Next thing he knew, they picked up Drakor, mentioning companions such as he would be of assistance, several other individuals he had not yet met, and were off. He had only manage to message Foxen a little while ago to explain he was aiding someone in need and will be back…sometime. Flyndt would not be surprised if the man was in his ship and on his way, following the vitals and tracker chip he wore in a small vial around his neck.

Well…the Nautolan hybrid would be if Flyndt’s attention to fix the communication array on his ship had not disabled the thrusters. It may be a bit till Foxen got Minnie to fly him.

Sighing at himself, Flyndt looked over and spotted the Shistavanen staring out a window. He wandered over and leaned against the hull a bit before the actually shorter than him teenager.

How are you doing? Have luck talking to family? Friends on ground? his hands asked.

The teens smooth hands was a blessing. It took the Omwati a bit of processing and replaying the hand signals to piece together all of her message. His knowledge had come a long ways since meeting Foxen but was still learning. There was a moment the girl looked like she would hug him, and he stiffen but mentally would have allowed it. Flyndt was finding himself very sympathetic to a worried, distressed teen. He had been in those shoes before.

I hope we find them safe. Both safe. I will do all I can, he tried to reassure. His gaze shifted to the animals nears her, curious how they would help but at the same time choosing to have faith they could. He believes in Drakor after all. Flyndt cleared his throat, switching to basic for a moment.

“What is your family’s name? Both of them? And this jungle, what is it like? Their camp?”

Home insecure.

Security parameters violated. Threat level: unknown. Quantity: unknown. Assets: unknown. Target: unknown.

Location: unknown unknown unknown.

Mission: ‘help someone’ is insufficient. Data insufficient. Home insecure.

Home insecure.

There is pain in the spot between the eyes. The metal arm of the seat bends under his hand 14°. The lines of collapsing, compressed galaxies blur in front of him.

Speed of light: insufficient.

Chatter, to his left. Minnow speaks to the stranger. Stranger, category: does not fraking matter right now.

“…sooooo, your feathers are like, really pretty. The person we’re going to see has these pretty feathers too, but not as pretty as yours–”

Status: incorrect.

“–but he’s an Omwati. What are your people like?”

She has been making variations on such conversational attempts since he nearly tore the hydraulics getting onto the ship at maximum (inefficient) speed. Time between message received and preparing armor knives guns: 3.2 minutes. Time between preparation complete and reply emergency signal to Minnow: 6.1 minutes, subjectively an eternity. Time between Jax waking in the door with sorry explanation and impact of knuckles to face: 0.08 seconds.

Total time elapsed since Flyndt disappeared and home became insecure: 107 minutes, 43 seconds.

The speed is not fast enough.

The body requires movement.

- It stands. Minnie cuts off from attempting to use her physical assets to manipulate prevention of a “bad review” in order to warn him to sit down. Status: ignore. The body moves past the stranger who is not his bird – home insecure – and performs a perimeter check. Of the 17 m personal yacht that is only 10 m internally. Perimeter check: clear, save violation by stranger. Assessment: fellow predator. Threat status: low. Second perimeter check: clear. Third: clear.

“Foxxy, stop pacing…”

I am not fraking pacing, he reports back, hands almost sharper than his knives. Jax’s blood is still on his knuckles. It is safety compromised.

“Foxen, I am sorry that I lost track of him, but do you not think you are overreacting? He can choose where he goes. He said he was going to help.”

Vocal tenor had indicated: judgement, concern. An attempt at manipulating a realization he does not need to have. They know they’re fraking damaged, Jax. That isn’t the fraking point. The point is that Flyndt’s little dot left the system and they agreed, they agreed after the last time he came back to the house and found home under the table with the caf maker in pieces, I missed you, I don’t like it when you’re gone, don’t leave again, we go together, not alone? Tell? Yes, yes.

What is the threat. Why are they going to Uneva Prime. Where is Flyndt.

Where is Flyndt.

Insecure insecure insecure in–

“Foxxy…”

Minnow’s voice is too close.

Retreat: 1 m. Pivot. Back to wall. Knife in hand, ready, loose. Respiration: increased. Heart rate: increased.

Can this ship not go any fraking faster she is the best pilot he knows did Flyndt pull something out of this one too who is the stranger does he have a big enough gun he doesn’t know he’s going to vomit–

Hands speak.

Tolly. It’s okay. We’re almost there. It’s going to be okay. Please.

Her face is emotion. Cracked. It hurts her to see this. Strong emotion undesired. Compromises efficiency, increase mission difficulty. Denied.

The body– he steps past her, barreling back to the copilot chair, and stands staring out the viewport, willing himself to sieve through the transparisteel and be there.

While unfamiliar with the first sign, he did understand Father. He nodded slowly and minutely. The wilderness growing silent was a sign of predators, or something that did not belong, a threat. Flyndt was beginning to think the this ‘she’ was not a good person. His expression had fallen to a slight frown in his thinking, but her next question stirred it with surprise followed by a brief strained expression.

“I…have a brother…and an aunt, I suppose, yes…” Sunset gaze darkened, his jaw locking for a sec as he glanced away briefly. That crest of red feathers dipping a bit. Another small shake if head.

“This she? Sounds like this woman?” Flyndt asked, “Is a danger or threat to your family?”

A tall Zabrak with skin of deep red and angular black tattoos leaned on the hull as she looked out the window. Yellow eyes shifted between the approaching planet and the others conversing within the transport. There was a lot more said with gestures that was a mystery to Vreva, and she made a mental note to learn. Wouldn’t help for this job, though.

Vreva had been hired on as muscle. No need to be chatty. Though the anticipation of touching down had her tense.

She adjusted the weight of the rifle at her shoulder, then checked her belt for her pistol and blade. A nervous habit. Of course they’d be there.

Savran checked their datapad again, navigating to the Xuber app with a few quick clicks on its digital screen. Minnow Erinos’ pilot rating was, surprisingly, five stars. Huh. None of the Nautolan’s reviews mentioned anything about surprise detours to rescue people. Kidnapping. This was kidnapping. The saffron-skinned Shani shrugged their shoulders with a sigh. This wasn’t the first time and likely wouldn’t be the last time they’d been taken somewhere against their will. It was par for the course in their line of work.

Savi considered the woman for a moment. She wore Mandalorian vambraces, and sported a toned build and posture that suggested she was current or ex-military, something that they recognized because of their own military experience. They’d considered greeting her in Mando'a to test the waters, but decided against it. No point in getting more acquainted with someone they likely wouldn’t see again. They appreciated the compliment, though.

“Thanks,” they began, moving a hand to brush the wild plumage backward, “Your headtails are cute, too. They frame your face nicely.”

The crest of cinnamon and canary yellow feathers at the front of Savran’s head quivered at the mention of this mystery person being an Omwati. A fleeting glance placed Minnow squarely within the sight of two slitted eyes of the deepest amber. It came as no surprise that she didn’t know much about their kind because they tended to keep to themselves. Ever the solitary species prior to their ancient diaspora, the tendency stuck with many Shani despite their better judgment. That combined with the less-than-stellar reputation they’d acquired left few details for other species of the Galaxy to form a clear picture of who they were.

“Nomadic, carnivorous, resourceful, survivors.”

-

They left it at that, leaving the woman to tend to the tall glass of water that paced back and forth near them. Her ebullient disposition stood in stark contrast to the tense, nigh frantic energy he gave off. He was clearly worried about something, but Savi was unable to make heads or tails of the gestures he made to the talkative pilot. It was clearly some sort of sign language, but the meaning was lost on them. They regarded the duo for a few more moments before looking forward.

Weirdest Xuber ride ever.

With her brother having some kind of stroke looking out the view, Minnie gnawed on her lip, fists clenching, willing herself not to cry. Couldn’t they have even one good little while? Even a week–

She cut off that train of thought, furious at herself, and looked for anything else to focus on while her navcomputer read ticked steadily closer.

At least her freaking customer, oh Oceans this was kidnapping, was obvious. And surprisingly calm.

“Our kind are a little like that,” she threw out a line, eyeing the woman(?) Her passenger gave off the same vibe her brother did, this sort of…not menace, exactly, but something predatory, removed. Like looking at animals, or objects, not people. Minnie decided not to be creeped out by it. Foxen got enough crap, and people never understood her brother. They always acted like something was wrong with him, broken or hatched that way, and she hated it.

Her own voice haunted her, venting weeks ago, on their way to Karran’s, you got worse!

As if there was ever anything wrong at all. No! He was just different.

“Uh…I mean. Like, we’re carnivores. Well, omnivores obviously like have you met grilled cheese? Perfect food. But like, naturally. Fish and stuff yanno? Cause we can live our whole lives in the ocean. And not nomadic exactly, but migratory? Foxxy says our pod would always go back to the place we were born every year, for the hatchings. It’s–” She stopped suddenly, looking to her brother, a sad catch in her voice. “Well. It’s a neat fact, yah? But Mandalorians! That’s survivors. So we got a lot in common, maybe! I’m Minnow by the way. Like it says on my profile! And this is Foxen. I really really really promise it’s not a kidnapping we just need to this planet. Our family’s in trouble. Not that you’ll be in trouble! Foxxy is gonna go figure it out, I’m gonna stay in orbit. Once we know more I can even maybe hop back and bring you home and then pop back here…”

A bang on the console interrupted her.

Foxen lifted his fist from the metal, staring at his hand. Normally, he would snap to get Minnie’s attention. But the body was not content with snapping fingers. Not this kind. The body wanted to grind bones. Flense skin from flesh. Burn the world. If anything had happened.

T-0005 arrival, he signaled, not looking over his shoulder. Ash angel protocols.

Minnow grimaced, but walked over to start flipping switches. The lights and humming electronics in the cabin powered down, as did the recycling of air, shortly before they dropped out of hyperspace.

“Be a minute to retract the sails,” she whispered. In the distance, a system was in view, Uneva Prime and its planetoids. “Then I’ll plot us an approach.”

The larger Nautolan hybrid didn’t respond. He watched the dot on his datapad, the tracker closer, closer, biosigns normal. His other hand rubbed at his arm, where his own sat firmly under the dermis (respiration, heart rate: elevated.)

Closer.

As it turned out, both the larger Nautolan and the smaller one were stressed, but she was just better at hiding it. Those minute changes in her expressions and body language didn’t get past Savran’s observant eyes. She seemed like she needed someone to talk to, which was probably why she’d returned her attention to Savi.

“Grilled cheese is good, I’ll admit,” they replied, crossing one leg over their knee and tucking their hands in their lap. “I prefer those little boards with cheese and meat on them–charcuterie boards. Live meals are ideal, though, most find that kind of thing unseemly,” Savi answered, intentionally vague in the latter half of their reply. Better that than to potentially freak the woman out by telling her that Shani oftened preferred other sentients for dinner. People’s negative perception of their species didn’t bother them personally, but they’d rather the trip to rescue the Omwati-in-distress have as little awkwardness as possible.

Savran catalogued the information about Nautolans away in their datapad. Who knew, that information may end up coming in handy if they ever needed to track down a Nautolan in the future. “I suspected you were a Mandalorian,” Savi began, switching to fluent Mando'a mid-sentence, though they spoke it with an accent influenced by their native Shani. “Savran Has, but you can call me Savi if you’d like.”

When the Nautolan who introduced herself as Minnow returned to the controls, Savi spoke a little louder from their seat so she could hear them. “Well, this won’t be the first rescue mission I’ve been on, so I’ll lend a hand. You seem like good people despite kidnapping me,” they paused to ensure that the joking tone rang true, then continued, “so I don’t mind. Who knows? I may even get a free meal out of it, too.”

Minnow’s headtails practically shriveled up against the base of her skull, prickling with those words, with her back to the Shani now. The knot that formed in her stomach was instantaneous and reminded of the fall right before a cliff.

That. Was not a joke. The tone said so, but the emotion underneath?

Oh, shit.

Suddenly ‘live meals’ was all too literal and her mind spiraled with possibilities she did not want to think too much about. Sure, a little nibble was one thing, but…

“Uhhhhhh–haaah, no, I mean, c'mon, you’re a civilian, who I’ve kidnapped, you don’t have to jump in on our mission. Besides, it’s a family matter…” she tried to defuse, clicking high in their oceantongue and signing to her brother when he looked up from the datapad he’d fixated on, This lady eats people!

Foxen just stared at her. At her frantic expression, he looked past her, then moved to stand between her and Savi, which was sometimes infuriating but usually everything. His crimson eyes focused on her instead of his tracker or the mission for one moment, his full attention on them, assessing head to toe.

He typed on his pad, then turned it towards the Shani.

Do not harm the Omwati or Minnow or I will kill you. You’re Tekuani. Yes/no? Enemy unknown. Numbers might be steep. If you assist in extraction, I’ll make sure to leave one alive for you.

There it was, that sudden realization that the Shani was every bit a predator as the rumors made their kind out to be. Part of Savi reveled in it, but only insofar as it allowed her to intimidate her enemies and to keep boredom at bay. Lips tattooed the color of onyx pulled into a grin that showed of a pair of slender, two inch fangs. They were clearly amused with themselves. Once the towering Nautolan stepped in front of Minnow, Savran’s expression returned to a neutral one as they looked him over. He was solidly built and clearly a soldier of some kind, just like Minnow. Then, it clicked. Nautolan hybrid who looked like he was carved from a block of durasteel, who didn’t speak. They had heard of such a person during their travels and although they were never one for watching gladiatorial combat, it was hard to ignore tales of a ruthless combatant whose name was on the lips of nearly every person she met during that period.

Rising from her seat to get a closer look at him and the message he wrote, Savi placed a hand on their hip. Their eyes softened as they regarded the large fellow again. Poor boy. He looked like he’d been through the worst of it. The threat, or promise given who Savi knew this man to be, didn’t bother them at all, but they took note of it, nonetheless. “Don’t worry,” they began, “I have no intention of hurting you or your people.”

Their eyes narrowed at this use of their codename. Few people had the stones to speak that name aloud. But Savi supposed if there was anyone who would, it’d be this one. “Yes, I am Tekuani,” they said, performing a quick half bow mostly as a joke at their own expense, but also as a gesture of thanks for Foxen’s offer. The look of recognition of their face was all he needed to know that they knew exactly who he was, as well.

“How sweet of you. We have a deal,” they said before addressing Minnow again. “How long until we’re planetside?”

On the opposite side of the hull where Flyndt and the young Tajga stood, Sagitta leans against the hull, Lately, the Mirialan had been taking up odds operations, she really had needed to clear her mind. She only got the gist of what this one was about and knew the young girl needed help with her family. Her hand ran through her hair as she started to braid it. Her pink eyes glanced at her surroundings, seems like a pretty decent group, though she needed to watch herself and watch over the young Shistavanen. The Omwati was asking Tajga questions and since she didn’t know the way of their communication, she decided to stay out of it and just work on meditation to prepare herself for whatever they were going to encounter.

“Well…” Minnow sucked on her cheek, visibly worrying it as she glanced between her brother and Savran, not sure what to do with the Shani suddenly calling Foxen sweet. What had he said to them that he didn’t intend her to know about? He’d have just signed it otherwise, expecting translation.

The pilot grit her teeth and put it aside. If Foxen was making a call, she would follow it. Her brother protected them. At any cost. That was how it had always been. She knew that meant some awful things, and she knew it made her culpable for them too. But he’d always kept this line: never let her go wherever it was he went that was too far to come back from, never let her endure what he did, never let her skin be touched by the branding iron that his and their mother’s had. It went all the way back. And if he told her not to ask, not to look.

Then she wasn’t going to look. Not because she couldn’t take it, but because he’d given up so much so she wouldn’t have to, and she wasn’t going to throw that away. Even if it sometimes made her feel useless and small and like–

Not the time. Minnow blew out a breath and focused up. They were on a mission. A couple years civvie-side hadn’t made her that lax.

“It looks like our tracker is pinging from a cargo shuttle on the radar up ahead,” she answered the Shani, Foxen coming up behind her as she returned to her seat. He angled sideways, and she knew that meant he was watching Savi, but also including her. Apparently this was their rescue now. Some stranger in her Xuber! Although, a stranger that had spoken Mando'a, she realized. “Its course doesn’t match for Uneva Prime. It’s probably headed to the moon there.”

Foxen cut in, Can’t let that happen. Enemy unknown. Planetside destination likelihood 90% reinforced armaments, numbers, possible base of operations. Shuttle capacity is limited. We go in, sweep, get Flyndt, retreat.

-

For Savi’s sake, Minnie said this all aloud while he spoke, and then gave her brother a look.

“Foxxy, the Water Kitten doesn’t have guns. She’s not your assault ship, she’s a yacht. We don’t have anything to disable that ship with.”

Silently, Foxen drew something out of his pack and held it up: a massive proton charge. Minnie threw up her hands.

“You want to blow our way in? That’s not going to help Flyndt!”

Flyndt is able. He can survive a breach. But even as he said it, Minnie knew him well enough to see the hesitance added to his movements.

“Or we could try contacting them first.”

Not the time for fraking diplomacy. Enemy.

“You don’t know that. They could be ours, for crying out loud.”

He wouldn’t have left the system if it wasn’t under duress.

“Fox–”

We promised.

While the siblings argued, the two ships drew closer, the little solar sailor inching nearer on only thrusters, systems down for a stealth approach.

Archives were dangerous, stuff rotted, got fungus or weird giant space bugs got into them. It did explain where the last six chief archivists had gotten too, they hadn’t deserted! Their heads had been bitten off by the odd insectoid creature now lying before Ood, and partially behind him… and that one mandible was now hanging from a chandelier. With a sigh of relief, the Neti put away his saber.

Ood disliked bugs, they like to burrow into trees. His bark itched just thinking about it.

‘Oh, wasn’t that young Archian? He seemed bothered by something. Time to make like a Jedi, and meddle!’

“… and meddle!”

“Wait, did I say that out loud again?”

‘That too?’

“Ah but not that last bit! Victory!”

Savran folded their arms affront their chest, tapping a tapered nail against their wristlink’s glass display. Even though they couldn’t understand what Foxen said, Savran could tell that he and Minnow argued like children. And that’s what they were compared to someone of the Shani’s age. One-hundred-thirty-five years was a fraction of the age that most Shani lived but it was older than what most sentients could ever hope to reach. This advanced age made them more than a little impatient, though one couldn’t easily tell by looking at her. They seemed mostly aloof save for the finger tapping.

“How about this,” they interjected, “We dock and board the cargo ship like normal. My approach is going to be mostly the same whether their friendlies or hostiles. If they turn out to be the former, then you two can apologize for not ignroing protocol later.”

Savi pulled their vibroknife from their hip sheath and held the blade up to their mouth. A viscuous translucent liquid dripped from one of their fangs and onto the weapon’s blade, a process that continued until there was enough for Savi to spread it into an even coat with a cloth. Once they finished, they lifted their head to address the bickering duo. “Sounds good? Good.”

The Shani recieved two unblinking stares, one most would guess was impassive but actually somewhere between calculating and murderous, and the other expressively, effusively indignant-disapproving. Minnow’s, at least, pinched back into something less perturbed with a short exhale.

“No, not ‘good,’ we’re not all in agreement yet,” she said a forcibly even but nonetheless patient tone. It seemed like she was actively ignoring or accepting the venom thing. “We appreciate that you’re volunteering to help, Savran, but this isn’t your operation and there isn’t a designated mission head. Now,” she turned back to Foxen, craning her head up at him. “That’s two for at least a standard boarding. We should hail them. The ship left Dajorra. It could be one of ours. If they don’t reply to our AAF transponder codes, then we can reassess. But if they do, we can just board like normal. And not stab anyone with anything.”

Seafoam eyes slanted significantly at both her passengers then.

Foxen grunted, the charge disappearing into his backpack, which she knew was all the concession she was going to get. Minnie sighed and went for her comms array. The larger Nautolan began pacing again, datapad reappearing in hand as he typed away. More messages unread and calls unanswered. More checks on the biosigns of the dot.

-

Fortunately, Minnie’s codes were met with correct correspondence. Clearance was exchanged, and as she pressed a headset to her ear, she whispered of idents and intentions. When the back and forth was finished, the tiny Nautolan flopped back in her chair for a moment with a groan and dragged her hands down her face.

“You can breathe, Foxxy,” she tried to tell her brother, not expecting for a moment he would unclench. “It is one of ours, and we’re treading on a stealth op. Unsanctioned. Non-military. This is personal. We’re gonna catch shit for this if Uneva Prime gets wind of us, and they’re already wondering how we even followed, but that’s their kark up, not ours, so… we’re gonna dock. All hands aboard. Looks like we’re being read in if we wanna be.” She swiveled around and looked at Savi. “Not sure what they’re paying, tho. Sorry.”

Fingers snapped, Minnow. Go.

Minnie huffed, assuring, “I’m going, I’m going.”

In short order the two ships aligned, and docking procedures implemented. The tube was barely finished sealing before Foxen was barreling down it, frost touching on his palms in flashburns from the void-cold surface of the hatch of the cargo hauler that he pressed against. When it opened with another hiss, the massive man wedged himself through and was off.

Supply crates were shoved aside as if thrown, figures and items assessed and dismissed. Object, category: Mirialan, female, roughly 2 m crossed his path in motion towards a penned animal of massive stature. Object, category: Mirialan was bulldozed aside. Red eyes searched, frantic, for sunset–

A large bat. Drakor.

Look down.

There.

Home.

The legs malfunction. For 2.7 seconds, a state of gelatin is achieved. The diaphragm siezes.

- Then he is moving again. More things in the way are not in the way anymore. He crosses the bay at maximum speed. It is not a fast walk. It is a sprint, shoulder lowered and chin tucked for ramming if necessary.

At 1 m to close, he slows. His boots make an unpleasant drag. The stomach attempts ejection from arrested momentum. Headtails fly around his face.

Carefully.

Carefully, he steps forward. Two steps. Drops to his knees. Reaches, gently, and touches thumb and forefinger to wrist covered by leather glove with sleeve tucked in.

The eyes assess– he looks. He looks Flyndt up and down, searching for any wounds, bindings, anything at all. But there is only some shock of arrival and proximity, lifted feathers. A coo.

His other hand lifts, and it is shaking. But the body is still now. Respiration and heart rate returning to baseline. Contact reestablished. Target acquired. Mission accomplished. FlyndtFlyndtIwassofrakingworriedgoddanmitwhydidntyouanswer–

He asks, O.K?

Sagitta snapped out of her meditation as it seems there was another ship and an exchange process. Confused, Sagitta made sure to stay away from the doors and stood by Flyndt and Tajga. She doesn’t know why but she felt pretty protective of Tajga. Was it because she’s young? Sagitta frowned behind her helmet.

Without warning, supply crates were shoved away as it made her tense and on guard. “What the-” This wasn’t the first time seeing a beast, a massive beast, mind you, with sharp teeth. The sheer fact of intensity he was radiating made her muscles tense. With the Nautolan being so massive, he made to his target easily and flung her aside like she was a gnat. Instinctively, she curled up and her hands over her head to protect her neck and avoid head injuries. The streak of black and purple was sent hurling toward Doon.

*AGAIN*

<@160141735354171394>

Foxen cleared the way and Savran followed suit, walking with one hand tucked into their pocket while the other kept a firm, yet relaxed grip on their vibroknife. Although the circumstances weren’t ideal, they’d be lying if they said they didn’t like seeing that behemoth move the way he had. All that muscle flexing in all the right places. A slender, forked tongue flicked out from between two onyx-tattooed lips to taste air he left in his wake. At this point, the Shani wasn’t sure if they wanted to eat him or jump his bones. Maybe both, in reverse order. But those thoughts would have to wait, for now. They had a mission to complete.

Savi took stock of all the details they could while traversing the corridor, which was now in disarray thanks to the Nautolan’s frantic charge. The smell of animals, multiple animals and the heat they exuded, touched their senses well before they saw them. So did the group of people onboard this new vessel. After catching up with Foxen, Savi lingered in the back, closer to the entrance from whence they’d come. And that’s where they would remain should they have to make a hasty exit.

Slitted amber eyes regarded each person gathered there, lingering on a familiar Mirialan a little longer before settling on the Omwati. So, this was the person that all the fuss was about. They certainly didn’t seem like they were in any danger. What Savi did notice, though, was the bird and Foxen looked at each other. Were they an item?

After Tajga’s farther explaination, Flyndt was not sure anymore what to expect. So, he will try what he can, use what he knows. Try.

He promised.

He promised…

Red crimson feathers flared up, a sharp jolt lashing across his senses making its way down his throat to writhe in his stomach. His breath upticked as his head shot up, eyes glancing around the ship for some danger incoming. The red Zabrak woman leaned against the other side of the hull, others mulled about waiting. The animals stirred impatient with confinement. And a green-skinned mandalorian walked towards them.

Thump thump, thump thump–

His heartbeat quickened, palms ice cold as one quietly shifted behind his back and curled around the thin hilt of a throwing knife. This woman had not seemed threatening earlier but–

Danger, unsecure, threats, wrong, wrong, something’s wrong–

Then the armored woman approaching was no longer, and his diaphragm seized.

Foxen

Sunset irises met sanguine orbs, following the man as he stepped forward and knelt down in front of him, took his wrist – the one that had fallen away from the small of his back, empty.

Hoo.

It was only in that moment as the horned Nautolan’s shoulders sagged and their breathing – their breathing – both slowed, that the jolt, how his body reacted, was not a warning to be heeded. It was Foxen’s aura he had sensed, emotions the Omwati had felt.

Because he broke their promise.

He also noticed, “Your hands are cold…”

Flyndt frowned, his crest lowering as an apologetic look passed his face. He signed those two letters back twice, assuring, before even speaking.

“I am sorry.”

Foxen let go at hands are cold, already signing an apology of his own, brushing hand down light armor of his chest. He exhaled hard for the confirmation, all he needed in that moment.

O.K.

Okay.

Not wanting to touch with cold hands, but needing the contact, he gripped sleeve gently with one hand instead, gestured with the other, mouthing along to the words, You’re OK. Don’t care. You’re OK. What matters. Forgiven. A pause, and then greater emphasis, a cough in his throat, cracking on syllables, “Ffn–tt.”

Slowly other information noted in his awareness actually began to register from the subconscious. There was a Shistavanen 0.5 m away from them, having been close to Flyndt. There were other quantities: Mirialan female, Mandalorian; Shistavanen male, massive, half blind – Karran cosplay, something hysterical and Minnie-sounding giggled in his head – and catching Mirialan; Savran, having followed; Zabrak female, likely mercenary; that was a fraking tree; another Shistavanen; many animals.

The body resumes sweating at those. He focuses on Flyndt and Drakor. Home and Thing That Makes Home Happy. Even if it was a horrible giant fraking bat. Flyndt said trust. So. Okay.

His hand does not want to let go of Flyndt’s sleeve, so he doesn’t. He just says, I’m here. What is mission?

Once more, the black shistavanen caught the cannonballing Sagitta. He gave her a look, one that read suppressed amusement as he sat her back down. Doon regarded the others that had gathered with his golden gaze before speaking a tad short. “Nearly everyone here then? We have some general items to go over.” As he spoke, he pulled a hood over his marred ears, it did little to hide his scarred snout, and felt strange to wear, but he deemed it necessary.

A short small trill escaped him not at the partial disengagement he did not want, but at the attempt. At his name. Flyndt hung off those syllables, replaying and filing them away to save. His feathers raising briefly.

It took him a moment to note Foxen’s scanning eye, to catch his gaze on the creatures. No, don’t worry about them, he wanted to say but held his tongue and focused on the question.

“This is Tajga,” Flyndt gestured to the Shistavanen beside him with a nod to her. “This is Foxen, Tajga.”

Normally, the Omwati would wait and let the man introduce himself, but unsure if the girl would be startled by Foxen’s approach he took it up on himself this once. A gruff voice across the way, the large black Shistavanen now next to the mando woman, spoke up. Flyndt gave a deeper hrmm than his own tones, and nodded once before looking back to the Nautolan.

“Her family is in trouble.” Pause. That said way more than words needed to be spoken between them. But he continued. Mission info. “Her father and a Jordi. There is a camp in forest. But something else…” Flyndt glanced to Tajga, still uncertain about this bit of info, “a ‘she’ that is large and can be dangerous? But…not maybe?”

The Omwati shifted his weight and resisted the urge to ruffle his own feathers. This felt eerily too similar to his own adventure from home and the absolute lack of information then. Self-consciousness was high.

“Hrm,” Foxen grunted, nodding once firmly and adding, Good debrief. Thank you. It wasn’t exactly ideal or expansive intel, but it was mission. Whoever was running this could potentially provide more insight.

Looking to the Tagja, he considered, listening for any other contributions.

The aimless strumming of a hallikset among the beasts aboard the ship came to a stop. From the other side of all the animals, another Shistavanen emerged, this one spotted with a dark face and her instrument still in hand. “Hey, what the hell’s all the commotion?” Kathka asked.

As if there weren’t enough strangers to get acquainted with already, apparently more had docked with them. A part of her wondered if she’d missed a line in the briefing about reinforcements on intercept, but given the hugfest going on, it was more than likely just another day with these Arcona folks. Who else would just show up unannounced in middle of fracking space halfway to a mission? Before coming here, no one; now, every other person, at least. And here she’d been, hoping for as few surprises as possible while off to the Uvena System, of all places. Already off to a great start.

Kathka turned toward Doon, towering over the others present. “We’re gonna need a bigger ship if anyone else shows up,” she said up to him.

Doon chuffed and shook his head, watching the others speak and gather. He eyed the little Tajga as he crossed his arms over his chest. Whatever nerves he had about returning to Uvena, Kathka’s presence aided in soothing them. It had been a while since they were together on a mission, and the Black Wolf had begun to miss it. “We may need a larger ship in any matter..” He responds under his breath in their native tongue, mind wandering to the thoughts of Uvena. He decided to give everyone just a little longer to settle down.

The familiar sound of a string instrument at play pulled Savran’s attention away from the other strangers. To their surprise, it was a Shistavanen femme holding a hallikset. Curious. They had only seen the instrument played during live concerts decades ago, so it made them wonder where this woman got theirs and where they learned to play it. Moving across the metal corridor with a confident stroll, Savran placed their knife into their thigh sheath and gestured with that same hand to Kathka’s instrument while tucking their other hand into their pocket.

“Hey, that’s a hallikset, isn’t it?” they began, “I haven’t seen one in … well, ages. Nice to see that someone appreciates vintage instruments.”

A pleasantly surprised grin tilted crookedly up Kathka’s resting sly expression. “It is. It’s a bit old, yeah, but it still plays.” She gently shifted it back into position and plucked each of its seven strings in demonstration.

Their feathers shivered at the metallic twang produced when she plucked the hallikset’s strings. It’d been so long since they heard that delightfully rustic sound. Savran gestured with the same outstretched hand for Kathka to continue, allowing the sound to transport them back to their travels decades prior - where the captivating tunes of an elderly Duros who played the same instrument helped make those long journeys between systems a little bit easier.

“Not that many people these days know how to play that,” Savi noted, swaying unconsciously to the lovely sound. “What’s your name?”

“Kathka. Torgrim.” She reached her strumming hand out for a shake. “I learned from my father, who learned from his. Traditions live a little longer around the Uvena System than most other places.”

Narrow bands of black floating amidst two seas of amber widened as Savran looked the Shistavanen over, considering the gesture they offered. Although they normally forwent handshakes in favor of a quick nod, they decided that Kathka had impressed them enough to warrant an exception. A hand the color of burnt sienna with tattoos the color of pitch extended to shake hers with a firm grip. “Savran Has,” they said, their tone a bit livelier than before, “But my friends call me Savi.” Friends was a loose term because all of their relationships were transactional to some degree, but there were a few whose company they genuinely enjoyed. They wondered what category Kathka would fall into.

“I’m a little jealous,” they admitted, maintaining an unwavering amount of eye contact that tended to make people uncomfortable–at least, that’s what Severin had told her. “What are the chances I can pay you to give me lessons sometime? Assuming we don’t all die on this mission, of course.”

Home, the Tajga said.

Mission: rescue? Two targets. Possible location: forest camp. Threat: “trouble,” unknown. Additional female asset, status unknown. Intelligence insufficient.

Sub mission: obtain intel. Perimeter check. Clear landing zone.

Going to sweep L-Z, Foxen informed Flyndt, then made his hand release the Omwati’s sleeve and stood. He drew one sidearm and made for the exit, keenly aware of the position of each animal enclosure and figure he passed.

The air was humid and hot. Grasses thick. Nearby body of water, nearby village, fenced in wooden stakes of the kind to prevent large creature or humanoid intrusions.

Animals: too fraking many.

Is that a kid in a fraking tree playing with the thing.

“Hrm,” the Nautolan growled, pivoting slowly to sweep sightlines, searching for additional threats besides category: animals. Outpost structure on village exterior. Two sentries. Shistavanen. Watching. He stares back.

“We’ll see about it,” Kathka said with a grin to this Savi.

Her eyes were drawn toward the windows, however. She stepped toward the nearest one, taking in the view - something as grounding as it was a lifting feeling in her chest. A Shistavanen settlement in Uvena was a bittersweet sight, to say the least.

Once the shuttle touched down, she hoisted her instrument over her shoulder by its strap. “The rest of my gear’s back with my animals. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Again. She landed on something soft and hard but wearing her armor, she couldn’t tell who it was. That was until familiar arms helped her back down as she smiled at him. “Thank you, Doon. Sorry this keeps happening, I just seem to have that kind of luck, huh?” The Mirialan gently laughed as it seems like he wanted to go over some things as she glanced around. Everyone else was distracted and her cheeks puffed slightly at seeing Foxen. There was no apology or anything. Yet… the way that brute of a man moved so gently towards the bird, she guessed there was history there.

She heard a voice as she looked over to Doon’s side. Sagitta snorted, “You’re not wrong… I’m worried about Stomps,” She nodded her head to where the creatures are, “Had her since she was young. And… this is her first flight in years.” Sagitta grimaced, hoping her Stomps were doing okay. Her eyebrow rose when Doon responded in an unknown language. She decided he had a reason to do so. Another familiar face approached as she groaned loudly but not loud enough for Savi to catch. Great. Out of everywhere in the massive universe, Savi had to be here.

As a saving grace, the ship landed. “Yes! I’m going to get Stomps!” With that, she slipped her helmet on and made her way over to Stomps. Her pink irises can see that Stomps was perfectly fine and let out a soft grumbling bellow at her. “Awwww! Did you miss me? Did you do so well? Yes you did! Yesssss you did! You did so gooooooood!” Stomps lowered it’s head as Sagitta scratches all over gently, “You’re such a good girl! I’m so prrroooud my sweet baby!” Sagitta coos as she gave Stomps few more scratches before gently taking the rein. “How about we get some fresh air? Hmm?” With that she leads Stomps out of the ship.

Vreva watched the two groups meet with interest, sizing them up. The large Nautolan and Shistavanen both looked like they’d seen plenty of fights before. No doubt the Shani could hold her own as well. She nodded in greeting but said nothing as they touched down.

As she watched their approach through the window, she retrieved a small datapad from her pocket. A click sounded as she recorded a memento for the animal nut back in Estle City. Luka would have loved to see this. If they weren’t already out in another system, they’d have certainly been a better choice for this.

But they had her instead. Not the best with critters, but if anything needed hitting, she could hit hard.

When the Nautolan exited the ship with weapon drawn, Vreva followed suit. She seemed to wander more aimlessly, taking in the sights as well. “Doesn’t seem like your first rodeo,” Vreva said to the Nautolan as he secured the perimeter. “Been out this way before?”

Savi replied with a toothy grin of their own before moving to look through one of the ship’s windows as they landed, the rumbling felt outside having caught their attention. So, this was Uvena Prime? They hadn’t heard anything about it prior to this, which was shocking given how beautiful it was. After examining the unusual fauna that grazed not too far from where the ship had landed, Savi nodded to Kathka before making her way toward the ship’s exit ramp.

They passed Sagitta after exiting and folded their arms in front of their chest while eyeing her and her mount. “It’s a little rude, you know,” they said, “not acknowledging someone you know. And here I thought that we were becoming such fast friends on our last mission together.”

Foxen’s head barely turned, keeping the Shistavanen guards in sightlines. He grunted at the Zabrak merc and nodded sharply once.

Ugh, team work. Unknown quantities. Communication was going to be a bitch and a half. He’d either be down a hand trying to type – mission detriment, enemy unknown, threat unknown, full focus critical – or needing Flyndt to translate for him, and that would compromise Flyndt’s attention.

Inefficient, suboptimal.

However: she had a bigger gun than either of his. With all these huge fraking animals around, he was going to need it.

He took out the stupid datapad and fumbled inefficiently with one hand while the other kept his gun ready and aimed at the ground, eyes clocking between: perimeter, tree line, guards, creatures, ship. His thumb stretched typing blind, swiping out of Flyndt’s contact with 99 missed notifications and to a fresh screen. Punctuation was sacrificed. He held it out for the merc.

Uneva Prime not this planetoid. Shistavanens insular.Political complications. Mission status:undocumented, stealth. Not relevant tocurrent mission. Current parametersinsufficient Intel required.

Do you know anything about this job an d can I use your rifle

She looked around carefully as she stepped out. There was a wooden fence with sharp ends and two glaring guards at the entrance. Or what she assumes to be an entrance. Sagitta also looked at the forest around them to see if there was anything unnoticeable or off. Stomps grumbled softly and nudged her shoulder as Sagitta rose a hand to give Stomps a few scratchies at her face. Sagitta felt worried. Really worried. She doesn’t want anything to happen to any of them or Stomps for that matter.

‘It’s a little rude, you know,’ Sagitta sighed as her shoulders followed. She listened to the rest that Savi had to say. The Mandalorian turned to face her. “My apologies,” Sagitta started as Stomps rose its neck. Sagitta gently patted Stomps’ neck. “Thought you were busy trying to pick your next meal,” she joked, “What are you doing here?” She asked Savi, feeling protective of her team. It wasn’t like Savi to do this sort of operation or mission.

A fleeting smile appeared on Savi’s face when Sagitta apologized, and they responded with a quick wave of the hand to dismiss her concerns. “I’ll forgive you this time,” they said while averting their gaze to do a brief scan of their surroundings. Lots of large animals, two sentries posted on the wooden wall; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Once they were sure that there was nothing else that demanded their attention, Savran allowed their gaze to settle on the Mirialan again.

“Well, that’s question has an amusing answer,” they began, “There I was, being escorted by my Xuber flyer to my cantina of choice–cute little yellow Nautolan, by the way. A little talkative for my taste, but her vibes were good.”

They paused for a moment to add a bit of space in her story. “The next thing I know, she tells me that they need to detour to rescue the Omwati over there. And now I’m here.”

Home.

Flyndt looked up and glanced out the window Tajga was staring out, taking in the masses of creatures and open land. It reminded him so much of…home, of herds migrating across the steppes, grass and mountains in the far distance. He exhaled a sigh and brushed the pang aside before pulled himself away to read Foxen.

Going to sweep L-Z.

L-Z, landing zone. He remembered. He wanted to go with, sweep along, but…his gaze flicked to the Keeradak onboard. Feathers ruffled as he begrudgingly nodded, adding a quick with you soon.

Flyndt watched Foxen leave before giving Tajga a light smile and making his way to his even larger friend.

“Drakor,” he whispered, redirecting the winged creature’s attention from the paddy frog by the girl. The beast lowered his head to peer on level with the small man, a leather clad hand reaching up and brushing its face gently. Two swift steps and the Force laced through his muscles, Flyndt vaulted himself up onto the Keeradak, one foot lighting on the creature’s elbow and a hand catching his shoulder. Hoisting himself up the rest the way, he soon nestled onto Drakor’s neck and stared at the open hatch.

Would Drakor take off flying? Try to hunt the creatures? Would he take off and not return?

He was absolutely uncertain.

Inhale…exhale.

As soon as the Ronto was clear and the door empty fo a moment, Flyndt willed Drakor forward. The massive flying beast scratched and scrabbled to get out, even scrambling up on the walls and ceiling to evade colliding with someone. .

“Enel…tata…min…”

Flyndt counted under his breath in his native tongue. He felt the large leathery wings start to unfurl – now!

Switching to grasp one horn with both hands, the Omwati kicked off the beast, arching up and over the large head – sunset eyes locking on one crimson orb as big as his head nearly– and touched sandals to grass. Drakor’s head followed suit as the beast dropped mid leap, his mass shuffling with a stuttered step. It was by no force of the avian’s doing, seeming somewhat surprised his rider had dismounted. Drakor hoovered and stared.

Flyndt meanwhile was shocked that his plan had…worked? The Keeradak had halted. He gestured to the beast. “Stay here. Please?”

He waited a moment to see if Drakor would need any of that a series of low clicks met his request but he did eventually settle into a prone position, waiting. A sigh of relief. Flyndt turned his attention to finding where Foxen went, scanning the surrounding group.

Vreva raised an eyebrow as the Nautolan typed out his message. This mission would certainly be tricky with her inability to communicate.

She scoffed at the request. “If I go down, you’re welcome to it. Not before. She’s my baby.” She thumbed the strap and shifted her weight to one side, hand on her hip. “Not sure about any details besides someone’s gone missing and they needed muscle. The Omwati probably knows more. They’ve been chattering with the kid. There they are.” She waved over to them as they approached.

Foxen nodded to the comment about the weapon’s preciousness – not that her request would be honored, should needs must, but he could understand it – and snorted at the last.

As if he ever wasn’t aware of where Flyndt was.

Except when he disappeared from the system with barely an explanation.

He didn’t bother explaining what Flyndt had already told him. Insufficient use of time. The datapad was stowed again, and the Nautolan hybrid watched his bird emerge atop Drakon like the Mandalore themselves on the backs of conquering mythosaurs. His nostrils flared, a rumble mmm in his chest, eyes tracking every movement as the Omwati dismounted, tamed the beast, and proceeded their way.

Status: 300% improved with Flyndt by his side, mission difficulty be damned. His spine straightened, shoulders squared, previous panic: dismissed. He had his partner and mission.

Guards there, he informed, pointing at the outpost. Then, the tree, and waterways. Kid over there playing with the fraking things. Likely defensive population. Animals. Watch my back?

Gaze scanning among the hastily assembled team, the Omwati paused as he felt as if a couple eyes on him – well more than a couple with that exit but these ones were intense, unsettling. He assumed one was Foxen, the other…his head swiveled to lock upon another feather tufted individual.

Another Omwati?

His heart quickened as he watched this stranger talking to the mandolorian woman, the corners of their mouths parting a little farther than their lips briefly. The slits of their eyes sharp even from a few short meters away.

…No…no, no…

“Puhta…” Flyndt cursed breathlessly as he tuck a step back with widened eyes, shock and fear leaching into his blank expression. Spinning on his heels, the crimson feathers loose from his leather tie flaring full, Flyndt briskly made his way with his head down towards where he could feel Foxen, trying to will his body to calm down. Breathe. Focus. Breathe – baddangerwhere'sTajgafrackshitFoxenBap–Breath

When the Omwati halted next to the Nautolan and the female Zabrak, his breahting was still shallow and his ears ringing. It took him a moment to notice hands speaking, talking to him, and just shook his head slightly, apologetically.

“I am sorry…what? Yes, here, have back,” he frowned.

Vreva frowned when she looked to the Omwati. They seemed a lot less confident than they had charged out with on the Keeradak. “You alright, kiddo? What’s got your feathers in a twist? You see something?”

Doon’s throat rumbled with a growl as people began leaving the shuttle. He stood straight and shouted. “Everyone! Anyone not familiar with Shistavanen culture, listen.” He took a few steps forward himself to ensure that even if people don’t turn around and walk towards him they’d still hear. “Shistavanen are conservative. They dislike outsiders. Don’t do anything to give them more reason to distrust you. And while we are here, refer to me only as Dovak. Nothing else.” The growl in his voice fell quiet as he said what he needed to. He eyes the strangers amongst them warily, they appeared to be mostly in their own world

He was already watching Flyndt – always, always – and so saw instantly, pride evaporating and alertness replacing it full force, when the Omwati became frightened.

Step back, olive goodgreenwater complex pale to sick chartreuse, visible upset. Feathers at full panic alert bigger danger flare. Head down. Walk-running to his side.

Every atom of the Nautolan’s body screamed to curl around the Omwati, tuck him against chest, and proceed to kill every*thing* around them. It was not, however, productive.

Determine source of fear. Animals: a joy to him, unlikely. Mercenaries: high possibility, but he had been on the ship with all of them already. Sunset eyes had been on Savran Has codename: Tekuani. New factor. Predatory. Reasonable fear, even if reaction extreme distress.

Why?

Ask later. Tend now.

The Nautolan pivoted, placing his entire self between the Shani and Flyndt, crouching slightly and hunching. It was not difficult to obscure sightlines with his frame over the Omwati’s – the one boon to that nightmare. He took Flyndt’s gloved hand full this time, applying just enough pressure. He ignored Vreva and the shouting back up the ramp. Sanguine eyes stared until sunset met them as he clicked and rumbled, using his free hand to knock on his bracer.

Clangclang. I’m here. I’m here.

Head tilting, he asked with spare hand after the knock, repeating it slowly in case of shock-inattention, Danger. Do you want me to kill them?

Flyndt’s panic did shift and quelled as his hand was taken and the clang of metal struck garnered his attention. He did not trill back in response though. No, his breath hitched one last time as his brow furrowed, his arm shifted to pull away. Agitated hands answering sharply, even at the slower pace, and he shook his head with a clack of his beak behind his pursed lips. No. O.K. Fine, leave be.

He asked for the Nautolan to repeat himself. They had a mission. Do not ask, please. Repeat.

The Omwati shifted his weight and glanced to the Zabrak, giving her the barest forced smile. “Nothing. All is fine. Look,” he jutted his tattooed chin towards the large black Shistavanen, noting his words. Dovak, well Flyndt did not know him as anything else so no issues there. Adequete distraction. “Tread careful he says.”

Inhale, exhale.

“I am Flyndt, you?” He asked of the Zabrak, passing a small sidelong look to Foxen.

No. Leave be.

Foxen rose and retreated 1 m, having let go immediately when arm pulled away.

There were emotions in the chest. They were shaped like: you’re not objectively not fine, not OK, Flyndt, please, don’t shut me out.

He suffocated them in 30.6 seconds. Too long, but task accomplished. Flyndt said no. Leave be. Okay. Confirm. Affirmative.

He would trust his back to Flyndt and investigate the child. He would–

Shouting. Guards engaging. Intercept threat, assess.

Inventory note: ear pulling Shistavanens, effective target.

Assessing.

The Tajga child made her own intercept course. Then the animals. He moved 2 m away from those, still maintaining 1 m distance from Flyndt – leave be – but within reach of reaction should the animals attack. His pistol remained ready, idle. He watched.

Sagitta smiled behind her helmet at Savi forgiving her ‘this time.’ Her eyebrow rose when Savi started to explain how they came here. Cute yellow Nautolan. Could it be? That cute female she met once before she got drunk? Nah. The Universe couldn’t be that small.

That the Omwati needed rescuing. Now she was confused. She looked around the ship before and had seen the Omwati – in fact, that’s why she got cannonballed – and he didn’t seem to be in any distress like a kidnapped individual. “He… didn’t seem like that he needed to be rescued…” Sagitta was confused while looking over where the massive Nautolan was with the Omwati.

Then came a shout. Her head turned to face Doon. Maybe she should take off her armor? Make it seem like she’s more friendly than an enemy. Dovak? Now she had questions. Before she could ask, Stomps bellowed and took a few steps back in fear as Sagitta was caught off guard, “Whoa! Whoa, sweetie!”

‘Stay where you are!’

Frak. Sagitta quietened down as she gently released Stomps reins and her hands went to her side. Her muscles were tight and at the ready.

‘Especially anyone like you!’ They pointed at her. And another female in the group. Well. Sagitta has been shot before. What’s another hit?

An elder-looking Shistavanen had umped off of Falumpaset and grabbed them by the ears as Sagitta mentally winced. She was grabbed by the ear before and that was not fun. After a few words were exchanged, she sighed with relief and relaxed her hand that was reaching for her pistol.

Sagitta smiled at seeing Tajga running up and hugging the elder woman and her heart sank. Unable to watch them anymore, instead, she gently grasped Stomps reins and gave Stomps pats on the side of their neck while keeping an eye on her surroundings.

Sagitta noticed the happabore. She glanced at Stomps. “Stay here, Stomps.” Letting go of the rein, she approached the happabore, “Aw sweetie,” she coos, “It’s okay, hi there, will you let me pet you?” She carefully approaches it. She could feel the hot breath from its large snout through her gloved hand. Gently and tenderly, she ran her fingers over and goes to give them scratches.

“Yea? Do you like these scritchies? I give good scritchies!” She laughed softly while keeping an eye on it’s body language to figure out where it’s favorite spot to be scratched and least favorite. “You are so cute! I need to know more about you! I should ask the little one your name hmm?”

When the largest of the Shistavanen, and people in general, lifted his voice to address the group, Savran shifted their attention to listen to what he had to say. So, they were conservative in nature with a not-at-all-healthy amount of xenophobia. Lovely. Luckily, Savran was accustomed to carefully navigating interactions with foreign species who had decided that they had reason to mistrust them. Par for the course.

Savi shrugged their shoulders when Sagitta expressed doubt over the notion that the Omwati was in distressed. “Tell me about it,” they said, glancing over in Foxen and Omwati’s direction to look them over. There seemed to be some tension there but they couldn’t tease out what exactly was happening with the two of them.

Stay where you are!

That certainly caught Savran’s attention, causing their feathers to quake–a subconscious responsive to a potential threat. Savran didn’t like threats.

A tattooed hand shifted to the hilt of one of their vibroswords forthwith, ready to use it to open some bellies with an ultra-sharp quadranium blade if they stepped any closer. What was already a wild mane of feathers spread out even further to form what resembled the frill of some lizards, and shook violently as the Shistavanen guards continued their shouting.

This Shani threat display continued until the two elderly Shistavanen reprimanded the two guards and began to address the group. Savran’s head feathers slowly flattened against their skull as they scrutinized the two elders. Although their body’s involuntary reaction to the guards’ unwarranted aggression dwindled, Savran’s grip on their vibrosword remained.

With the jumpiest of crewmates acclimating and tense introductions with the locals out of the way, Kathka tugged on Mong’s reigns to urge her out of the vessel. The varactyl had stiffened at the shouting, but as soon as the pull was felt, she stepped forward and down the ramp without a fuss. Glad darted out like the proud anooba he was and struck a pose in front of them. They brought up the back of the crew, where Kathka was content to stay for the time being.

Now that the shouting guards were out of the way and the crew could get down to business, Kathka climbed onto Mong’s saddle to settle in. Her little fluff orb, Attie, was clawing his way around the cantle when she hoisted her leg over, and the voorpak promptly grabbed hold of her pantleg to skitter up to her shoulder. Kathka nudged him inward, and he gladly took refuge in the hood of her poncho instead.

It wasn’t every day that her animals got to interact with so many more. A part of Kathka hoped they wouldn’t all be coming along, else this hunt could likely get a bit messy. Still, it seemed some of the creatures were attached to her crewmates, and for that, she simply wished for her own animals to play nice. They’d already been a bit tense with so many bodies in the ship, and it looked like Glad was ready to snap at the next thing that stepped near his space.

“Easy now, Gladitusk,” she said to the anooba in front of them. The creature huffed but loosened, and Kathka turned her attention toward Doon to wait for their next move. Dovak it was, for now.

“Vrev-” she got out before the black Shista’s urgent tone caught her attention. It had barely registered what he had shouted over the group when they were snarled at from the other side by two others. Her first instinct in response to the shouts had been to go for her pistol. Thankfully the older Shistavanen had intervened before things got messy.

The Zabrak’s hand relaxed, though it still rested at her belt. “Shouldn’t have lifted the airlock, then,” Vreva scoffed under her breath as she turned to look over this ‘Dovak’. Lip curled, she replied to Flyndt. “Name’s Vreva. Pleased.” She didn’t sound it as she moved in towards the Shistavanen.

“Y'know, would have been a good warning before touching down that nobody liked us being here, Dovak.” She kicked a rock, sending it skittering. “Glad the mixup has been smoothed out, though. Take it you got more details on what we’re doing here?”

Doon sighed, the younger Shista’s causing a near bristling of weapons was not good. But they had little business coming out to instigate anyway. He stepped down from the ramp and raised his large paw towards the older woman in greeting. “Dovak, here. I will be with you momentarily.” he continued his path down the ramp, gently patting Gladitusk as he passed. Everyone else he gave a look, and occasional. “Easy. No weapons are needed.”

As he approached the older woman he nodded up towards her. “You are Clar?”

To that she nodded and waved him closer. “Joins us. Everyones. We have meats and waters for companions.” She cast her gaze at the variety of animals the Arconans brought with them. “I will shows.” She lifted Tajga onto her mount as she guided it to turning around.

As She lead the way into the walls of the village, she glanced back at Doon. “Archian leaves us a recording. For Dovak only.” a hand slipped into her clothes and produced a holographic recorder which was quickly tossed to the one eyed Shista. “Take cares of?”

Doon caught the recorder and gave it a once over as they walked.

The inside of the village smelled of smoke and Borcatu meat, the source of which was seen hanging in various stages of preservation and consumption in the main throughway. Just at the entrance of the village was an older shistavanen, the male who had backed Clar up in scolding the younger guards. He seemed to be behind a cart laden with supplies, and was having a bit of trouble pushing it. He paused in his attempt, only to give Clar a smile and nod before hurriedly going back to struggling.

The Main road into the village ended at a common gathering area. Off of which were two larger structures that resembled temples. One hosted a red Droplet as it’s insignia next to a borded door and windows. The second had a cluster of Neutral colored Shista’s gathered around, digging deep into the earth. This main area is where Clar stopped, pointing to an empty area where it looked like animals would be stored. “Foods and waters there for companions. We Will take cares of them, if left.‘”

Doon stopped as well, gazing around the town in no small wonderment. It wasn’t an extraordinary place, but it was Shistavanen. That was enough to keep his attention on the village as everyone got settled.

The familiar Shistavanen architecture and general feeling in the air gave a nostalgic lift in Kathka’s chest, yet the further in they went, the more she felt her muscles tense. She caught a racing thought and had to remind herself, home was still far, far away. It didn’t help her loosen up, either way.

From the back of the group, Kathka turned toward the space offered for all the animals. Anywhere else, she might have taken up that offer. Her grip on Mong’s reigns only tightened.

She caught herself staring and lightly shook her head. “Thanks, but… Mine will stay with me,” she said firmly. One hand released the reigns a moment to rub the varactyl’s back. “They won’t be any trouble.”

It seemed that everyone was tense and their emotions were rather bitter to the situation. This made the Mandalorian worried if they would be able to work together. There’s a fine line between being prepared and rather jumpy. Dovak mentioned no weapons are needed as she can’t help but think how she had one aimed at her earlier and the Zabrak. No matter. Her attention was stolen by the adorable happabore.

Her smile beamed from cheek to cheek as the Happabore purred at her and plop onto it’s side. “Awww! Did you want some belly ruuuuuubs? Did you want some bellllly ruuubbbs?!” cooed Sagitta as she was happy to give it scratches on its belly. She noticed they were moving the crates out. “Oh right. Okay. Um.” She glanced around for a way to get the Happabore to follow her. Grasping Stomps reins, she calls the Happabore over, “Come on boy, you can do it! Follow me!” She patted her leg in hopes to lure the Happabore. “I’ll give you more scratches! Come on!”

“Let’s go.” She said to Savi as she removed her helmet in hopes that having a face for the villagers to see would help lessen the hate towards her for some reason. Her braided purple hair was free from the confines of the helmet. She gave the happabore more scratches for being such a good boy. “See if you can get the Happabore to go into the area for food and water, please, Savi. And hold onto this, hopefully not wearing it might help with the tension.” She said with a kind smile while handing over the helmet. She leads Stomps toward the male that was struggling with a cart. She held up her hands to show she mean no harm, “May we help?” She asked as she patted Stomps on the side of the neck Stomps lean down her head and headbutted Sagitta on the shoulder causing her to stumble forward a bit as she chuckled softly.

Vreva grumbled under her breath in Zabraki as she was ignored by their newfound leader. As the Shistas moved out, Vreva shouldered her rifle and followed suit with a scowl. She was already not liking the look of this mission, but creds were creds.

She fell in line with Flyndt and the unnamed Nautolan. Though he seemed intense, Vreva trusted that he knew what he was doing.

The red Zabrak watched over the group and kept a sharp eye on the Shistavanens they passed. Though things seemed to have quieted down, she wasn’t convinced. When the Mando split from the group to offer help, Vreva wove through the crowd to keep a better eye on her.

Kathka looked down to Clar and nodded. “Food and rest would be great, for all of us,” Kathka clarified, “as long as I’m still with these ones.” She dismounted the varactyl, reigns still in hand, and gestured for her anooba to follow. To Clar, she lowered her head in a sign of respect, then led her animals toward the resting place.

Although she released Mong’s reins when they arrived, Kathka didn’t step far from her. A quick look back at where Doon had vanished for business told her they might be here a little while. So, out came her hallikset again. While food and water was prepared for Mong and Glad, Kathka sat with her back against the varactyl’s side and began strumming an aimless tune. Attie crawled out and onto the anooba to get his own share of sustenance, leaving her for the moment while she played.

“Hey Savi, you busy?” she called out without looking up.

Savran wasn’t the best with animals. They usually tended to be afraid of them or prone to displays of aggression, which came as no surprise given their more … animalistic nature compared to other near-human species. When the creature Sagitta called a “Happabire” actually heeded their commands, Savi’s made a look of delighted surprise. “Good…boy?” they said in a poor attempt to nimick the way the Mirialan spoke to the animal. They had never had pets before, so this was a foreign territory for them and it showed.

Savran led the creature into the enclosure where the other animals were being given food and water and saw to it that it was provided for, they turned to Kathka when she called them. “Depends on what you need from me,” the Shani said in a lax tone, tucking their hands into their pockets while stepping over to her. “What’s up?”

Kathka turned her head at the answer, continuing to slowly, idly strum away. “How much do you know about playing music, for starters?”

Savran took their place in front of Kathka, sitting on their heels. “To be honest,” they said, watching the Shistavanen’s fingers glide across the hallikset’s neck, “not much. I’ve always been more of a listener, so I only know the basics of music theory. Nothing that would help me if I picked up an instrument, though.”

“Well, we probably can’t get too deep into anything today, then,” Kathka replied with a crooked frown. “But the basics aren’t that hard to explain, I guess.”

She looked down at the hallikset, then held it upright in front of her, wrists loosely around the base of the neck. One claw pointed to the furthest left string.

“Look close, and you’ll see that the strings get thinner, from one side to the other. The thinner the string…” She began plucking them one by one. “…the higher the note. You know how to work just that, and you can already play a song. Following so far?” In demonstration, she began plucking a simple four-note medley between her index claws.

As the group starts getting led into the village, Flyndt passed a look back at Drakor to check on him. The Keeradak raised his head and sat up from where he laid. His crimson gaze hones in on the odd avian, roamed to the wooden structures, and then to the bright sun in the sky. Drakor shook his head, an act that jostled rolls of leathery brown skin along his thick neck, before pivoting and slinking back into the ship. This was no Selen, not his territory, and it was too heckin’ bright.

The Omwati sighed, somewhat relieved the creature had zero interest in this new place, and glanced to Foxen…standing a meter away. Flyndt’s jaw worked, unpleased at the distance. He turned and followed the others, attempting to keep himself close to Tajga and Clar.

The mandalorian lady breaking off to assist the old merchant by the gates caught his attention. He contemplated offering assistance as well, but time felt of the essence and – his gaze flicked to the Shani trying to lead the happabore behind them.

Head forward, mission.

When the group came to rest at a gathering area, offers of food and drink were made. Flyndt however wasn’t paying attention. His crimson feathers raised as he stared after the big black Shistavanen entering one of the huts. Something told him more information was in that building and what little they knew, he could use any knowledge at all.

Sunset eyes flicked towards Foxen briefly and he crossed the distance between them. A light wince of a smile, the Omwati pivoted in a way his hands were hopefully not visible as he signed to the other man.

I’m going to follow, D.O.V.A.K. he spelt out the name, More info, try.

Savran tilted their head at the frown that appeared on Kathka’s face and took note of the particular wording she used. They couldn’t get too deep into their lesson today–a clear implication that subsequent lessons would follow on a later date. Their lips curled into a self-satisfied grin to contrast her frown. “So, you’ve accepted my offer then,” they began. “Good. We can discuss your preferred means of compensation later.”

They returned their attention to the lesson immediately after finishing their sentence, evidently not interested in giving Kathka a chance to deny their offer. After looking the strings over for a moment letting themselves feel the note each string made, Savi nodded. “Understood. What’s next?”

Compensation - a thought to file away for later. The joy of actually playing came first, and it did put a crooked grin back on Kathka’s face.

“So, you might have noticed that it takes two hands to play this thing in full.” Kathka’s left hand slid up the instrument. “This here’s the neck, and all down the neck are these bars - the frets. You press a finger down on a string at a fret…” She squeezed and plucked the leftmost string again to demonstrate. “…the note gets higher. And the further down the neck you go, it gets even higher.” Her finger slid all down the neck, strumming higher notes as it went. “That goes for all seven strings… and that’s the basics.”

Kathka leaned back and hoisted the instrument onto her lap again, tilting it comfortably to play. “Bringing it all together, teaching your fingers to work them all at once - now that’s the tricky part.” She began to play as she spoke, and tilted her head toward her left hand as it fingered the various frets and strings in different patterns.

Tracking Flyndt’s movements, Foxen held still – having followed at 1 m maintained distance – on the Omwati’s approach. One pierced brow quirked as Flyndt angled to hide his hands subtly, and then spoke.

Then the other brow went up too.

Oh ho.

Reconnaissance.

Nice.

Smart, Foxen replied, motions tight to his chest, shifting on his feet so that his headtails casually fell over his shoulder on one side as he shrugged it in a stretch, providing curtain. Another singular advantage to such long bulky appendages. Ghost? I will keep watch. Cover retreat. Create distraction? Meet at water cup. Yes?

A few signs were simpler, replacing: rendezvous, barrel. But the message he was confident was secure.

As Kathka continued to play, Savran watched silently with the same laser focus they employed when on assignment. They gave an occasional nod to show that they were still listening before returning to swaying their head to the rhythm of the music she produced.

“You’re very good at this, Kathka,” they said, “Did it come naturally?”

Kathka smiled at the compliment. “Um… Hard to say. I’ve had a lot of time to practice… But thanks. Glad I can manage something, ‘cause I couldn’t cut it as a singer, not with my voice.”

“That, I do have a bit more experience with,” they said, carefully listening to the rhythm of Kathka’s strumming. When Savi found and opening, they began to hum just loud enough for their voice to carry the notes she played. Normally, they spoke in a middle register, but the notes the Shani produced were noticeably higher.

Stomps snorted at being pulled by someone else but she behaved very well and was happy to do some work at least. Sagitta’s eyebrow rose as she looked around to see what mature lady he was talking about. Sagitta chuckled softly, “Happy to help.” She said with a smile as he started to talk some more. She listened intently. Mountains… two Jawa with sniper rifles, Cave of Fangs…and an explosion. That’s so odd. Why would there be anything going on here? There’s more than they were being told. This worries her. She needed to talk to Dovak about this since he stepped up as a leader. Or talk to Tajga. The problem was there the barrier to communicate with the young one. And she wasn’t sure if she had the heart to bother a child with this.

Then it hit her.

The mature lady he was possibly talking about was Kathka as she coughed suddenly in surprise. “Ah, sorry… swallowed down the wrong tube.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mymir. I really do appreciate it. Let me know if you need any more help, you can borrow Stomps any time!” Sagitta patted Stomps on the neck after untying the reins. They made their way back over while looking around. She noticed Vreva and approached her, “Hey, do you mind please getting that big guy and his…. friend? I have some information that I think everyone needs to know about.” When Vreva agreed, Sagitta smiled at her, “Thank you.”

‘What exactly is going on here, Doon?’ She thought to herself. Doon was the only one she was learning to trust. Savi as well, somewhat. She had met them both. Doon, much more intensely. The others? She started to look around where everyone was while walking Stomps to where the Happabore was. She didn’t want to give the news to them individually, it could cause problems if she played the telephone game. She gave Happabore a few scratches, “Such a good boy,” cooed Sagitta as she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the head. Made sure that Stomps was comfortable as well, she head over to where Kathka and Savi were.

Now she needed to figure out how to relay the information. Shistavanen were known for their hearing and she was hoping that Mymir wouldn’t get in trouble if they know this info. She looked over at Savi and Kathka, “While we wait for Do- Dovak, I have something I need to tell you guys, just need to wait for the others.” Sagitta explained to make sure that Kathka and Savi weren’t just going to up and leave.

The tune at Kathka’s fingers slowed to a stop as Sagitta approached to speak. Her brow arched and her muzzle twitched in thought. “Or we could skip the wait. They all got communicators, right?” she asked, looking back toward Savi.

Without waiting for a reply, she lifted a hand to touch the communicator in her ear. “Hey, group huddle at the stables. Come when you can.”

It seemed that Savi and Kathka had attracted an audience. A small group of Shistavanen had gathered to hear her hallikset playing and their singing, which continued up until Sagitta approached. “Oh?” Savran lifted an eyebrow at the Mirialan. “Something important, I’m guessing?”

Comms. She frackin’ forgot about comms. ‘Smooth, Sagitta, real smooth.’ With a sigh, she brushed her purple hair back and touched the comms, “I received intel from a villager. Two snipers Jawas at the Cave of Fangs and he heard explosions there as well.” Sagitta spoke quickly and clearly, not wanting to ruin the children’s and the elders’ dance.

An interesting development for sur–

Kathka’s ears shot up as the approaching scurrier pulled her attention away in a heartbeat. Poor little fellow was clearly nervous, despite a piqued interest.

Without missing a beat, she returned her fingers to the hallikset’s strings, but she also began to lean sideways along Mong’s hide, tilting further until her shoulder met the ground. With her face near level with the scurrier nearby, she pursed her canine lips and uttered small, high trills toward it, hoping to attract it. Her music continued uninterrupted.

Jawas? The threat that they had to handle were Jawas? Savi moved a hand to their mouth to stifle a chuckle. “Well, if that’s all, then this will be one of my fastest missions yet,” they said.

Thus far, they had only known Jawas to be mischievious little things–nothing to lose sleep over. Spicy, too. Savi didn’t know what Jawas ate, but whatever it was, it definitely carried over into the way they tasted.

“Them having explosives could make things a little difficult, though.”

All plans to ghost into that hut after the Foxen-sized Shistavanen were forgotten when Flyndt turned back around after nodding an affirmative to Foxen. His scanning gaze had halted on a section of the village between a building and a big painted rock. Children, like Tajga or maybe even younger, had gathered around a tree along with one of them large ronto creatures –

And then the tree moved.

And stared at him.

The Omwati stared back, eyes unblinking save for the transparent nictitating membranes occasionally passing over. He did not look away even as the comms buzzed, first to gather and then second time with new intel? The mechanic hum died down, him habitually mimicking the small, short beep of the disconnect.

Crimson feathers raised and fall slowly while he tilted his head to one direction then the next, waiting to see if the tree would move again.

“Mountains, couple Jawa’s – I do not know what that is – seen by a cave of Fangs. Explosions see.” Flyndt relayed for Foxen, assuming his comm was not linked up, and unquestioning how his own was. He reached back and gentle rapped a couple knuckles on Foxen’s forearm before gesturing at what he was staring at.

“Is tree moving, or are my eyes playing tricks on me?”

<@575750161243045889>

Vreva didn’t need prompting to go look for their leader. They needed direction and information, both of which the black Shista was hiding from them. She gave a nod to the Mando and turned to where she had last seen Dovak.

The Scurrier’s antics annoyed her further as it got underfoot. She nearly fell over trying not to step on the thing. “Go on, get!” she snapped before she noticed the creature was ushering them in a direction. Yellow eyes narrowed as she followed the creature’s pointing.

“Hey Dovak! Get your ass out here! We need to have a few words.” No need to go searching for the right tent, and no need for comms. If he was in town, he’d hear her.

Foxen briefly noted the shouting for information the Zabrak was doing some meters away as Flyndt directed his attention to the tree.

Quantity: Zabrak mercenary: efficient, approved.

But the set task was, ‘are eyes playing tricks on me?’ And while the knocking of gloved knuckles on his arm objectively made his brain and stomach flip over, Flyndt was requesting focus, so he set those feelings to ignore and gave it.

Assessing: tree staring back at them. Moving, affirmative. Likelihood given crew composed of presumed Arconan clansmen as well as additional unknowns: high.

Ugh for frak’s sake it was that fraker.

Not a trick, he informed Flyndt, eyes rolling in exasperation. Species: Neti. N-E-T-I. Sentient plant organism. Long lived. Over thousands of years possible. Rare now. There is one in the Clan Arcona. Classification: Force-User. Name: O-O-D. B-N-A-R. Inventory: scientist, sentient experimentation, biological weapons, mental invasion. Affiliation, here he paused, frowning as he realized not only was he using words Flyndt likely wouldn’t know yet, but that Flyndt wouldn’t know what the Shadow Academy even was. They had not discussed it or much of the Brotherhood, nevermind Arcona, at all. Critical gap in intel. He had failed his bird badly. Hissing at himself, the Nautolan continued, Tell you later. Category: danger. Do not trust.

Once he was finished, he waited for some indication of Flyndt’s response before adding:

Possible intel, with a point to indicate the monk that beckoned them.

Flyndt pulled his gaze away to see Foxen’s reply, much of which he did not understand, though he was appreciative of the spelling, repeating and piecing it together under his breath. Despite a good portion going over his head – something it arguably did not do because his reflexes are too fast and he saw all the signs – the avian alien stilled at a few in particular. Danger. Do not trust.

The Omwati glanced one more time towards the Neti for a second, sucking in a breath as he did. He turned back to the Nautolan beside him and nodded. O.K.

“Will tread carefully…” Flyndt paused, his mind wandering back to where he had been clocking the Shani, and chewed on sharing more with Foxen. He shoved the thought aside however, it could risk the mission for Tajga and he would not forgive himself if he got her family killed because of some past quarrels. So, Flyndt refocused, redirecting attention towards the possible intel.

“We go ask?” he nodded.

Foxen regarded Flyndt’s facial expressions and position of feathers intently. Distant gaze after confirmation. Concerning. Where are you right now? he wants to ask, and “/please.. But Flyndt had said: leave be. Consent denied. Okay.

At confirming nod to the monk, Foxen nodded back and pivoted, keeping one ear towards where asset: Zabrak demanded object: Dovak stop fraking around and convey necessary basic intelligence for operation. They would want to hear this. Mission note already made: two Jawas, explosives, location.

Flyndt had not mentioned. Had he noted? It would not be leaving be to ask. Potential to insult attention: high.

They arrive beside the monk and this thought is paused. The hybrid asked, what?

Flyndt repeated the question for him, if with more politeness for an elder: "hoo, hello. You summoned us, yes? What is?”

Foxen stared.

And stared.

Filtered the useful information. Subject, category: poachers. Supposition: likelihood Flyndt would dislike due to abuse of animals and parallels to his people’s history and their own enslavement: extreme.

He glanced to Flyndt. Glanced back.

Intel desired, he said.

Doon Dovak ducked under the entrance to one of the buildings and stepped out into the common area. He adjusted his hood once more, not that it would do much to keep the rest of him concealed. He assessed the nearby Arconans, eying Kathka playing music for a small crowd. His lips curled into his neutral snarly expression as he held a paw up and shouted. “Everyone, we have some intel from Archian. 5 Minutes till the Brief!” He then lowered his arm to cross over his chest as he stood near an open area of the commons, making sure to be in earshot of Kathka’s music.

Flyndt’s brow furrowed. Poachers were not something he cared for, though limited experience he had with them. He recalled sitting at a couple elders’ feet and heard them speak about other Omwati from outside their steppes, taking without care for sustaining the land. And the waste! While carcasses left to rot instead of feeding a whole village.

But…would taking this plea risk the young Shistavanen’s family’s well-being? He glanced towards Tajga and Clar, a torn hum on his lips.

Intel desired.

Apparently Foxen thought this was still worthwhile knowledge, Flyndt relayed his interest, adding a bit to it himself to the Monk. “We want to know. Does this seem related to missing people? Cave of fangs?”

He looked away to Dovak’s shouting, noting that if this proves a dead lead that some more answers were to be had. Even if he wanted to go now.

Claws and Fangs, Jawas and more. Mead and ears? Flyndt was not sure what everything meant but was garnering that there was a big group of folks oppressing the area it seemed.

“Hrmm, okay, yes what is favor needed?”

Slowly the tree began to move again as it kept observing the people near it. As it moved, it seemed to slowly pull parts of itself in. Some branches moved and weaved together to form limbs as the ones not used for this began to seemingly fold up and join the trunk into forming a chest. Slowly but surely an androgynous figure began to form.

Once he’d fully retaken his humanoid shape, Ood smiled gently and bent down to retrieve a sealed package from the hole where his roots sat.

Mindless of any discomfort, the Neti calmly started getting dressed. Checking his saber for potential damage before clipping it to his belt.

“Well now, that was a relaxing meditation. Hmm, new people, yet the Force tells me you’re Arconans.” It’d been a strange consequence of the old days of Clan Arcona. The first thing any arconan learned was to be loyal to the clan and this exuded a strange marking in the Force. It had probably saved countless lives from his dark madness in the past.

“I am Ood Bnar, of the Jedi Order, at your service.” An indulgent bow-like gesture followed. It felt like some form of ancient, long forgotten decorum if only due to its accompagnying words.

Although Kathka heard Doon’s order, she didn’t react quite yet. It seemed she was making progress with the scurrier. A giggle escaped her as it seemed to take enough of an interest to approach her.

“Hey little fella,” she said lightly. Her music slowed to the basest of notes as she pulled her hand off the instrument’s neck and reached out to the small animal. Another inviting trill was made as one finger extended its way, offering a perch. “Don’t be shhhuh– What the fffrack?”

Her attention moved past the creature, much further back. That tree, nearby. It was moving. No, it was turning into a person. Something between alert concern and morbid fascination overtook Kathka’s features as she stared. “Uh, guys?”

Savran turned her head to see what had unnerved Kathka, and her eyes widened in disbelief when they noticed a shambling mound of wood and leaves. “Well, you certainly don’t see that every day,” they commented, watching the … tree person move across the field and address the Arconans present. How strange.

More staring. This time one eye twitched.

He signed to Flyndt, fraking fetch quest waste of our time. Asshole over there going to give a briefing. Likely to have intel. Better move. I am not fraking catching animals. I’ll lose my shit.

His head turned and he scanned the area. Locate: female Mirialan projectile. Inventory: Mandalorian, brought animals, playing with fraking sixteen of them already. Chatterbox.

Turned back to Flyndt.

Suggestion: tell the Mirialan about this. Let her go chase rontos.

The Omwati was of similar mind with less explicit thoughts. This was something the villagers could handle, no? Surely they’d know their animals more than outsiders would. Again, lives were at stake right now.

He followed the Nautolan’s gaze to the Mandalorian woman and paused on those near her. A faint grimace. “Yes, might want to.” He turned to the monk, “I will ask…yes.”

Stepping away from the old man, Flyndt glanced over at the Neti, listening to their intro and was…surprised. He looked to Foxen as they walked. “Jedi? But danger?”

He used the conversation to take his mind off approaching the small group gathered by the animals. Animal, crap. ‘Wait. “I pass by, tell, then we meet at Dovak?”

Foxen nodded, noting the intervention and grateful for it. Of the Neti, he only said, All jediit can be danger. Don’t care if new leaf. He tried to explain again more simply: History of B-N-A-R: e-x-p-e-r-i-m-e-n-t on people. Sick as weapon. Killing machine.

At 3 m from animals and other people, Foxen stopped, ready to wait.

However.

The Shani was by the Mirialan. Danger to Flyndt. Unacceptable. Priority: keep the body between at all times.

I go with, he said, correcting course so that intercept of walking up would maintain safety parameters.

Olive skin paled and his eyes widen, clearly horrified and unsettled by that information. Flyndt forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to will his nerves screaming to both flee and defend this village from predators.

It was not helpful. Focus. Mission.

I go with.

“Hoo? Do not have–” his beak snapped shut, guessing what Foxen was doing. “O.K.”

Shoving his thumbs into his belt, Flyndt walked past the trio of ladies, waving at the Miraluka when he did. “Rontos escape, elder wants herd back, if wanted.” he added, moving to continue on towards Dovak.

Okay, so the distracting tree-man was a friend. Somehow that was even more strange than the mid-space merging from before. Maybe. This clan was never dull.

Eventually, Kathka’s attention went back down to the scurrier. Unless she was mistaken, it wanted something, intently. Her ears perked again when Clar’s voice came, and Kathka promptly pushed herself upright again.

“I think the little fella’s trying to take us somewhere,” she said openly. With people gathering and Doon calling their attention, it was just about time to go, anyhow. Kathka slung her hallikset to her back again and pushed herself back to her feet.

Kathka turned toward Doon expectantly and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself as Tajga suddenly demanded his attention. She stared at the signing for a few moments before looking back between the scurrier and Clar.

“…I’ll… be back in a minute,” she said slowly.

Before leaving though, Kathka turned her head to her feeding animals, as that unsettling sense returned to her. She could just take them with her, she figured. But no, they needed their strength. And Doon was right there. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them.

Still, couldn’t be too careful. And a bit of trust in them went a long way. “…Glad, protect. Stay here,” she commanded.

Her anooba turned to face her, still chewing his meal. Despite the goofy mouth-full look on his face, he was still a trained killer.

“Keel them safe,” Kathka added, at which Glad shifted his body to sit and stare at Mong with Attie on her head. Satisfied enough, Kathka stepped through the other people to follow this scurrier.

She offered a quick, “Hey,” to the tree-man, Ood, as she walked by.

Sagitta’s brows rose in confusion at Kathka and Savi’s response to something. She turned to see the tree man, “WAH!” She yelped in surprise, slightly recoiling. “Wha-” Then she stopped at hearing Dovak’s shout for briefing. “Um.” She stood up to compose herself, “I’m sorry, did you say your name was-” Then the Omwait and Nautolan walked by them. The Omwati’s and Mirialan’s eyes made contact, ‘Rontos escape, elder wants herd back, if wanted’

Her jaw drops. “Now wait one min-”

‘That is Archians’s pets!’

“Huh, what?” Sagitta said out loud. She hears Kathka and glanced back towards the scurrier. “I think so too… I’ve always believed creatures have some kind of intelligence and senses that we don’t have… maybe we should figure it out?” Then she looked around and noticed that Dovak was taken away. Hopefully, with the Nautolan and Omwati heading their way they might help with the communication barrier.

A chance! Maybe if they help out the village they might be less hostile.

Sagitta quickly went over to Stomps and grabbed the reins, “Come on, sweet girl. Maybe you can help me find them quicker.” She made her way over to the Monk with a kind and friendly smile. She actually felt naked without her helmet. Oh. Her helmet. She’ll get it later. “Hi! My-” she paused for a second, “Friends mentioned some poor Rontos escaped? Can you tell me where? I can do all I can to help! It also would be easier if you have something that belongs to them.” While talking, Sagitta was giving Stomps’ some neck scratches.

Already looking for the barking Shistavanen, Foxen easily spotted it and the Tagja – Flydyn’s mission – trying to engage. Looked unsuccessful. Supposition: Karran cosplay didn’t know their language.

Additional point of uselessness.

The Nautolan snapped fingers to get Flyndt’s attention, not touching. Leave be order remained in place, even if Flyndt touched him. He nodded to the male and small female child ahead of them.

Your friend is trying to tell that asshole to look in that ronto’s saddlebags. He pointed to the one with the pouches and such. Says it belongs to the camp, presumably the one her family is from? That it wouldn’t leave without a reason. She is looking for two ‘small ones.’ Check bags? I cover?

The sight of a whole trail heading off toward a mountain gave Kathka pause. “Blast it,” she whispered, deflating slightly. There was no telling how far that went.

However, before she started trying to figure out the logistics for this much of a detour, something caught her eye when she glanced back down at the scurrier. Something was sticking out of the ground near it: a cubic corner, definitely not stone like the surrounding architecture.

Kathka’s head tilted with an arch in her brow and ears. The thought of people seeing her dig up the ground almost stopped her - almost. She knelt down and swept her hand across the dirt, revealing more underneath the creature. With only a moment’s consideration, she gently scooped the scurrier up and onto her shoulder, then started digging.

When Vreva heard Dovak’s voice boom out over the camp, she spun on her heel and made a line to him. To see that once again his attention was pulled elsewhere fanned the flames of her annoyance. What were they doing there? What was he hiding from them? She stood nearby for a few minutes, arms crossed over her chest, yellow eyes glaring at the back of that Shista’s skull. No doubt her signature was flaring with her building rage.

‘Take a breath, V.’ She could almost hear Luka’s voice, gently scolding like a kriffing mother. No doubt that’s what they’d say if they were here. Gotta stay calm. She breathed in through her nostrils, still grinding her teeth. But the exhale helped simmer her rising temper.

Kark him. She waved off the conversing Shistas bitterly and turned back to the rest of the group.

There was a walking tree there.

Eyes narrowed with utter confusion, but the sentient seemed friendly. Good. A headcount had her missing a few. Not good. And what was the Mirialan doing with the Ronto?

She decided that was probably worth investigating. As she made her way over, she made note of the locations of the others she passed. Was there another Shistavanen with them? She narrowed her eyes as she thought back. Maybe she was mistaken.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached, eyeing the Ronto with apprehension.

“N…No?” Vreva looked between the strange Shistavanen monk and the Mirialan, hoping for some explanation. She noted the sandal full of mead in her hands and was just further confused.

Sagitta almost jumped back as she smiled at the monk, doing everything she can not to freak out. “T-Thank you, s-sir.” Was all she can mutter out as she took the mead-soaked flipflop. She was going to focus to start tracking. Sadly she got distracted when Vreva showed up. As the monk offered his flip-flop to Vreva and wiggled his toes at her, Sagitta’s lip twitched slightly at the corner. Trying not to lose her posture. “T-thank you… w-we’ll go investigate.” If Vreva allowed, she gently placed her gloved hand on her arm and pulled her away. She looked at Vreva as an unspoken bond of confusion and what the hell was that? Then she shook her head.

“Do you want to walk there or…” She glanced up at Stomps. “Go for a ride?”

<@227960499948486666>

It wasn’t the find Kathka was expecting, but it was something. A clue, perhaps? It seemed so, as the paper around the die had scrawlings on it - a list, with several lines crossesd out. Kathka’s brow furrowed as she read over it, connecting the dots. This lined up with some of the missing animals Tajga had shared with them. What about the rest?

Kathka frowned to realize that the end of the page was torn away. Either way, it was evidence. “Good find,” she whispered slowly to the scurrier on her shoulder as she turned to hurry back. If this was the first sign of a trail they needed to follow, she didn’t want to be going alone.

“Oh, before I forget. Do be mindfull of the deathtraps though if you enter the woods ok?” The Neti remarked as he began to quietly discuss the old days with an elder. “Now I know it was better back in the day. I mean, you wouldn’t believe how wonderful everything was about fifteen centuries ago. You wouldn’t believe the ……..”

“… oh right, and if you get injured or even scratched….take antibiotics and come back fast for treatment. They like to dip the sharp bits into fecal matter here.”

“Ride?” Vreva looked up at the Ronto. “Where?”

After she was filled in by what information the Mirialan could glean from the monk, Vreva chewed on her lip with uncertainty. She didn’t want to leave the rest of the group. Especially the Nautolan who seemed more focused than the others. But this seemed a small excursion. Maybe they’d be back by the time Dovak saw fit to tell them what they were actually doing there.

“I have… no idea how to ride one of these things. But it would be faster.” She groaned in hesitation. “Kark it. Let’s go. They’re not going anywhere fast, and I ain’t sitting around until Sergeant Furball gives us intel.”

Sagitta frowned, “Are you okay?” She asked Vreva, genuinely worried about her as she smiled. “Don’t worry. Stomps is a sweetie. Come on!” With that, she hopped onto Stomps back as she extended a hand for Vreva to take to hop behind her. “And you can talk to me you know. Whatever is on your mind. It’s not good to hold everything in! Just got to talk about it or let it roll off of you. By the way, I’m Sagitta! So wonderful to meet you. I’m sorry your welcome mat here was facing a gun. That’s no fun. That reminds me of a time I’ve been shot. More than once actually. One of them was by my teacher. Purely accidental of course. Oh. I’m talking too much.” She immediately shut up.

For now.

The old Neti was torn… They were sharing the sacred herb….But the Force wanted him to go with the young ones to hunt something or other…..He may have snuck a taste of the sacred herb during the night while he waited for the team to arrive. Maybe he’d find something edible in the woods? He’d been dying for some chips for awhile now.“

The Ood abides!

Turning to the side, the old arconan began to move towards where the Ronto hunting party was forming. Behind him a pipe shot through the air and soared towards the hand he had raised over his right shoulder. The pipe, not even having lost its precious cargo hit the Neti’s hand and was swiftly placed in the corner of his mouth. Now he was ready to leave…

“hehehehe, only too right.” The Neti said. Holding up the package, he stated he’d get even someday.

On her way back to Doon, Kathka’s nose briefly stopped her at the familiar smell of something burning. Not just any something, either. Oh boy. It was coming from a newly formed circle of elderly townsfolk.

“Save some of that for me!” Kathka called as she passed by them.

First things first, though. Kathka hurried back toward her animals, where Doon and half the crew remained. As they continued to sign back and forth, she stepped close, turning the page she’d found to face them. “You guys are gonna wanna see this.”

‘Are you okay?’ Vreva put her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side. Sagitta would be able to discern from her look that it was surely a loaded question. Though the Zabrak gave a genuine laugh, softer than her countenance.

She hopped up easily with Sagitta’s assistance, though Vreva’s grip was tight around their middle as she situated herself behind the Mirialan. Sagitta’s chattering earned a smile from the Zabrak, hidden from view. “Vreva, and don’t worry about it. I’ve been told I have the temper of a Rancor. They’re not wrong. Chatty is good though. I’m just… not.”

Vreva caught sight of the Neti approaching the group and waved to them. Though with a slight shift in the Ronto’s position, she quickly grabbed hold of the Mando’s waist again for dear life. It was much higher from up here.

Savran took a step forward while folding their arms across their chest. “You found something?” they asked, leaning forward to examine the paper. Only one word on the list stood out to them: Scurrier. It was the name of the creature they’d encountered earlier while Kathka played her hallikset. Taking note of that and how some items were crossed out, Savran was able to deduce that this was a list of animals that their targets sought to acquire.

“So, the Jawas are poaching animals, then?”

The avian alien looked over at the snap, then to the pair they were walking towards. “Let me tell her I will first,” he nodded, figuring that may ease the girl’s frustration.

“Tajga!” Flyndt called as he neared, pausing at her side. He glanced once at this Dovak, shook his head slightly, and then looked back to her – summarizing briefly so the older Shistavanen understood what he was missing. “This Ronto from camp, yes? Would not leave with no reason? I can look in the bags for you, yes. We will find these two little ones.”

Pivoting to go do so, Flyndt stopped to see Kathka approach and waited. He craned his head to look at the list, only to freeze and step away as the Shani approached. A glance to Foxen. Watch, he signed and gestured towards Tajga before leaving to check on the Ronto. Circling around to its front, he halted and raised a hand for it to approach and sniff. When it did, Flyndt slowly gave its head a gentle rub, cooing lightly to it as it did. Content the beast would not move, he quietly shifted along its side, petting as he went, and checked the saddlebags.

What do you have, Ronto?

Foxen frowned sharply as Flyndt back-stepped, immediately adjusting once more to be between the pair of Shistavanen and Shani and Flyndt and ronto. Once repositioned, he did as asked and watched Tagja, signing, I’m like you. I can understand you. Stay with me and him, and pointed at Flyndt.

Rifling through the saddle bags, Flyndt quickly realized they were full of equipment ranging from technological and grenades to accessories and healing packs. Curiosity got the better of him as he took the time to grab and examine a blade. It was too hefty for one hand, forcing him to gather it in two. He thumbed a small bucket and nearly jumped a foot in the air as the sword broke into piece suddenly, each connected by a tendril of buzzing electricity. His eyes widened with awe at the sword-whip. He almost raised it to test it’s capabilities when the startled stirring of the Ronto reminded him of its presence.

Cscsht, the Omwati chittered to himself, turning off the blade and dropping it in order to calm the beast long enough to take the saddle bags from it. Once free of its burden, Archian’s Ronto wandered off to eat at some nearby bushes. The packs were heavier than he expected but a little call on the Force to weave into his muscles, he was able to hoist the bags up onto his shoulder and stooped to pick up the sword-whip thingamajig before heading back to the remaining group of outsiders in the village.

“Tagja, I got it,” Flyndt told the shistavanen girl as he crouched between her and Foxen, rummaging open the packs and pulling out a…right bombs. Clearing his throat, he gently put that back and held up the decoder instead. “Do you recognize these? Who they belong to?”

Sagitta frowned a bit. “A temper of a Rancor?” She mused for a moment. “That’s not good. Hopefully, we can put some of that anger to good use!” With a smile, Stomps behaved as they made their way to the padlock. She made sure Stomps was at a distance, after all, she wasn’t sure how the herd would take to a different Rontos. Her brows furrowed when she noticed the tension on Stomps’ neck. “Hey. Hey girl, it’s okay.” She muttered softly, stroking and petting Stomps’ neck. It was then that she realized how tight Vreva was clinging onto her. With a smile, she gently patted Vreva’s arm like a comforting friend. “You can go down.”

When Vreva does, Sagitta slid down as she looked at the herd. “This.. doesn’t make sense. If they wanted to escape, they would get out of that opening. We should go investigate.” Then she looked back at Vreva. <@227960499948486666>

Few things escaped Savran’s scrutinizing gaze. The minute changes in the Omwati’s posture were no exception. He had tensed when they approached, stepping backward to allow Foxen to interpose himself between them.

When the Omwati returned carrying a large bag, they watched carefully as he produced a decoder and showed it to younger Shistavanen.

Retrieval: successful. No casualties. Effortless execution. Even when the beast stirs, Flyndt masters it and lifts bags. Likely weight given contents visible and thump when placed down: roughly 50+ kg.

Admiration rises in the chest, expanding it. Heat. And relief. Intervention unnecessary. Him not having to go any fraking closer to that thing: fraking thank you, Flyndt.

Wait.

That was a grenade.

No, we want that, bring it back. Only brought the one.

Foxen checked sightlines, maintaining bodily barrier between Flyndt and Tekuani. Then he reached down and plucked the bomb from the bag. His eyes darted to the blade in Flyndt’s other hand, keen on whatever the Omwati had claimed.

The body freezes.

It tries to be 20 m away and behind a bolted door. The mind denies this action. Body must remain between Flyndt and Shani. Must be present for mission: help Tagja. Threat inventory: poachers, jawa, various species, explosives, animals, Savran.

The body must. The Foxen.

Stay, he tells himself. The eyes look. Her makes them. Not at the thing, but at the hand holding it. Leather glove. Peeking window of the back of olive hand that consumes thoughts 54% of the time. Sleeves tucked in. Flyndt’s hand. Home. The hand. Will not hurt.

It is just a whip get the frak over it–!

The body. He holds very still. Mission: Leave be. Maintain secure perimeter, do not allow Shani to pass, help Tagja.

Affirmative.

Foxen watches. His grip on the new grenade is white-knuckled. He waits.

“Riight…” Vreva looked down and realized the ground was still very far below. Don’t look down, just do it. She gritted her teeth, turned in the saddle, and very carefully shimmied…

Whumpf! Thankfully there was some soft grass below, and her rump took the most of the fall. Body intact, weapons fine, but her pride was certainly injured - not that she would let it show. She got up as quickly as she had fallen, having taken worse tumbles before. The Zabrak dusted herself off and turned her focus to where the Mirialan was pointing.

“Some storm knock it down?” Vreva asked as she moved in to get a better view. She was wary of the Rontos, keeping them well in her perspective. Her rifle was in her hands. Safety off. Better to err on the side of caution.

“Hm maybe, but they would’ve noticed and there’s no other damage from a storm?” Sagitta frowned at Vreva’s rifle. “Please, whatever you do, do not shoot. I would.. hate to think of the entire herd trambling the village.” Sagitta slowly and calmly approached the Mantos Rantos. “Hey there pretty girl…” Her voice was soft and calm as she was at the ready to move if she had to. Vreva would be able to notice by her footing and footwork. “I hate doing this but..” She inhales and exhales slowly as she tried to get into the blue-chested Ronto’s mind and convince her to go back to their shelter. <@571544963607822336>

Flyndt was rummaging through the bags after Tajga took the decoder, when Foxen reached in and grabbed on of the explosives. A slight trill sounded as he noted the man’s interest and after a bit of gentle one-handed shuffling, he picked out a concussion grenade and thermal imploder to go along with the electro-magnetic pulse grenade the Nautolan held. Not that Flyndt was too familiar with the differences. He pivoted in his crouched position to offer them, when he noticed the stiffness that had befallen the larger man. His knuckles gripping the explosive in hand so tight one would think it would detonate under the pressure. His gaze followed the tilt of Foxen’s head to his own arm and in it the weird sword-whip thing.

Oh…

Flyndt shifted to catch the mando’s eye and made a quiet show of setting the sword down, his flat palm pressing it onto the ground as if to say ‘do not worry about this.’

O.K? He signed with a nod.

Waiting a moment to be sure, he allowed his attention to be pulled to Tajga, who seemed to be having trouble operating the decoder. “May I try?”

She obliged and handed it over. The Omwati had not messed with these too much before but had picked up a bit of pattern with it. He cycles through a few different remembered sequences of buttons, humming a different beat and tune for each under his breath. Finally a tab opened, Flyndt, however, could not make any end of it. It was all jumbled and mostly in code still. Passing it to Foxen, he asked, “Try? See if more luck than I?”

Once taken, the Omwati pulled out the advance scanner to fiddle with – unfortunately making a sharp screech for a second before he leveled the frequency. “Sorry.”

“Tajga, could we use these things to aid in quest? The one lady…” Flyndt realized he didn’t know her name, “with the Ronto maybe could carry packs?”

O.K.

Do not worry about this.

O.K.

Okay.

The whip sits on the ground like a coiled snake. It is danger pain correction. But not in Flyndt’s hand. Flyndt will not hurt. Even the scar on the sternum knows this.

However.

If Flyndt is not holding. Then who will. In any other hand: danger pain correction. He does not want correction. He’s lost enough fraking sleep trying to be in this body again to think and feel they both have he’s not he’s not going to let this thing take that away. No.

Don’t worry about this. O.K. Flyndt says. Asks, O.K.? Okay, frak, okay.

O.K. he signs back, and the Omwati gave him another nod and then passed over items before turning to Tagja and technology. Foxen took them without actually looking, and had to consciously remind himself to do so.

The looking brings surprise. And delight.

Flyndt just put three beautiful fraking grenades in his hands, oh, frak yes.

One of them is even an imploder. The noise he makes is almost a groan, except that he’s got better control than that. Still, he nearly vibrates in excitement. And these were picked out for him.

The emotion is: good.

It is also distracting. He forgets about the whip for an entire 7.32 seconds, nearly on par with surprise Flyndts in the pool, feathers all soaked. The time is sufficient to set panic to ignore and regain functionality.

Mission is good focus. Be a barrier to Savran. Help Tagja. Don’t get eaten by a ronto or that thing the Mirialan brought or whatever else, stupid fraking animals…

Flyndt is making hoots back at the buttons on the decoder. Sequence mimicry. Turns it into something else. A song made of ones and zeroes. He’s not surprised it gets something. But there must be more going on in the code, or whatever, because then the Omwati hands him the damn thing.

His skill set doesn’t contain slicing, but stealth ops often ask for it: information retrieval or exchange, security tampering, etc. That’s why he comes prepared.

The Nautolan drew out his computer spike kit and selected a one single use probe, stabbing it into the decoder’s available port with all the brutal efficiency of severing spinal column and piercing aorta. The display gets its shit together after a few seconds of program running and then more information becomes legible. He snaps for Flyndt’s attention.

Crimson feathers raised at the snap, Flyndt twisting to grab the decoder and read. His brow furrowed as he went, slowly nodding before presenting the decoder back to Tajga. Closing the packs, Flyndt stood up and regarded the others.

“This Archian went to follow the poachers, try stop them and end their operations. He went to cave of Fangs,” the Omwati explained. He pressed his tongue against his beak, lips pursing in concerned thought. Glancing to Tajga, he continued, “Wants us to check camp, ensure your Aksel is okay. Aksel is young? Or in need of support I gather? Who is Candy?”

Flyndt glanced around the group, Foxen, Dovak and the other Shistavanen, and the Shani. His hands twitched, conscious of the presence of their belt and the knives that were tucked there, but he forced the response away. A deep breath.

“I ask you all to come with and seek this camp, return with Aksel alive,” he inquired, his sunset gaze locking onto slitted amber eyes for a moment before breaking. Flyndt shifted to stand beside Foxen and dipped his head just slightly, touches two fingers to his own chest before gesturing to the Nautolan beside him. “I am Flyndt, and this is Foxen. Names aid in working together.”

As he turned to address the group, Savran regarded the Omwati with an expectant look, their slitted eyes unwavering in their observation of his expressive countenance. Onyx lips curled into a grin as Savi’s expression shifted to one of sardonic amusement. The little bird taking point and giving instructions to the group was an irony they couldn’t ignore. The two Nautolans had worked themselves into a dither over the fate of this one yet here he was, alive and well. They could scarcely imagine why they were even needed at this point; hunting poachers didn’t seem like the most effective nor the most exciting use of their time. However, they were her ticket off this planet, so she had no choice but to play along for now. If only they could get on with it. With all this standing around and talking, the Shani was starting to feel peckish, and a glimpse of that fact was reflected in the way they considered each member of this eclectic group a noticeably longer than they hitherto had.

The Shani’s forked tongue flittered out to scan the air for the most redolent of scents exuded by those gathered there. After the Omwatii–Flyndt–concluded his explanation, Savi spoke next. “Savran Has,” they began, shifting their gaze to Foxen and making a show of the way their head feathers trembled as they ogled him. “We’ve met.” They didn’t care to elaborate on what that meant, leaving the little bird to discover it on his own.

All together, these details gave the crew more info than Kathka expected, and a direction to start moving.

Though, the sudden note of names caught her off-guard. “Oh. Right… I checked the dossier list when we launched - at least, the ones we expected.” She cleared her throat and folded her arms. “It’s Kathka. Torgrim.”

Designations being given. Flyndt gives his, good, he doesn’t have to bother with ignoring expectation. He takes note of identifiers as they go on. Updating mission parameters to include: help/protect/retrieve quantity: Askel. Alive.

This is noted to Tekuani. Who then makes eyes and amusement at Flyndt.

Showing teeth: desired. But they have agreement already. Which he should notify Flyndt of.

They were in the way, he explains to Flyndt. Didn’t know what happened to you. Emergency. Told Minnie to just go. It’s O.K. Already established would kill them if they harmed you or Minnie en route. They said would not. I know their reputation, and I think they know mine. We have deal.

Dovak eyed Flyndt as he spoke, then gave Foxen a deeper once over, being sure to make note of their names. He reached his paw down, towards Tajga and the decoder was pushed into his massive paw. He read from it, metal tipped claw tapping the side of the device slowly. A frown slowly crawled across his face that already consisted of a sour snarl.

The decoder was handed back to Tajga as Doon eyed the group carefully. Those who were here at least. They were already missing a few. The Shistavanen rumbled in annoyance. This was more complicated than he would have preferred.

He slowly scratched along the side of his jaw and chin, considering the options before them.

After a minute he shakes his head and rumbles out a sigh. He straightened his back, rolling his shoulders and neck before extending a paw to both Foxen and Flyndt. “Dovak. If you wish to join us on this, your assistance would be appreciated. We may need anyone trained in traditional combat we can muster.”

Flyndt’s beak locked as he nodded once to Savran’s introduction, trying to keep a blank face was excruciatingly difficult. Then, he noted the tremble of feathers and roaming eyes.

“We’ve met.”

Hooded eyes widened and darted a glance to the Nautolan, crimson crest flexing in surprise before falling flat. The Omwati shifted and swallowed, throat feeling tight while questions brew in in the back of his . There where emotions welling that he knew he had not right to feel – betrayed, hurt, confused, several other things he could not put a talon on, and numb all at once. What he was certain of was that he did not like or trust this Shani.

Realizing he was scowling, Flyndt forced himself to brush it off. He nodded to Kathka Torgrim and offered a swift, small smile. Not familiar with what a dossier was, he made a mental note to ask…just to ask later.

Fingers snapping for attention reach his ear. It took the Omwati a couple seconds before he could turn his head and read hands speaking, about killing if harmed and knowing something of each other, sign unrecognized. Ttttt

What deal?–

His inquiry was interrupted by Dovak, drawing his gaze to their sole eye then down to the hand offered with its padded palm. Flyndt frowned slightly and did not take it, his feathers ruffling.

“You yelled your name from ship earlier, I remember,” despite his efforts and the fact that he had asked for names, the Omwati’s tone was laced with an faint undercurrent of annoyance. “I was asking same, so missions be joined.”

The Shistavanen stalling Flyndt’s question earned it a narrowed look of sanguine eyes. Lips twitched up in a microsneer, irritation blatant and uncaring compared to the Omwati’s attempt.

…yelled name from ship earlier…

The sneer twitched into a smirk.

Hah, fraker.

He stared at the hand and did not take it, then examined the body, then fixed on the eye. Stared. Turned back to Flyndt and resumed signing carefully.

Deal: protection for food. Won’t hurt us. Tell more later. Then an equally blatant gesture at Dovak. Thoughts? Trust or no? he asked, including their sign for Flyndt’s powers, touching his chest with two fingers and then his forehead the same, adding a look, listen?

Vreva had closed her eyes to better focus, reaching out with the Force to sense any nearby threat. The Rontos’ fear was overwhelming, fogging her senses like a dark cloud. As she attempted to push past, she didn’t realize at first that the fear was both growing and coming near. However, once the Matron got too close for comfort, Vreva’s instincts pulled her out of her trance.

An amplified hop back got her out of the way of the charging Ronto, but Sagitta hadn’t been so lucky. At least the tall grass took her fall. Once the Matron backed off and seemed to be taking a more defensive than offensive stance, Vreva rushed over to help her up.

“Got a plan B?” she asked as she looked back to the herd. “I’ve got a couple of ideas, but avoiding a stampede is looking a lot less likely by the minute.” <@216702440140046336>

The Neti looked to his left and began to speak to Vreva about the best way to get these Rontos wrangled. After several minutes of strange grunted responses Ood seemed to get a bit annoyed.

<grunt>

“Look, I know we should mimic their calls to keep the herd at ease but that’s clearly a Gornt mating call you’re using. It is not going to calm them so stop doing it!”

<grunt grunt>

Turning to his left, the elderly Arconan began a conversation with the creature he found there: “I mean Sagitta, what’s your opinion on using Gornt grunting sounds to round up Rontos?”

<groaning grunt>

Upon hearing the response, his head snapped back and he angrily bit out to his first conversation partner. “Thanks alot Vreva, now Sagitta is doing it too! You know, two can play that game!”

<Honk honk>

“Let’s see if you like it if I talk like a goose!”

Doon’s open paw slowly clenched into a fist, knuckles popping from the tensed muscles. His metal claws dug into his palm for a second as he glared a hole into reality between the two Shutta’s infront of him.

He inhaled.

Then exhaled.

His fist went into his robe, producing a cigar which was quickly lit and bit. His snout snarling enough to bare plenty of teeth around the dark wrapped herbs. He stood there, not quite between them, but as if he was a third in their conversation.

He watched as Foxen pointed at him then continued to sign, and blew a large cloud of sweet smoke into the space between the three of them. His voice rumbles through the puff “Maybe I wasn’t clear.” Another puff of smoke slipped from between his teeth. “Mission isn’t ‘joined’ unless I say so. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how you found Tajga. If your intent is to help us, you’re only going to do that if I give you the clear to.”

His gaze lazily bounced between them as he spoke, eye glaring daggers into theirs when they met. “So far, I don’t see a reason to. You’re just unknown assets in a sensitive situation as far as I care to see it. You’re welcome to change my mind though.” One more puff of smoke left him as he tapped metal claw against cigar off to the side, shaking some ash free. He steeled himself, physically and mentally for whatever reaction they might give.

The Nautolan’s lip curled at the particular cigar stench, more for having smoke blown towards him than anything else. He met the glare with one of his own, signing.

Not your choice, despot puppy. The Tagja asked him. Her choice. She wants our help, she has it. Don’t need to work with you. Will do our mission ourselves.

He didn’t expect understanding, nor for Flyndt to actually convey everything he said, but at least the Omwati would know his stance.

Although Savran had attended to taunt Flyndt and Foxen more, the arrival of the larger Shistavanen–who for some reason had decided to go by “Dovak” for the purpose of this mission–captured their attention enough to grant the Nautolan and little bird a respite from their recalcitrant teasing.

The Shistavanen offered his paw to the duo to shake and was promptly rejected. As the tension between the three of them grew, a poodoo-eating grin crept onto Savran’s tattooed visage, their gaze shifting between them all in a eager attempt to make note of their changing expressions. This was going to be good.

But then, this “Dovak” produced a cigarro, lit it, and blew smoke in their direction. Despite the disrespectful gesture being intended for Foxen and Flyndt, the two clouds of smoke were just large enough to drift in Savi’s direction. Even worse was the fact that their tongue caught a hint of acrid, burnt tabac. That pissed them off.

Savran took a step forward, lifting a hand in a silent gesture to Foxen and Flyndt that they meant them no harm. The same couldn’t be said for this palnan who thought it was cute to go around blowing that vile poison at anyone he pleased.

“He’s telling you to kark off,” they noted, “And that whether or not we stay is up to the kid.”

Savi pointed at Tagja, toward whom Foxen had gestured a few times while signing his response to Dovak. Although Savi didn’t understand sign language, they were able to interpret the gist of his message based on his body language and forceful gesticulations.

The Shani lowered one hand to their thigh and patted the vibrodagger fastened to it. “Keep it up. I haven’t had dog before, but now I’m curious.”

Protection for food, what food?! He wanted to shout, the silver and blue feathers at the back of his head raising. This was not the time and place, but if anyone is eating anyone he will stab them. Look and listen? Flyndt shook his head with clear frustration, anyone could tell whatever tension running off the avian was likely from the silent conversation he was having.

Flyndt looked to Doon and considered reaching out. His mind however was a haze trapped by warring winds, a itch to and fear of tapping into the Shani’s aura instead. The choice cancelled by an actual haze of smoke drifting into his face, causing his nose to scrunch. The rumbling of the black Shistavanen garnered his attention fully, crest raising slightly and stiffening with guarded attention. Hands flashing in return had him nodding once in agreement until Savran moved forward.

Flyndt stepped closer to Tajga, reflexively putting himself between her and the Shani before he even registered the passive hand raised. A gestured that did settle the uptick of his heart, his breathing slowing a bit. The feathers at his nap started lowering as Savi offered up a correct summary of Foxen’s words. Frak, did they know sign? –

“–No! No, and you will not today,” the omwati snapped in response to having dog, crest flaring and sunset eyes locking on them. He forced himself to take a deep breath and unsnag his talons from the blades at the small of his back. Can not have a confrontation here, in the village, in front of a child– old memories threatening to stir up in his mind once again today since seeing the Shani, and he forced it aside.

“I made promise to her, I intend to keep…I know what is to have family taken,” Flyndt spoke, shifting his gaze to hold Dovak’s. “If say no, fine. We will not go with you, but seek after her father instead.”

His chin raised defiantly and sure, shoulders squaring, despite the screaming alarm in his nerves from being so close to the reptile.

Kathka wasn’t sure what the kid was signing, but her ears lifted alertly at her motion with the knife. When the little one burst into tears, she knelt next to her. Kathka’s hand lifted, unsure whether to embrace her, but an odd sense hit her, and she dropped it.

Deja vu…

A snarl grew out of her usually content face as she looked back up.

“If all of you could shut up for a minute and remember that we’re on the same side, that’d be great, yeah? Clearly you all got problems with each other, but we got bigger fish to fry, so stuff it. You’re all being dicks and getting pissy at each other for doing the same.” Stifling a growl, she lifted the list in her hand again and pointed at the jawa scribble. “That’s who we’re after. Don’t make this about anything else.” The last line was punctuated with a roving point at all of them. A heavy breath escaped her. “Now can we get back to business, and quit wasting time with these petty jabs?”

Tension escalating. Flyndt affirmed their stance. If the Shistavanen truly wanted to stop them from helping, then he would answer in turn.

Then the Tagja interjecting, and he knows this well. Trying to scream when no one can hear you. When the Tagja begins to cry, signing at the same time, something in his head clicks, shifts, resets.

Foxen took one step forward – still between Savi and Flyndt – and knelt down on his knees to be roughly level with the little girl. He carefully set aside the knife by her knee, then gently touched her arm, hummed, and began signing.

I’m sorry, little one, he said. I know what it’s like to be unheard. Yelling for people to listen and they don’t, can’t. Infuriating. Hopeless. Don’t mean to make you feel that. We’re just being shitty. Everyone wants to help you and your daddy. And brother? Askel? I promise you we’ll bring them home to you. I will do whatever it takes. Poachers or Shistavanens. You aren’t alone. I hear you. So does he, like you ask. A nod to Flyndt. He’s really great. Good person. He speaks for me too. If he promised you something he means it. Okay?

The last question was simply signed, just the letters, and then another touch on her arm to end it.

Doon’s head was slowly turned in the direction of the Threatening Savi. He causally took another draw from the cigar, regarding her in the manner one might a toddler throwing a tantrum. He spoke out of the side of his mouth, not too impressed. “You’re going to have a harder time swallowing me than your normal prey of children, Egg Beater.” A slight growl rose through his voice before Kathka began speaking.

His snarl went nowhere, but Kathka’s anger at him hurt something deep inside. He decided to stomp on whatever it was that was twinging, and deal with it later.

He pulled his eyes off the cannibal to regard the others. “If you’re planning to help, you’ll follow the plan. An Arconan is at risk. I’m not going to let you ruin a rescue attempt.”

He exhaled one last cloud before smothering the embers of the cigar into his vambrace and stuffing it back under the robe he wore.

“Firstly, we need our whole team gathered. But for now, start stowing whatever tech you have. You’ll be leaving it behind. No electrical anything, no remote explosives. Nothing that will trip their sensors. If you need weaponry” he points metal tipped claws towards Mymir’s stand. “Get them there. I will cover the cost.” He lowered his arm and started slowly plucking the thin wires that ran the span of the back of his paw to his claws.

“Questions?”

In the brief silence following her words, Kathka realized her chest was pounding. She pushed herself back to her feet as Doon spoke, though she reacted slowly. A memory tried to surface that she quickly shook out.

No tech, she repeated in her head to stay present. Begrudgingly, Kathka slid off her backpack and began to rifle through it.

“Communicators too?” she asked quietly.

“Everything powered or capable of power, yes. We’ll be going in with only traditional equipment. Blades, bows and claws.” He slipped the wires into a pocket on his bag, then proceeded to pluck an earpiece from his good ear. He’d have to stuff most of his gear away, Saber included.

Seeing Tajga upset and crying, Flyndt drew quiet, crest falling low and eyes widening in distraught of having caused this. Fear and concern be damned. He took a small step towards the girl before stopping himself when Kathka snapped. Swallowing, the omwati nodded. He glanced from Dovak to Savran to Foxen’s back, watching the large shadow move to crouch at Tajga’s side.

“Understood,” Flyndt nodded to the towering Shistavanen before stepping a bit away and crouching.

The urge to go apologize to Tajga strong. He glanced towards her and Foxen, chest constricting, and decided to in a little bit, after their talk. So he started rifling through his gear.

“Classic,” Kathka muttered. Well, as proud as she was to live largely analogue, that did pose a problem for some of her electronically augmented equipment.

No communicator; that came off her ear right away. The fancy vambrace she’d worked with Eilen to get ahold of and split: no good for its first journey with her. The prod pistol was probably fine, save for the scope, so off that came after some fidgeting with the screws.

She was going to need more room in her backpack, so what was there to keep? Her camera, sad to leave, was left in the bag with her datapad. The pair of microbinoculars had an electronic distance readout she could power down, but they otherwise used good old telescopic lenses. That and her flare gun were coming with her, then.

As far as Kathka knew, her survival and traversal equipment was all fair game. Climbing claws, grappling hook, gas mask, air tank, aqua breather - no electronics, pneumatic filters at most. She loosened her belt slightly to squeeze in her flare gun.

Then it hit her: Doon was leaving behind his lightsaber. Her bow, that stellar Nightsister work of art from Meyrath, wasn’t coming. Sorry, bud. Well, at least she still knew how to handle her ‘old reliable’. Hopefully, a local bow wouldn’t feel so different.

Kathka sighed. “I need to head back to the ship and change. My undersuit’s got a climate controller.”

The sudden elevation of Flyndt’s voice caught Savi by surprise, prompting them to look at the Omwati with an expression of surprise, the small smirk that formed on their tattooed lips indicating that they were at least a little impressed with the outburst. It seemed like the little bird had some fight in him after all, even if it would have done nothing to dissuade Savran from eating the dog if they really wanted to.

Great. The kid started crying. A terrible, contemptible wail of a sound escaped the young Shistavanen’s mouth, earning an irritated twitch of Savi’s eye. “Make it stop,” they muttered to Flyndt, the distance invoked by their choice of words a clear hint that the Shani did not have much experience with children. Thank the Force that Foxen seemed to be moving to do just that. Console the kid, give her some food, whatever–as long as they made her stop crying.

Savran regarded Kathka for a moment while folding their arms in front of their chest, and nodded in recognition of her words when she was finished. “You’re right. The mission is more important than any … sensitivities some of us have,” they said, making sure to let their slitted eyes settle on Doon when they mentioned the bit about sensitivities.

Savran could have explained that everyone, regardless of size, went down the same when they were in pieces, but they were more than happy letting him persist in his delusion that his stature made him different somehow. The truth, however, was that Savi could decide on a whim that he was prey, and that’s what he would be–and not even the largest piece of meat that fell to their blades.

-

Oh well. A serpent could dream. They’d have to play nice for now–their promise demanded it. When the dog explained that everyone needed to remove anything that emitted an electrical signal, Savran wasted no time in doing so, removing any items on their person that ran the risk of tripping the poachers’ sensors. Their weapons would stay. Although they preferred to use the vibration generators, they were more than capable of using them as normal blades.

“Done,” they said, folding everything into a small ball inside of their greyscale poncho. When Kathka mentioned returning to the ship to change, Savi took a step forward. “Do you mind if I put this stuff with yours on the ship? Don’t want to leave any of it out here.”

Sagitta grimaced as she looked at Vreva, “I don’t know. Give me a minute.” She whispered towards her. She did not want to piss them off. Those beauties can easily trample the village. And her but that wasn’t the point. Right on cue, she heard some odd noises. Her pink eyes glanced over as her jaw slacked open in surprise. “A-are you seeing w-what I"m seeing?” She asked Vreva. Some… tree being was making noises and luring all the gornts and rontos to him.

All but one.

The head Momma. Getting the hint, she nodded. She made sure Stomps stay where she was while she goes check it out. “I’m going to go check out the hole. It feels like she wants me to check it out. Come with?” Once they got closer, she frowned at the tree. The way it was snapped, it almost looked like it was pushed down. Looked around some more, and she saw some dried blood as she frowned and her head turned to look at the head boss lady to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. “If she’s not bleeding or the others… where did this blood come from?” She questioned, looking at Vreva. <@227960499948486666>

Have to disarm, Foxen explained, motions still gentle, having heard the change in mission parameters. Annoying, because of body glove, but doable. Like he’d told Minnie on their approach: Ash Angel Op. No electronics, no signs, go dark. But won’t leave you. O.K? You have us.

Vreva looked over to the Neti with an amused expression. “Huh, well there’s Plan B.” She gave a thumbs-up as the Rontos gathered around the Elder and seemed to settle.

She followed close behind Sagitta as the Mando approached the fallen tree. Safety back on, but her rifle remained in her grip. Vreva couldn’t shake the thought that something was going to go wrong. Her nerves were alert by default, but everything about this place felt off.

Blood. Not a good sign. Vreva stooped to examine the area, looking for a trail or a body around the broken tree. “Whatever has them spooked, I imagine… Keep your eyes open.”

Sagitta glanced up and noticed an Oopik had landed nearby. With a confused sigh, she stood up and turned to look at the head big girl was backing away and even also getting away from the village paddock. “Oh. Right. We need to get them in the paddock. I’ll try again…”

With a deep inhale, she remained at least tensed as possible. Approaching the big head momma she held up her hands. “Hey there again. It’s alright big girl. You gotta come to the paddock with me, hmm?” The big lady lowered her head and snorted at her face. Sagitta laughed gently as she started to give scratches at the side of the face and walked slowly towards the paddock. “Come on. I’ll tell them about the hole okay? We could get it covered up. Let’s go, sweetie.”

The Oopik startled her and the sounds from Ood and the Gornts made it difficult for her mind to focus. Finding no other spatters of blood without leaving the fenced area, Vreva turned back. Sagitta would no doubt need her help if the Ronto were to charge again.

She kept quiet and let the Mirialan do her thing. Hopefully the second time was the charm. The Oopik was kept to her peripheral. Were they scavengers or predatory? She wasn’t certain.

Backpack unslung and dropped lightly to the ground, Flyndt removed the electro-ripper from his shoulder and ran his gloved hands over its hilt. Electrical components ran through out it, hand laid jointly by his hand and his brothers. Having to leave this behind made him disappointed. Resting it on the ground, he started checking along his belt. Commlink was a no. Throwing knives secured in their pouch, Kel dagger void of magnets and such. The curved edges of the petar a deadly traditional blade. The Omwati slipped a small cylinder from the fabrics at his waist. Holding it gingerly between his hands like a flute before him, he pressed a mechanical button – springing forth a thin, sharp needle of a blade. Impractical as it was for him, it still intrigued.

Of the weapons only the polearm would have to stay. He would have to speak with this Mymir. Not that he was not capable with a short blade, the reach however he was most accustomed too. Distance was safer.

The flap of his pack flopped open with a thwack, metal buttons striking the eyelets that looped the braided adjustable ties. Inside was several technological tools, decoder, a spike kit, his handy multi-purpose tool. All things more fiddled with than he knew how to use. His brow furrowed with a light ‘tsk’ through his beak behind tattooed lips as he pushed it aside. A gloved hand brushed against the basic datapad stowed among the rest of the tech. After a pause, he grabbed it. Thumbing the screen to life, his eyes immediately caught the notification of too many missed messages from Foxen, indicated by the micro plus sign by the number recorded.

How? He had not heard any dings or trills. Flyndt stiffened remembering earlier in the day, of messaging back and forth while waiting, and muting the sound to avoid attention. To keep a little sphere to themselves.

A sigh escaped him, glancing over to the Nautolan and pausing. Tajga was gesturing at him, beckoning. He offered a small small briefly and nodded once, closing his pack and shifting over to come stand by them. The Omwati’s gaze hoovered on Foxen’s for several heartbeats before he crouched beside the girl.

I am sorry for earlier. Flyndt glanced once towards the other man, as much an apology to him as her. His feathers shifted and he pulled a cloth from his belt to offer to Tajga. I am here for you, had promised, will keep it.

Sagitta grimaced as the Oopik leaped to take down prey. Such is the law of nature. Though, suddenly a huge limb appeared, grabbing the Oopik, and into the darkness. This caused Sagitta to be startled as she almost slid off of Stomps. “What the-” She noticed that the Rontos had started to calm down. Ah. So they were nervous about whatever that was? Sagitta frowned. What could be so big and massive to take down the Oopik easily and make the Rontos nervous?! They need to inform the villagers of this. They could be in danger. Her wide-eye hues glanced at Vreva as if asking, ‘Did you karking saw that?!’

<@227960499948486666>

The spine relaxed 12% when Flyndt was close again. Apology to Tagja: good. And of course he would keep his promise. Flyndt always did.

[Mostly], the feelings beneath the mission reminded, mutinous, but they were set to ignore for a reason. Still, the accusation was egregious enough to warrant response. He always means to keep his word, he reminded the self. Important distinction.

With Tagja taken care of for the moment, and Flyndt already prepared (hmm), the Nautolan stood and began to strip. First the gear – a mournful grumble that was not a whine issued in the chest as the grenades were discarded – was sorted and removed, placed into two aggressively neat piles to maintain and subtract.

Remove inventory: two electromagnetic pulse grenades, one proton charge, one thermal imploder (sad), one fragmentation grenade, remaining two computer spikes, Omni scope from the DE-21, datapad, jetpack. Disable: majority of vambrace functions.

The datapad lingers. More silence. He will leave it only when he must.

Remaining inventory: beskar Kal dagger with mulliene edge disabled, kyuzo petar (undetectable to censors), knives, climbing claws, two pistols, medpac, goggles, knives.

Then there is the armor. The body glove will have to be removed.

The Nautolan stood and quickly undid clasps and ties with efficiency. Task complete: 17 seconds. Set aside armor, step out of boots. Strip. The leather cord tied with discarded precious feathers swings free and bounces against his chest when the upper body is unzipped and peeled away and he stoops to pull down the waist.

The Zabrak’s eyes widened as the Oopik was snatched from the air and dragged into the hole they had just investigated. Luck be her lady today, but she didn’t want to test it. “We need to get moving. Now. Now.” She ushered Sagitta to get the Ronto moving, preferring to keep up on the ground. She did not want to attempt another dismount at camp.

As she followed the herd of Rontos, she kept an eye out for that creature. She doubted the Oopik would be enough to satisfy its hunger.

They made it to the paddock and Sagitta lured Stomps out of the paddock as she slid down to hit the ground. Helping Vreva close the gate and made sure it was locked, “Would you be okay telling the others what we saw? I can go talk to the monk and … encourage them to set up something so they can stay safe…”

The Nautolan hybrid surely would have heard a whistle as he began to remove his armor. If he cared to see who was responsible, he’d see none other than Savi watching him closely from afar while they waited for Kathka’s response to their request.

“Hubba hubba,” they muttered beneath their breath.

Kathka turned to Savi as she spoke. “Yeah, let’s– uh, wait, what– OH!” Her ears shot up in surprise, and she deigned to admit she caught herself staring for a moment at a literally stripping Foxen before ripping her attention away. “Buddy, there’s a kid here! Get– get anywhere else, first, for kark’s sake…” An annoyed scoff escaped her as she pedaled her feet away, turning as she went. “I’ll be at the ship. You coming?” she called to Savi. Either way, Kathka whistled to her animals, who would shortly pick themselves up to follow.

While the whistle from the Shani was blatantly ignored along with 98% other noise, as was standard operation for display, the body did delay momentarily at kid here. Odd. Infants and children not usually present in the crowds. Sometimes in the pit. Those were days the mind refused but the body knew. Regardless, location and eyes irrelevant. Mission parameters defined. Body glove suit must be removed. Undergarments permitted? Intel required.

He signs to Flyndt.

Electronics stripped in body suit. More required?

The body hopes not. Chafing fraking undesired.

“Yeah, Foxxy,” Savi lead with a mocking tone while wagging a finger, “Use one of the refreshers over there.”

That was the last thing they gestured toward before taking their place next to Kathka. “Coming. We can talk more about hallikset on the way. Or anything to pass the time, really.”

More hallikset chatter would be good. Something else to bring Kathka fully back into the present. Although, a more productive idea hit her. “…I’ve got one for ya. What do you know about galactic fauna?”

Savi’s eyes seemingly lit up at the question. “A fair bit, actually,” they said, folding their arms in front of their chest as they walked. “Technically, my studies were focused on the biology of sapient species in the galaxy, but there’s a surprising amount of overlap between us and less intelligent creatures. Why do you ask?”

Kathka unfurled the list of animals again. “We need to figure out what the rest of these creatures are,” she said, gesturing to the torn-off bottom that took chunks out of several lines. “Some of these, I think I can fill in the blank. Great oopik. Draagax. Arqet. Archian mentioned ‘arqet’ specifically in his message. Nothing else would fit A-R-Q anyway, that I know of - and same with those other two; they’re close enough that I feel safe calling them now… But these two: H-E-R, and then one that just starts with R. I could spit out some animal names and tell you how comfy they’d be in a biome like this, but I need more to narrow it down.”

“Right on it,” Vreva replied as she made her way towards the rest of the group, a light jog between steps to get there quicker. Maybe this time their leader would hear what she had to say.

The red Zabrak slowed to the stop as she noticed the stripped-down Nautolan. Glancing to the others, she saw that they had set aside gear as well. “Did I miss something?” she asked to nobody in particular.

Sagitta stroked Stomps neck a bit. “Alright. Stay here, girl.” With that, she went back to the temple. “Uh… sir? Excuse me… sir? I’ve got some news.”

Sagitta yelped in surprise as she was splashed by mead, spilling onto her Mandalorian armor. Her pink hues glance over at the other monks, smoke coming out their mouths and smoke. “Um. N-No, thank you. Maybe some other time?” She said with a smile, she didn’t want to be rude.

Maybe I should talk to the elders too… Just to be safe.

“Your Rontos are safe and sound, I locked the paddock. There’s a hole in the fence where it looked like a tree fell and…” She paused, to make sure the monk was paying attention, “There’s a threat outside of the fence that’s predatory enough to make your rontos scared.”

Sagitta brows furrowed at them mentioning … Candy and that she ‘calls’ them for mead and hasn’t lately. “Um. Is…” She paused, wondering how to word this right so they owoudn’t be mad at her, “Is Candy a good girl? And those Shistavanen aren’t part of your village?”

Then she smiled sweetly, gently waving them off, “I’m positive.” Then she had an idea, “Cant drink on the job and I’m sure - ummm - being in there would be tempting.”

“Is that so?” Vreva looked out over the others. At least they seemed to be getting replacement gear for the time being. She scrolled through the commlink on her wrist and typed out a quick message. Afterwards she shut it off and slipped the band off her wrist to hand to the Shistavanen.

“Guess it’s lucky for me this is the only gear I’m leaving behind. Can I leave this with you? Don’t trust… many people around here.” She gave a side-eye towards the paddock as the monks’ chant boomed through the camp. She felt bad about leaving Sagitta to deal with them, but only slightly as it meant she didn’t have to.

“Also, there’s a big beastie near the pasture fence,” she added, thinking she should probably warn the Shista elder. “Tree broke through. It seems to be hunting, so I’d be careful with small groups. Picked off one of those big avians like it was finger food.”

Sagitta had to have her hand over her eyes as the other monks undressed and jumped in as she exhaled softly. Next time, she’ll ask Vreva to talk to them. She glanced over at the barrels. Part of her say just to leave it but what if they approach Candy? Are they leaving the village into the forest? Better to be safe than sorry. Candy took that Oopik no problem and Sagitta really does not want to encounter what it would be like to anger Candy.

She doesn’t have a wagon to carry those. Maybe she could convince them to point her in the right direction. Time to blend in! “Um,” she started with a smile as she approached the monk that has been chatty with her and picked up the jug. Dipping it into the mead, the jug filled. She poured over the monk, praying that she was right. She’s also dying on the inside. Someone save her from this.

“Ears bless the… mead?” She said slightly hesitant. “Thank you for the… offerings. Do you have a wagon I can use? To carry the offerings.”

Savran considered the words on the paper for a few moments, organizing a list in her mind of all the animals with names that matched the letters on the page. There were a lot of them. Trying to go down the list of all of them would take ages.

“Hmm. Well, this is a list made by poachers, right? Then, whatever animals are on this list are going to be valuable,” Savi explained, keeping a steady pace as they walked across the field. “Carnivores usually pay top dollar, either as pets or because people want their fangs, teeth, or want them stuffed. Creatures that are going to be endemic to this section of the galaxy, most likely.”

The monks’ shouts of ‘Ears bless the Candy!’ could be heard over the camp. Content that the Shistas had dealt with the creature before, Vreva gave a nod. “Candy… Okay…” Though hesitant to hand over her one form of contact, she had no real choice. At least her commlink would be safely tucked away.

“I should check in with the rest of my group,” she said as she took a couple steps back. She turned on her heel, then paused. Where to? She did not want to go back to the monks, but the rest were scattered and busy. With a sigh she made her way back to Sagitta, hoping she would not have to do any further diplomacy.

Whatever chanting was going on behind them as they walked, Kathka was glad to be leaving it behind. She nodded to Savi’s thoughts. “Good thought. That’s a start, but it still leaves a lot open… Come on, let’s do our round at the ship and then hit up Clar. She’s got connections - If anyone knows what kinda creatures they keep around here, it’s either her, or someone she can point us to.”

“Not a bad idea,” Savi said with a nod before hastening their gait. The sooner they uncovered the mystery of the targeted animals’ identities, the sooner Savi would have the opportunity to wet their blades. It didn’t take them long to reach the ship. Carrying their stripped belongings in a bundle tied off with their black and gray checkered poncho, Savi hung just outside the refresher while Savran changed.

While they waited, Savi decided to strike up a conversation to pass the time. “So, I neglected to ask: what role are you playing on this mission exactly? What skills do you bring to the table?” they inquired, “Not that I havr any doubts that you can handle yourself–I’m just curious. Good to know what your allies are capable of so you can complement them.”

Sagitta zoomed out of the temple as fast as she could, almost running into Vreva. Her hair was slightly soaked from the splashing of the mead and her armor was much worse off. “Hey! So apparently that creature is… part of the village?” She said confused then sighed, “The monks gave me two of these.” Sagitta pointed at the barrels. “I’m going to get Stomps and hook her up. I have a feeling we should take them with us… Candy loves mead and I don’t wish to see what she’s like when she’s mad.” As she approached Stomps, Stomps started to sniff and huffed as she took a step back. “…Stomps?”

Stomps grumbled and turned her head away. “Aw… Stomps? I’m sorry, did I not give you enough scratches? Here, let me make up for it!”

You’re welcome, the Omwati signed back after Tajga took the cloth. He glanced over to Foxen while he was going through his equipment, uncertain if he understood the earlier apology was for him as well. A sigh escaped him, turning away to notice the girl rifling through her stuff. Oh. She was coming with. The lad was torn between encouraging her to stay and letting her come, he would of wanted to but…the Omwati shook his head and past memories away, memories that have been surfacing since noticing the Shani.

If she comes, then he will protect her.

A nearby whistle grabbed Flyndt’s attention, not unusual a sound to here in a village even if lower and more drawn out than the usual calls he knew. His head did raise and catch the sight of Foxen undressing. For a couple seconds his gaze lingered until it clicked in his mind just as Kathka spoke up, Foxen, there is a child here, not your kin! The thought remained in his head as a question was posed to him. It took him a moment to realize what he was asking.

“Uh, uh no. No, only suit,” Flyndt stumbled, assuring, his face involuntarily taking a faint peach flush. He gestured quickly at Clar’s house. “Perhaps change there? I…I am going to see this Mymir, get polearm, will return.” He mentioned to both the Nautolan and Tajga.

. Standing, Flyndt crossed over to the man Dovak indicated and talked to him. Were there not an urgency right now, he would inquire what a sauna was. Any attempts, if any, at flirting went over the avian’s head. After a couple minutes of exchange, he received a bone tipped spear. A few testing jabs and arcs, and the Omwati was satisfied – odd as it was not dealing with a blade at the end. Balance to be adjusted.

Returning to his bag and Tajga, he knelt, took one look at the spear head and another at the cord on his backpack. Pulling his kal dagger out, he set to work removing the cord and affixing the blade securely snug up against the jagged bone. He was finishing the last few knots when a shout for a medic rang across the clearing.

Doon had begun taking off his armor not too far from Foxen. The commotion about the silent one disrobing drew his attention, but he didn’t see too much of a problem. They were in the middle of a Shistavanen village, there were far weirder sights. Still, he noted the others wariness at the act.

Thankfully, the wolf usually wore a thin padded outfit under the heavy metal armor. The black leather was revealed as his chest plate was split and removed. The wolf began tampering with its insides, disabling a droid brain defensive system and removing its core. Once satisfied, he moved to his forearms. With a flex, two Vibrosaws extended from his wrist to elbow, roaring to life and revving. He was slightly disappointed he had to disable and remove them as well, he was looking forward to using them. To… clear forest undergrowth.

In the removal of his armor, he also had to remove his robes, leaving exposed the hilt of the lightsaber Kathka gifted him. It was strapped to his left side, half slotted into a black holster that matched his armor and cloak. Doon pulled it free once the saws were removed.

He twisted and pressed on the hilt, popping open a side panel. He reached in delicately with his claws, and after a minute of fidgeting he pulled a large crystal out of it. He held it up to the light, frowning at it. The shard was dark red, as if it was crystallized blood. A crack ran through it, spiderwebbing through the heart of the crystal. Still, it was one piece, and the wolf tucked it into the padding on his chest. The hilt was tossed back into his bag.

Along side the discarded armor mods and weapons, the wolf left behind a personal shield generator, a squad deflector shield generator a few explosive charges, a plasma cutter, and a few pieces of communication equipment.

As the wolf was tucking items away, a small droid lifted from a pocket in the pack, making a soft swooshing noise as it’s shell shifted. It very much looked like it was narrowing its eye at Doon. In return, he sighed, muttering a soft swear under his breath and holding his hand out for it. “Yes. I forgot again. Just.. stay here and watch to gear alright?” It’s shell spun around its eye, expanding and contracting into another narrowed look as it ignored the extended hand and swiveled to look away, giving the Shistavanen a cold shoulder.

Before Doon could mutter another swear, the call for a medic caught his attention. It didn’t take more than a moment for him the grab a medical pack from his back and start making his way to the commotion.

Only suit.

Okay.

The Nautolan hybrid left the undergarments, then paused at the waist of body suit when Flyndt added, “Perhaps change there?”

The body does not know why. Privacy non standard. But the Foxen knows, curling lip: frak all of you staring assholes. Flyndt’s reminder stirs up the self below. It gets distracted by the peachy flush on that olive, lavender-stamped face.

He wants to press his palm to that cheek.

Foxen shook himself. Looked around. Noted the others, and watching Flyndt go to the merchant, Tagja rummage. He hrm*ed, then finished stepping out of the bodysuit, a *conscious choice. Going inside would sacrifice sightlines.

As armor was reapplied, he watched the not-commander Shistavanen. Inventoried all weaponry, stance, scars. Sanguine eyes narrowed to slits at the lightsaber that was revealed and then stashed.

Jediit, he noted, and thought, motherfraker shit.

Armor and gear reset. Discarded items stored in Flyndt’s bag, fingers lingering to brush the leather, feel the ties, eyelets. Hum. He thinks of the Omwati, turning to watch him forge a weapon anew, and the image matches with the days in the pit when those colors woke him up again, then with the ones of Flyndt head first in the comms array, the caf maker, the little droid.

The lips smile and the gaze softens.

Commotion. Medical called for. Foxen stood again, assessing if needed. He had a med pack, he could assist, but likelihood a jediit may have more ability: high. No need to waste his damn time.

Through the door, Kathka paused a moment, not expecting the question. “Oh, um… I used to be a bounty hunter… and, not to brag, but I am an excellent tracker, thank you.” She chuckled lightly. “…Maybe you can also tell, by the trio tagging along with me, that I’ve got a soft spot for animals. And the wilds. I’m just as home in the middle of nowhere as in my bed back on the Voidbreaker.”

While she was talking, one of her mentioned animals, the anooba, took an almost invasive interest in sniffing up Savi. His massive, lone tusk barely avoided poking her as he tilted his head around her body to get his nose close.

Spying Tagja motioning urgently, Foxen huffed through his nostrils and waved at Flyndt to indicate he was moving, then followed the large Shistavanen and muscled his way through the crowd of circling objects, category: villagers. He crouched at their edge, signing to Tagja.

What need? I’ll interpret.

Striped crimson feathers twitched at the wave and seeing the Nautolan push through the crowd, the Omwati dropped his spear and surged to his feet to follow. He nimbly dodged and weave between the closing wake of bodies behind Foxen without brushing a single one, then paused abruptly when he finally broke into the small clearing. Beyond the mass of Dovak and Foxen and even Mymir, stood Tajga before a heavily injured woman, one bloody paw gesturing swiftly as the other pressed against wounds.

Flyndt flowed up to Foxen’s side, resting a hand gently on his shoulder and leaning forward to catch his eye. A silent look and nod that said, ‘I am here, can help.’

“Oh yeah? Same here,” Savi said. “Well, more PMC work than collecting bounties, but I dabbled. That makes sense, though. You have that air about you.”

A tracker would certainly prove useful. Savran possessed adequate skills in detecting other beings through the Force, but that was in no way their specialty. Most of their abilities were dedicated to eliminating enemies.

When Kathka mentioned something called the Voidbreaker, Savi’s interest was piqued. “The Voidbreaker? What is that?

The anooba approaching and beginning to sniff them caught Savi off guard, and they cautiously extended a hand to try to pet it. "Good boy?”

Raising brows and looking at the wounds in question, Foxen relayed the request to Flyndt more slowly, then added comments of his own.

She says both legs need to be cut off to prevent bleeding out. Then to both Flyndt and Tagja, forgoing tourniquet for something simpler, We can apply ties. Stop bleeding for time. Two jediit here. May be able to heal. D-O-V-A-K and S-A-V-I. If not then cut?

“Big Arconan ship?” Kathka said, like she might know. “…Unless you’re with one of those other clans?”

The anooba’s ears flicked at the acknowledgement, but he sniffed around a bit more. He eventually seemed satisfied, sat, and yawned.

Flyndt hesitated on asking for an axe. Foxen’s suggestions may work and save the woman’s limbs. He started removing a couple blades from his waist, undoing his belt, and working at the ties of the purple scarf he wore there.

Savi?…Savran? No.

“Dovak, you heal?” the Omwati asked the towering Shistavanen who Foxen believed was sensitive. He attempted to reach out with the Force to confirm but there saw so much emotions and muddled auras blending together nearby to get a read. Plus, urgency. Time was passing. “We tie for bleeding, then heal, yes?”

“Spoke to the elder about it. Haven’t mentioned it to the rest of our group yet, but I’ll fill them in once they’re not… busy…”

Vreva’s attention was drawn by the shouts and forming crowd. Someone had been injured. Bad. She knew enough to patch herself up after a scrape. Could she help?

The Zabrak looked up at the stubborn Ronto. “I’ll come back to help you with that. Sounds like someone might have already bumped into that critter, or worse.”

She turned and set off for the gathered crowd. As she pushed past a couple that were just gawking, she peered over the shoulders of the others to assess the damage.

“I’m not a part of any clan but I have run missions with a few Arconans before, so I guess you could call me an associate,” explained Savi, who leaned against the wall of the ship while they spoke. “One of them is here, actually. The talkative Mirialan. An odd duck but she grows on you, especially because she can handle herself in combat.”

Savi gave a small nod of recognition to the anooba when he stepped away.

“I’m guessing that makes you a member of Arcona as well?”

“Stomps, please be good.” Sagitta grumbled as Stomps snorted at her but behaved. She gave scratches in between when hooking up Stomps to the carts.

“Seems like we both have a lot to tell the group..”

Sagitta’s attention was taken at the same time Vreva was. “Stay.” She told Stomps while scratching her neck quickly. Following Vreva into the crowd, she pushed and squeezed through.

“More or less.” Kathka finally stepped out, her climate-controlled skinsuit replaced with more general form-fitting clothing. “I was with Doon when he joined, aaand I guess now they’re stuck with me.”

The anooba stood back up with pride next to Kathka, and she gave his head a rub. “Glad wasn’t harassing you, was he?”

Doon looked down at the injured, nose curled in a snarl as he shoved his medical pack towards the bird. “Tie. Use the real ones first.” His other paw clutched the hilt of his Beskar blade that he slowly pressed into the ground, burying it a few inches. A backup, if they can’t deal with this via force.

His head swiveled, looking towards the direction he last saw Sagitta. He roared out “SAGITTA. Get Over here!” he wasn’t sure where she was exactly, but hoped she would hear.

Dark feathered brows furrowed as Flyndt suddenly had a pack shoved into his hands, but he nodded. Dropping his scarf at his feet with his belt and other bands of fabric that has fallen with it, he took the med pack. The Omwati set it on the wagon where the woman was laying still and hoisted himself up to kneel closer. He retrieved two tourniquets, handed on to Foxen, and set to work applying it just above the wounds on the leg closest.

Oh good. The Dovak could be loud. Useful for now.

Noting that Flyndt didn’t mention the Shani, Foxen let it lie. Instead he took the tourniquet Flyndt passed him and moved in synchronicity with the Omwati, crouching over the opposite leg and applying tie. Once it was done, there was little more than to wait. He began counting in his head, signing the numbers out to Flyndt.

If the healers did not accomplish work before countdown expired, they would need to commence with amputation or risk harm from the tourniquets themselves. Fortunately, he was in possession of another beskar blade – inventory of Dovak, updated – and the muscle capacity to use it to sever adult Shistavanen leg swiftly.

When Kathka exited the refresher, Savi took a step back to get a good look at her with folded arms. She was the same height as them but of a leaner build, albeit one with a well-defined musculature that peeked through the jumpsuit she wore. She looked like she could hold her own in a fight–maybe Savran would ask her to go a few rounds when after their mission’s conclusion. When Kathka mentioned Doon and how he was in some way responsible for her introduction to the clan and the Brotherhood, Savran nodded.

“So, you and the brooder already know one another,” they referenced Doon or “Dovak” with a mostly disinterested tone, though they had opted to not refer to him as “dog” again lest they offend her. “Are you two siblings? Or maybe an item?”

Savran took a step toward the ship’s hangar, shaking their head when Kathka inquired about the animal’s behavior. Glad was a curious name for a pet, but they decided not to mention it. “He was remarkably well behaved. Usually, pets and I don’t mix, but today I’ve been fairly lucky.”

Doon shifted, pulling his sword with him to the side of the woman, out of the way of the other two. He stuck the blade into the ground once more and reached down, setting his paw on the wounded Shistavanen’s shoulder. He spoke gentle words in their native tongue, easing them to relax, and assuring them that all will be fine.

As he spoke, a gentle radiance spread from the Black wolf. It settled nerves, dulled pain, and instilled those within a short range with an assurance that They were capable. Doon’s meditation was aimed at stunting pain, and killing doubt and fear.

The head rubs for her animal transitioned to scritches at that satisfying answer.

“We’re–” Kathka started, but hesitated. “…We’re a pack. It’s… a different sort of relationship. Maybe you’d understand… But we’ve got each other’s backs, through thick and thin.” She huffed, and her mouth slanted into something crooked between a grin and a frown. “Even when it’s rough.”

Before she caught herself lingering, she gestured toward the exit and started walking. Glad followed at her heels.

Savran obliged and exited the ship, walking with their arms folded in front of their chest and occasionally glancing at Kathka as they spoke. “Shani live in communities but nothing so tight-knit as a pack. Many of us tend to have a strong inclination toward living solitary lives, so communities tend to be small,” answered Savi, “Though, I do know what it’s like to have someone to watch your back. Or … I did. It’s nice.”

The hint of dolor carried in their words belied the confident expression worn on Savran’s countenance, prompting them to shift their gaze forward in case their expression faltered while the Shistavanen was looking.

“Never take that for granted,” they said, their voice holding a steely character that replaced any traces of sadness it once had. “You never how long they’ll b–”

Something changed. Since arriving, Savran could feel the subtle impressions of the beings around them in the Force, though the minutia of their individual presences bled into a faint buzz at the back of their mind. It was the same kind of background signature that formed whenever they were around a plethora of living beings–something that persisted on the level of the subconscious from which more salient information in the Force could be gleaned if necessary.

From that basal reading emerged a confluence of minute sensations of fear born from the minds of countless living beings that, in their synthesis, managed to breach the subliminal boundary and impinge upon Savran’s conscious mind with a single, unignorable impression: something was wrong.

-

This foreboding feeling–this omen–stopped Savran in their tracks. Their slitted eyes, unwavering in the predatory air they maintained, shot to Kathka and offered a fleeting glimpse into a deeper, more visceral sensation of worry that Savran was wont to conceal from even their most trusted allies. “We need to get back to the others,” Savi said, their voice contracted to a near whisper. Then, they started toward the village proper with a hastened gait.

Whatever stopped Savi mid-sentence, it caught Kathka’s senses in turn. The sounds had gone silent. The smells were different. The fur on her back tried to stand against her clothes.

“Yeah, I agree,” she said hushedly.

Without missing a beat, Kathka whistled, and Mong sprung up from the side of the ship to rush over. The varactyl slid to a stop in front of them with her voorpak clung to her head.

“She’s fast. Come on,” Kathka urged, climbing onto the varactyl’s saddle.

Savran hesitated upon seeing such a large creature, thought not because they were afraid of it. The prospect of riding it, though? That was another story entirely.

“I prefer running,” they began, only to scoff when the sensation they felt panged in their mind once again. “Ugh, alright. Don’t drop me, though.”

Savi gripped the side of the saddle and hoisted themselves onto it in a single leap, sitting behind Kathka. Knowing better than to doubt her evaluation of the varactyl’s speed, the Shani wrapped their arms tightly around Kathka’s midsection and dug their heels into the sides of the saddle to anchor themselves in place.

“Okay, let’s move.”

The counting continued. Status: still awaiting healers. Are they coming. The Dovak moves and places a hand on the meat. The meat eased.

A sensation passed over the body and the mind. Foxen stiffens. The feeling is recognized. The Otherness. It is danger. It is overwhelming force, and fire, and spent clips, and Minnow screaming, sobbing. It tries to bend him.

It is not Flyndt. Flyndt in his mind feels like–

colorsonghome

–this is foreign. Violation. A knife is in his hand.

He will slit throats.

But then: something else.

Not the Force. Something more immediate, material. Something he knows. Something like him.

It suddenly reeks of blood.

His mouth floods with saliva, and his gills flare on the neck and sides under armor. Nostrils slight. Headtails that still have nerve endings stiffen, and he is dead still. Now is not growling. Now is silence.

Blood. Everywhere. Silence in the jungle. Animals: category: threat, have all stilled/quivered/braced. Prey behavior. Hiding. Fleeing.

His skin prickles with a change in the air. He can feel it, as much as he can taste it, creature of the deep that he is. The heat of a body moving, shifting. Large, and behind the buildings/fence.

He does not risk snapping for attention. He grabs Flyndt’s wrist in the hand not twirling the knife to readiness and mouths, danger. Stands at millimeters/second. Steps over the tourniqueted meat. Proceeds to retreat, trying to back away with the Omwati behind him, if only Flyndt would go. He signs to Tagja, must run.

The populace will suffice for prey. The plan is: obtain Tagja and Get the Frak Out.

Shoulders relaxed with an exhale as a wave of sureness washed over his mind, through his limbs and nerves. He had not realized how tense he had been, and this sudden change felt familiar like training when he was younger –

‘Breathe, Senya, you are capable, believe–’

‘–I am not! No! Why does it matter, Serenosse? Raising a rock is not going to change the past, not bring them BACK!’

A clattering, the rock resting on the stump before him rolling and bouncing backwards. His chest rising and falling, attempting to catch his breath back through a raw, Force stripped throat. A light blue hand the color of a clouded sky, rested on his shoulder. And the sense of unity and focus that washed over after…

The Omwati shook his head and his gaze shifted to Dovak when suddenly his wrist was grasped, Foxen standing and trying to direct him behind him, away from the village gates. He stumbled onto his feet and after Foxen a couple steps, still processing. What was wrong? Did he feel the mind meld too? Something else? It has gotten dark. Crimson crest, dim in the twilight falling, flared in alarm and Flyndt planted his feet.

“Foxen! What?”

Then he felt it.

His breath caught in his throat and Flyndt tried to swallow around it as he turned to look towards the forest nearby. He sunk into the Force around him, the twilight melting to greys and shadows broken up by the white light of those around him, the fading flicker of the injured woman.

Thump, thump–

The living Force around stirred disrupted, a faint pulse barely visible oscillating from the wilds. It struck him, each and every time, a deadly anger like sharpened knives and screaming lungs into dust and ashes. Of loss and loneliness.

‘I. Will be. Their blight.’

This was revenge.

Gloved fingers curled through metal holes, unaware when he had drawn his petar. Sunset eyes snapped to Mymir, the villagers, and finally locked onto Clar, burning with accusation.

“What did you do?”

Flyndt goddammit who cares what they did we have to GO! Get Tagja and run! Danger danger danger!

But Flyndt already knows it’s danger, that’s why he’s alerting, drawn knife, planted feet. Won’t leave people.

Frakgoddammitshit.

He can’t yell.

Running unrealistic instinct. Whatever it is is here.

Tactical goddamn flexibility.

Back to back, close ranks, he signs to Flyndt, sticking his hand out in front of the Omwati’s face. They don’t have time not to be obnoxious. Get your bag. Our weapons.

He uses the signs for Powers and Pull when saying get.

As Doon focused on the assurance he emitted, something else blew through his aura like ammonia cutting through the breeze. His eye opened as he slowly straightened, his paw once more slipped around the hilt of his Beskad to draw it from the earth. The presence that was evident in the force wrapped around the village like a stench.

Doon’s golden eye was focused across the settlement, on the trees in the distance. He took a few steps from the injured, towards the fish and bird. He didn’t acknowledge anything but where he was focused. “That way.” He said in a strangely calm manner and pointed towards where he was looking with his blade. “Stay close. Everyone.”

Once more he took air in through his nose, until he could smell nothing. The calming aura of assurance radiated from him once more, stronger this time, pushing against the rotten stench in the force that had assaulted them moments before. The people here were protected, and Doon made sure they felt it as he stood prepared.

“Excuse me, pardon me, get the kark out of my way.” Vreva shoved herself to the front, parting the way for Sagitta behind her. If the Shista shouted for her, no doubt she would be needed for assistance. She looked over the injuries, noting the legs were the worst. And with the looming sense of dread hanging over everyone, they would need them.

“Don’t move if you want to keep them,” she snarled before gripping just above the wound and below the tourniquet. Her eyes shut tight as she willed the legs to mend, pouring her own searing essence into the wound. No doubt it would hurt. Rapid healing of bone and meat was not pretty.

It was different from healing her own wounds. The pain welling within her was not her own. She could feel herself draining as she took it into herself. Everything.

She could feel Sagitta approach behind her and reached one hand back to grab her. No time to ask permission. She needed this done, and she required assistance. <@216702440140046336>

The gathering crowd seemed to have enough of their crew. Through the death grip around her waist, Kathka led the speeding varactyl into the trade center. Mong slid to a stop just shy of a few frightened townspeople near her crewmates, with Glad running up shortly behind.

“Down, let’s go,” Kathka said to Savi, hoisting her leg over to drop. She quickly turned to the others to ask, “What the hell’s happening?”

”SAGITTA! Get over here!”

Sagitta can hear Doon shouting for her. Managed to squeeze through the crowd, Vreva had beaten her to the wounded and started healing. The Mirialan stood by Vreva as she squeaked in surprise when Vreva quickly took her hand, “I’ll help you, Vreva.” She focused. Deep inhale and exhale. It seems like it was working. Sagitta can’t shake the nagging feeling in her gut so she decided to tape into the Force to sense their surroundings.

PAIN

Sagitta cried out in pain.

‘Kriff!’ Sagitta shouted mentally as she fell to a knee. Her hand still held tight to Vreva’s. “I’m fine.” She said through gritted teeth, “keep healing.” Sagitta bit inside her cheek to keep herself in check and focused enough to help Vreva.

What the kark.

The noises. Distractions. Her head snapped around as she frowned. Eyes glanced at Doon. They need to go quicker. She exhaled sharply and remembered what Marick said. “This will help make it faster…” She started to channel into the Force and constantly replenish both Vreva and herself. Her grip around Vreva’s hand tightened as if saying, I got you.

Movement. Demands. The healers have arrived (finally). The body is steady even as the mind overclocks, noting: the Vreva and the Sagitta place hands on the meat as if to heal. Updated roster/threat assessment: >jediit, Tekuani, Dovak, Sagitta, Vreva. Possible: more. Status: frak.

Question asked. Answer.

He signs, discarding smaller details of nannering monks and mead and stupid fraking rontos, and Flyndt speaks for him to the Kathka.

“The woman was attacked, her legs…and a beast stalks us! Comes for revenge. Not sure what. Is right outside, ready yourself, hoo!”

Wait.

He rewinds.

Nannering monks. Tagja, saying, has Candy come? Have you heard her song?

The negative to this is a Bad Thing. There is fear on the face. Assessing. Damn monks made noises earlier. Candy – stupid fraking name – is a beast. Perhaps a bigger beast? He hasn’t just been trapped fighting predators. He is a predator. And predators know to defer to those above them.

He heard it, earlier. In the background. Watched the monks move their lupine lips. He can’t sing, hasn’t since Minnow was a baby, and that was ugly as shit, but Flyndt.

Flyndt is the song.

Candy’s song relayed on a 14 second interval. The sound is: huuuum-um…humHUMuHUM…hUMumummm. Pitch and tone approximate to…

He rifles through mental file: category: Home (Flyndt): subfolder: The Only Goddamn Music I Want to Hear For the Rest of My Natural Life. It contains inventory of all the noises Flyndt makes, subcategories: Natural, Mimicry, Stimulus (Evolving), Stimulus (Constant). He knows none of the natural ones will do, accesses the Mimicry roster instead.

Rapid action is required, but so is precision. Cannot risk misunderstanding. He chooses to trust Flyndt at his back and stows his weapon long enough to pull out his datapad. When finished he presses it urgently towards the Omwati’s chest.

Supposition: incoming creature might be kept away by creature ‘Candy’. Candy has not been nearby but we can reproduce her call. Make these noises at times, LOUD: * My pool filter in the house from 1 room away (4 seconds) * Pause (1 second) * Firing of 3rd + 4th cylinder of stupid name ship coolant system (2 seconds) * Power cell recycling on your halberd after charged strike (3 seconds) * Pause (4 seconds) * REPEAT SEQUENCE

He tried to lean near and hum along in example, but his vocal cords continued to break. Would have to be good enough.

He was a better weapon besides.

Savran leaped off of the varactyl’s saddle and moved one hand to hover near their vibrocleaver’s hilt. “I’m not sure but whatever it is, it isn’t good,” Savran said in response to Kathka’s inquiry, narrowing their gaze. “I’ve felt this before. This fear coming from the surrounding fauna. It’s the kind of fear evoked by a predator.”

“That is not what I ask–”

Dark hands abruptly signing directly in front of his face cut his response back to Mymir. Flyndt bit his tongue and heeded that words, but before he could carry out the request, Tajga was at his side. They do not know anything…you can feel it, yes?

He nodded, “Do you–”

Seeing her turn to address the old man, the Omwati let his question drop. The meld of focus from Dovak the only thing keeping him from sinking into the wrath emitting from the woods. A twist of his head towards their things and a gesture of his hand, his pack jerked a bit forward, then another meter across the ground until it fell and spilled the context – Mymir’s barking drumming his ears.

Kathka and the Shani returned. Where was the tree? Flyndt relays the answer to their question and a moment later accepts a datapad to his chest, feathers flaring in confusion.

“What? How this– O.K.”

Clicking through the count once before just going for it with little practice in his head, those around the Omwati was greeted with the rumbling sputter of a water filter, the catching purr of cylinders followed by a steady hum. Repeat. The near-mechanical sound nearly echoed that of a rumbling growl, one one might expect to hear from a predator. Though stirring to those around, Flyndt could not manage the complex noises very loud – barely heard by the gathered villagers and Arconans, let alone to reach over the wall.

A rasping gasp or encouragement left Foxen’s throat, the closest to a yes, that’s it, you did it, good! he was capable of in the moment.

But the others were very loud, and the sounds, while correct, were small. Uncertain if Flyndt could both scream with Force and make such precise noises. They would need to brace.

The Nautolan reached to grip the Omwati’s shoulder in assurance, then stopped. Leave be parameters still in place. Instead he nodded to Flyndt, signing, With you. Then he sprinted for the last 4 m – too far from Flyndt/Tagja danger too far danger – grabbed their spilling pack, and returned with it.

Grenades: necessary instrument.

Kathka’s chest was left pounding in the silence. The massive severed head, the walls, the– freaking monks, chanting, and these noises Flyndt was making… There had been a shadow moving in the tree line before, but it seemed unlikely, to the point it was improbable, yet there it had been.

As if to confirm it to herself, she pulled the list from her pocket and unfurled it to read the bottom line.

- R

Kathka cautiously turned her head to Savi. “You gotta be fraking with me.”

So much was happening in such a short period of time. Although they didn’t show it on their face, the rapid succession of events left them on edge. Most of all, the repeated banging on the village’s perimeter wall and the severed head landing near them sent the Shani’s nerves in a frenzy. And then, whatever that creature was departed as quickly as it’d come, leaving them all to ruminate on the nature of the events that had transpired.

Savi met Kathka’s gaze, and their eyes widened in sudden realization of what they’d experienced. The details came flooding in; information originally catalogued alongside a myriad of other trivial details assumed newfound importance in light of the rapidly changing context of their present situation. Images of a shadow, clearly faunal in nature yet unlike anything they’d witnessed before, stalking along the forest’s edge flashed in their mind’s eye. They’d noticed it when returning from the ship with Kathka, but they hadn’t paid it any mind. And the sounds … Savran knew of only one creature that made sounds like that. Deep, guttural grunts and growls that were better suited for a monster on one of those horror-holos than a living, breathing animal.

Kathka produced the list they examined earlier, confirming that she had reached the same conclusion that Savran had.

“Well, this mission just got a lot more complicated,” they said, raising one hand to massage the bridge of their nose. “Kathka, I think we both know what the last animal on that list is. And it sounded far larger than any I’ve ever seen.”

Another moment of disbelief passed before Kathka stepped past Savi, facing Clar. A growl slipped out. “You didn’t think to tell us there’s a kriffing rancor in this jungle? Blast it, I don’t– no, forget it, now we know.” She waved a dismissive hand a resigned huff, then turned toward Flyndt. “That noise, you were making a noise. Where did you learn that?”

The body braces. The mind assesses.

Multiple input sources.

Assess: * Attack by unknown creature. * Protective wall damaged at base. Guard towers fallen. Guards fallen. Casualty assessment: allowable. * Creature retreated. Supposition: Candy noise worked? * Light levels and ambient noise returning to baseline for time of day. * Monks silent (fraking finally). * Other Shistavanens silent. * Wounded meat screaming (annoying. Noises overstimulating to Flyndt. Likelihood shooting the meat to silence will upset Flyndt: high). * Secondary Assessment: Tagja too close to screaming meat, possible danger to Tagja. Recover and retreat. * The Kathka and the Tekuani converse. The Mirialan is still. Healing status unknown. Assessment: irrelevant. The Kathka asks question. Assessment: go the frak away.

Assessment inventoried. Action necessary: * Continue to interpose between Tekuani and Flyndt. If draws within 0.5 m, stab. * Protect Tagja, Flyndt. * Find the Askel and the father for Tagja.

It’s a solid set of mission parameters. The mind and body agree. Respiration and heart rate at calm baseline. Inventoried: incongruence. The blood pressure should be expelling the eyeballs from the skull with pneumatic force over this absolute shit show of the last 9.2 minutes of encroaching beast attack.

He is being. Controlled.

He does not want it.

No.

The body shifts, lowering knife 23° to ready but waiting angle. Bag of grenades is set down. The body moves to be again between the Shani and now the Kathka and group and Flyndt, but also between Flyndt and broken wall. The body crouches. Types again. Offers the pad to Flyndt. A query sits below the instructions of sound.

Sorry for ordering. Are you OK? Request: body forced calm. Can feel it. Jediit doing. Do not know which one. Please make it stop. Not happen again. Please. Violation. I don’t want it. Help.

She had been so deep in her work that the rest had been a drone of nonsense sound. The female Shistavanen’s scream was what finally tore Vreva out of her trance, leaving her blinking and dazed. The decapitated head laying beside her brought her back to her senses, however.

She recoiled, bumping into Sagitta who seemed a worse state than she was in. The sounds of carnage around her and the growing whispers plaguing her mind with threats of oncoming danger had her shaking. She willed her body to stop, but the whispers grew louder in protest.

Then it stopped.

She released Sagitta’s hand from her vice grip, but kept herself between the Mirialan and the sight behind her. Not the best to wake up to. The Shista seemed in better condition than before. Someone else could take over.

“Did pretty damn good,” she said as she put an arm around Sagitta’s shoulders, giving her a light jostle. “Take fifteen. I’ll need ten, myself. Don’t think that’s the end of that.”

She would bring Sagitta somewhere to rest before rejoining the others and sitting down on a nearby rock. Though she wouldn’t allow herself to feel it, she was exhausted.

“A rancor that is significantly larger than it should be,” Savran added when Kathka began interrogating Clar, “a female. I’ve never known a rancor to get that big.”

They paused to gesture toward the monks who had ceased their chanting, regarding them with a gelid expression. “That chanting not only scared it away, but it also calmed it, like you all have experience with this. That thing could have torn down these walls easily, but it didn’t–it just tossed a kriffing head over it for everyone to see.”

Another pause to take a calming breath. They were starting to feel agitated, and that wouldn’t end well for these weird monks and secretive elders. Savran hated people who kept secrets they shouldn’t. “It’s obvious that this rancor was sending a message. Why? What aren’t you telling us? I suggest that you make it real clear.”

When Kathka turned to address Flyndt, Savi did the same, and lifted arm in front of her midsection in the hopes of discouraging her from stepping forward as she had with Clar. They shook their head. “Many bir–Omwati are skilled at mimicry. Makes them difficult to track. Also, difficult to see coming,” they explained. That last bit would ring clearly to Flyndt in particular; there was no doubt that they both were aware of the small contingents of Omwati who had taken to hunting the Shani as their kind had done for countless generations.

A splitting scream and pounding steps, his stuttering song and stepping back with an arm outstretched finding Foxen not there. Press on, continue, trust.

Flyndt let out a shakey breath into the relinquished silence, his fingers breaking free of their frozen death grip on his petar heartbeats after – heartbeats that still pulsed in his ear. There were moans meters away where guards laid in pain. Vreva helping the Mirialan to rest against a nearby rock, both drained. Tajga standing with a knife of her own, the injured woman alert and wide eyed at her from beside her companion. The old Shistavanen woman at Mymir unconscious side.

Did she eat your spirit?

A stray thought, unwarranted, if sickeningly felt right. He could not shake the feeling the merchant knew way more than he let on, that he had a hand in causing the tight grip of vengeance and pain which had shook the air prior. Narrowed eyes stared unblinking at the man before pulling away to Foxen’s beckon.

O.K. he replied. The Omwati’s feathers twitched at the latter half. He was aware, without it he would have likely failed to keep the ‘song’ going through the assault. Flyndt nodded, handed back the datapad, and upon locating their ‘leader’ he gave a short whistle for attention.

“Dovak! Drop him.” He gestured to the Nautolan before adding, “please.”

No sooner had he turned back was a question poised to him. Before he could explain the random hodgepodge of sounds simply, Savran interjected. His brow furrowed, leery of the Shani but their words were correct. He raised his chin a bit, crest rising. It sounded like the reptile was aware of his kin that hunted back, the Haro'durs, Hawkers. An inspiration for to take control and fight. Did the Shani treat that with a bead of respect?

Flyndt nodded, “Yes, though I had not heard such sound. Foxen suggested pieces, like noise.”

Thank you, the Nautolan expressed to his bird, and then stood again to his full height, still keeping the body in blockade formation even as the Omwati answered the Shani. Hrm. Heard idiot monks doing it earlier. Called it Candy’s song. Couldn’t exactly sing it for you, so just matched tones to sounds I knew you know, he explained. Think these frakers know more than we do.

Doon’s focus faded as the ranger did, his meditation ending as the bird requested. He watched the distance where the commotion was, then looked around at the gathered. “We need some answers. That much is obvious.” He sheathed his sword, eyeing the newcomers. “Firstly, I have some information.”

He took a deep breath, then sighed. The adrenaline was fading.

“These Poachers are lead by one. Tirga. A female of upper - middling age. She is a leader. Talented in weapons and general survival. Don’t underestimate her physically. She’s also been said to be a talented shot with a bow, and her arrows are deadly not only on impact, but hours, or days later. Potentially poisoned.” He took another breath, eyeing the two that healed the injured woman. “In places like this, that poison could be horrific. If you have any suspicion that you’ve been poisoned, speak up. Tirga doesn’t care about what happens to outsiders. Extremely conservative, racist, even to other packs and tribes of Shistavanen.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, watching the others. “Any questions?”

The translation Flyndt provided for Foxen was enough for Kathka to agree with the others: these monks knew a lot more about this creature than any of them.

After Doon’s question, she spoke, “Not yet. I want to hear what they have to say.” Kathka folded her arms and joined Savi, awaiting the locals. “Perhaps it’ll shed a bit of light here.”

Vreva raised her hand and lowered it when Kathka spoke. Exhaustion had lost her her bite and snark. In its place was grim focus. “Yeah, don’t like fumbling around with bits and pieces. Got enough of the corners though to see the pet just bit the hand. Mead gonna be enough for it?” She pointed over her shoulder at the barrels they received as payment.

With the imbued focus dissipating, the subdued ire of earlier stirring again, giving bite to his tongue and sharpness to his shoulders. The Omwati pulled his gaze away from the merchant to the Arconan leader here, listening.

“Tsk, definitely poisoned,” Flyndt muttered under his breath, but nodded in understanding.

With everyone seemingly on the same stone about digging info out of these guys, the avian fished his commlink out of his sack and pushed past Savran and Kathka. He crouched near Mymir’s head and gave Clar the barest of a glance before turning back to the old man. Was. He. Dead? An outstretched hand with splayed fingers hovered over his listless body, tapping into the weave of the Force to confirm yay or nay. The Shistavanen’s aura was still present, alive. He did not bother pressing farther, he was no doctor.

Taking the small cylindrical comm and twisting components, Flyndt held it snug to Mymir’s canine ear and thumbed the switch. Static crackling scratched, loud enough on the amp up volume that the Omwati ended up cringing. But it worked. Eyes snapped open with a light jolt.

Mymir was awake.

Flyndt withdrew his commlink and rested his arms off his knees. Transparent lids crossed over sunset eyes as he waited for Mymir to get his bearings. He flipped his commlink about in hand, holding it like he would reverse grip a small blade.

“Awake? Speak. What do you know?”

Foxen followed after Flyndt, eyeing the Dovak and others and updating mission information with threat assessment: poison usage and asset leader: Tirga. A smirk crawled over his lips at Flyndt’s choice of awakening the Shistavanen.

Hah.

He stood behind the crouching Omwati, adjusting his position to 1) remain between Shani party questioning other Shistavanens and Flyndt and 2) angle to be Flyndt’s shadow. Otherwise, there wasn’t much to do but loom and listen, observe.

Foxen watched the injured meat attempt to exit the village with tourniqueted still partially shredded legs and abdominals.

Well, if they wanted to die.

Bye Felicias.

But only after they told them what they knew.

He turned his attention to the retreating forms of both the injured, bystanders, and the monks and others, moving to generally show he would bar their path, snapping fingers at them and pointing at the ground closer to Flyndt and the currently spilling their guts Shistavanens.

He signed, Sit the frak down we’re not done with you yet. All information. Now. Then you can drink or die how you please.

Doon tightens his grip on his beskad, snarling at those trying to walk away. He barks an order in his wolfish tongue “Stop. You will sit, you will answer us. Then, if you wish, you can flee to the woods and die to something we came here to fix.” His growl rumbles through his tone.

So, the poachers were led by a woman named Tirga. Savran cataloged that information away in their memory. She was skilled in the use of poison, as well. Although they had learned over the years to rely on their Force healing, which was honed enough to save them from most injuries barring those that were immediately fatal or extremely debilitating, Savran knew better than to underestimate someone who used poison, as well. A foreign chemical of an unknown composition was the last thing they wanted in their blood, especially because they had heard stories of poisons concocted using obscure Sith alchemical rituals. Some even believed that they could negate a Force user’s healing altogether. The odds of someone on this backwater planet having knowledge of Sith alchemy seemed slim, but they also hadn’t expected to see a kriffing rancor as large as this … “Candy.” What a strange name for such a menacing creature.

“That definitely sounds like poison to me,” they remarked to Doon, though they spoke loud enough for the entire group to hear them. “Mi–”, they caught themselves before revealing more information about themselves than they should.

After clearing their throat, they continued: “My studies have shown that this is a common application. Gets worse the longer it stays in your system. Some predators use it when tracking large prey: injure it and let it exhaust itself running while the poison does its work. If the poison doesn’t do all the work for you, you just finish it off when you catch up.”

It wasn’t the most honorable way to secure a kill but it was ruthlessly efficient, especially when hunting big game. Savran folded their arms in front of their chest while listening to Doon’s explanation. This Tirga sounded like a real schutta–probably didn’t have many friends, either.

“I have one,” Savran interjected, “How long has this Tirga been operating in these lands?”

-

Then, they acknowledged Vreva with a sublte nod. It was a good question. How the frakk were they going to control the thing? It wasn’t like they could bring the monks with them when they left the village. Trying to keep the unusual zealots from getting eaten would just slow them down and make them more vulnerable to attack.

When Flyndt kneeled before the eldery Shistavanen–Mymir–and used his comlink to shock the geezer awake, Savran raised an eyebrow, clearly somewhat impressed by the little bird’s ingenuity. More information came from both Clar and Mymir. Savi wished they hadn’t left their datapad back on the ship. Listening very carefully, they sorted each new detail into the growing tapestry in their mind to form a more complete picture. But something was still missing.

This was taking far too long for Savran’s liking. These damned fools and their xenophobia was making this more difficult than it needed to be. They were clearly unequipped to handle this problems themselves, yet still reluctant to provide full context for the only people who could. When Savran tried and failed to glean more information from the geezer’s mind, they sucked their teeth in a show of palpable frustration.

“That’s it,” she objected, stomping around Foxen and Flyndt just enough to grab Mymir by the leg to drag him across the ground to a spot next to the severed head of the Great Oopik. Gripping him by the back of his neck, Savran forced him to look at the thick blood that pooled out onto the ground.

“You see that? There’s a third party involved in this mess who’s turning this rock into a dumping ground for exotic animals, right?” They began, the words flying from their mouth like poison darts. “Who are they? Do they have something to do with Archian’s disappearance or ‘Candy’ going nuts? Why does it seem pissed at you all in particular?”

-

Savran paused just long enough to let his addled mind catch up. “Tell us what you’re kriffing hiding, now. I made a promise not to kill any of you today but that doesn’t mean I can’t take a few chunks out of you. Now start talking.”

Once they finished, Savran unhinged their jaw to let their mouth open to just a quarter of what it could, which was still notably wider than what other near-human species could. It was wide enough to show the full set of the Shani’s hooked teeth that curled backward slightly in their mouth, and the two massive fangs that unfolded and subsequently hung a full two inches beyond the rest of their teeth.

Silver-laced feathers raised sharply at his nape when Mymir was yanked suddenly from before him. Flyndt snapped around to follow the shistavanen, gaze lighting onto the form of the Shani as they latch onto the man’s neck and raised his head –

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump–

Torchlight caught on a set of sharp fangs flashing inches from the shistavanen. Sunset eyes wide and feathers clamped tight to his scalp, Flyndt froze in fear, unable to look away as he waited with baited breath for Savran’s next move.

Doon’s fist tightened, the grip of his blade squeaking out a groan of protest. He took a step closer to the snake, then another. He positioned himself at Savran’s side, glaring down at her. “Put him down. He will talk.” His burning eyes flicked to Clar and Savran then, not sparing them any of his animosity either.

Feathers raised, then clamped down. Eyes widened. Respirations ceased.

Fearfearfear.

Leave be!

It felt like he was splitting in two directions on a molecular level. Foxen glared after the Shani, impressed with effective application of intimidation tactic but desperate to make it better for Flyndt, somehow. To reach out and grip his wrist. To tell him, I’m here, ask, O.K.? To take the thing making him afraid and burn it to the ground.

But his help was not wanted. No consent. Permission denied. Refuse.

So the Nautolan just locked his jaw and limbs hard enough for the bones to creak, and only allowed 0.07 m of movement. He shifted yet again to be between the Shani and the Omwati, partially but not completely obstructing sightlines.

- All the while the intel continued to update in his mental mission files: * Multiple rancor, possibly larger than Candy * Third party deploying exotic predators onto planet. Supposition: the poachers themselves using it as a staging ground for their big game hunting. Less about trophy than about thrill (the body has feelings about this. The mind remembers the pit. Set status: ignore). * Starships drop animals (assessment: watch the skies) * Tirga and poison usage. * Candy appeased by mead. * Change in Candy’s routine. New aggression (hah, fraking as if). * Other predator deterred by Candy’s song. Action: they can mimic this with Flyndt/instruction. * Archian MIA, last seen: Cave of Fangs, armaments: low tech, opposition: Jawas, explosives * Tagja knows things. Imagine being able to talk to someone. * Rancor urine effective deterrent to predator, but not Candy/second rancor. Supposition: second rancor is bull. Male beasts marking territory observed. * Mymir/villagers know location of Candy’s den (assessment: thermal imploder). * Enemy inventory updated: multiple tribes on planet. Threat assessment: low. * Some dead fraker brought Candy in the first place. * Third party intervention began when Archian arrived. Supposition: he was followed. Idiot. * Monk’s mead recipe a deterrent. Investigate chemical composition.

He took his pad back out and started transferring files from the mind to text. Working with a group this large was. Exhaustive. But intel must be communicated.

Savran stared back at Clar with an unflinching expression. The size of their teeth compared to the rancor’s was of little concern to them. When Savran was the one doing the threatening, theirs was the only ones that mattered.

The same could be said for Doon, who assumed a more domineering posture relative to the Shani in what seemed like an attempt to intimidate them. But it was nonetheless as inefficacious as the female Shistavanen’s words.

It was only Mymir himself that convinced Savi to let him go, which they did by releasing the grip on the back of his neck to let him fall to the ground. “Start talking,” they demanded, “Otherwise, you’re not going to have a good time.”

Dovak stepping up and looking over the three, demanding Mymir would be released allowed a shaky breathe exhale from the Omwati. But it was not until his own dark shadow stepped before him that he was able to break from his terror-stricken freeze. His hand was sore when he cracked it open, a relief of his commlink pressed into both leather and olive green fingers. Flyndt rose, half-stumbled to his feet and slipped behind the Nautolan hybrid, back just barely brushing the man’s. And breathed, eyes closing as he steels himself once again.

Puhta…aaa!

It was so stupid to be so crippled by this one fraking person – someone who is trying to help apparently but…Flyndt exhaled deeply and tilted his head back, the short feathery crimson tail brushing against armor. He needed to step away, let them handle this. Foxen was here, could make sure nothing happens.

“I am going speak with guards. Stay, here? Ask about, hoo…antidote? Yes,” Flyndt asked, tilting his head to throw his voice up at the much taller man’s shoulder. Without waiting for confirmation, he stepped away and headed for the guards being tended near the gate, each pace farther from Savi his feathers lowered.

Flyndt raised a hand and came to crouch beside a few of the Shistavanens. “Hello, I can help with wounds if have supplies. What did see outside gate? Was it Candy or the other Rancor?”

“Fighting among ourselves gets us nowhere,” Vreva grumbled, annoyed that she had to be a voice of reason. Typically she was the one knocking heads. The infighting was getting on her last nerve. “Either we work together, or this place is toast. Those gates aren’t holding. You all need us, and we need whatever you got in order to form a plan. Cool your kriffing heads.”

Vreva stood and stretched. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders. Break time over. “Now I’m not the sharpest knife on the belt, but I’ve kept myself alive long enough. We got poachers hiding away in these Fangs, yeah? If I got things straight. And a whole bunch of nasty creatures from here until that point. Now if you can get us past those critters - honestly I don’t give a womp rat’s ass what you guys are doing with them. I’m just here to see the mission through with as little casualties as possible.”

The brief touch and lean of weight was a relief. Something tangible. He could be a wall, for a moment, yes.

Though splitting up in undesired, it’s not broken sightlines; and the objectives are sensible. Additionally, moves Flyndt farther from Savi. All positive outcomes. Of course, none of that matters so much as that Flyndt is asking him to stay where he is (and not follow), and so he will.

The Omwati departed then, not seeing the nod or O.K. sign. Foxen took to his new mission, once he finished his current notes. The competent seeming Zabrak spoke up, so he thought of giving them to her first, only to remember that without Flyndt, he wouldn’t be understood. Tagja couldn’t translate and Mymir was a) occupied and b) not trusted.

Sigh.

He opened yet another screen and then typed a message. Then he gestured at the Vreva and stuck it towards her.

Need to ask villagers/fraking annoying monks if they have antidote/antivenin. Supposition: monks might be more useful chemists than appear if already brewing rancor happy juice. Need someone to actually ask the shitheads though. Assist. Also: I have taken minutes of all intel gathered so far I was present for. Need to pass around group but then I’m stuck fraking silent.

Vreva glanced to the screen, eyes narrowed as she read. The corner of her lip twitched in a smile. She was at least content that she had a solid crew. Now if only they could all focus and formulate an actual plan.

With a nod of understanding she turned to Clar. “Friend here says you got some skills that might be valuable. Going to need antidotes with us if we’re going up against Tirga. Doubt we’d have time to drag our asses back through the jungle if we got arrows stuck in us.”

Her hand went to her wrist as a thought came to her, but then she remembered. “Kark… No comms…” Vreva looked to Foxen with an apologetic frown. “I could read off the info for you. My voice carries.” She gave a low chuckle.

The Nautolan nodded in assent to this, tabbing over to his notes pages and offering the datapad again with 12% more politeness indicative of an allowance to take the item from him.

Dragging ass with arrows: not desired.

Also: ‘my friend.’ Says who, lady? I didn’t even break your leg.

Maybe if they survive this and get to Selen, he will connect Vreva and Karran. Then the two Zabraks can be objectively bizarrely affectionate strangers to each other and not touch him, ever.

Flyndt listened to the list of injuries and pulled his med pac out. He passed a salve of bacta and a roll of bandage to the male speaking to him before shifting to assist the one with an injured shoulder.

“Use those to tend your wounds,” he nodded at the first man, then turned to the one beside him and gestured at a sash he wore. “May I use this?”

With given permission, Flyndt started securing the injured arm into a make shift sling. He moved on to wrap the injured ankle with some difficulty to account for the differing bone structure, but it turned out alright. All the while he paid attention to the talk of the Rancors. Strange names they had.

Not the male Rancor, does not come around here and smaller. Candy did it, not strongly nor try to grab. And who laughs at being grabbed by giant predator? Flyndt shook his head and focused down.

“Why do you think she, hoo, warn? Not reach or use all strength? Why did she do it at all?”

What the kark was going on. Everyone was doing their own questions and investigations. Gritted her teeth, her pink hues rested on the injured Shistavaen. The female was doing good and fine until she looked at something.

Sagitta groaned in pain. Focus, Sagitta, Focus. Who was it that she looked at that made her flip? Vreva was on her side. Doon was trying to calm her down. Not the Nauotlan and Omwati… They were too busy getting away after they tourniquet her. Who…

Eyes glanced over to Tajga. A shiver went down her spine as it seemed she was still shocked. It was lessening at least. There was a battle of fear and intimidation going on. The injured Shistavaen had freaked out again and tried to run. For once, the intimidation made her stay. Sagitta stood and shook her hand violently as if it was a way to make the pain stop. She made her way to the injured female.

Her hand grasped the previously injured’s arm as she glared at her. “Let me make one thing clear,” She gritted her teeth. The pain was almost gone. “We helped you. Including her.” She pointed at Tajga. “So why are you so anxious to get away from her?”

The villagers-monks replied in the negative to skill/knowledge/possession of antidote or antivenin; apparently their experience is with setting traps slathered in fecal matter in order to facilitate piercing/infection/sepsis.

Assessment: effective tactic. Also: fraking disgusting and not something he wishes to relive ever. There was enough feces/urine/sand/food and drink materials thrown from the stands in his wounds in the pit, thanks.

Mission given by Flyndt: find antidotes: failure. The datapad limitation makes irritation. Can he rejoin the Omwati yet already, or is the stay order still in effect?

Better to assume so. So he will wait and attempt to make the self useful.

We should make them give us a map. Update one of ours with locations of known trap pits, Cave of Fangs, locations of Candy den and any other animal den, poachers sightings, animal drop points. Additionally: mead or urine apparently fraking needed just to get around here, so taking some.*

As Vreva read from the datapad, Savran found themselves nodding in agreement with Foxen’s suggestions. Their lips curled into a mordant grin, and they emitted a hushed coo intended for the Nautolan hybrid. “Good idea, Foxxy,” they said, letting their eyes linger on his sculpted frame, “You’ll have to carry the urine, though. Or perhaps Dovak can if you prefer other ways to put those muscles to good use.”

While Sagitta waited for the female, the talk of mead didn’t go unnoticed. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyelids for a bit. Pain was almost gone. “The Monks gave some mead. They are hooked up to um.”

She inhaled a bit before exhaling. Her hand was still on the injured Shista’s arm to make sure she was going nowhere. “To Stomps. My Ronto.”

Foxen’s eye twitched.

Who the fuck frak was she calling Foxxy.

He lifted one middle finger at the Shani in clear indication of being used as a pack animal for piss. Then again, apparently the alternative was a ronto.

More animals.

DENY.

Ugh.

…did it once to a new merchant when tried to take a mead barrel away from her…

Flyndt finished the bandaging the man he was assisting as he listened to the other finish speaking. While securing the strip of fabric, his eyes wandered back to the others, to the injured woman in Sagitta’s grasp and the severed head near Dovak and Savi.

Suddenly the Omwati jumped to his feet, crimson crest flaring wide. Before he did anything, the lad remembered what he was doing presently and turned back to the guard who had been speaking with him. “Do you have this? Tending your wounds? You,” he turned to the one he had assisted and gestured to the still patching up Shistavanen, “other hand still good, give aid?”

Not waiting for confirmation he surged to the others, coming to rest behind the injured ‘merchant’ in the Mirialan’s grasp. Flyndt stared down at her, head tilting as he processed through the details, formulating the puzzle in his mind. His gaze raised and darted to Kathka.

“What is this animal?” he gestured to the tossed and abandoned head, “Was it on list found?”

Kathka frowned as she looked back to the enormous severed head haphazardly spilling what viscera it had left from its neck onto the ground nearby. Her eyes darted to the list again to double-check, and she sighed.

“Yeah, one of these was listed,” she said. “It’s called a great oopik… No idea if there’s supposed to be more of ‘em here.”

“Hrmm,” the Omwati responded in a deeper tone than his own. He crouched beside the injured woman and level his unblinking gaze on her, quiet for the moment while seemingly still debating his thoughts.

“Hoo, I spoke with guards over there,” Flyndt stated, crimson crest raising slowly along with an accusatory tone in his voice. “Candy gave warning like that only one other time. When a merchant try take her mead. But she did not have mead this time. Only Oopik. Oopik from poacher’s list.”

Sagitta smiled softly at both of them and squeezed her hand reassuringly, “Thank you.” She stood up and looked at the group. “Oh. I was informed earlier that there’s 10 poachers that they know of, out there.”

She smiled and made her way toward Tajga, “Hi. Your happabore is such a good boy. He was adorable earlier! Sweet boy can really purr!” She squatted so they can be at the same eye level. Her hand extended gently towards Tajga. “May I see the knife and where did you get it from?” <@571544963607822336>

Foxen shifted 34 cm to the left to be in better position to ram knife down at 47° angle into the Mirialan’s temporal lobe when she reached towards Tagja.

A curious question. And apparently another hint towards Mymir, who was becoming more and more suspicious the more information he divulged.

Obtaining his datapad back from Vreva, he typed and showed it to the Mirialan.

She said thank you. Query: why curious about the knife? What did others say?

Sagitta grasped the knife and watch her point to the old man she helped earlier. She nodded and read Foxen’s datapad. She gave him the one moment finger as she attempted to copy the sign of thank you to Tajga for the knife with a smile.

For a moment, she hesitated. Can Foxen hear? Wait. Yes, the Omwati mentioned it earlier. “It’s the same knife from Arqets that attacked them earlier. On the mountain I believe. Um,” her brows furrowed as she tried to remember more before looking up to Foxen, “Cave of Fangs. They jumped but I’m guessing Candy? Might’ve scared them away. Somehow Mymir got ahold of this knife so I’m going to talk to him. Is…there anything I’m missing?”

Kathka’s ear twitched at Mymir’s name, and her brow furrowed as Sagitta went on. “That’s kriffin’ sketchy. Mind if I step over there with you?”

“The plot thickens,” said Savi with a roll of the eyes. They stepped forward next to Kathka and Sagitta, folding their arms in front of their chest. “I’ll be joining, as well.”

Given this was a party now – sigh, group work, undesired: 9000% – Foxen debated leaving the useless monk and the useless batch of shit-trap making villagers and useless merchanta in favor of joining the interrogation of Mymir. Red eyes went to Flyndt like a lodestone pointing to its ferrous heart. No longer helping the guards, only meters away questioning the injured woman with dagger-like inquiry.

He shook his head. Half the damn group, including Tekuani, going to press gang two old fraks should be sufficient. If it wasn’t, these bozos didn’t deserve the intel.

Instead, he added the Mirialan’s extra information to his notes so far and then turned a question to whoever would voice it for him.

Confidential mission information, do not read out, just pass around: * Cave of Fangs blocked when merchants went to it. By what? * What did merchants want in or around Cave to be there while knowing poachers were in the area? Are there villages there to trade to, or is it a critical trade route they couldn’t avoid? Are ‘merchants’ perhaps poachers themselves? Poachers noted to include Shistavanens as well as Jawas. * Archian last known location: Cave of Fangs, gone to hunt arqets. Did merchants see him? Did they attack him? Rancor defending him? * Told of explosion earlier, perhaps Jawas opened the Cave. If so, for what purpose?

Need to know why the cave’s important too. Don’t trust anyone here. Agreements? Arguments?

Sagitta glanced at Kathka and then Savi when they approached them. “Hmm.” She wasn’t sure what to do. The more could intimate Mymir or it could shut him up. Foxen was busy typing away so Sagitta didn’t leave just yet, out of respect for Foxen to have something to say.

“Let me try to talk to him alone.” She reassuringly smiled to the females. She knows the old monk is by Mymir so maybe that could work in her favor? Not to mention she helped him with his cart earlier.

Foxen was done typing away, his hands was faster than a speeder as she started to read. Frack. How much did she kriffin missed? They had been busy while she was getting the Rontos back into their paddocks. Hopefully word about that won’t get out. She’ll never hear the end of it. “None for me.” She handed the datapad to Kathka or Savi, whoever grasped it first before making her way to Mymir.

Savran quirked a brow at Sagitta when she asked to speak with the geriatric monk alone. But they ultimately shrugged their shoulders, knowing the Mirialan was capable of handling it. “Suit yourself,” they said, “But make sure you don’t forget whatever he tells you.” A grin and playful wink appeared on Savi’s face as they took the datapad.

They looked it over before handing it to Kathka, and turned to Foxen. “They suggested we camp here for the night but I don’t trust them either. You and I can take point if we decide to move out. I know you’ll want to keep the little bird close, so he can tag along as well.”

After glancing at the datapad entry herself, Kathka muttered, “What do you wanna bet the explosion was the jawas blocking the cave in the first place?” The rest of the text needed more info before Kathka could speculate. “Either way, we should start there when we’re done, here. If we can find anything else with Archian’s scent - something not as tainted with others as that knife - I can find him.”

Sagitta smiled and gave a wave to Mymir, the Elder monk, and Clar as she approached them. “Hey!” She tilted her head towards the injured merchant. “She should be okay. We did the best we could!” Her hand gestured to the side, pink irises maintaining contact with Mymir’s, “Can we speak off to the side alone for a bit, please?”

<@571544963607822336>

With a friendly smile, she nodded her head once to Mymir. “Thank you.” She didn’t wish to upset or make situations worse if she could avoid it. She turned around as she noticed the Monk and paused for a moment. Well. Here’s hoping he wouldn’t do anything crazy. She showed Mymir the knife. “Where did you get this from?”

Sagitta felt her blood ran cold but she didn’t show it. “Oh! It’s very impressive work. Very beautiful, Mymir. A gift? No. Your village has been kind enough.” She smiled as she looked over it. “I keep hearing about this talk of Cave of Fangs. Is it a beautiful cave? I fancy nature myself. I love climbing so I was thinking when this is all over, I could go exploring in it.”

“And one other thing… did you sell any of your craftmanship to the Arqets? As a trade?” The smoke started to bother her, as she looked behind her, attempted to reach for the pipe, “Can you please not?” Instead her hand hit a splash of mead as she groaned softly. More mead. Maybe I’ll drink again after this after all…

As Mymir urged them nearer, Kathka picked up her chin and folded her arms. “Couldn’t help but overhear a bit. Arqets ain’t somethin’ you want to tangle with. Not only are they huge, but they’re sneakier than you’d think. If you don’t know exactly what you’re looking for, you’d think they were just boulders. By the time you got close enough to find out…” She loosened her arms to poke at her belly with her middle finger. “…they’d skewer you in the blink of an eye. And if you manage to avoid that much, you’d best hope you can run, ‘cause they’ll flatten you. They don’t give a damn if you shoot them, either.”

Sagitta let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Mymir..” Then she frowned. “Wait, Arqets are-” She stopped. She thought they were a group. Or a tribe. Not. Well. This was something she was going to have to tell the group. “It does help, a lot actually.” So Archian had been feeding Arqets before there’s the whole situation with poachers and whatnot.

So really. It’s creatures and animals possibly defending back against the poachers. Especially the Arqets if there are Jawas and explosions there. Those poor creatures. Sagitta nodded softly. “Okay. Thank you. And I’ll keep the knife after all.” She smiled, it was Tajga’s after all, not hers.

Made her way over Tajga first, she handed the knife back. “Thank you.” She signed.

Her eyebrow rose when she got to the part of Kathka saying they don’t give a damn if you shoot either, “What are we talking about… oh I have more information.”

As Sagitta moved on to go question Mymir again, Flyndt remained hoovering over the injured woman and aside her companion. His gaze shifted from him to her, then her leg and to the large avain head on the ground. He did not fully trust their story depite it being reasonable. Candy was warning for a reason, he could feel it in his gut and would bet that someone had tried to interfere with her meal. The omwati slipped into the living Force around him, those gathered suddenly washed in light auras, and reached out to touch the male shistavanen’s.

He was not lying.

A frown.

This felt like a dead end then. Yet, the threat was already laid out. There were poachers, dangerous predators, a missing child and father. If someone was an enemy in this village, the others can figure it out.

Flyndt finally blinked as he pulled away from the energies of those around him. He stood and made his way back to Foxen’s side, attention shifting to the Mirialan and Mymir, a knife passing hands.“She is asking about the blade? It is a tradable craft item…in some places.”

He glanced to Foxen, recalling a conversation about fruit. Seeing the datapad held towards him, he took it and read. Those were all good questions – he froze, spotting the time in the upper corner of the device. It was late, how long have they spent talking?

“I do not think we can camp here,” Flyndt said quickly, in agreement with not staying. He handed back the datapad and looked about the others who seemed keen on this cave. “I know this Archian went out alone. A child though is missing, alone in camp out there. We need to get to them. I can go check on him if those of you wish to support Tajga father. We have plenty of bodies.”

Sagitta noticed silence has fallen over the group. She talked low enough for them to hear. “Mymir did make the knife and he sold it to Archian. Cave of Fangs is Arqets territory. Poachers are causing problems left and right. Jawas, explosions, everything is connecting. Mymir did mention it’s worse out there at night and that Oopiks aren’t the only flying predator.” Her pink hues looked at Flyndt as he didn’t want to stay the night but his reasoning was much more powerful than just some ‘distrust.’

A child.

Her hand went up to touch her hair before realizing it was sticky from the mead. Instead, she simply crossed her arms. Her father would point out that it would be dumb to put everyone at risk for one person if no one could rescue that one if they are all injured or dead.

But her father was also a hypocrite and so was she.

She nodded at Flyndt with a warm and friendly smirk, “I’m with you.”

New intel added. Mission files updated. Respiration and heart rate increased.

Hooves. Horns. Massive. Resistant to blaster fire. He does not recognize the description, doesn’t think he ever fought one of them in the pit. He doesn’t want to. Frak, please, he doesn’t want to.

Arqets: not desired.

But what does it matter what’s wanted.

Never has.

This is mission.

The tenseness of Foxen’s neck muscles decreased 0.5% at Flyndt’s return to within 1 m proximity, and an additional 3% at sound of his voice. Splitting up: both desired and undesired, both efficient and high risk. Conventional wisdom of warfare and superstition lend to not splitting the party. He and Flyndt could go alone. Find the child. Take both children and evacuate. These are Flyndt’s mission.

He files away the new information the alcoholic-reeking Mirialan delivers, updating the notes. He will have to power down the datapad, but it won’t matter; the mind remembers.

Then the Mirialan is inviting self along to the mission, and he assesses: the female seems competent with animals, offered to control the rontos. There will be animals at the camp. And she is not Savran, category: keep the frak away from Flyndt. Additional ossibility: something for anything to chew on instead of he or Flyndt if something goes wrong, with a well-timed shot to the kneecap.

Acceptable third asset.

Affirmative, he gestures to the Omwati, with a wave at the Sagitta. We can get the Askel for Tagja. Not staying here overnight unless necessary with these suspicious as frak idiots.

He was going to add more, but the barest hint of movement above had his heavier pistol already in hand, aimed upwards 46°. The shadow melded into the night sky, but he tracked it ruthlessly. With another hand, he alerted Flyndt, danger, above.

“You sure you’re clear to do that?” Kathka asked. She casually pointed up. “That thing could be hunting quite a ways out. If you’re not able to evade it, you might not get there in one piece. If you ask me, either Flyndt should take his drakor alone, or let me make the run with Goremonger - stay light with our fastest options.” She glanced toward Sagitta’s ronto and shrugged. “No offense to Stomps, of course.”

Foxen nearly hissed at the Shistavanen female for her suggestion of Flyndt going alone, but–

Leave be.

The grip on the pistol tightens and does not waver.

Sagitta saw the wave and listened to Flyndt. Sagitta laughed shaking her head, “None taken at all, I promise.” She’s aware that her Ronto wasn’t made for speed. But then she sighed. “But here’s the thing. Stomps has all the mead. Granted you guys can take some of the mead but how much might be lost if we’re not careful?” Then she frowned. “Wait, where’s Do-Dovak.” She almost said his other name and caught herself in time. “We should have our leader’s input.”

Then she glanced at the others, “I’ll get him.” She muttered while making her way to Dovak. “Hi! I think you should be involved in this.”

<@160141735354171394>

Flyndt nodded to Foxen, in favor of that plan. Three were better than one when trekking in the underbrush. Mymir and Foxen’s sudden observations pulled his gaze to the sky adn the shape up above. He stepped back slightly before stealing himself and watching it for a moment, until Kathka addressed them all.

“I am quite capable?” Flyndt started, brow furrowing in a bit of confusion seemingly at ‘clear to do so’. He paused and listened to her suggestion however. Going alone screamed against everything he had been taught growing up, always take another when going out into the plains. That said, Drakor would be another, and if he went by sky with Tajga’s guidance and Kathka with her Goremoner on ground, that would be two pairs traveling lightly. “That…may be good plan. Perhaps both? That way there is backup in case things go awry but still traveling quietly?–”

He cut off when reminded they had a leader to abide to…Right.

Leader, scoffed the Nautolan hybrid, not expecting Flyndt to communicate this part but uncaring if he did. Priority is the kids, right? If get a say, I vote we take Tagja and the Mirialan and go. Leave her ronto to deliver mead or whatever. Doubt Tagja will stay behind. I wouldn’t if it was Minnow. Defer to you though.

With everyone gathering more intel, Vreva found herself obsolete and bored. She could add herself to thr voices interrogating this that and the other person, but she found it unnecessary. What they had already gathered was more than enough for her to work with. The rest was excess. She just needed to know who to punch and how to get at them.

She rested near the fire on her back. As she stared up at the darkened sky, she listened to what was going on around her. Babble babble. Some information. A kid in danger. She hated kids, but this Archian seemed to disregard them completely. She doubted she would like the guy if they met. He would probably like her less.

She spoke up from the ground without bothering to get up. “I can help find the kid if you need another gun. Tired of sitting on my ass, anyway.”

Vreva looked around at the Shistas settling around the fire. She was not moving from her spot unless the group was actually leaving. A male drew her attention as he seemed preoccupied with something. Something that he seemed to be hiding from the others, or at stuffing his nose in it so intently that it was bound to be important.

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, loud enough so the others could hear. She didn’t want to lose her comfortable patch of dirt.

Vreva narrowed her eyes and pushed herself up to sit cross-legged. He definitely had her attention then. “Nah, nah, you don’t shush me. Why don’t you show the class? Is it a love letter or some shit?”

“Give me the map and I’ll be out of your hair,” she said with a smile that held no such affection. “Pretty sure that would be useful for the group heading out to deal with your frakkin’ problems.” Vreva got up from her seat and walked over to the pair with her hands on her hips. She looked down at them with a scowl. “Or do we want to make things more difficult for ourselves?”

The Shistavanen female seemed to deflate once the Zabrak loomed over her. She seemed to not care to press the matter further, dropping the map at Vreva’s feet before curling back on herself to sleep. Vreva nodded and bent to scoop up the paper.

“Thanks. Glad we still have some heads on our shoulders.” She tapped the roll of parchment against her temple before turning her back on the pair. “I’ll leave you two to sleep. Goodnight~”

Vreva returned to the others, approaching Foxen as the main collector of intel. She held out the map for him. “Probably best to leave this with you or Flyndt. I get lost heading home from the cantina.”

Foxen took his eyes off the flying threat he was watching long enough to accept the new intelligence. He nodded to the Vreva with a grunt of acknowledgment and free-hand thumbs up for her successful intimidation efforts. Good thing probably. He’d been 0.3 seconds from going over there and making the female go to sleep.

On the opposite side of the village from where Candy had attacked in warning, a tail lashed in agitation against the green foliage. Drakor had wedged himself onto a a nearby tree that barely held his weight after being evicted from the cargo ship before it left. A light flutter and reposition ever now and then kept the beast balanced as the tree swayed below him. He was outside his territory, in a foreign land, and hungry. Plenty of things around but none that he’d prey on.

Large ears twitched. A buzzing sound of wings in the sky grabbed his attention. Sanguine eyes snapped up to the dark above. Without a second hesitation, Drakor launched himself from the tree, a snapping sounding as it cracked from the force, and into the air. Gravity pulled on his heft, attempting to ground him but his large leathery wings and the flaps at his tail base unfurled in time to grab enough lift to glide upward. A few beats of his wings and the Keeradak was easily meters above the village.

He clicked, low and repetitive, vision not the clearest at night. A ping in the distance. Drakor booked it towards his prey, furling his wings last moment and dropping a couple meters to snag the leg of an insect about the fourth of his size. It’s tail coiled and jab at the folds of his neck several times, once in the mouth – his gums tingling.

The insect, now spat out, fell towards the huts below before gaining control and limping back into the sky. Not one to drop a pursuit, Drakor hunted it down once again. .

This time it ceased moving, it’s chitinous armor cracking beneath his strike. Drakor caught it and landed down gently on the largest hut in the village. A deep pleased rumble sounded from him as he tore a wing off and let it flutter to the ground. The stinging in his jaw and fire around his neck was hindering, Drakor stopping his tearing to work his jaw and shake his head.

“Well caught, Drakor,” Flyndt commented quietly while they waited for Dovak, his gaze having switched to covering watching the creature while Foxen looked at the map. He noted the odd head shake the Keeradak did, mild concern rising. Had the creature injured him during the hunt?

“Critter gone. Drakor caught, I…want to check on him. Be back,” he informed the group.

Try, Foxen reminded himself, having tensed when he saw another creature in the sky, vitals increasing, only to realize it was the keeradeek. Drakor took out the enemy with speed and viciousness. Terrifying. Also, technically positive. Assist from ally asset. He nodded to Flyndt and said, tell him good job for me. Impressive.

With the skies clear – he checked and triple checked – the Nautolan turned his attention to the map he’d been given.

Flyndt nodded and jogged off to meet his companion. It didn’t take long to reach the hut, but…there was a problem. The nearest handhold to climb up was almost a meter over his head. No…problem… A couple attempts hopping from a standstill kept falling short. So, he stepped back a few spaces. The Omwati rubbed his hands together and exhaled. He ran, planting his feet and leaping as high he could without augementing himself, fingers hooking onto the ledge and–

–smack!

His grip had slipped and his momentum sent him into the wooden structure, falling down onto his rear. Ow.

Two seconds later, a giant chitinous corpse fell down half a meter away from him, stinger lodging into the ground. Flyndt stared at it for a moment as he caught his breaht, not injured anymore than bruised pride quickly forgotten because– that is a stinger, larger than any he ever seen. His gaze shot up to see Drakor rubbing and scratching his head on the logs above, a low grumble escaping him here and there. Gathering himself to his feet, he noted the Keeradak’s tail dangling lower and with a silent nudge of pardon to the beast, he used it to climb up.

“Drakor…hoo, here. Let me see,” the omwati cood as he approached the torso sized head.

He stared softly into the larde crimson eyes, hoping the beast understood, before shifting his attention to shallow cuts the length of his hand. Yet, what really concerned him was some discoloration peeking through whenever the Keeradak’s rubbing exsposed his gums. Flyndt shifted forward and pressed his palm to his snoot, humming as he slid his other hand along the stilling beast’s mouth until it parted, confirming his suspicion. Stabbed in the gums, surely that posed more danger than the superficial cuts to the neck.

Standing up, Flyndt pivoted and whistled, “Can someone…He is wounded. Creature had stinger, I know not if poisonous but he is not himself…Please, help, if can heal?”

As the planetoid’s sun drifted closer to the horizon, shadows that had hitherto remained at the locale’s fringes began their slow creep into the village proper. The small groups of Shistavenen residents started to disperse, a sign that the time for sleep was fast approaching. Some had offered for the group of volunteers to spend the night there as well, but Savran wasn’t interested in sleeping. Even if they were tired, there was no way they would be able to sleep soundly around this many strangers. They would remain awake–alert.

Those acute senses of theirs detected a commotion in the distance, prompting them to scan their surroundings for its source. What they found was the beast that the little bird had commanded so impressively earlier. It held in its jaws another animal that Savran recognized as a Preying Makthier–its massive stinger was unmistakable. An impressive kill, one that Savi themselves may have admired had it been the work of a creature that wasn’t under the command of someone who could turn it against them should their fragile peace dissolve over the course of their mission.

That peace needed bolstering, and Flyndt’s request was an excellent opportunity to do just that. Sure, this would be revealing their identity as a Force user earlier than they would have liked, but the potential gain outweighed the loss of revealing such private information. Besides, they would likely be able to put the pieces together when they engaged the bandits in combat, anyway.

Savran folded their arms behind their back and took a step forward. “I suppose I can give it a go,” they said in a nonchalant, nigh disinterested tone. “I’m familiar with the creature it killed and the poison it employs.”

-

Before they took another step, Savi glanced in Foxen’s direction and mouthed the word “safe” to him. They had no intention of harming the little bird. Savran walked over to Flyndt and Drakor and positioned themselves so Foxen could clearly see their hands. Then, they looked over the animal’s wounds.

The Nautolan’s head snapped up at the familiar whistle faster than a bullet from his gun. Aid: requested. Threat Asset Flyndt-friend wounded. Respond.

Assess options.

Inventoried: when female Shistavanen wounded, Tekuani, the Vreva, and Mirialan all assisted, laid hands on the meat. Typical behavior of jediit healing. Possibilities.

He discards Tekuani despite claimed familiarity because nearness to Flyndt unattended is forbidden. Using the body as barrier necessary. That leaves choice of the Mirialan and Zabrak, and– goddammit not safe get back here!

Timetable already critical due to ally wounded status. Urgency increased: 8000% when Tekuani walks over there their own damn self.

Typing inefficient. Also: he’s already thrown the Mirialan once today. Screw this.

He pushes the map into the Vreva’s hands once more for safekeeping as third most useful asset present and lopes towards the Mirialan where she stands with the Dovak. Uncaring of their conversation, he clamps a hand around the Mirialan’s bracered forearm at level above elbow. Hold: secure for transport without straining joint of arm or wrist.

Assist, he signs in the barest warning, whether or not she’s going to understand, and then drags moves her at top speed towards Drakor and Flyndt and Tekuani whether going is realized or not. He only stops when they reach the destination in 9.82 unacceptable seconds.

Nine. Point. Eighty two.

His eyeballs are vibrating.

He deposits the Mirialan and points. Makes sure he is positioned relatively between Flyndt and Tekuani, showing me your damn hands or not, viper bitch. Unfortunately, in his haste for mission assist, necessary tactical positioning has also placed him close to Drakor’s head.

That is where the teeth are.

Sweating: increased.

Once she had Dovak’s attention, “Dovak, I really need to give you the run do- WAH!” She yelped in surprise as her arm was grabbed and next thing she knew she was dragging. Her face quickly went from her usual green to entirely muddy red.

She was being manhandled

“Hey! HEY! I CAN WALK! I HAVE TWO LEGS!” Sagitta protested as they arrived at the destination Foxen was aiming for. When they stopped, she muttered under her breath, “You certainly know how to charm people..”

She frowned and petted the poor creature. “Awwwww! Are you okay?” She checked over the beast and cooed while giving scratches. “Well, Savi beat me to it. This sweeeet little baby right here needs some rest for a bit and should be good as new! Isn’t that right? Hmmm? Yes, it is!” She coos some more while giving some gentle scritches. “But let me help speed up the wounds hmm?” Sagitta felt the exhaustion even more as she tried to heal. Sagitta frowned and shook her hands. “Sssshhh.” She smiled while giving the sweet Drakor some more rubs. “Give me a moment.”

With a deep inhale, she focused and a glow from her hands while she tended to the Drakor. “Ah! See? Just a moment!” She gently says to the Drakor as if it understands everything she said. She ignored the tingling in her arms and hands.

Savi beat me to it.

Identified: agitation.

Would’ve been slower than threat if meant.

Still: assistance rendered. Drakor allegedly safe. Flyndt in sightlines, barrier maintained. Red eyes flicked between the Shani and the Omwati, awaiting a cue. Also between them and Drakor, because danger.

Vreva was confused when she was returned the map. She watched Foxen leave without a word, then glanced to where the whistle had come from. Gotta protect the boyfriend from the snake, I see. Well, Sagitta had the beast covered. Vreva did not want to wear herself out again over some creature.

When she saw that Dovak was free, she approached the Shistavanen with map raised. Best to clue in their leader. Especially since it seemed the groups might have to split to find the kid safe.

“Hey Boss, got a minute? And do you have any paper on you? Might have to make a dupe of this.”

Savran narrowed their eyes upon hearing Sagitta’s the way Sagitta spoke to the animal. “Why do you speak to it like it’s an infant? It’s clearly fully grown,” they asked, seemingly unfamiliar with the concept of baby-talking animals.

When the healing initially didn’t go as Sagitta planned, Savi shook their head. “You look terrible, you know. Maybe you should follow the villagers’ lead and get some rest, as well. If we’re going to venture out into the field later, we’re going to need you at your best,” they said before shooing the Mirialan woman away. “I’ve got this.”

They laid a hand over the creature’s wound and reached out to it with the Force, feeling the extent of the injury and where the damage was most concentrated so they could begin the work of restoring the lacerated flesh. The woman known in some circles as Tekuani had healed their own injuries more times than they could count, so healing this animal’s was a trivial task in comparison–especially given their knowledge of foreign biology.

“Beeecaauuuuuse they still have emotions. Feelings. And don’t you remember that happabore? How it reacted when I was gone? They are smarter than you give credit for. Isn’t that right sweet boy? Isn’t that riiiiiggghhht?” Sagitta ignored Savi and continued to help Drakor.

“Let’s not have any negative feelings. This boy here is verrrrrry smart. He may not react well to you trying to shoo me when we both can work together. And of course, I look terrible. Monks were more than happy to splash mead at me. And rounding up Rontos wasn’t exactly easy.” Sagitta hopes Savi drops it. She hated to be the weakest link and she definitely is out of her entire family.

She wasn’t going to hold her team back.

She wasn’t going to hold the creatures back.

And frack, *she sure as hell doesn’t want to hold Tajga back.“

With a more determined focus, her hands glowed brighter, and even the small scratches and bruises were gone. "There we go. You are suuuuuuuch a good boy! Yes, you are!” She cooed while scratching at its chin. But she was careful. If he made a move at her, she would respect his space and give it. He was, after all, not hers and always an animal. Instinct.

“Of course, they have emotions but why would you–” And then Savi understood. The happabore had responded shown a level of fondness for Sagitta that Savran had never experienced from an animal. They could understand how that would prove useful in a number of different scenarios, especially for missions like these. The Mirialan’s approach was a bit unusual for their tastes, but they respected her for its usefulness.

When Sagitta responded to their comment about her appearance, curiosity got the better of the Shani. They reached out with the Force to glean what they could about her surface thoughts. What they found made their lips curl into a slight frown–a fleeting break in their normal aloof expression. Although they only got glimpses of what she was thinking, it was enough for Savi to put together a clear picture of the refusal to disappoint that went through the woman’s mind, and a begrudging acknowledgement of her perceived inadequacy. A shame.

Savran shook their head and extended a hand to pat the back of Sagitta’s as she worked on healing Drakor. “You showed how capable you are when we first met. I’m sure you will do so on this mission, as well,” Savi said. They seldom allowed others to see beyond the guise they wore in public, but Savi decided that this was an acceptable case. Besides, allowing Sagitta to see the remnants of their old self would make her more likely to view her favorably in the future, which was crucial to their ability to act as effective teammates.

When Sagitta healed the remainder of Drakor’s injuries, Savi gave her a toothy smile and a quick pat on the back of her hand. “See? Proving me right, already.”

Doon had just turned around to address Sagitta as Foxen appeared, grabbed her, and dragged her away. His eye squints at the Nautolin, but before he could as much mutter a curse under his breath Vreva was at his side.

He turned to face her, expecting something to swoop down and carry them off as well. As that didn’t happen immediately, he accepted the offered map and studied it. “Simple, as maps go. Shouldn’t be hard to make a copy… If we have paper.” He growls softly, recalling the technology limitation he placed on the team. He glanced at Vevra, then tilted his head “Don’t happen to have any on you?”

Flyndt has tensed at Savran’s approach, having the forethought to not touch Drakor in that moment lest give him the impression a threat was approaching, even if it was true. He crouched within a meter of them and watched them and Sagitta work. It was hard to judge the coo’s from the woman when he was too focus on his companion being alright. And no, that was not how he ‘coo’d’ to Drakor.

The Keeradak had settled with a heavy huff and laid fairly still while the ladies willed the Force to mesh his wounds. The sensation odd but comforting somewhat, and the spicy tingle had dissipated. He accepted the chin scritches from the Mirialan, that large maw wide enough to clamp solidly on any of their torsos rising harmlessly upwards into the touch. A moment later, Drakor shook his head and leveled on sanguine eye with Sagitta before his gaze swapped to Savi the same, as if acknowledging their aid before he hoisted himself into a perched sitting position on the roof, head out of reach and paying them little head save minding their space on the roof.

The Omwati reached up and rubbed at the beast’s shoulder a couple times. He turned and dipped his head to Sagitta.

“Thank you, for helping,” Flyndt paused and shifted his attention to the Shani. He couldn’t bring himself to vocalize his gratitude, yet he did feel it all the same. With his sunset eyes locked on their slitted gaze, Flyndt nodded firmly.

Talk about a drastic shift. It seemed Flyndt’s flying companion had solved at least one of their immediate issues, though clearly not without injury.

Kathka approached behind the many others who stepped toward Drakor. Much as she felt inclined to help, so many hands were already on top of the creature, and there was the matter of its kill.

“You guys can take care of him, right?”

Before awaiting an answer, because of course they could, Kathka shifted around toward the insect and examined the corpse. To her knowledge, this creature should have had a gland that could work as an antitoxin to its own secretions. While the others chattered on and formulated new plans, Kathka drew her machete and began carving the massive insect open, making a bit of a blue bloody mess in getting to what she needed. A fleshy sac was extracted from the remains, not without blue stains on the fur of her arms and poncho.

Holding it up to examine, she asked openly, “Any idea who in town could help me make something with this?”

Kathka’s ear twitched, and her head turned toward the unexpected monk. Her nose twitched at the intoxicating smell of mead she picked out of the plethora of other lingering aromas.

“Yeah, hey.” She held up the bloody sac. “These things have toxic stingers. I’m lookin’ to make a fix for that, in case we run into more.”

Savran stared at Flyndt for a moment with a scrutinizing gaze. They returned the nod without saying a word.

Flyndt exhaled quietly, shoulders relaxing a bit. He glanced towards Foxen down below and gave him a nod too. As he debated his descent from the hutt roof and letting Drakor have a minute to recover by himself, the omwati recalled something the green-skinned lady said, his nose twitching at the strong smell off of her. He blinked and said simply, “If you need wash, the water troughs may be of use. We should converse with others, make plan and get moving though.”

Without waiting for a response, Flyndt leapt from the roof, channeled the energy of the weave into his legs in time to absorb the impact of landing. He straightened up beside Foxen and gestured towards Dovak as he walked. Come with?

Vreva’s brow furred and she crossed her arms. “Nah, that’s why I asked you.” She turned away from him to face the group. “Hey, any of you got any paper? Need to make a copy of this map if we plan on splitting up.”

“Did…were you not given the map? Return it when we return?” Flyndt halted to offer his stellar sugestion.

Doon frowned then, looking at the group before addressing them in a loud enough voice for everyone to pick up. “Who said we were splitting up? As far as I am aware, we are focusing on reaching Archain’s camp first for Aksel. Depending on the situation there, we’ll return them to the village before going after this Cave of Fangs.”

Vreva raised her hands and shrugged. “Thought it’d be quicker and quieter to scoop up the kid along the way, but that’s fine enough by me. When do we move out, then?”

The nod was returned, and the Nautolan followed Flyndt at distance upon the invitation. Always.

Discussion focused on mission objective: Askel. Good. Then their job could be half done. Still, the map comment was not invalid. The Vreva continued to be useful.

Map memorized, he contributed, gesturing at his head. Two working copies. Villagers made it, they probably have more fraking paper. Sanguine eyes roamed over the group quickly, including the Mirialan that had made the entire body twitch with charming comment. Disgusting. Deny. He pointed at her. Someone want to tell her to strip her electronics while she’s washing the booze off so Candy doesn’t try to eat her? Also: not actually bad tactical thought. Should douse ourselves in the rancor piss, deter predation.

Objectively: useful. Subjectively: do not want.

Sagitta was happy that the Keeradak had taken this so well. Then she laughed. “That mission?” Rose an eyebrow towards Savi before shaking her head. Then a pat on the back of her hand. Sagitta was startled by the sudden closeness and kindness from Savi. “Um. Thank you.” Sagitta gave Savi a friendly smile. Then her attention at Flyndt. Her smile remained while she lowered her head towards him in acknowledgment. “Seriously, if any of you guys need anything from me for yourself or one of the creatures, let me know! I’m here to help.”

Then Flyndt brought up her cleaning up. That… actually sounded nice. “After hearing that Candy like mead, that might be the best idea. I’ll bring Stomps over.” Made her way towards Stomps, she checked over her and was glad Stomps wasn’t bothered. In fact, Stomps was snoozing. She gently woke Stomps up and made their way over to the water trough, figuring that Stomps could get a drink if she wanted.

Sagitta leaned over the water trough and started out her hair. Stomps, annoyed for being woken up, pushed Sagitta into the water trough, causing her to yelp and a sound of splash.

Well.

She’s awake now and clean. Sagitta gasped from the cold water and glared at Stomps who huffed a few times almost as if laughing before nuzzling her face into Sagitta’s. Sagitta sighed. “I can’t stay mad at you girl.” She gently rubbed Stomps cheeks and maw.

“Not Candy, Poachers detect, yes?” Flyndt replied after translating the Nautolan. He left the map bits to the other, not understanding why they could not just use this copy they had in hand. He also made a slight face at the idea of dousing but it would be efficient maybe. The avian twisted and trilled-whistled to the soaked head to toe Mirialan. “Sagitta! Must go tech free. Poachers have sensors, yes? Remove or power down what can, O.K.” The Omwati signed the letters as he spoke them, habit with the phrase he learned alongside the gestures.

It wasn’t for him, and yet seeing gloved olive hands make the letters still made something unclench somewhere in his chest, reminding the body to whom it belonged.

Snapping fingers to signal, Foxen signed back, Poachers have sensors, yes. Mean that Candy drinks the mead. Supposition: if smell like it, more likely to get swallowed.

That said, he turned a question to Tagja. You’re leading us, yeah? Stay by me. Can ride on back if want.

“Oh.”

The hug was allowed, though with awareness of every knife on the body. He took the map and looked it over, nodding once.

Good job. This will help. More complete picture with our other map. He glanced at the group. Coming with us? Or staying? If they say no, but you say yes, we’ll just ignore them.

Sagitta frowned at Foxen, mentioning her needing to be stripped of electronics. At least they both had the same worrisome thought about Candy eating her if she was still covered by mead. “Why would elect-” But then Flyndt chimed in about poachers using them to detect. “Oh. Okay.” Sagitta sighed as she gently pushed Stomp’s face away and got out of the water trough. First things first, she wanted to make sure the mead on the barrows was secured and tight. They were going nowhere.

Heading back to the campfire, she saw her helmet where Savi had left it. Sagitta took off her armor and clothes, she wore a top that was only enough to cover her chest and her pants. The scars on her abs and shoulder, as well as her burn scar, would be more noticeable. “No electronics…hmm.” She sent out a message to her family.

“On a mission. Have to strip to avoid detection. Will update when back.”

When she was finished, she placed it on the pile of clothes she has. Then she remembered Mymir mentioned buying his stuff. Sagitta figured to let Mymir rest for the night and go to him in the morning for weapons cause many of hers were electronic. Made her way over the group, she was busy wringing her damp hair and working on braiding it tightly so it wouldn’t get in the way of the mission. “What’s next? Oh, I finished getting the mead loaded on Stomps.”

Savran shifted their attention to Doon and Vreva, nodding with the latter’s question. “I’m wondering the same thing,” they said, “Time is of the essence, no?”

Affirmative, Foxen replied, and then, in case she didn’t know the word, yes, good. With us then. Will all go. Get you your Askel and Archian back.

Once more he spoke loud enough for the loose group to hear. “Again, No electronics. No batteries, nothing. If you need weapons, speak to Mymir now. I will cover the payment.” He looked out into the darkening forest, frowning. “We will need to move here soon. I want everyone ready to move out in two minutes.”

He adjusted his armor, making sure it was secure. With a final look to those around he nods towards the trees and speaks once more. “Be quick. No more chatter.” he stands on the outskirts of the gathering, both paws wrapped around the hilt of his beskad while the tip was buried in the dirt.

Flyndt nodded to the Shistavanen and passed one look back towards Foxen and Tajga before heading to grab his spear. He was not entirely okay with her coming with as small as she was – spirits, was he understanding now all the times the adults in his village hesitated or denied him from certain activities? But no, he would not tell her no, this was her family and if she was in her shoes, he would wish no different. The Omwati kicked up the polearm into his hands. So he will ensure her safety.

Flyndt stashed the bag of electronics of theirs away and returned to join the Nautolan hybrid and young girl.

Sagitta blinked at Dovak. Once. Twice.

Frack! With that she ran over to the cart and didn’t see Mymir. “Hope he doesn’t mind..” She muttered as she quickly grabbed the quiver with arrows and a bow. “Haven’t used this in years…” She recalled Buir teaching her just to work on her aim. Looked some more, she also grabbed two daggers, a sword, bone knuckles, leather armor, and a 10 ft rope. Quiver was safely secured with the strap across her chest. Daggers and sword in their respective sheath, which she also took from Mymir, hope he doesn’t mind. The rope also was over her shoulder and rested across her torso. Frantically, she found paper and pen and scribbled a note to Mymir about what she took and to charge Dovak.

Grabbed the bow, she ran over and gently lead Stomps towards the group with an exhale, “We’re ready.” She patted Stomps on the neck.

After performing a final check to ensure that any electronics were no longer on their person, Savi gave Doon a curt nod to convey that they were ready. Most of the items they carried served only to make missions a little easier but they were by no means necessary given their skillset. All they needed to perform as an effective member of the team were their blades and the Force.

When Sagitta approached with the not-so-bad animal they’d pet before, the one she called Stomps, Savran didn’t step away this time. Instead, they regarded the beast for a few moments before looking to its Mirialan companion. The bow and arrow in particular caught their attention. “Going old school, are we?” they asked while gesturing toward the weapon.

Sagitta smiled at Savi before nodding. “Yes! It’s… been a while. When I expressed interest in shooting at a young age Buir taught me bow and arrows first. He wanted to make sure I learn distance, marking, understanding physics, aiming, and all that stuff before I was able to move onto blasters and rifles. So yes. Let’s just hope.. my muscle memory is good.” She grimaced but she was pretty sure. All she had to remember the was T-pose, the bend of her elbow, the crook of her forearm…

“Yes, you have to learn to walk before you run,” said Savi, nodding in agreement with the explanation. “Your buir was wise to instruct you that way. I started with a small filleting knife before I ever handled a proper weapon.”

Kathka looted herself a bow in turn before climbing back onto Goremonger’s back. A whistle from her caught Gladitusk’s ears, and he hustled after the varactyl’s trail.

As Kathka neared Doon and came to a stop, she turned her head both ways along the road out. “South, yeah?”

Glancing to Drakor still perched on the roof with a defiant head raise like he was not just poisoned a bit ago, Flyndt shifted his attention to his companions.

“I will not call him to come. If he does, he does, but I walk with you,” he nodded to Foxen, then jutted his chin towards the waiting Dovak. He lead the way over to join him and Kathka, halting on the farside away from her creatures.

Drakor possible asset: affirmative. Doesn’t mean it’s not a fast walk when he has to turn his back to the keeradeek in order to follow Flyndt, gesturing for Tagja to stay close. Being closer to the Kathka: not desired. All animals: danger.

But at least Flyndt stops farther away from them, obviously a kindness for him. It’s appreciated.

Thank you, he says as he strides by and positions himself 1 m away from Flyndt away from the beasts. Foxen crouched while they waited for final call, systematically rechecking every weapon and powered down system and holding the datapad tightly before he shut it off. Stupid. Only been back with one for a few months, didn’t even want to talk to these fraking people, and still, the lack of the channel produced irritation, static. Scoffing at himself, the Nautolan slipped it into its custom holster and drew out a small sealed tub of cubed fruit and two standard issue AAF ration bars instead. He placed one bar on top of tub and slid it across the ground 0.75 m towards Flyndt.

Don’t know if you ate anything since Ol'val, he explained, staring all around them in rotation: Tekuani, animals, tree, sky, others, repeat. But since we missed dinner.

It wasn’t until food had been offered for the third time this night, that a pang of hunger reminded him he had not in fact eaten since this morning. He crouched and picked up the offered food, signing Thank you back before popping that lid open and noming on – meilooruns, the fruit Foxen had not-ordered ordered. The sweetness of them melted past any poor associations with the food, and he ate through half of them before offering some or the bar to Tajga, if she liked.

Vreva followed after the group, keeping near Sagitta. The Mando had been stripped of most of her regular gear. No doubt in a scuffle she would have quite the adjustment to deal with. And the Mirialan wasn’t too bad to look at out of her armor.

She listened to Sagitta’s and Savi’s conversation with interest. Nostalgia caused her mind to drift. Survive or die. Those words had been spat at her. A blade shoved in her hands. Running before walking, certainly. Necessity demanded it. She kept her thoughts about her unorthodox training to herself. Maybe she would trade stories another time.

“Got some tough fighters on your six,” she said with confidence as she kept in step behind them. “Not looking to test our luck, but I’m liking our chances.”

Savran looked back at Vreva and nodded in agreement with her assessment. “Agreed,” they said, “It’s never wise to underestimate an enemy, of course, but I’ve completed more difficult missions with worse teammates. Though … the wildlife on this rock are a cause for concern.”

Kathka leaned down from Goremonger’s back to claim the finished solution. “Appreciate it,” she said with a nod as he left.

His pipe having run out awhile ago, the Neti slowly came down from his high. Where was he? Tall grass? wasn’t he in a village? Looking around, nothing seemed familiar.

Some sort of creature ahead of him was biting down on some other creature, trying to pull its leg out of the grass. Was the furred being an enemy? Or the strange bitey one? Best thing to do, nothing and let someone else respond to it.

When coming down from a high, hungover, or concussed, pretend to be the wise Jedi Master by not speaking or taking action and make the people around you think you’re waiting for cues from the Force.

Not to mention, he wasn’t sure he could talk at this point.

Flyndt stepped forward and tried to see what the scurrier was doing. But as the creature turned and shown off its bloody snout, the Omwati was confused and concerned. He looked up at Sagitta who also approached the critter. “Is it injured? Bleeding from mouth is not good sign.”

Being the last of the group due to Stomps, she noticed something within eyeshot. “Hmm?” She noticed the scurrier. Let go of Stomps reins, Stomps was a good girl and continued to follow the group respectfully. Blood. Was the poor scurrier hurt? “Hey there little fella, are you okay?” She frowned at Flyndt. “No. Can’t tell if it’s theirs or someone else though.” She approached it gently and froze at seeing something big and furry. Her brows furrowed as she subconsciously slide her hand to one of the daggers while she got closer.

Her face went pale green. That was a Shistavnen’s foot. “Hold!” She shouted at the group as she sighed. Even Stomps stopped and rested. Kathka was at her side.

“I found a body part.” Finding something like this was always rather grim. Did no one in the village noticed anyone was missing? It was so sad. To not be brought up and forgotten. Both of them made their way to the body as she groaned softly.

Part of the job. Part of the job Sagitta reminded herself as she squatted down to look at the body. “What do you think…” She asked Kathka as she pointed at the wound, “I don’t think this one was made by creatures.”

Kathka grimaced at the sight, but didn’t let her discomfort hold her back. She crouched next to Sagitta and shifted the corpse around to examine it from more angles.

“Call me crazy, but I think this might be a high-caliber slugthrower wound,” she said. After a moment, her look of disgust shifted its intent. “…I’ve got no sympathy for him.” The body was dropped unceremoniously at that, leaving a brand on his clothing face-up: CLAWS. “He’s one of them. We’re not the only ones after these poachers. And we’d best find out who - this body was meant to be hidden.”

With signal given for stop and discussion of body part, Foxen turned maximum attention to the vigilance of their surroundings, searching for any threat. He position the body in front of Tagja and Flyndt, content that the Sagitta and the Kathka go to poke at possibly trapped corpse, pistol smoothly palmed into one hand as he looked about.

Green. Water. Green, green, water, pulse, arterial spray, creeping veins, breathe, the water, green, it all breathes, fearsorrowhatreddidgust, denied, dismiss, green–

Red.

There.

Portion of Shistavnanen chest: ribcage (first-third), intact manubrium, broken gladiolus, left clavicle and left scapula, is pinned to tree trunk by missile projectile. Assessment: projectile trunk approximately 1.8 m in length, diameter 9 mm, pyramidal head, composition: bone. Supposition: animal. (Fraking because).

The ronto (classification: no) belonging to Archian passes by freely without triggering further trap, its head turned in the opposite direction of the flesh.

Foxen snapped his fingers, signing to Flyndt and shaking his head.

Wrong. Not meant to be hidden. Meant to be a warning. Probably got dragged down by something chewing on it. He pointed at the pinned partial ribcage in indication. “Explains why anyone went to the trouble of writing who it was. You don’t put a message you don’t want seen.*

Pausing to give the Omwati time to voice his words, he continued.

Big fraking crossbolt. Not a slug shot. Trap probably. Suggest we follow the stupid fraking ronto. It probably knows where not to step.

As he finished signing and Flyndt gave the closest possible translation – he didn’t get ‘crossbolt’, probably should’ve said ‘shot’ or something, too specific, hadn’t been taught yet, but did include the profanity, nice – Tagja spoke up. She stuck her body slightly around Foxen’s shielding one, showing him her paws.

The villagers didn’t make this, the pup explained frantically, short ears folded down. Neither did Archian, it isn’t one of our camp defenses or protection for the animals.

Well, so much for that theory.

Shitgoddammit.

Keeping it simple, the Nautolan added for Flyndt to tell everyone: Tagja says it’s not theirs or the town’s. Unknown. Danger.

Kathka’s ears twiched as Flyndt spoke aloud for the mute crewmates. Her muscles tensed as her eyes darted in all directions. Something was straining nearby. She froze.

“Nobody move!” she shouted. “There’s another trap somewhere– Ah, blast it!” Archian’s animals were still moving. She tried to whistle at them, but they ignored her. “Wait, stop!” Kathka cringed hard as they stepped closer to the sound.

The animals continued. Nothing happened. Her head whipped left and right, but she couldn’t find where the damn trap was hidden.

“…Follow that ronto, step-for-step,” she strained to the group. “Very. Carefully.”

She didn’t dare move her feet, but slowly reached behind her. Attie was plucked from the hood of her poncho and carefully held as far away from her as her arm could stretch. The voorpak squirmed, but Kathka held a finger to her mouth, and he slowly relaxed.

Suggestion: Foxen contributed, rigid as his former beskar and poised to duck to cover the shorter bodies he gave any damn about. Use other ronto and cart for cover.

Flyndt pulls out his petar and hands Foxen his spear. “If trap triggers, we be safe to cross. Man was struck in chest? Much taller than I. I go very low, find rope, cut. Yes?”

Sagitta noticed Stomps was wanting to follow the other Ronto. “Stomps!” She hissed as she quickly ran up to Stomps and grabbed her reins to make her stop.

‘Nobody move!’ Kathka shouted.

Sagitta froze as Stomps grumbled and stopped with Sagitta when she got ahold of the reins. What… just happened. “Here.” She tried to get mead for her to roll it over but it didn’t go well.

Somehow, Sagitta was a bit sticky with mead.

Again.

Oh, that.

That’s blood pressure in the eyeballs.

NO. NOT O.K. Foxen snapped sharply, barely not dropping the spear to do so. Even if the logic was sound. We all capable of– had they learned ‘crawling’ yet? Hrmfrak, going low. Low to ground, forward.

But the logic is not unsound. And Flyndt is capable.

Hating it, he adds, Believe you could. But. Safer options?

Crimson feathers flared for a second, it was not bad plan. This was safer. Flyndt exhaled a huff, glancing towards the Mirialan floundering with the mead before looking back. “O.K. but am still one lightest. I could find where is trap exactly? To go first.”

Not okay. Not okay at all.

O.K. he replied, glancing where the Omwati did. What was the Mirialan doing. Why. Can you ask her what the shit she’s doing?

Flyndt glanced back, “Sagitta, what plan are you thinking?”

Sagitta heard Flyndt as she sighed. “I was trying to push this bloody frackin’ thing and make it roll to see if we can trigger the trap.”

“Obviously, I"m not in the right mindset.” Then she had an idea. “I can tie this rope around the mead and throw it? Then you can pull? I don’t want to waste the entire cart….”

Foxen lifted his hand on wordless volunteering, looking to Flyndt. If something needed moving, he’d move it.

Seeing and hearing what everyone was planning, Kathka continued to hold still and forcibly regulate her breathing. “…Hey, if anything happens to me… someone better catch Attie.” She turned her head, looking for her other animals. “If this thing is weighted, Mong can carry some of you over… Don’t let her cross without Glad.”

Flyndt crouched and shifted forward a couple steps towards where they were hearing the rope tightening noises. He did not wish to proceed far in case they chose the Mirialan’s plan. His gaze spanned over the greenery and damp dirt compacted by ronto footsteps, unable to discern anything visually. A glance back at the tree the corpse had been pinned to, he realized it was lower than he thought. Shifting back towards Foxen a bit, he gestured the approximate height, roughly at Tajga’s shoulders. “May trigger this low.”

Flyndt turned and listened to Kathka, nodding solemnly.

FLYNDT’S safe, relatively, return less to respiration restart. Foxen pointedly shifted to be in front of Tagja once again. Then he offered, I can pull the barrel down like she suggests.

“Hmm” She tried to lure Stomps back but Stomps was munching on some tasty tree fiddy leaves. Sagitta nodded at Foxen’s gesture as she wrapped the barrow tightly. At least they can stand to lose one if it comes to that. With that, she threw the rope over to Foxen.

While the ronto ate like some lake monster, Foxen carefully passed Flyndt back his spear and holstered his gun. Gesturing, he said, behind me. please? as much to the Omwati as to Tagja, but to Flyndt it was a request.

Then, picking up the rope in both hands, he twisted one to wind it around his forearm, anchoring. With feet planted, the Nautolan flexed and heaved, dragging the full barrel easily off the cart and to the ground. It rolled closer, then stopped.

Nothing happened. No giant bone javelins came flying at Tagja chest height. The stupid scurrier came running after the barrel like it was a game, and then scurrying right up to his fraking boot.

DANGER.

Yeah, I know. But we can’t punt it, Flyndt and Tagja would be upset.

The Nautolan glared death at the rodent and let go of the rope.

Kathka tensed hard when the barrel came. Unfortunately, the sweet release she hoped to get, one way or another, was not given. The barrel had no effect.

“Gotta be kriffin’ me,” she muttered. Sure, maybe this thing just hadn’t been reset, but Kathka wasn’t about to risk half her torso on it. If they couldn’t set it off, surely they could check it, somehow.

Trappings. Think. “Okay, okay…” With a deep, steeling breath, she turned her head back toward the group on the incoming side of the trap. “…Foxen, you’re… precise. I think.” She gestured back to the ballista with half a torso on it. “See if you can get closer to that thing and figure out its trajectory, give us an idea where it came from.” Kathka looked forward again to the one person on the far side. “Sagitta, you gotta find the ends of this thing and follow the connections. This crap ain’t wireless - it’s got to lead to something you can disable. If we’re lucky, it’ll just be the one, and Foxen can point you in the right direction to start.”

The voorpak in her hand squirmed again. Kathka frowned. “Keep this bugger safe for me, will ya?” She bit her lip, hesitating, then lobbed the ball of floof as close to Sagitta as she could without moving her feet.

Flyndt glanced up at moving hands, watching Tajga sign. His gaze followed hers to the…tree…man. Right, the one Foxen had warned off. He had forgotten their presence. Clearing his throat, the Omwati willed himself to speak up to such an unsettling creature by his friend’s accounts.

“Ood? Must turn off all devices, poachers have detectors, we wish to go undetected,” he paused and glanced at the current situation and the multitude of animals joining them, “mostly.”

“hmm, ok then” the Neti responded as he began to pull out pieces of technology and turning them off. Finally left with just his lightsaber, Ood decided to risk it, ‘Not as if the blade would give off electrical signals if not switched on right?’

“h-Huh? Wait!” She was not prepared but the poor creature was already flying. Sagitta stumbled so badly that she couldn’t even focus on the telekinesis. Regaining her footing, the Mirialan jumped up and catch it. “You’re okay!” She said with a smile but then a chill went down her spine.

The fracking trap

“Frack!” Sagitta yelped as she landed ON the land. Immediately, she curled up into a ball and protected the voorpak from whatever attack may come.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

She was no fool. She was not going to tempt fate. She ran off of the line while clutching the voorpak rather tightly. With a sigh of relief, she went to the other end of the trap to find any hints or more information. The nerves still got the best of her as she slipped and fell to the ground. “I’m okay!”

Savi felt themselves cringe internally when they saw Sagitta fall toward the ground. Luckily, she managed to avoid triggering a trap, whose line now stood out clear as day to them. They followed the line in an attempt to find any other traps in the area, but found none. One thing that did catch their attention, though, were a cluster of purple dots on the tree where the ribcage was suspended.

“What’s that?” they said to everyone present, gesturing toward what they’d found.

Flyndt hummed in thought, considering. He’d yet to fashion one himself but the schematics had been shared with him plenty times enough from his own curious prying. “That…sounds correct, yes?”

A fearful gasp escaped Kathka as Sagitta fumbled. Her heart skipped a beat. But nothing went off. Not before Sagitta hobbled away from it. Relief breathed out of her.

“What’s what?” Kathka called back.

Sagitta got back up from slipping as she made sure that the critter was okay. It was snoozing. How can it sleep at a time like this? Ah to only be a creature. The Mirialan went to the other end of the trap. She frowned as she tried to figure it out. “It’s really well hidden…” She called out to the group and gestured to the massive tree. “I kind of see it. I can’t get to it without getting in front of it….” She muttered the last part.

“You’ve made enough sudden movements for now, don’t you think?” Savran asked, regarding her with a critical look. “Perhaps one of our teammates should give it a try, this time?”

Flyndt shares Tajga’s findings.

Sagitta glared at Savi. “You know what. Frack y-” She stopped as her brows furrowed. Her eyes glanced over at Stomps. And then the quiet chirps of Kathka’s voorpak. She landed on the line and she was okay. Because she was touching them.

“I got it! I think!” She said as she ran to Stomps, it was better and easier to use a creature so big that everyone can have a hand on it no problem. She would ignore her teammates’ protests if there were any as they made their way over to the line, her hand on Stomps’ neck as she patted it to lure her to the line and rested on the leg close to the line.

Nothing happened.

Sagitta exhaled, not realizing she was holding her breath the whole time while they walked to the line. “Okay. Everyone, make sure you touch a creature or Stomps here while crossing the line….” She held out the voorpak for Kathka to take while her hand was still on Stomps’ leg.

Kathka quickly brought Atrocitus into a hug as he was returned to her. She must have exhaled a full ton of pressure. “Thank you,” she muttered.

After a moment to breathe in deep, Kathka stepped forward once. Nothing. “Okay. Oookay…”

She turned and whistled. “Goremonger?” The varactyl stepped forward through the group, happy to see her. Kathka gestured to her for the rest of the group. “Everyone, hands on. She’s friendly, I promise.”

Savran pointed from the dots to a line running from them to a barely visible machine hidden in the grass. “That’s the culprit,” they said, “A scanner. Presumably it can discern between mere animals and sapient species.”

Savi stared at Kathka for a moment before releasing a sigh. They had already ridden on the varactyl once. Just touching it wouldn’t be so bad, right? They took their place next to Kathka and placed a hand on the creature’s side. “Ready.”

A scanner that would only detect animals and shoot at non animals?

Getting by requiring contact with them?

I’d rather be shot, he said, and lifted his pistol, searching for where Sagitta and Tekuani indicated. If he could shoot it, then maybe there would be no touching or bone javelins.

Flyndt began to relay his words, only to stop mid sentence and brrrwwooo at him angrily. “Hoo, Fox! No! No shot instead!” the Omwati told hotly, his crest flaring. It barely settled after a second as he brushed it back in agitation. “Not O.K. Just. Sorry. I know bad. But just small touch? Only for second. Please. Or! Maybe could hold on me, I hold Stomps?”

A gloved hand reached for one massive black wrist, then stopped, dropping with a huff.

Sagitta’s eyes widen. Did Foxen lose his ever-loving mind?! What was wrong with touching an animal if his own life was important? Though she was glad that Flyndt convinced Foxen not to shoot at it, especially with Stomps, Sagitta, Kathka, and Goremonger at the crossfire. “If that shot can clean through that poor bastard chest and leave a hole, you best believe it will hit Flyndt as well. Use your pinky for all I care. Just the tip, Foxen. Hell, you can use Stomps, she’s hardly moving right now. Pinky touch the belly and run over. Faster you are, while touching-” She made sure she was pointing it out, “The quickest this is over with.”

“…will hit Flyndt as well.”

DENY.

Absolutely the frak not.

He breathes in sharply, and a fierce hiss comes out. No way in hell.

But surely the Mirialan is only speculating. He’s twice Flyndt’s height, and objectively much thicker, even than that Shistavanen corpse. Muscle and bone are dense. His body would stop projectile from tearing through to hit Flyndt with any lethal or injuring force. It just wasn’t likely to be a through-and-through. This wasn’t a high caliber bullet. Likelihood of 2 m bone barb shot by non explosive force sitting in situ: 96%.

Plus even if it did tear through him in the abdomen/groin region, given relative height of Tagja’s chest, momentum would be slowed significantly.

≤ 3% possibility of Flyndt being injured vs touching the ronto.

No sound comes out of his throat, but when his mouth and hands move, it’s pure profanity.

The stupid shaking legs march forward the 1 m to close and the stupid shaking hand reaches out and touches the ronto and the mind goes blank.

Any percentage of causing Flyndt harm: denied.

Vreva watched as the others navigated the trap. No way was she aiming to get skewered, and putting her hands on the mess would certainly lead to that. Instead she hung back and kept an eye out for anyone who might stumble across their activity.

The Zabrak moved over to Stomps and placed her hand on its flank. She could understand the Nautolan’s hesitation. Touch was easier than riding, at least. She could tell there was a reason behind his fear, one she was not likely to learn as an outsider. Fine by her, so long as it didn’t prove a danger.

“Let’s get this show back on the road, yeah?” Though she spoke calmly, her gaze wandered across the shadows to their right side. They needed to get moving.

With jaw clenched, Foxen left the hand on the ronto and stepped forward one step at a time, the body as far as possible from said hand. If only it could detach without significant impairment. Also, setting off the damn trap.

Whoever had made this thing, since it wasn’t Archian, according to Tagja, he was going to shot in the face.

On the other side, he checked only to make sure Flyndt and Tagja were right behind him before he bypassed the beast’s leaf eating head by 2 m, crouched in the brush, and attempted to vibrate out of the skin with gaze fixed on the Omwati.

Flyndt followed suit, letting his hand trail along Stomps and his other gently, just barely touching Foxen’s back in hopeful tethering support. He exhaled once on the otherside and gave a nod to the Nautolan, to Vreva who had done the same to join them. As the others finished crossing with animals at their palms, the Omwati suddenly facepalmed.

“…I could have ghosted through this…”

Following Kathka’s lead, Savran kept their hand on the varactyl’s left flank as the female Shistavanen led it across the line. And as expected, neither of them were shot.

Doon silently followed Stomps with the small group gathered around, eye focused on the corpse before scanning the trees infront of the group. If there was this, there could be more. He didn’t like it.

Once everyone was clear, he spoke, still watching the wilderness around them. “There may be more traps like this. And the others may not have been stumbled upon yet. Eyes open.”

Savran kept their eyes peeled, ever vigilant in their search for movement in the area or disturbances in the Force. Archian’s Camp was a mess, to say the least. It looked like the place had been hit by a storm, and the dilapidated state of the homes and other scenery reminded them of their brief run in with the Rancor back at the Shistavanen village.

“It looks like quite the battle was waged here,” noted Savi while making note of the destruction that had been wrought.

As they looked around, their gaze settled on one of the houses that stood out amongst the others, which they figured was likely the home of Archian himself. Even more notable was the fact that his house was mostly in tact, especially the doors, which looked like they hadn’t been touched at all. Their ears perked up when they heard movement coming from behind them–not just any movement, but the sound of scratching. An animal?

Savran reached out through the Force, hoping to get a better idea of the creature’s emotional state. It exuded a frantic energy in the Force, like a hot coal thrown in a bucket of water. But Savi didn’t smell or taste any hints of fear or aggression. Even more peculiar, was the way the Force seemed to lilt around it. That wasn’t how most creatures felt.

They kept their eyes peeled but eventually began moving cautiously toward the two doors of Archian’s house. “There’s something inside,” they said to no one in particular, “An animal, I think. Feels unusual in the Force.”

Kathka brought up the back of the group on Goremonger’s back. The damage throughout the camp captivated her, with every busted paddock pulling deeper concern. Savi’s idea of a battle might have been right.

“Blast it,” Kathka muttered under her breath. She dismounted the varactyl and jogged toward one of the many broken fenced to inspect the damage. The thought of carnage, terrified animals struggling to not be hurt and taken, was all she could picture for the moment. “…We gotta find them,” she said, drawing her bow, “and make sure whoever did this isn’t lingering.”

She made to step into an emptied paddock to pick up a more defined scent, but her ear twitched at Tajga’s cry. Kathka looked around just in time to see the kid running to the building. “Tajga, wait!”

Savran was so focused on the doors and what lurked behind it that they hadn’t noticed Tajga’s response to the devastation. It wasn’t until they heard Kathka shout that they spotted the child moving toward Archian’s house in a full, grief-stricken sprint. Savi hissed behind gritted teeth and shot their hand outward toward the tiny Shistavanen, enveloping her in the Force fast enough to stop her in her tracks. The kid was fast, though. If they were just a second slower in their use of the Force, she would have reached the doors and whatever it was that was behind them.

A sigh escaped the Shani’s lips as they lifted Tajga just enough off the ground to make it easier to slowly float her back toward the group. Once she was safely back amongst her protectors, Savi let her feet touch the ground again but maintained their telekinetic grip.

“You have to be careful, little one,” they said, “It may not be safe.”

Savran shifted her attention to Kathka and gestured toward Archian’s house. “There’s something behind those doors, trying to get out. I can’t figure out what it is, though.”

Everywhere he looked: fences, enclosures, broken. Animal noises. The hungry jungle. Flyndt’s crest flared repeatedly, his hand on the Foxen’s arm as they’d grown closer, steadying.

The mud is churned. There are prints everywhere. It reeks of feces-urine-meat-animal stink.

Identified: panic attack.

Set status: deny, ignore.

The Foxen breathes harshly but slowly, forcibly. The body becomes still, assessing. The hand draws the pistol, the other warding Tagja to stay back. Others begin spreading out, relating findings, feelings.

“Paddocks empty…” Flyndt clicks at his elbow, sunset eyes fixing high on the house structure and the meat piled over it. They flick back towards the jungle, wary. “Hoo… And hear this? Something stomach growl, closer. Must be large. Very.”

Noise and movement under hill, Foxen related in turn, knowing Flyndt would be his voice. Movement in house and storage building. The body– I feel–

“Tagja, wait!”

His motion is cut off as the Shistavanen girl sprints from behind he and Flyndt with the remarkable and desperate alacrity of one racing to a loved one. He’s impressed, but also: nO.

- Then Tekuani raises an arm, gesturing, a familiar thing that makes memories in the mind. Set status: deny, ignore. This gesture does not rip a person apart as if drawn and quarter by invisible hands. This one lifts Tagja 10 cm off the ground and floats her back towards the group. He’s reminded of grabbing Minnie by the back of her dress too stop her from crossing the street without looking as a tadpole.

Running into traffic = air jail.

He does not want to put Tagja in air jail. That uses an arm and both are critical material right now.

Listen to them, he signs to Tagja once Tekuani has completed initial lecture. Stay behind Flyndt and I. Promise it. Tactical importance. Can’t rescue anybody to bring home to you if we lose you.

He paused, then resumed what he’d started to say earlier for the group.

I feel something like a kid in that warehouse. The Nautolan touched his headtails in indication, which were thickly coated in a sheen of humidity/sweat. Is there anywhere here in this camp your Askel could be hiding?

Sagitta sighed with relief when everyone passed through the line safely. She smiled and patted Stomps’ side. “Good girl.” She should reward Stomps with lots of treats and soak time at her favorite lake when they get back.

They arrived at the camp. A frown appeared. “What the hell…” She muttered. Bullets. Wall was missing. A massive huge hole in one of the padlocks. Then a cry. Tajga was running. “Wa-” Stomps accidentally got in the way before Sagitta could do anything as she struggle with her a bit. Luckily the others intervened and Tajga was safe.

Her pink hues glanced at the warehouse. She wanted to say something to her team. “You guys go ahead, I’ll check out the warehouse… And I’ll sneak in.” With that, she left her bone sword in the cart because it makes noise against her side so this was the safe bet to stay quiet. Her eyelids closed as she exhaled softly. Her body felt alive. Stepping into the warehouse, she quickly and silently made her way into the shadows and became still while vanishing from sight.

Sagitta frowned at seeing the chest. Should she… No. SHe shouldn’t do anything dumb. Yet With a soft exhale, she focused on the chest and attempted to open it with her telekinesis

The noise escalated. “What the frack..” Sagitta mattered. Cautiously and carefully, she made her way to the chest and pokes to look inside. She sees a hole in the chest. “Hello?” She called out. “Is anyone in there?”

Can you tell us the rest of the emergency plan? Foxen asked, while Flyndt repeated aloud for both mute individuals to allow Tekuani and the others access to intel.

Sagitta frowned as she heard the laugh but it wasn’t responding to her. Can it be? Is it Askel? “Askel? Is that you?” Damn it, why does the hole have to be small? She attempted to move the chest and it slid out of the way. Rock.

Frack the stars.

Her eyes looked around. She can tell they were pretty far down. She got up. “I"m coming for you Askel, hold on.” With that, she started to look around the warehouse and she remembered hearing noises behind it. No time to waste, she made her way towards the other area where she heard noises.

Vreva had been distracted by the sound of the pump malfunctioning. Movement to her left and a shout brought her attention back, though action was not necessary. The kid was brought safely back to the group with a swift use of telekinesis. Good. She considered securing the house herself, but the Nautolan’s words brought her attention to the warehouse instead. Secure the kids, then the rest.

“I’ll be right behind if you-” Sagitta had vanished already. Alright.

Vreva drew her Nightsister blade and approached the warehouse door. She closed her eyes, allowing the Force to guide her sight. Whispers echoed in the recesses of her mind, growing louder with her step. ClawmeathungerHello?clawbitefearwatchFrack. Images of claw marks raked on the side of the house, meat hung to dry. A louder voice drew her attention, urgency in its tone.

Watching!

Her eyes flew open and her gaze was met at the forest edge. A face of metal lingered there.

“Guys?” she called out, keeping her eye on the figure in front of her. “Got someone here!” Her muscles tensed, ready to spring forward if they attempted to flee.

No sooner had Tagja finished explaining than did Vreva call out. Foxen’s attention snapped back up at the warning, and he lifted his Reynolds pistol and aimed, hammer cocked back.

Hearing Vreva’s shout, Savi abandoned their investigation of the door (which had gone poorly thus far) and turned to see where the Zabrak woman was standing. They moved a hand to unsheathe their vibrocleaver and let it hang close to the ground while they waited to see what was going to happen.

Sagitta stopped for a moment when the snoring had ceased. Then a warm air and the kid laughed harder? Why was Askel not frackin’ responding to her. She made her way over to where she could’ve sworn there was more noise and sees a cliff. She could climb down and see if there was an entryway or opening that would connect where the hole was. A footpath!

Okay. She shouldn’t venture further without her team. Ran back to the group, “Guys, I heard a kid’s laughter, I think it’s Askel and-” She stopped at everyone’s tension and see that Foxen had his weapon at the ready.

The attention-turning sighting reached Kathka, and she hurried from the blown paddocks to see for herself, bow raised. When she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the others, though, she lowered her bow.

“It’s just a luggabeast,” she said with a sigh.

As if “just” anything, lady.

Foxen didn’t lower his gun. But he did sign with his free hand.

Tagja, does the Askel speak Basic? Can hear us? Would come if called by code word?

Barely able to speak and needing sign to communicate. This Askel asshole was dangerously close to becoming person-shaped like his sister. Time to deny that shit. The Foxen had too many people to focus on with two present and in danger.

“Askel is deaf? Cannot hear or understand unless see,” Flyndt related for them. “No speak also. Sagitta, you said found? Hear him laughing? Show us.” It was a beak-clacking demand, urgent, the Omwati barely softening with a half-thought, “please.”

[Foxen liked that.]

Without lowering his gun pointed at the luggabeast, whatever the hell that was, the large Nautolan crossed the clearing towards the warehouse and stopped beside the Mirialan and Tekuani, Flyndt staying with Tagja as they exchanged a quick hand signal for as much.

Kathka spread her hands cautiously and turned to the others. “Weapons down. Please. You’re scaring him.”

She looked to the luggabeast and let out a low, grating groan. When it gently reciprocated, Kathka stepped forward, slowly. As she did, she caught that it was fixated on something. She turned, slowly, to see for herself, and spotted borcatu meat hanging from the roof of the house.

“Huh… Mind that. He’s got his eyes on it.”

Although it took more than what they would have liked to force the door open, Savi managed to open the door to Archian’s house. Out came a Tooka that immediately rushed to the nearby treeline to relieve itself. How long had it been in there?

Sagitta felt so frackin stupid.

‘He is Deaf’

Her pink hues glared at Flyndt. Demanding. Sagitta bit her cheek for a moment. Battling a lot of thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what- Okay. There’s a kid in the hole at the warehouse. I heard laughing and a really really loud noise. I think it’s Askel because that kid was not responding to me… there’s a footpath behind the warehouse. It may lead down to the entrance or cave to them but I’m worried what the loud snoring was. It sounded massive. With Askel being gone as long he is, I think he’s actually is safe with the large creature so we need to be very careful not to anger it.”

Sagitta paused for a bit. She felt like she was stepping into the leader’s decision but there’s a child’s life at risk.

If this gets her in trouble, so be it.

“The footpath is big enough for Stomps to travel on. I want to take her and the mead down in case it is a Rancor… We need to keep it happy and less angry as possible without shooting at it. I’ll leave the second one here.”

Vreva backed off from the creature as Kathka approached. Best to let the critter professionals handle this, though the beast looked more machine than mammal.

Her gaze followed to where the Shista pointed. “Yeah, I got it.” What the luggabeast would want with the meat was beyond her, but it would be a simple thing to retrieve it. After a brief moment to judge the jump she sprang up onto the roof with a feline grace. The Zabrak crouched low in case the surface wasn’t as secure as she hoped. Her keen blade made short work of the ropes holding the slabs of meat.

“Look out below,” she said in hindsight as the meat flopped onto the ground.

Savi did as Kathka asked and sheathed their weapon lest they c ontinued to frighten the animal more.

Hearing Kathka’s request, Flyndt glanced to Foxen’s raised gun and rested a hand on that arm. ‘O.K. Let them,’ he gestured at Kathka and, after seeing meat slide off a roof, to Vreva. His attention immediately switched back to Sagitta, while still touching the Nautolan, and considered the information and suggestion.

“I can scout ahead, unseen. How big is hole?” he asked as he shifted to dip into the shed himself. Eyes adjusting to the darkness inside, he barely made out the whole. As soon as he leaned over it, the rankest smell and heat caused him to recoil and retreat back to the trio outside.

“Cliff? Cliff. I will ghost, scout.”

Now it made sense. Luggabeasts didn’t eat meat, but they were smart enough to know what did.

Kathka couldn’t help but smile and kneel in front of the feasting group of creatures. “You all have a very good friend,” she said softly.

No time to relax fully just yet, though. Not every creature was accounted for, yet.

Only with Flyndt nearly dragging his arm down with an O.K. did Foxen finally holster his gun. Even if the sudden emergence of all the fraking animals frak frak shit frak caused the body to wish to climb up onto the roof instead.

Horrible.

Cliff, Foxen agreed emphatically. Scouting good idea. Be right behind you. Suggestion: we might roll in the mud or something to cover our scent. Even when they can’t see you, these frakers smell you.

The body shuddered in memories the mind was ignoring.

A glint of silver drew Kathka’s attention to the helmeted porg shuffling in front of the others and taking a defensive stance. She smiled a made a small, high squawk at it.

“You must be the brave one,” she followed, lowering herself a little more with a trill. “So proud and ready… And good for it. They need a fellow like you,” she finished with a point.

The porg seemed to take well to her, and pointed one of its stubby wings in turn, but not at her. Kathka turned to follow, tracing the creature’s gesture to the pond.

“Thanks, little guy. Stay strong, yeah?”

Kathka stood and left the animals to approach the pond, curious.

Savran stepped passed Doon and into Archian’s home. They started to look around for anything valuable or for anything that could help them figure out what had happened to Archian and the other people here. Making their way into the room to their right, they found an entire cache of weapons and supplies, and a box of tranquilizers.

“This could come in handy,” they said to himself while grabbing the tranquilizers.“

In a large freezer they also found another carcass resembling the one that was on the roof.

Vreva kicked off the last of the slabs hanging off the roof then looked around her. “Hey, could get a decent vantage from up here,” she said aloud, though mainly to herself. With a leap amplified by the Force, she got quite a bit of airtime before coming back down on the roof with a loud crack. Her leg broke through and she fell back on her backside with a loud Zabraki curse. Bruised ego more than bruised body, but she had been more focused on the landing than actually seeing anything useful.

She heard rustling in the house and tried wrenching her foot out of the hole. “Hey, can you help me out here? Just give a little push up so I can, y'know…” She wiggled her foot, hoping that whoever was in the house could see it. “…Stuck.”

Savran completely missed a foot shoot through the ceiling of Archian’s house while they were looking for supplies. When they heard Vreva’s voice, though, they lifted their head to see what she needed help with. When they saw the sole foot wiggling through the hole, they chuckled.

“Well, quite a mess you’ve stepped in there,” they said before shrugging their shoulders. “Yeah, I can help.”

They extended their hand and used the Force to give the Zabrak’s foot a good push to help her free herself.

Vreva had given a good tug just as she was pushed upward by the Shani’s telekinetic shove. She spiraled upward end over end before finally righting herself in the air. As she came back down, she noticed a distinct plant in the distance. She slid off the roof and touched down with ease.

“Psh, good thing you didn’t knock me into those,” she said as she headed into the house. She leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed and gestured over her shoulder. “Our friend Archian in the narcotics biz? Doubt those Relkass sentinal plants just blew in here. Probably sell for quite a few creds.”

One hand found its place on their hip when Vreva entered the house. Savi quirked a brow at the mention of Relkass Sentinel Plants. That was a species of plant they hadn’t heard about in ages.

“Certainly seems that way,” they said, “Spent a few weeks on Relkass during a mission. One of the pack animals there went into a frenzy whenever they ate those plants and started attacking the locals. Induces potent hallucinogenic effects on most near-human species, though.”

It appeared that this Archian was involved in far more than any of them realized. Troublesome. Savran decided now was a good enough time to share what they’d found with Vreva, so they held up the box of tranquilizers. “Found these,” they said, “Should come in handy if we need to tranquilize any wildlife, or people, we come across. A handful of other supplies and another Borcatu carcass is in the back, as well. I think we should get the big guy to carry that out, though.”

As if on cue, Doon’s large head appeared over Vreva’s shoulder. He cast his gaze around the room that he could see, crouched in the doorway behind Vreva. “Anyone else notice the Slug holes?” He gestured with his chin towards the wall displaying a good amount of bullet holes.

Savi took briefly glanced in the direction Doon gestured before nodding at him. “Yeah, I did,” they said, “Looks like Archian made someone angry, huh?”

Was the query rhetorical.

Of course the bullet holes were noticed.

Obvious observations everywhere.

Let’s go, Foxen signed to Flyndt, gesturing to include Sagitta as – begrudgingly – fifth most useful.

Vreva had raised a hand when Doon’s head reached her peripheral, an instinct to strike cut short. Her nose wrinkled as she moved aside to provide some space. Personal bubble, much? She sheathed her blade and glanced around to the holes mentioned.

“Yeah, definitely was an attack here. We should keep someone looking out on the perimeter. With as much noise as we’re making, someone’s bound to come calling. Saw movement along the treeline as I was up there. Not too keen on rustling around looking for what caused it, but we should grab the kid and move out ASAP.”

Sagitta nodded at Flyndt, Foxen, and Tajga. “I understand the urgency. But we need a team for this. We have to communicate with everyone.” She gave a friendly smile to the trio. “Let’s go meet up with them. The faster we do this, the better. I do agree with Foxen on that.” As they started walking to the team, Sagitta was trailing behind and noticed something at the corner of her eye.

A chest.

How odd. Wasn’t that there before?

Curious, she went to check it out. OPened it, her eyes widen at seeing her favorite fruits and vegetables. Few meat jerkies. And juices. “Oh wow…” Her stomach growled at her.

She wasn’t greedy though. “Hey, guys, check this out. Maybe we should get our energies back up.” She called out to the group while dragging the chest towards them.

Sagitta brought the chest over and opened it up again. “See!?” She grabbed one of the fruits and started munching on it. “Frack. I needed this pick me up.”

Savran gave Vreva a knowing look when Doon appeared and chuckled to themselves before turning to continue looking around the house.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost finished up here, so once we’re finished here, we can start clearing out. Speaking of which, Doon, could you grab this Dorcatu carcass? It’s in the freezer back here.”

Savi’s search revealed a small chest, which to their surprise was filled with alcohol. One bottle in particular caught their eye: Kattadan Rosé. “Jackpot,” they announced while putting the bottle back in the chest and wheeling it out to the front. “Well, I found a few bottles of wine and homebrewed alcohol. This Archian has good taste.”

Foxen’s jaw actually dropped 2 mm at the sudden onset of drinking and snacking.

His gun was holstered only so his hands could fly like knives.

‘PICK ME UP?’ THERE IS CHILD IN THAT HOLE THAT LIKELY NOT HAD FOOD OR WATER SINCE DAY PLUS OF ATTACK. AND YOU ARE FRAKING DRINKING? WE DONT NEED A TEAM WE NEED GO GO.

The noise he made was disgusted. The Nautolan sneered openly, barely tempering the expression as he rounded towards Tagja, who was hungrily eating herself.

Stay here. Eat if need. We will return with Askel.

Sanguine eyes looked at everyone else like they were less than dirt before turning to Flyndt. They’d find the cliffs.

Sagitta was startled and in shock by Foxen’s words. Sagitta was a bit hurt by Foxen’s verbal attack and even felt guilty for needing some nourishment and fruits. Sugar. Energy. Wasn’t… that important?

Sagitta smiled softly to show Tajga she was okay. Tajga took a few too and started eating. Then she took more. Sagitta frowned and paused for a moment.

Her pink eyes glanced over towards the warehouse. Almost two days. “Hmm.” She went inside the house and noticed the note. Would that even be important right now? Right. Focus. Find a bag. She found a nice decent backpack and dumped the contents in it. If this fella Archian complains later, that’s on him. He can frackin’ bite her.

Heading back out, she put in some jerkies, fruits, vegetables, and bottled water into the bag. If Tajga was so hungry, she can’t imagine how Askel would feel. Satisfied, she closed the bag.

Vreva exhaled sharply through her nose, a breath of a laugh. She put her hands on her hips, weight ahifted to one side. “Enough here for quite a party. Too bad we’re on a mission, yeah?” Her gaze shifted to their leader. “Joke,” she added after a pause. Just in case it wasn’t obvious.

She turned to check on the others just in time to see Foxen storm off. Her brow furrowed. “What’s eating him?” she murmured to herself as her golden gaze shifted to the others in that group. They didn’t seem to have an additional child with them, so it was likely the other wasn’t found yet. Not great.

Sagitta entered the house and promptly exited with a bag. Vreva followed after, squeezing past Dovak. “Hey, what’s the sitch? Found the kid yet?”

Sagitta looked up at Vreva. “No. Not yet. I’m packing some food and water for him. If Tajga was this hungry, I would hate to think how hungry he is.” She threw the bag over her shoulder. “I heard laughter in the warehouse. There’s a really small hole. It sounded like a kid. I tried to call out… and I was recently informed he’s Deaf. I think it’s him. I hope it is.” Then her head looked into the general direction of the warehouse as she nodded at it, “There’s a cliff behind it with a footpath that Stomps can walk on. There… was a loud noise with Aske-” She stopped. She’s not sure if it was Askel.

“With the kid. I’m worried it might be a rancor, so I’m bringing Stomps with the mead.” She looked towards the note. “Maybe we should bring four carcasses too… just to be safe.”

She sighed. She can’t let Foxen’s words eat her up. She had a mission to do and he’s right. Energy or not. “I’ll go convince Stomps to carry more weight. We can throw the carcasses on her back. I hope we have four.”

There were more than enough people shuffling through the house for Kathka to need to join them. She remained near the feeding animals until her ear caught mention of keeping watch. Seeing as no one else was already on it, she called for Goremonger and made her way to the camp’s perimeter while everyone else continued shuffling around.

“I’ll be around,” Kathka called openly as she and the varactyl began patrolling.

“If the mission is a success, let’s share a bottle later.” said Savi in response to Vreva. They would have said more, but the emotions emanating from Sagitta in the Force caught their attention instead.

It didn’t take a genius to put it together that the feelings she was (likely unwittingly) projecting were a result of Foxen’s outburst. Savi shook their head and walked over to the Mirialan, nodded to Tajga as she ate. Then, they gave Sagitta a serious look before speaking.

“You’re allowed to stop and eat,” they said, “So is the kid. And someone would have to watch her while she ate, anyway, so don’t let him get to you. You won’t be any help to us if you’re famished or dehydrated, so make sure you’re good to go and we’ll head off afterward.”

If he wanted to rush ahead without the rest of the group, then he could do so, but there was no point in berating other people who had different plans.

When Kathka signaled that she was going to begin patrolling, Savi nodded. “I’ll catch up.”

Sagitta glanced over at Savi. She gave her a reassuring nod. “I’m fine. Thank you. Can all of you talk about how to get carcasses on Stomps? I’ll go get her ready.”

With a warm smile to Tajga, “I’ll be with Stomps, okay? You take what you need. I already made a bag for your brother so don’t worry about him.” Headed towards Stomps, she was by the warehouse and resting. Such a good girl. Her pink hues glanced over at Foxen and Flyndt as she was quiet.

Suck it up, Sagitta. She placed the bag full of food and bottled water by the mead.

“There was a note inside. About um. A Small one? Needing carcasses so I asked the others to help me load the carcasses onto Stomps’ back.” She patted Stomps leg gently while removing the saddle. Her hand went underside. “There’s also a mention of giving it to the Small one, the carcasses I mean. Back away and give a nod. Archian, I’m assuming, mentioned to make sure to give the Small one a Nod. You can go look for yourselves.” Sagitta wasn’t sure if they would trust her words. After unbuckling Stomps, she left the saddle on the ground.

Stomps chuffed in her face as she smiled gently and gave her chin scratches. Stomps were ready for the carcasses to be on her back. She picked up the rope that rested on her and placed it on the ground. She figured she could use the rope to tie the carcasses down to keep them from sliding off of Stomps.

As the two stepped out - alcohol in hand, he chuffed and gave them a look but withheld from saying more at the moment. He ducked into the house himself, aiming to see if they missed anything.

A few minutes pass, and there is the sound of a cat hissing followed by a clatter of objects and a pained growl from Doon. After a few moments, the front door opened again and Doon hurriedly made his exit, sporting a small scratch on his snout above his nose. He clutched a piece of paper, confirming what Sagitta was just sharing. His other claw was solidly dug into the hide of a frozen Dorcatu, holding it just off the ground. He looked at the loosely gathered team, considering what their next move was while he approached Savran and Vreva.

Savran turned to look at Doon when he returned from searching the house. “Why do you look so spooked?” they asked, and narrowed their eyes before pointing at scratch on his snout. “And what’s that? Did you get into a fight with a screerat while you were in there?”

Sagitta glanced over at the house and saw Doon step out with a carcass.

That’s one.

“Over here, Dovak! Stomps is ready for you to throw it on her back!”

Doon offered nothing but a undertoned growl in response to Savran, ignoring the question as he carried the frozen meat over to Sagitta. With a huff he lifts it and toss it over Stomps’ back. “We need these, i found a note.” He spoke, holding it up to sagitta and looking around. “Should let evveryone know”

Stomps grumbled a bit but she behaved as her face nudged Sagitta’s shoulders. With a soft smile, she thanked Stomps.

Sagitta read the note over again to make sure she understood it right.

“Yes,” she looked at Dovak with a grin, “you tell the others or want me to? We need to find the rest of the carcasses to put on Stomps. If it’s not a problem, I can stay with her! Make sure she doesn’t knock them off or go buckling heh…”

Foxen looked after the Mirialan as she retreated and began ordering the asshole Shistavanen and loading carcasses onto her ronto. And a bag for the Askel.

Intelligence update: critical. Maybe she was third most useful after all.

The Nautolan inclined her a half nod while mental files updated.

Motion. Sound. Water.

Eruption.

Explosion?

Danger.

The eyes see twelve objects approximately 0.5 - 2 m in size sail into the air. Weight approximation: unknown. Likelihood of deadliness from mass at velocity at impact: unkno–

No time for calculations. Cannot shout warnings. The body moves to protect.

Foxen spun on his heel and dropped to his knees, crowding Flyndt against the side of mead/carcass cart and using the body to cover him. The head ducks, both arms braced on either side, making physical barrier and fraking hoping if impact occurs that it doesn’t shove the body down onto Flyndt. The body’s bones snapping is acceptable, but Flyndt–

crunch

NO no not again, deny.

Set status: brace.

Sagitta jumped from the explosion sound. “Kriff!” She shouted as she quickly grabbed Tajga.

Stomps bellowed and started to do a protective buckling and head butting the any threatening borcatu away from the duo.

“Stay with me,” She said as she embraced Tajga, almost sisterly like. “I got you.”

One minute, Savran was asking Doon about the scratch on his snout; the next, there were borcatu raining from the sky. Knowing that raining animals didn’t bode well for the health of themselves or their teammates, Savi’s hand shot outward, fingers curling to summon the Force. They encircled one borcatu in a telekinetic grip and lowered it to safety, then a second. Lowering the Borcatu in their arms, they fetched a dagger from their hip and quickly forced the dagger into the creature’s neck, killing it.

Once that was finished, they tossed its fresh carcass to Doon before wiping off their dagger’s blade.

One second jetting water and dark shapes flung into the air in a spray of mud, and a heartbeat later his back was pressed against a hard surface as a bully form and thick arms started to cradle around him.

crunch

Sunset eyes widened, he swiftly ducked and pivoted out from under the Nautolan, sticking close with his back nearly brushing shoulder. Breath shallow, he shielded his head with an arm and cringed with every solid thud nearby of Borcatu landing on the ground, their rumbles and scrapping of claws as they ran away.

The sudden explosion set Vreva on high alert as she spun to face where the sound had come from. As her gaze followed the spray of water skyward, she spat a curse under her breath. She turned her heel and sprinted as far away from the blast radius as possible without entering the woods. Borcatu fell around her with heavy thuds as she ducked and dodged their falling bodies. “Are we being attacked?!” she shouted over the chaos. She returned to the house and the safety of its roof.

Widened eyes. Terror. Pivot-duck-flee.

The move is. Familiar.

The eyes.

Motion. The falling water, like rain, like breathing. He feels every vibration, senses the bodies falling.

FLYNDT.

The body twists, dodging borcatu, headtails spinning with water. The body wants to move to Flyndt. To resume coverage. The whole self does.

But the eyes see. And the mind knows what just happened.

He’s afraid of you.

That you’ll hurt him.

Again.

The Foxen should never have come here.

The body stills, standing perfectly between several falling beasts, listening to their meaty thumps, scrabbling, water dripping down the face as the eyes stare unblinking at every flinch Flyndt makes. The Foxen did that. Made the flinches happen.

Assess: no more falling projectiles.

Set task: retreat 3 m.

Set task: spontaneously combust so that you are not here being a problem, when there was never any danger, only forgetfulness and promise broken, when you bring with you more fear in form of kidnapped Shani, when you do not help, when told leave be and you do not leave be but cover and cause fear.

…

…

32 second elapse with no immolation.

Damn.

Perhaps getting eaten by a rancor will finally stick and then at least there will be no more trauma-driven panic and uselessness.

Set task: assess.

Assessment: water flooding the area. Animals fleeing. Not attack, object: Vreva, only pressure. Object: Tekuani obtaining fourth carcess, object: Dovak loaded three. Object: ronto intact to perform delivery. Tagja and Flyndt status: safe, thanks to object: Sagitta and no thanks to the self.

Assess.

Water flooding area.

Askel is in hole/cave inside warehouse.

Does the water reach him. Is there danger.

The body moves to take itself away and investigate.

Once the last of the borcatu landed and scurried away, Savran sheathed their dagger and stepped out from off the house’s porch. “Everyone alright?” they asked with a raised voice, scanning those gathered there to assess their condition. Amber eyes fell upon Tajga, who was currently being cradled by Sagitta. Good.

After that, they looked around with the hopes of finding the source of the chaos. The flow of rushing water from the underground pipe seemed like a good enough culprit. That would certainly turn into a problem if left unchecked. “I think that’s our cue to get moving,” Savran noted, grabbing the case of spirits and beginning toward the path leading to their next destination. “If there’s anything else we want to do before departing to find Aksel, we should do it now.”

The Foxen moved into the warehouse and peered down the hole from which faint laughter and foul smelling fetid animal scents issued. He looked back towards the pond. The water didn’t seem to be reaching this far. Good.

Check: clear.

Returning outside as Tekuani rallied, the eyes noted the Shani pulling trunk on wheels which emitted the sound of rattling bottles.

Do they plan to take them.

Through the cliffs and jungle and caves.

Be inefficient and get yourself killed on your own time, bitch, not the rest of us.

The eyes turn to their face, making contact before:

Disgusted noise.

Savran made eye contact with Foxen, narrowing their gaze to match the unamused expression that he wore. Then they looked to the crate, then back to Foxen … then to the crate, then back to Foxen. An audible sigh escaped their lips and they uttered a curse, likely in Shani based on how it sounded, and dropped the case. They knew bringing it wasn’t a good idea but dammit did they want to.

They’d just have to circle back around later to get it.

The Shani scoffed and lifted a hand to flip the Nautolan hybrid off with a tattooed finger–a silent admission of him being correct … this time.

The Foxen raised a middle finger in salute back, but the eyes remained default state instead of judgement. The body proceeded back towards the cart, giving it and Flyndt 3 m distance.

Taking a deep breath, Flyndt lowered his arm and looked up in time to see Foxen walk off. Seconds past until he realized the man had noticed – how could he not? A heavy sigh escaped him despite the small knot in his throat, and he pulled his attention back to Sagitta and Tajga.

“We have four carcasses. Ready to go down?” he asks the Mirialan.

Goremonger leapt through the trees back into the camp. On her back, an arrow was strung at Kathka’s bow, waiting to pull. Her head whipped around just behind her darting eyes and ears.

No enemies, just lots of water out of the blown fountain and borcatu everywhere, largely dead.

“What the hell just happened?” Kathka asked openly.

Sagitta checked and made sure Tajga was okay. “You okay?” She beamed softly, checking over her. Once she was okay, Sagitta gently released her and got the carcasses loaded and ready. She gave Stomps a forehead kiss when Stomps lowered her head. Such a good girl.

Then her eyes glanced over at Foxen and Savi. Wanting to make light of things, she gently covered Tajga’s eyes. “Ah. Sorry. Adults are being vulgar.” Her hands were removed as she smiled at her. “Um. Ready?”

<@571544963607822336>

Once she realized they were not in immediate danger, Vreva returned to the rest. “Let’s grab the kid and be out of this place. Been here too long.” She was obviously on edge, a bite to her words. “Someone might have heard that blast.”

“Pond exploded, Borcatu from den, fall,” Flyndt explained simply to Kathka and gestured for her bow to lower. Why water and mud went flying, he didn’t know.

“We have carcasses to give beast protecting Aksel, have to nod?” Flyndt said the last bit slowly, looking at Sagitta for confirmation, “and wait for nod…back, yes.”

Kathka mouthed a set of swears in confusion at the odd scenario, but shook her head out of it.

“Come on, then, let’s get it done. We can’t stick around here long after a noise like that.” She hoisted a leg over the varactyk’s back and slid to the ground. Her bow was stowed as she approached the fountain. “How about that pipe? Do the animals still have a water source?”

Who cared if they did. The Vreva was right, poachers could be incoming.

Besides. This place was so damp and humid that he had essentially been submerged on land for the last 13 hours 43 minutes of time planetside.

Also.

Snapping fingers, Foxen pointed at the ground, where the water was collecting, several centimeters now even as it spread, small eddies and currents indicating movement, direction. It was going somewhere. And the cages were open, fraking animals everywhere. The damn things would find water or they deserved to die.

Flyndt translates, “She says they will be alright, food and protected. But must feed the ‘small one’ to prevent fight. And get Aksel,” he added.

Sagitta felt sheer panic as she does her best to remain calm. Then she frantically looked around, “FLYNDT!”

Flyndt was right there and translated.

A yelp. Sagitta blinked at Flyndt. Where did he come from.

“Oh. Thank you.” She cleared her throat and gave Tajga a warm smile. “I’m glad. We’ll just have to make sure Arichan comes back and take of them, hmm?”

She gently nudged Stomps. Stomps was more than happy to do some work as she complied the entire pathway to the cave.

Distantly, somewhere below, in some part of the self, there was (assholish) amusement at the Mirialan’s look of panic from a child just talking, and pride-adoration-gratitude at Flyndt expressing their voices for them– for Tajga, the rest of the mind corrects.

But that part is very small and buried and presently unearned, and so the Foxen is blank faced, and sets pace to follow at safe distance.

The sounds of pebbles kicked up and clattering down the edge of a steep slope sounded as creaks and groans of the wagon as the Ronto pulled it confidently and slowly down the footpath. With Stomps unfazed by the carcasses on her back, Sagitta steered her carefully from the wooden seat with Tajga at her side while the others proceeded in formation around them on the narrow path. After a short distance, the trail opened up to a terrace of sorts with several trees and heavy machinery, and another one of those Relkass Sentiant Plants off in a corner.

Yet what certainly caught their eyes was the large cave opening in the rock face. The faintest odor and laughter of a child emitting from it.

Flyndt hopped up on the footboard of the wagon and with a couple steps along its edge, jumped down in front of it before the Ronto had pulled it fully into the clearing. He took a couple steps towards the cave, extending his mind towards the entrance and despite the muddling auras of his approaching team, the smallest assurance of a little light in that darkness ahead was briefly gleamed.

“What now? Can enter unseen to scout? Or go now with carcasses, present and get kid?” the Omwati turned and asked the others.

Not much reason to scout if trying to present to it, Foxen posited from far back – though still in order between Tekuani and Flyndt – only rounding towards the front now as more space opened up to them. You, Tagja, or I best to go in if pacified beast. Can talk to Aksel.

“I mean… If you want to scout, be my guest, but I ain’t afraid of just goin’ through there,” Kathka offered, crouching next fo Flyndt to peer in. She turned back to Tajga. “Unless the kid knows better. It’s her family and all.”

Flyndt nodded to both Kathka and Foxen, turning his attention to the young Shistavanen too. “What say you, Tajga?”

Flyndt’s brow furrowed with concerned, picking up on her urgency. “We need to put carcasses in…” He followed her gestured, unfamiliar with the sign, “The machinery, quickly. Something about the tree concerns her.”

Great. First animals, now the trees.

Just throw the whole moon out. Set it all on fire. Honestly.

Keeping such thoughts to itself, the Foxen followed directions and hoisted one carcass under each arm, uncaring of blood fresh or frozen, striding swiftly but vigilantly over to the ‘bulldoze’ and tossing them in. Once give, he paused, then nodded at the cave per instruction. Sanguine eyes clocked around their surroundings all the while, and the body did not turn the back to the cave or tree as it retreated back to the group and stationed the self 1.5 m from Flyndt/Tajga.

And Savran followed suit, digging their tapered nails into the bloodied fur of the two remaining borcatu carcasses and mimicking what Foxen had done.

A giant hairy man-creature…

Flyndt stared for a second, nearly taking a step back when the beast approached. Seeing it nod towards them, he glanced to the others.

“This is where we nod, yes?”

Not wanting to delay, the Omwati dipped his head with a light flare of red feathers, sunset gaze balancing up in wait.

The creature seemed to look directly at him, his crest freezing as a shiver ran down his spine. It was almost a hungry look, a hungry dirty look like it wanted to devour him.

For a moment, he felt like he was in Foxen’s shoes.

Not daring moving his head, he resisted the attempt to raise his spear defensively, forcing himself to watch the movements for now. The man-beast moved to the carcasses and started to sit down in front of them.

The Neti scanned the surrounding area as he left the decisions to his teammates. ‘mhhrrm, interesting.’ What would be next? The area was seemingly secure, yet…

Focusing his mind, Ood prepared to begin querying the Force about his surroundings.

Sagitta stayed with Stomps while they unload the carcasses. She then removed the blanket, knowing that Stomps would want nothing to do with it now that it had the dead body smell and some blood from the fresh carcass.

Then the rumbles. Sagitta froze as she watched over at the cave.

‘This is where we nod, yes?’

Without missing a beat, she gently lowered her head and tapped Stomps on the legs who stared at the creature it feared. Then it stared at her. Stomps, bless, behaed as she lowered her head to do a simple nod.

Sagitta suddenly had the itch to go meet and pet them.

*‘No. Stay.’ *

The creature appeared from the cave and Flyndt mentioned something about nodding. So, that was how they needed to appease the beast? Easy enough. Savran dipped their head and held it there for a moment or two before returning it to its original position, maintaining eye contact with it.

Savran felt an unspoken resonance between themselves and the creature–similar to what they’d felt when meeting Foxen for the first time. It was the mutual understanding that they were both predators … killers. And the hulking animal with bleach white fur acknowledged this subtle feeling by tossing the Shani a piece of the borcatu carcass. It wanted them to eat, as well. Respect.

Savi kneeled down to swipe the meat off the ground, never breaking eye contact while they opened their mouth to reveal a set of teeth that were a mix of regular straight ones and those resembling small hooks more commonly found in snakes. The sharpened teeth made quick work of shredding any remaining meat from the piece of bone, which Savran tossed aside while swallowing their impromptu meal.

“Mhhrhm” the ancient Jedi mumbled as the Force crystalized around him. The water’s edge seemed to be trouble, stabs of danger seemed to emanate from that direction, mixed in with something else…. aggression? Not just a dangerous animal feeding then, something that wanted to attack and was lying in wait.

The branches from that Relkass Sentinel Tree were bouncing a bit too much in the wind, as if they’d lost quite a bit of weight very recently. Something had removed some fruits from that branch… Maybe a prey creature was gathering food and the aggressive creature had been hunting it. Their arrival may have startled the prey and now the predator was maybe upset enough to attack?

Lotaz Fist seemed to be very happy about the current circumstances. Why though?

‘Hmm, to communicate this and potentially give up any advantage or let the trap be sprung and ameliorate the damage…’ As the Neti made up his mind, the Force kept giving impressions of his surroundings.

The Mirialan’s brows furrowed. “Where was the laughter coming from…” She muttered to herself that only Stomps can hear.

She looked up at the Jotaz and it seemed to laugh at her again, her legs felt wobbly and weak. She had to lean against Stomp’s leg to keep it from giving out.

There’s laughter. Why was no one talking about this? Her legs were okay as she started to sway left and right. She wanted to go meet the creature!

Why does she have to stay behind!?

MAYBE THE CREATURE NEEDED A HUG.

If not friend, why friend shaped?

The not sharpest tool in the shed Mirialan had quietly approached the Jotaz and offered a hug. Maybe if it accepts it might release whatever it’s in the fist? Aksel?

Sagitta managed to touch it with a palm of her hand as she gave a warm firendly smile but shook her off so she behaved and stood next to it.

Boundaries, Sagitta. Boundaries.

Realizing they were dealing with a jotaz, Kathka nodded her head in turn toward it, slowly. It was good to see it acknowledged one of their group with respect - that would help their chances of keeping it content. But then Sagitta started stepping forward. Kathka tensed slightly. Blast it.

Approaching a jotaz wasn’t exactly safe, if one made the wrong moves. Unless Kathka was wrong though, keeping her head below its own was key. Her feet inched forward behind Sagitta, and she briefly halted when the two interacted. Kathka exhaled some relief that nothing terribly interesting happened. When she finally got near Sagitta, she lowered herself and tugged on the other woman’s clothing.

“Sit,” she quietly told her. Kathka nestled onto the ground and crossed her legs before the creature, breathing deep. “Don’t touch. We don’t want to disrespect this one.”

Was the Mirialan. Trying.

To hug.

Lady things like that will rip off your arms and beat you to death with them, he thought, remembering exactly that of other gladiators in the pit when they’d fought a smaller, much more starved jotaz. It had broken both his legs in five places before he ripped open an artery in its leg with his teeth, a spurting bleed that damn seemed slow when such a big creature took so long to fall and crush some other fraker.

The week that followed was the longest he’d ever gotten between fights.

Glare intensified, meeting the thing’s eyes dead on and sweating profusely: 300%

He didn’t nod a second time. He lifted his chin and took another step forward in front of Flyndt/Tajga range.

The thing seemed to smirk and threw something at him.

The body braced, expecting boulder. All that landed wetly at his feet was a borcatu head.

Was that supposed to mean something.

Was he having a contest with this thing.

He wanted to shoot it as much as he wanted to run and never come back.

Horrible.

But the Kathka spoke of ‘respect’ nonsense, so he at least nodded back for the head and then the eyes flicked to the giggling closed fist.

Aksel in there, he said to Flyndt. It’s carrying him. Think there’s something else here though. Danger. Unknown threat.

Maybe the fraking thing would like charades. He and Flyndt had played enough. Sign was close if you asked some people.

Lifting both arms, Foxen waited for the jotaz’s attention before he showed closed fists, and then opened them, making setting down gestures.

Vreva gave a nod as directed to this Small One. It seemed pretty gentle, considering there was still laughter in his closed fist. How to get the kid out was a question. She guessed the critter people would have better luck with that. She wasn’t looking to get into a wrestling match with a kid involved.

Instead she hung back by the mouth of the cave and surveiled their exit. She reckoned this would be a good spot for an ambush, were one to happen.

Sure enough, she saw movement. Multiple by the look of it. They didn’t seem to be covering themselves well as they moved around the tree. Could be critters. Could be poachers. Hard to tell.

“Guys, we have multiple targets moving around those Relkass trees. Even if it’s just creatures, could be trouble.”

Doon’s lip twitched, witholding from a snarl as both Sagitta and Kathka approach the creature. His own head remained dipped in a nod, but his eye was quickly drawn to Vreva’s efforts to alert them about the potential threats. He spoke softly, almost all growl from his voice gone, leaving him with barely a whispering voice. “Prepare for it. Do not move suddenly. Do not draw weapons until we know what it is.”

He shifted his weight, noting the attention of the creature before them seemed heightened alertness.

Kathka’s ear twitched at the warnings. She carefully turned her head partway back, just enough to keep the jotaz in her peripheral vision. “Figure it out quick. He’s tense.”

Foxen stiffened further as the Vreva (fourth most useful, confirm) gave visual confirmation and direction of threat he’d felt.

Do not draw weapons.

As if, asshole.

However: if it is poachers, they will likely want the jotaz most. The jotaz has Aksel.

Mission: obtain and protect Aksel. Objective: separate them.

This thing had hands and was trained to nod call/response. Bond with Aksel, deaf, also speaker of sign. Supposition: Could it understand signed call/responses or commands?

Inventory of anecdotal evidence: * Flyndt has special bond with Drakor * Objects: people eg Sagitta/Kathka/other liked to say objects: animals were intelligent/understood them/had bond * Drakor useful, responsive to Flyndt * Karran animals allegedly not bad, listen * Minnie has a tooka now and it’s awful * Witness of understanding of verbal/physical cues when animals commanded by masters. Difference between this and rabid animals in the pit

Conclusion: frak it. If nothing else, just kill it to grab the kid.

After killing whatever is on approach.

The Nautolan signed largely, if slowly, to the jotaz.

GIVE.

TO

ME.

PROTECT.

Things appeared to be going well with the jotaz thanks in large part to the efforts of both Sagitta and Kathka. The two women and their ability to work with creatures of all sizes and temperaments had proven invaluable for this mission. Savran felt the unmistakable pang of unease strike deep in their belly when Sagitta began getting a little too close to the white-furred beast. No frakking way was she going to try to hug that thing. Talk about taking an inch and running a mile. Luckily, Kathka had enough sense to stop the naive woman in her tracks.

One by one, their team members took turns deferring to jotaz, and the creature approved. But then, its posture changed, going from something resembling curiosity to an unmistakably alert posture. It sensed something, and it didn’t take Savi to feel the same.

Rustling in the nearby treeline caught their eye, and they attuned their senses to that location. The creatures burned hot in the Force with anger and aggression, and reeked with the smell of bitter herbs and iron flakes. And there was a depth to those emotions that most animals lacked, a sure enough sign that the creatures that zipped from tree-to-tree and the bushes below them possessed some degree of sapience. How much and what these creatures were exactly was lost on the Shani.

Never taking their eyes off the botaz and always prepared to spring into action should the beast become aggressive, Savran slowly lifted a hand to gesture toward where they’d sensed the hidden animals that were putting the botaz on edge.

“Sapient creatures. They smell angry and aggressive. Fast moving. One in the trees and two in the bushes below.” Savi said, keeping their words short to better maintain their focus on sensing them through the Force.

Vreva had her rifle out before Dovak’s order registered. Oops. She kept it lowered as she watched the movement in the trees. If it was poachers, they were taking a while to surround them. Maybe they were watching just as they were being watched.

At Savi’s word, Vreva grip tightened on her rifle. Her yellow eyes scanned the bushes, seeking out what the Shani had sensed.

“Any luck with the big guy back there?” she called over with a glance over her shoulder. She did not want to scare the creature with her fire. An angry jotaz at her back would be just as lethal as the creatures approaching their front. Rock and a hard place. Kark.

Rocks were pelting the ground around them as these furry, long eared humanoid creatures emerged covered in fruit. Flyndt barely noted what the Shistavanen girl was saying before he took her hand and ran for the thick tree a few short meters behind them. An electric jolt up his spine had him reeling to the right, pivoting and spinning with Tajga as a hydrospanner sized rock thudded where they had once stood. A few more steps, the Omwati tucked the girl behind the tree and leaned against it himself.

“I am sorry, for the yank,” he apologized with a wince of a smile before turning his attention back onto the others. Flyndt called around the tree trunk, a couple throwing knives in hand and ready. “Eyes up! Small One will throw rocks too, at them. Mind it!”

Sagitta nodded as she sat down as Kathaka told her to. “But it’s so cute.” She sighed softly, wanting to hug it. Restraining herself, she was startled at the sudden aggression of Foxen as he signed to the Jotaz.

What surprised her was that it seemed to comply and slowly start to open its fist. Anticipation had her leaning forward.

Sadly that was short-lived as they were suddenly under attack. “Kriff!” Sagitta yelped as she squatted up, her hand went to free the bow that was across her chest and resting on her back. Drew an arrow, she peeked out of the corner of the bulldoze.

She aimed at the middle one and fracking missed. ‘Frack. I got this. Muscle memory.’

Tired again, at the left this time, it was much better but it dodged. Well. Kriff.

Threat engaged.

Flyndt reacted first, with preternatural instinct, ghosting away and disappearing with Tajga in tow. Monkeys screamed and growled, and projectiles, object: rocks, fell.

The body twisted and pivoted, rainwater whipping off the headtails as impacts fell. Arrows flew and missed. Rocks came from the cave, where target: Aksel and jotaz disappeared.

The Foxen’s pistol was in his palm.

Set task: cover.

The body moves, retreating at speed to tree Flyndt called instruction from. Knives in his hands, beautiful. Mission: Tajga, status: safe.

Rocks fell, and the body crowds behind the tree on other side, establishing barrier of flesh to Tajga on either side with Flyndt. Sanguine eyes briefly meet sunset before the hand cocks the hammer.

The body swings back out. Lifts the gun. The feet plant. The stance is wide. The lungs expire.

Set task: select target.

Aim.

Fire.

The floppy-eared skull of furthermost target explodes from high caliber projectile, killing instantly. Corpse crumples. The arm aims for next target, but rocks being thrown forces the body to duck back behind the tree.

At the breakout of action, Kathka scrambled off the ground toward the nearest bulldozer for cover. She wasn’t fast enough - she let out a shout as a thrown boulder slammer her leg, tripping her as she fell behind the machine.

Not broken. Just bruised. Badly, but still functional. Kathka seethed a pained snarl, but redirected her attention quickly.

In her native tongue, she shouted to her surrounding animals, “Glad, get behind them! Mong, run!” She threw her hand out at the varactyl, who quickly turned tail and bolted the other way.

The anooba followed her command and darted at the enemies. In a moment, he passed them and began harassing their flank. Though they were agile enough to avoid any bites, the draagax were cut off.

Kathka bit her tongue with another growl as she made to stand. The bow was a heavier draw than the Nightsister weapon she’d grown accustomed to shooting. Between that and the pain in her leg, she only managed a glancing shot when she leaned around her cover to fire.

Vreva watched from near the tree as the creatures approached. The pelting of stones did little to interrupt her aim as she stepped aside. She raised her rifle and looked down the sight. Her first intended target fell from a stone thrown back with Savi’s telekinetic ability. As she switched targets, she thought that the battle would be concluded before she got a shot in.

Dovak’s blade carved into the creature’s shoulder. Not a killing blow. As it rounded on the Shista for a bite, Vreva squeezed the trigger. The sound of the cycler rifle thundered in the clearing. The slug whistled past Dovak to its mark between the Draagax’s eyes. Down.

The corner of Vreva’s mouth turned up in a smile when she saw all the creatures were down. Clean work. Her gaze scanned the area for any other threats.

Foxen pivoted out from cover once more, pistol raised. Sanguine eyes searched all around, sights aiming, ears open for any sound, but found he found nothing. Not even his extra senses detected anything but their quantities and the jotaz.

He stepped forward out of cover, twisting, searching.

Check: clear.

Check: clear.

Check: clear.

Lowering gun, the Nautolan signed above his head for Flyndt: clear. Then he advanced for the jotaz, gun still low in the offhand.

It had started to present the Aksel before. He was getting the kid so they could get out of here.

Striding past the Kathka and the Sagitta, he shot the Mirialan a glare, pointing as if to say, stay the frak put, you idiot. Stopping 4 m away and setting the static, simmering panic to status: ignore, Foxen stood in front of the jotaz, nodded, and repeated his earlier signs.

GIVE.

TO

ME.

PROTECT.

Sagitta grimaced when she heard a certain pained snarl. She whipped her head towards Kathka. Made sure it wasn’t that bad, she looked over again and all three of them are dead.

At least that was fast. Quickly, rushed to Kathka’s side and placed her bow down. “Are you okay? Here, let me.” She waited for approval before placing her hand on the bruised leg.

It was all going great.

Till her nose tickled.

Her head violently turned away from Kathka as she sneezed off to the size. She noticed that Foxen walked by and it got her attention. She noticed the massive ‘STAY HERE’ vibes from Foxen as her brows furrowed. WHAT DID SHE DO!?

At least for Kathka, the pain is gone.

“Ah.. sorry…” She chuckled while brushing the fur away to check her skin. “There’s still bruising, so I’ll need to focus a bit longer. How is it?” She asked as she focused again, her hands glowing.

Foxen stared back at the small Aksel, unblinking as ever. When Tajga approached and got a nod of affirmation of okay, their staring match continued.

Slowly, the Nautolan hybrid knelt down, only holstering his gun then due to nearness of multiple children. It made the skin wish to detach and flee, due to the nearness of the jotaz (objective distance: 6 m and closing on approach to the Sagitta and the Kathka. Subjective distance: get away get away get away.)

But the fear was not the priority. And Flyndt would have his back. Even if he never should have come here and only made things worse for the Omwati on multiple counts, that was fact. He could trust in Flyndt’s protection from the beast.

So he stared at Aksel, and then lifted his empty hands.

Hey, he began, and nodded. You’re Aksel, right? I’m F-O-X-E-N. Foxen. I’m like your sister. Can’t talk. But can hear. I can understand you. So can my friend, F-L-Y-N-D-T, Flyndt, but you have to go slower for him.

Good job hiding. And with a big stinky! He pinched at his nostrils and screwed up his face, miming gagging, hoping to get a laugh out of the kid that couldn’t be too old for a mammal. Hard to find you. Bet you win games a lot.

He made a smile, a half shrug adding the huh?. Then a gesture back at the collective of useful assets and idiots.

They’re looking for the bad people that came to your home. Going to make them go away. We’re going to find your Archian and get you safe. O.K? That O.K. with you?

Kathka was on the verge of saying, It’s kriffing tender as hell, but by the time Sagitta asked, the pain was already dissipating. “It’s, uh… it’ll be good. Thanks.” She leaned down and pressed a finger gainst the bruise to assess the damage. “That Force magic you guys have is really something.”

The sound of a kid’s laughter drew her attention aside. That little furball dropped off by the jotaz must have been Aksel, then - another disabled child attached to Archian and his animals. At least he seemed happy. A light smile worked its way onto her face without trying.

The expression dropped, though, when Kathka realized the jotaz was approaching her and Sagitta. Her ears raised, alert, and she nudged Sagitta to direct her attention. Staring up at the behemoth, Kathka took a deep breath, and in her native shistavanen tongue, simply said, “Hi.”

Flyndt followed after Tajga, standing at her side and watching the exchange. He offered Aksel a small wave and smile when introduced by the Nautolan.

“Four arms…that was in note about Aksel, yes? What is Four arms?” Flyndt asked Tajga. He signed what he could for Aksel as well, albeit slower.

“Hrmm,” Flyndt rumbled to himself a bit deeper than his own voice. He considered the intel for a moment. This Four Arms sounds like a sentient alien, though hard to say in this camp. His eyes shifted to the jotaz that has been entrusted with Aksel’s care. That latter thought cemented a little farther when the list was brought up, still he blinked a bit in surprise.

“Hoo, I think Kathka might have?” he replied.

Sagitta smiled with a soft nod at Kathka. ‘Force Magic.’ Her hues glanced at her hands for a moment. “Yea. It is.” She murmured softly.

They both got distracted by the kid’s laughter as she looked over and her shoulders slightly dropped. The Mirialan was relieved and there was something about a kid’s laugh that just makes everything seem alright again. He was okay. Tajga and Aksel was safe. “Hmm?” She was nudged by Kathka, “Oh no! I am so sorry, did I forge-” But she was looking at something behind her. “Eh?”

Turning around, she quickly remembered to nod. Nod! So she did. Then she noticed the wounds. “Aw! Oh no! Okay, I’ll heal you!” She carefully approached, “Aw. I got you, fella! Don’t you worry!” She soothed, her voice gentle and friendly. She went over and started to heal the Jotaz. “Oh, Kathka, if you don’t mind, there’s a bag with Stomps, it has food, waters, and juices. I packed few things for Aksel, poor kid may be hungry.” She smiled at Kathka with a nod and went back to focusing on healing Jotaz. “You are so goooooooood! Yes you arrreeee! You did so good protecting Aksel didn’t you?”

“Yeah, easy enough,” Kathka muttered, backing up from the jotaz. Sagitta seemed to have the creature under control.

When Kathka approached the ronto, she gave her a gentle pat and rubbed her hide. “Hey big girl,” she said quietly. “Just need you to stand still for a sec…” Sure enough, she had plenty of food packed. Kathka removed the whole bag and gave Stomps another pat, then approached the two interacting kids.

She waved to get their attention, hoping Aksel could read lips. “Who’s hungry?”

Doon took a few steps back from the group, watching them regather and speak with the children. Once satisfied that they were safe, he sighed and looked down at his armor. It was splattered in.. mess.

He stepped away from the others, kneeling at the edge of the water. He started doing what he could to wash his armor and fur. He cleaned the Beskad as best as he could as well.

Are you hungry? She has food, Flyndt translated to Aksel for the Shistavanen woman.

With his hand finally freed – task had been set to allow the contact – as Aksel began eating voraciously, Foxen looked to Tajga, then Flyndt. The shoulders hitched down 2 mm at the Omwati’s nearness, a reminder of back being had. He angled it away from the group, and towards Flyndt.

Supposition, he began to Flyndt, not much caring if either child listened, or if it was translated, that this fraking Four Arms is also an animal. Or if we’re lucky a Wookiee. Wouldn’t put it past this Archian fraker to call an animal a copilot, Minnie is doing it with that damn cat, and he’s using j-o-t-a-z as babysitter. Because that’s fraking parenting, the wretch. Frak us all. The motions were tight and frustrated, betraying the shaking of the hands from proximity to jotaz/animals/this entire day. I want home.

Foxen paused. Made a disgusted noise at the self. Shook his head.

Didn’t mean to say that. Disregard. Mission priority. Not sure if I trust the village with the kids, but not keen on bringing them to the cave either. Thoughts?

“He gives his gratitude…oh, Kathka, Tajga asked about Poacher list?” Flyndt informed the woman before movement caught his eye. He turned and noted those sanguine eyes vying for his attention, hands slowly gesturing. “And Foxen thinks ‘Four Arms’ is creature too. Maybe why list requested–”

–‘I want home.’

Flyndt cut off translating for Kathka, a flash of surprise before brows softened in sympathy and apology, feathers lowering. The Omwati started to raise his gift to his chest, ‘Disregard’, and let it fall back to his side. O.K. The urge to do anything but was heavy but he shoved it away forcibly and listened.

“No. No cave, agreed. I…I would take to village, could stay with? Protect?” Flyndt suggested to the Nautolan. He added for the others of their team, swallowing a little bit in anticipation of Tajga possibly protesting. “Talking about where safe to take Tajga and Aksel.”

On request, Kathka withdrew the list from her bag, though the thought of what to do with the kids stalled her briefly. “Right, where to take them… Village might be your best bet.” After a pause, “You know, for what it’s worth, I wasn’t much older than her when I left home. Not that I’d encourage it - just puttin’ it out there for whatever you’re thinking. We’re a tough lot.”

“Not sure I like the idea of bringing kids into a definite firefight, tough or not.” Vreva shouldered her rifle and leaned against a nearby tree. “We’re down numbers whether they’re bringing the kids back or babysitting them. I can hang back with my rifle but if my cover is out I’m not-” She glanced to Tagja and crossed her arms over her chest. A brief pause showed some hesitation. “I’m not liking those chances. But splitting up hasn’t been an option, so…”

She gave a loud exhale of frustration. “I dunno. Turning back would be the better option. Cut our losses.” Vreva glanced over to Dovak as he washed off his armor. She shrugged. “Just my opinion, though. I’ll do whatever the group decides. Poachers are an issue regardless so I’m down to wipe them out.”

Promised Tajga to obtain Aksel and father/guardian, Foxen contributed, with a nod to the girl. Willing to take either of you if that is your choice. But danger. Want you safe. If go back to village with Flyndt, have friend, protector. He protects me. He will protect you. He even has friend keeradeek. You could make friends with.

The idea horrified him, but given Aksel’s apparent connection to the jotaz, perhaps it would persuade the froglet.

Cave of Fangs where Archian disappeared. Description of Arqets: extremely lethal. Supposition: we return children to the village if they agree, and wait for poachers and Arqets to weaken or kill each other. Go to cave after, pick off the remainder, locate Archian and obtain status.

Who’s the old lady? The Nautolan demanded, hands briefly on his hips as he narrowed eyes at both of them. Is it a trustworthy **humanoid ** adult in the village?

Asshole spoke to her about a message. We heard it. Told us of not using electronics, Foxen related back, grunting at this. He watched briefly as the Mirialan hugged the jotaz, and decided then and there her usefulness was officially out the window burning in a trash can. The eyes went back to Tajga and Aksel, then to Flyndt, meeting sunset.

Let’s take them to the village. Whether or not one of us stays with them, safety priority. Then we can go get Archian. Move through the night. Yes? No? O.K?

Thank the suns that the boy was fine with the village. He would have carried him there kicking and screaming if he had to. The alternative…it gave a bad echo of a time long ago and Flyndt rather that did not repeat itself. Not for Aksel, not for Tajga…The Omwati chewed his inner lip, still uncertain of being the girl but Kathka had a point and he would have wanted her age too.

Puhta.

“O.K. Yes. We must go through village to get to cave path, drop Aksel to Clar and go help Archian. Agreed?” Flyndt replied after translating Foxen for everyone.

Crouching beside Aksel he rummage out some jerky and fruits, silently offering them to the kid in hopes he ate something more substantial than chocolate. While waiting to see if he would, the Omwati glanced to the others, especially those not huddled next to each other, Sagitta, Dovak and the treeman. He repeated himself simply after grabbing those three attentions.

“Good plan, yes?”

Sagitta smiled while scratching at its side. “Awah! You are so sweet and good! Yes you are!” She was barely breathing through her nose cause man, that smell. The arm moved slowly so she felt there was no ill intention as she hugged the Jotaz.

If it wasn’t for that strong stench, he would’ve been the perfect teddy bear.

Sagitta heard Flyndt shout as she glanced over at them and frowned for a moment. She gently patted Jotaz on the arm while gently and carefully pulling away.

‘Okay, head check.’ With that, she made sure everyone was with them. Stomps. Doon at the water. Aksel, Tajga, Foxen, Flyndt, Vreva, and Kathka. … Her eyes squinted. Where was Savi and Ood?

As Sagitta began making the rounds to ensure everyone was present, Savran stepped forward, revealing that she had been lingering in the background while the others spoke. She lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave.

Vreva quirked a brow and took out the map. She squinted at it and turned it to the side. “Huh, guess the village is on the way. Well that makes things easier.” She stowed the parchment in her pack once more. This is why you don’t have the brawn in charge of the map. “Well let’s move out then!”

Why was there head rubbing.

None of the new intel was negative. Sub-mission success. Dead poachers. One less nannering monk around.

Neat.

After letting down his the Aksel passenger and seeing him go, he turned to Tajga, looking between her and Flyndt.

Two questions, he said. Are you staying or coming to the cave? You’re falling asleep. Been long day. If you can’t stay awake, possible liability. Suggest stay with brother and rest. But up to you.

Second, what is the ‘ghost?’“

This was asked with a look towards Flyndt, the echo of their messages earlier about haunted Ol'Val bars in… the day before yesterday, actually. Morning two days ago. Back when it had been a good day.

Collapsed cave…Archian’s bow…Ghosts heard.

Crimson feathers twitched as Flyndt glanced up to catch the conversation. An exhale. He touched a finger to his temple, then his chest with a nod to the Nautolan. A silent attempt at communicating he will try sensing any signs beyond the rocks. He frowned and stepped before Foxen, just enough to turn his shoulder to Mymir and Tajga, hands tucked out of their sight – intent not to give any hope to dash.

Ghosts. Voices, I think. A-R-C-H-, trapped? Or not him, dead or injured, unconscious off path, Flyndt paused, brow furrowing as feathers ruffled. “Hrmm.”

Do not think she should come.

Noting body adjustment for secrecy/discretion, Foxen mirrored Flyndt, keeping his own hands from the other’s sightlines in the shield of Flyndt’s body, gestures small and compact. His own hrm was questioning.

O.K. Why not?

The Omwati paused and looked over his shoulder at her, his gut churning, something old eating itself at the back of his mind. He was unaware of the quiet clacking chitter of his beak behind pursed inked lips, or the twitch of his fingers that had lowered near his waist. Pivoting to face the Shistavanens, he fixed Tajga in a hard gaze, serious.

“Listen,” he exhaled and gestured a hand to the mandalorian dwarfing him before continuing. “I was ‘tired’ once. Ran back to help in danger. Ended with nín Atta dead, protecting. Stay here, defend brother, most important.”

Sagitta was concerned at first. Immediately, she slid down from Stomps’ back but it wasn’t long before she was reassured that it was poachers. Her shoulder dropped as she sighed with relief. She smiled towards Mymir, “Thank you.” She bowed her head at him before leading Stomps’ away. She removed the ones they have and the blanket on Stomps’ back and her reins. “Okay.” She patted her leg gently. “Rest up girl. It’s been a long two days… Two and half?” She muttered her body leaning forward as her head rest gently against Stomps’ belly.

‘Right. Got a mission to do.’ Stood up straight, she glanced at the others and more specifically the kids to make sure they were okay. The others were with them. Then she heard a soft snoring sound. Her eyes glanced over at Stomps whose head was lowered and fast asleep.

Chittering beak, fidgeting, hard urgent vocal tenor fighting for understanding/listening, all indicative of distress. The recollection and warning, assuming blame, grief.

The scene in his mind is weeks/months prior: the shoreline, come down from the green-range of the mountainside of the compound; asking for assistance, will you…with me?; the water, which is too much, and the hand on the shoulder, which narrows the too muchness; driftwood fire, bluish smoke, mourning stories.

It makes him want to reach out. But the instructions were still: leave be. So he doesn’t. Instead he is silent and still, planning support in other avenues. There were blasters left behind among the equipment here that can be set to stun, and much rope, though a simple lack of oxygen circulation to the brain for 6.8 seconds will suffice with clamping of jugular artery. If Tajga persists in wanting to come and tries to follow, she can be detained as necessary with minimally invasive/painful methods.

The situation is: * Respect autonomy of Tajga’s decision to go * Appease Flyndt not wanting her there

Sorry, kid, them’s the breaks.

Flyndt stared long after her reply, replaying the words in his mind. ‘Will go’, not ‘want to.’ Save from forcibly locking the girl here, there would not be anything stopping her from coming.

Your not asking her to stay for her, but for you–shut up.

Plumage flicked up a bit with a curt shake of his head, shedding the thought with it, true as it was with his body vibrating with wrongness in her decision…but the ask to pay respect. Flyndt forced himself to lower his shoulders, sighing heavily.

“O.K.” his hand signed with the spoken letter, rough gesturing. “Accepted. I still will aid, in this.”

That said, he stepped back, needing space to check himself farther, half listening to Mymir share about some other animal of Archian’s taken by poachers, the Four Arms or Jori it seemed.

O.K. Flyndt said to Tajga.

O.K.

Okay then.

Good. Pretty sure the things would get annoying if he choked out the kid in front of everyone. Exacerbated reactions were typical when involving preadolescents of various species. Tended to arrest action, cause discomfort, create mission difficulty.

That was why he did some jobs.

The eyes tracked Flyndt’s retreat, following him like a lodestone. The ears received input of the conversation, gaze clocking back periodically for Tajga’s speaking. To not be looked at was strangling, for them. He would not do that to her, even if he wished to only stare at Flyndt until the heat death of the universe or until the body next shut down, whichever came first.

And of fraking course he was fraking right that the fraking idiot Archian was using a fraking animal as a fraking copilot. While using fraking animals as fraking babysitters. Teaching the fraking kids sleep deprivation and whatever else ‘hard training’ entailed.

Usually, he has no emotions towards his targets at all. But this one has achieved anger.

He hopes the arqets trampled him and then he suffocated in piles of their feces.

Seeing nothing to contribute to the bullshit at hand here, Foxen turned away from the ‘team’ and Shistavanens and looked to Flyndt. He circled around, maintaining 1 m distance, and stopped again once in the Omwati’s peripheral sightlines but still – relatively – with the body between Flyndt and Tekuani.

Might as well ask.

Query: maintain status leave be, or is it O.K. to ask if you’re O.K?

Flyndt blinked, dropping his hand from the pouch of throwing knives his thumb had been running over the hilts of, idly counting. ‘Status: leave be’? He paused, reflecting back to several odd moments of retreat from the Nautolan through the last couple days and suddenly recalling when those words left his own mouth.

Is that why stand far? ‘Leave be?’ leather gave a muddied slap sound when gesturing met palms, the Omwati unfurling from his mind as annoyance and bewilderment reared. Said for talk about S-H-A-N-I, not everything.

A sigh, his gaze flits away, down. When sunset meets sanguine again, he is raising his fist to his chest. I am sorry, for snapping then…No O.K. but fine. Can finish mission, another sigh, the briefest solemn smile, then…tell you about it?

Vreva bristled as Flyndt translated Tagja’s words. ‘Guardian gave me hard training.’ To think those kids were tormented for the sake of Archian’s pet project made her furious. This was not Dathomir. Hearing the child defend her guardian and wish to go at the risk of her own life just to see a body…

“We’re not seriously taking her with us, are we?!” She looked to Flyndt with burning anger, then to Tagja with a softer yet still frantic expression. “Kiddo, we can bring Archian back one way or the other. But I don’t want you getting yourself hurt for him.”

Sagitta smiled at the sleeping Stomps before heading over to the group. She didn’t get everything but she got enough. She frowned softly, looking over at Tajga. She was getting frustrated at all the adults. Sagitta knew all that feeling too well. And the hopeless feeling she had when she was pre-teen and attacked. She and her sister knew nothing. Sadly, it wasn’t until the attack that Buir finally agreed to train her and her sisters.

Sagitta was quiet.

And then-

“What if I take her?”

She spoke up as she smiled at them, “I’m bigger than her. I know we have others-” She gestured to Foxen and Doon and Vreva and Ood. All the tall people. “But I think we all agree that you guys are better out in the front line vs having to worry about her. She can sit and stay-” Her voice was stern to Tajga, “On Stomps with me. Worse comes to worse, Stomps may be slow but she has a tough hide and her size will help protect us as well. Stomps protected her back at Archian’s home-” She reminded the others, “I believe Stomps will do what I cannot if that happens as well. But I will do everything to protect her.”

Brows furrow at the agitation – signals suggest leaving be still the correct action, as interaction only continues to cause irritation/fright/strain. But the words say otherwise, and he can only trust what it told.

At fist raising to chest, it feels like his stomach drops out of his body and drags all his organs with it. He nearly misses everything else said, he’s so busy reeling. Thankfully the eyes catalogue while he’s busy choking on shame and failure and frustration and hurt in the wake of that strained smile, so he at least knows what he needs to respond to after an entire 162 seconds needed just to breathe properly.

The hands still tremble slightly when he replies, Please. I would like that, if you want to tell me. Pause. I’m sorry. Order: ‘leave be’ of critical importance. Refused consent. You said no. Was trying to respect it. Didn’t mean to make it worse. Didn’t mean to make all of this worse–

The Vreva snapping in Flyndt’s direction interrupts his sentence with the drawing of a knife. He does not lift it, but it sits in his palm as he clocks his head to the right and the hips and shoulder rotates 22° in that direction for appropriate throwing angle. He stares at the base of her skull which she turns to expose while speaking to Tajga, and deigns to sign one-handed.

Raise your voice at him again for HER CHOICES and I will hurt you, he states with an incredible depth of patience.

Vreva looked to Sagitta as she spoke up. Though frustrated still that the child was holding her ground, the option seemed… pretty reasonable. Sagitta had to leave behind a lot of her gear. Putting her up front would not be the best.

“Hmm… I’d be okay with that, I guess.” She crossed her arms and thought about it. “Have you used a slugthrower before?”

Savi was growing incredibly bored with all this talking. They had tuned out most of it seeing as they hadn’t felt the need to add anything to the conversation, and when they started paying attention again, they were relieved to see that a resolution seemingly had been reached.

“So, are we leaving, then?” they said, more a suggestion than a genuine question.

Sagitta grimaced at Vreva, “I’m… more of a blaster girl. Slugthrowers are awesome though!” Mymir stepped in and managed to convince Tajga to not go. Sagitta gave Tajga a warm and sad smile. She tried.

She sighed. “I’ll get Stomps ready.” She made her way over to hook Stomps again and was very much prepared to handle a very grouchy Ronto. “Stomps,” She rubbed her side before reaching to the side of the neck. “Come on. Wake up.”

Stomps grumbled and chuffed in her face while turning her head. “Aw. Come on, Girl. Please do not be-” Stomps plopped down onto the ground in protest. “Okay. What if I spoil you for a week?” Stomps head tilted slightly but ignored her. “Okay. Two weeks plus spa every other day.”

There was a pause before Stomps groaned and stood back up. “Thank you.” She said as she started to hook Stomps up, again.

‘Didn’t mean to make it worse…’

Taken aback by that statement, confused, Flyndt barely registered Vreva speaking to him and only then due to the interruption and Foxen’s response. He sighed and shrugged his arms, did not think there was a way to convince her. Offering to take whatever of Archian back to village, good counter point. Sagitta’ compromise also good point. Thankfully Mymir seemed to have reasoned with the girl to a degree she agreed to.

Relief.

Flyndt adjusted his grip on his spear and nodded once to Savi, voicing his ready to head out. As he passed before Foxen to start heading towards the gate, he paused, It is O.K. let us go, yes?

He turned and went, leaving the other to follow if so.

O.K.

Us. Us go. Didn’t mean leave be for everything. Tell later.

Okay, yes.

Yes, Foxen said, though the Omwati was already moving. He palmed his knife back in its place and felt approximately 45000 kPas of pressure lift from the lungs/shoulders/atoms as he followed Flyndt.

Mission continue.

As they traveled, and the amount of dust in the air increased, Foxen was forced to take his goggles from his pack and put them on. The press of the object on the face, at least, did not cause static in the mind, not like some things did, pressure around the mouth or throat.

The muzzle had been a favorite, but the piece of shit hadn’t blinded him that often.

Nonetheless, the necessity of it slightly narrowed the field of vision and altered the colors of Flyndt slightly too. And there was dust in the air, which did make static. He set it to status: ignore and felt crankiness increase 8900%.

Stupid dust stupid sand stupid fraking mission. Why did he have to go and promise Tajga to bring her shitty abusive father back. They could have just left by now with the children safe.

Although, no one said the shitty abusive father had to be returned alive.

Less O.K. he communicates to Flyndt as they go into the mountains and the terrain changes to stone, to sand. It’s important intel. His partner needs to know he’s suboptimal. His mouth makes a sneer at the first crunch of sand underfoot. Ugh and he doesn’t have his body suit so he can feel it beneath the armor pieces ugh.

The sand. Rubs between the plates. Buffs the skin. It is like.

Set. Status. Ignore.

IGNORE.

The body– the Foxen keeps marching.

Eventually they come to a crossroads. He pulls out the map useless merchants gave them, previously passed around between the Vreva and the Doon for copying. Even if the map has inaccuracies in exactness, it has some important differences.

Alert, he says, snapping his fingers and gesturing at the others so Flyndt knows he means to tell all these bozos something. Merchant’s map is different. Some of these passages have been completely blocked since their last rendition. Supposition: someone did it in the last 28 hours, or the explosion caused it after the merchants came.

- He pointed at the bow on top of the rock pile, slowly pivoting to search more. Idiot M-I-M-E-E-R said A-R-C-H bow here. Can any of you jediit frakers track. The– his eyes searched boulders and platform that could serve as a nice Flyndt perch with sufficient throwing velocity, and the ears picked up breathing behind the black boulder. Something breathing there. Another pointed finger.

Flyndt translated the older man while extracting his scarf from his belt. He offered it to Foxen with a nod, feathers ruffling in the dusty breeze. Not exactly the dust bath he planned for.

After getting a good look at the place through the dusty air, Kathka spotted the bow alleged to be here. Of all the things that had changed since their map was drawn, that was at least still the same. She slid off Goremonger’s back and stepped over to pick up the bow. Until they found Archian, it would rest over her chest next to the one she was borrowing from town.

Another gust of sand promted her to adjust the scarf over her face, fix her poncho, and straighten her goggles. Terrible conditions for sniffing out nearby creatures, especially with all the lingering scents from the recent skirmishes around here. Still, her ears picked up something… “Hey, you guys sensing that?” she asked, facing the Force-users among them.

Sagitta frowned and felt bad for Stomps. When they arrived, she decided to give her girl a break and the team can kiss her ass if they disagreed. She disconnected Stomps from the mead. If they need the mead, well the team can bloody take care of it.

She paused. Wait. Why was she so cranky?

Lack of sleep.

That’ll do it. Flyndt interpreted Foxen as she felt a bit hurt. ‘Jediit frakers’ Though she can’t blame him. She had been ignoring her Force.

“I-I’ll try.” With a smile, she focused and was very calm. “There’s someone on the platform.” Then she glanced over at the cave. “Something is in there but they are calm. Pretty active….” Her head turned to the rocks that blocked the passage as her eyes widened. Without any hesitation, she ran to get a better sense of the rocks blocking the passage. “A couple is hurt here!” She was concerned and worried.

Seeing the Omwati’s scarf come undone briefly distracted from Very Important Surveillance with reveal of additional 9 cm of ink stained throat. After 3.2 seconds to realize it was being offered to him, the knees wobbled gratefully and he took the cloth, signing his thanks. Trying to decide best coverage, he ended up draping it over the headtails and tying loosely over the face/nose/shoulders.

Thank you, he repeated with emphasis, for Knowing me.

Then the Sagitta contributed sensed observations, and went running straight towards the boulder where he had indicated breathing of something that had to be large to be heard from this distance, you absolute unrelenting idiot, do you not even check for traps.

If she got Flyndt killed. He would resuscitate her just to kill everyone here while she watched, then her, then himself.

As it was, there was no stopping her. So he indicated the ledge he’d seen with this new intel incorporated.

Go ghost? I throw you up there? Eliminate other presence? Tactical advantage to claim high ground, superior vantage point, assess.

Flyndt paused at the gratitude, the words, then nodded again with a small smile. His attention shifted to the intel Sagitta shared and followed Foxen’s direction. Throw him? A smidge of hesitation, short lived as he trusted Foxen and his own abilities.

“I can,” Flyndt affirmed, pulling out his petar blade. He paused to consider his approach once up there, would have to act fast. He kept his voice low to Foxen and whoever was close enough, “Hrmm, let us get closer. Look away after land. I will flash them.”

The Nautolan nodded, also seeming to look over the Omwati’s weapon selection. Favoring one handed knuckle weapon over spear. Tight confines. Acrobatic movement. He’d be fine if he fell, either from Foxen tossing him or from the ledge, but enemy could be alerted.

“Hrm,” he grunted back lowly, acknowledging the direction to look away. Anathema though it was, he’d seen what Flyndt could do and trusted the simple instruction. No different than not staring at a flash bang or the sun.

He drew his beskar dagger from his belt and offered it to the Omwati, adding, Kick their asses.

They crept closer to the ledge at a casual pace, looking as though exploratory. But once near, Foxen turned to Flyndt, crouched to one knee and opened his arms. Sanguine eyes locked with sunset as Flyndt put the kal dagger in his mouth at the hilt, watching each other for one second of hesitation before Flyndt stepped a sandaled foot into the cradled his clasped hands made, as if to give a boost.

One hell of a boost.

When Flyndt’s hand braced on his shoulders, they both inhaled, a breath he held between them. They’d only done this sort of thing once before, in their escape. Flyndt, reckless, bold Flyndt, stopping him and demanding, “throw me!” even with one arm broken – his fault. The sand and dust don’t help the static of that memory, but everything else is different enough: no collars, they’re both healthy, trading equipment, trust.

He tilts his head, ready?

Flyndt nods, crest flaring, and then with an exhale of focus melts right out of sight. He can still feel him in his arms, but he’s invisible. Ghost.

Foxen looks up, calculating angle/distance/heft. And then he heaves, feeling all 40 kg of Flyndt sail out of his arms. As soon as he does, he turns his face away, presses the back to the canyon wall, and draws pistol.

In one moment, Flyndt is drawing upon the Force, weaving shadows and light in an ever oscillating fabric. The next he was flying, air rushing through his plumage, feeling the fabrics of his pants and poncho ruffling. The paired sensation of the weave and the freedom from the ground felt ethereal, just a soul hoovering above. At the peak of the arch, the omwati tucked his shoulders into a front flip and landed smoothly on both feet, a hand steadying himself on the ledge.

A held breath.

His gaze glanced over the rocky shelf until it landed on two short robed individuals crouched near the edge with long rifle barrels perched there. It took him a second to realize they were aiming at the group.

Phwee-fweet!

Two heads swiveled at the whistle towards the seemingly empty space he occupied, having not noticed pebbles clattering at his approach or the slight shimmer of his shape. As soon as he did, Flyndt directed the light refracting around his body, pulling it sharply from his body and directing it in a quick burst of light between them. His own gaze adverting just as they had registered his form before being blinded. High-pitched yelps escaping them.

Acting quick, the no-longer ghost avian took the kel dagger from his mouth and charged forward. One quick swipe, beskar slicing the long barrel in two. There was no time for mild surprise and awe towards the feat, Flyndt called to the others as he retreated a step back towards the safety of the rock face, away from the edge.

“Jawas!”

The poacher’s list…

She slowed down, her brows frowned. Her hands were sticking out and her body was slightly hunched down as if she was balancing herself. It was more of a ‘wait a minute’ posture.

Cave of Fangs is Arqets territory

Holy kriff.

…they’d skewer you in the blink of an eye.

Kathka’s voice rang in her head. Carefully, she focused on the Force and was cloaked. She silently and slowly tipped toe away. The eye closed.

Jawas! Flyndt’s voice rang.

“Oh that’s great,” Sagitta mumbled, worried that they were going to wake up the Arqets now. She ran to the cave and met up with Savi and Kathka. “Those rocks, are, Arqets,” exhaled Sagitta. “We need to hurry before Jawas calls for more or the Arqets wake up-” She glanced over at the hole. “Anything in there?”

At Sagitta’s mention of the Jawas calling for backup, Vreva rushed into action. “Got it!” She sprinted forward and launched herself into the air with the power of the Force. After soaring over Foxen’s head, she landed gracefully on the ledge. A quick glance around found her target.

She dropped over the ledge, then drew her blade as she stepped forward. The Jawa, still blinking from the flash, had no time to react. Blood splattered the stone. One left.

Jawas.

Plural.

The fierce and undeserved rush of pride/admiration/excitement that comes from noting the flash go off above and hearing Flyndt’s cry, seeing 20 cm of sliced clean barrel clatter down to the sand in front of him, is a brief high. There are enemies, and they are priority.

The eyes track the Sagitta retreating and read the lips speaking of rocks being…is that word ARQETS? No time for that yet. The Vreva is in motion, sailing overhead. Backup for Flyndt. He assesses in a heartbeat and chooses distraction, aggression.

Foxen bolts from his position against the canyon wall below the platform and runs directly into calculated firing line of the Jawa rifles. Pivots, and readies a throwing knife. He sees as Flyndt crouches ready to attack on the ledge, as Vreva lands and cuts down one. One left they can see, useless gun, possible intel.

He aims at the other. Chambers the arm. Throws, accounting for distance/trajectory/descent.

Non-lethal target selected: KNEECAPS. Even if it gets away from all of them, it will not get far.

Metal punches home through cloth robe, and the already blinded Jawa stumbles.

“Oh great,” Savi said with a huff, “That’s wonderful news. I haven’t checked it out yet, no. I managed to knock a hole through the wall of rocks but nothing larger so far.”

They gestured toward the hole to ensure Sagitta knew that’s what she was talking about.

The moment the ‘boulder’ moved, Kathka gasped, ears and nostrils flaring. “Arqet! Scatter!!” she shouted, dashing away from the massive creature’s path.

It didn’t come at them, though. No, it went for the jawas. Didn’t even bother with Vreva. Kathka backpedaled from the wall and commanded her animals to back off, but her attention stayed on the arqet. Something was off. It was tracking something, probably someone, she couldn’t see, and seemingly not with the same hostile intent it had exercised against the jawas.

Terrible kriffing time to have an invisible teammate lurking in the action.

All of a sudden a massive boulder like creature had clawed itself onto the cliff and tore into the deceased body. Flyndt stepped backwards until rock pressed against his back and froze, crimson crest raised. As he stared at the large eyes, he noted it did not seem interested in him or Vreva but the beast was already moving towards the jawa writhing in pain on the ground.

Crunch.

An ear piercing scream.

It had lifted the fallen jawa in it’s jaws and broke their leg, the throwing knife embedded clattering onto the rock. Eyes widen and feathers clamping down, Flyndt in her terror melted out of sight. Hide, hide, run. Go!

The Arqet’s head snapped in his direction, must of noticed the disappearance from it’s peripheral. It’s nostrils flaring as it dropped the unconscious foe, who smacked into the ledge with a meaty thud.

A held breath.

Then Flyndt darted, ran. One, two, three steps. His sandal planted on the edge of the ledge and he launched himself towards Foxen. An invisible missile letting out a whistle, arms outstretched

Catch me–

–something heavy collided into him, throwing him off to the side. He hit the ground hard several meters away from his intended target, rolling across the sandy rocky paths, arms up trying to protect his head. The Force woven lights and shadows shedding off of him, leaving him prone upon the ground visible. A heavy crash landed behind him, skidding hooves coming to rest nearby as dust clouded in their wake.

Flyndt gasped and heaved for several heartbeats, fighting for the wind that had left him. Everything ached from the impact, bruised and scraped beneath the thinner fabrics of his clothes. For a moment, he wanted to just curl in a ball and stay there. No, could not. Danger. He choked back a groan and forced himself to flip over and get his feet under him in a crouch – and froze.

Hoovering right before him was a blood stained maw, large eyes staring at him as horns curled around at his sides, basketing him in.

For a moment: victory. Flyndt, beatific up on the ledge, the plague that had heralded the jawa’s doom, all clear.

Then: a rock unfurls and surges up the cliff face in seconds flat, hooves seemingly defying the vertical surface. Blood sprays and flesh tears.

The heart stops.

Flyndt!

High-pitched screaming, irrelevant. Fallen knife, irrelevant. Flyndt disappeared from view, melting into rock.

The head moved. Tracking. No.

Flyndt. Where. What.

A whistle.

His whistle, that birdsong calling him home.

Foxen opened his arms, braced, unable to move to position himself for catching but knowing he was being bid–

No impact. No heated body, no smell of feathers/adrenaline/dust. No weight in his arms.

Instead: the creature had lunged–

NO!

–and Flyndt reappeared, a whirlwind of color in mid-air, slammed into by the massive horned head snapping after him. His flight path veers. His body falls.

He hits the ground.

Impact.

Crunch.

NO.

Sand and dust kick up in a trail as Flyndt rolls, arms over the head, then falls still. The beast lands and skids, stomping towards the Omwati.

The heart stops.

NO NO NO NO NO.

Flyndt breathes. Hard, harsh, injured – alive.

Foxen moves.

Run.

He feels nothing. There are no other sounds of screaming Jawa or wind in canyon or other Things with them. There is no screaming in the head, where the memory is, memory of horrible horns in the stomach, burrowing into him like digging for, he now knows, roots, memory of legs and fingers and ribs and hands and toes crushed under stomping hooves, memory of teeth ripping out chunks and pieces and eating them.

There is silence, and there is Flyndt still breathing.

And there’s the thing in his fraking way.

The Omwati scrabbles up, impossible, perfect, enduring, pain on his olive features, and the arqet closes in. Its horns bracket him, heaving breath and bloody maw.

NOT. MY. BIRD.

A strangely worded task for the body, but a clear one.

Deny.

-

The arm lifts on approach, the hand flattening to activate climbing claws. The hand snaps out and curls around the curve of rigid, ribbed horn, while the other swings at full force, sinking claws into massive shoulder/rocky hide like meat hooks. The feet plant. The legs lift. The body heaves.

The Foxen snarls soundlessly, Get the frak away from him.

He heaves, muscles coiling, bones straining under the weight, and throws the arqet as away as he can. It hits the ground and rolls, looking confused and stunned by both brief flight and impact.

He does not give a frak.

Foxen turns, panting and trembling, as noise crashes back into the body, and sensation, and feeling. He rushes the remaining 2.4 m the arqet had occupied between him and Flyndt and skids on his knees beside the Omwati, one arm cradling around him and drawing towards chest to assist to feet/carry away if must, the other drawing the heavy pistol and pointing it at the dazed arqet. He bears both rows of teeth in a full-fledged snarl, hissing in its direction, every tendon ready to roll/run/retreat with Flyndt or fight if must.

Doon stepped forward, there seemed to be a few things happening at once. Still, the Devil you know. And he didn’t know what was behind these rocks, besides the dangerous vibe they gave off. He clenched his jaw and stepped closer again, one paw on the hilt of his beskad while the rocks move, preparing himself for anything necessary

With a clench of their fist, Savran willed the Force to seize a large portion of the rocks surrounding the hole they made previously. Then, they pulled their hand backward to forcibly dislodge them from their places. Unfortunately, the rocks from the other side began to fill the gap they created.

After this, they sensed something … buzzing? It came from somewhere behind the wall, but they couldn’t tell where. What they did know is that whatever it was, it was angry. Savran pulled their vibrocleaver from its sheath and waited, knowing it was only a matter of time before they were attacked again.

“Be careful,” they said to the others, “There’s something else behind those rocks that’s angry. Buzzing, like an insect.”

With two Arqets now visible, and a buzzing like an insect indicated, Foxen was having absolutely none of it. He wanted to see how badly Flyndt was hurt. He needed them safe.

But threats.

The others weren’t paying attention.

What if the Mirialan tried to hug these things too?

He struggles between keeping the pistol leveled at the arqets and cave or screaming at one of the healers with his hands. They probably won’t even look at them. Too busy with animals. Maybe Flyndt can call for their attention since he fraking can’t–

A small gloved olive hand touched his chest.

“H-hoo, breathe, Fox,” the Omwati ordered, and the chest collapses and expands. The raised arm is shaking. He endangers them both looking down, seeking sunsets, struggling with the simple order.

Breathe breathe breathe.

“Am fine. Scraped, bruised, just need–” Flyndt winces, like breathing hurts – it does it does help – and struggles too, but not out of his hold; to pull out his medpac and offer it. “Hurry, while they distract.”

This too is a simple order, and another look confirms the arqets are growling but not moving. He growls too and turns back to his home, knowing home with watch his back, nods.

The pistol sets aside in reach and he tears the medpac open, easing Flyndt to sitting on his own. The Omwati undoes his vest and opens it while Foxen takes out tape and moves to wrap ribs underneath it, holding bacta syringe carefully between his teeth while he does. When tied off, he warns, *Needle, I’m sorry. *

Flyndt nods back, vigilant over his shoulder, as he injects a dose. It’s enough for now.

Vreva had frozen when the Arqet leaped over the rubble and consumed the fallen Jawa. When it rounded on the other one and shredded its legs she backed up against the wall. Yellow eyes were wide and staring. Suddenly she was transported back into the mind of her younger self, afraid and alone and facing death in the eye. Thankfully it moved on to some invisible prey. Shit, not Flyndt. At least it was distracted. She had to gather her nerves.

She swallowed hard and ignored the Jawa’s shrill screaming. There was a sound under the rubble and it was likely it could be their friend. Would the Jawas leave one of their own beneath the rocks?

She climbed back over and started to dig. The Arqets were distracted by the others. She would deal with the tasks of this side.

Tasks. Objectives. Easier to focus on with fear still gripping her mind. Vreva heaved a boulder almost as large as herself with the ease of a sack of grain.

“Shit, whoever is in there, whats that buzzing? You still in there?” She then barked a directive to anyone who might listen. “Someone keep an eye on that Jawa. Get his damn mouth shut if you can!”

The damn things were all over the place. But by the time the one had Flyndt on the ground, it had every chance to skewer the man. It didn’t. Neither did its friend.

Kriffing two of them, son of a…

That was when Kathka noticed the second arqet’s limp. Tracing its obvious pain down its body, she saw it - an embedded blade that could only have been Archian’s knife.

They were still. Why were they still? This wasn’t normal arqet behavior. Nothing here is… Maybe she could stand to go with it.

“I’m gonna kriffin’ kill myself,” Kathka whispered to no one, already regretting what she was considering.

With a long, slow breath, she steadied her nerves and lowered her hand from her bow. With gentle, cautious steps, she approached the arqets. “Easy,” she spoke softly as they took note of her approach. “Easy…”

As she neared the injured arqet’s hide, her hand inched forward and tenderly gripped the hilt of the blade in its side. “Easy,” she breathed.

One swift tug, and it was out with a spill of blood. She backpedaled several steps immediately, bracing for anything.

A whistle emerged from the cave. What in the world was that whistle? Next thing she knew when she turned her head to watch the Arqet take flight as her eyes followed it before it landed.

‘Kriff. Remind me to never piss him off…’ She took a step but stopped when Foxen and Flyndt were quick with the medical kit. If they aren’t calling her or Vreva over, it wasn’t bad enough. Kathka quickly left the cave and went to help the arqet. The buzzing sounds were getting louder. Savi, Doon, and Vreva were doing an amazing job removing the rocks.

Curious, she decided to try something.

Sagitta decided to whistle back into the cave that she heard it from.

Bugs. Absolutely not. Though what did she expect with all that buzzing?

Vreva dropped the rock she had in hand and backed away from the cave entrance. After assessing the situation she figured everything was covered. Kathka would assist Archian, the others could deal with the bugs, and the Arqets were apparently friendly to their master. The only thing that remained was that screaming Jawa.

“I’ll get the hostage. I’m sure you all can handle a few bugs.” Without a word she hopped back up over the ledge. The screaming stopped with a swift blow to the face.

“Thank you,” Flyndt quickly uttered, wincing from the poke.

Using Foxen as a shield, he swiftly lowered his shirt and shifted to fastening a couple of his vests loops, just enough to keep it from flapping loosely. Taking the Nautolan’s hand, he returned onto his feet once more with a grimace, the compression of the bandage aiding in breathing.

Bounding hoof steps in the clearing had him quickly reeling, drawing the lent beskar kal dagger once more. Suddenly the Arqet was supporting an injured shistavanen one minute and the next slammed against rocks by giant insects. Familiar ones. The kind Drakor tried snacking on earlier.

Screeching from the rocks above caught his ears and for a moment he considered going back on that ledge and hushing the Jawa, prevent it from attracting more poachers. Yet, he could not move towards that direction. In fact, after being chased by a living bull of a boulder, Flyndt was inclined to stay and defend this specific three meter by three meter area. Him and Foxen. He crouched slightly just in front of Foxen, between him and the beasts.

Once Archian emerged, Kathka was on her way toward him, eyeing the obvious wound he bore, but the swooping arrival of the preying makthiers stopped her in her tracks. The fact that the damn things could haul an arqet was worse than she’d initially realized. There was no telling what lied deeper in that cave, but they were dragging the stone-like creature somewhere.

“Schutta– Don’t let those things get far!” Kathka shouted before picking up the pace herself. Odds were, Archian was stung, and she still had that antidote.

“Com'ere,” she told the Aedile when she reached him. With one arm around his back and one of his own pulled across her shoulder, Kathka pulled Archian away from the mouth of the cave to safety. “Lie down. Let me take a look at that.”

Archian cooperated easily enough. Just as she’d expected, he’d been stung. Kathka lifted her head, whistled, and barked a command in her native tongue. From the passage where they’d stowed themselves, Goremonger and Gladitusk came running. In the meantime, Kathka removed her bag to dig for the antidote. The small bottle was hastily presented.

“I need you to drink this,” she told Archian. As he took it, she turned to the varactyl and anooba that stopped at her side. Kathka pointed her thumb over her shoulder, back to the cave. “Glad, hunt! Follow Doon.”

The anooba’s ears lifted at his favorite command. Gladitusk darted off where she pointed, quickly sniffing out the other shistavanen to join in the hunt.

Kathka stood from Archian to reach for the saddlebags on her varactyl, already planning a makeshift treatment, but paused. She didn’t need to jury-rig a solution - the wonder boys over there had full sets of medical supplies. Without much of a warning, she hurried over to them to snag the medpack left out on the ground, seeing as Flyndt was already back up. Treating Archian with all this would be easy enough. Probably…

Doon flexed, bracing for impact as the giant bugs buzzed towards him, but they went wide. As they zipped passed he Drew his beskad, and when they turned, one headed back for the cave, he swung high. The metal blade cleaved clean through the tail of the giant insect, spattering the ground (and Doon) with bug bits and goop. He kept his eye on the two creatures, intending to keep them busy while everyone else was occupied

Savran didn’t hesitate to act when Doon landed a successful blow on the insectoid creature. Extending a hand toward it and dipping into the wellspring of emotion sealed away beneath their stoic demeanor, Savran issued a command to the Force and the Force obeyed. Fingers etched with onyx tattoos of a long-forgotten culture closed into a fist, crushing the vile insect into a lumpy mass of broken chitin and dripping, green hemolymph.

Seeing Flyndt back upright with hold on his hand and expression of pain, Foxen barely paid any mind to the Kathka darting over and stealing their medical supplies. His attention was split between protection, surveillance, and engagement as the growling, lingering arqet suddenly moved, and the rocks of the cave moved, and–

Oh now there are more gigantic poisonous insects.

Yippie.

There’s another Shistavanen too, and whistling, and a Jawa no longer screaming, point to the Vreva. One insect begins combat with one arqet, slamming it into cave wall, and he knows how heavy that thing is, because he just threw it. Insects are not supposed to have that kind of ramming speed and sufficient force. What the hell.

He hates this fraking mission so fraking much.

And then Flyndt, hurt or not, advances the 0.3 m necessary to crouch in front of him, to protect him from the animals, and that is.

So much.

So much, it’s home, and he just wants his home, and to get back to the house and far away from here and hear about The Shani Problem and have dinner and sleep for six weeks.

Which means finishing this goddamn job.

One bug is cut/squished. Foxen aims his Reynolds pistol, flicks the setting over to double-firing, hears two rounds chamber, and shoots.

His arm is steady. His aim is impeccable. The damn thing doesn’t explode like the monkey’s skull did, but it does drop as two small bullet holes punch through its carapace and two much larger ones crunch out the other side, practically bisecting it. The large body falls and skids, leaving ichor in its wake.

And finally with no Jawa screams and no buzzing, a beat of quiet.

But they are not safe.

The Nautolan’s gun arm pivots for the first arqet, the one that had hurt Flyndt.

He aims for the eye.

Fires.

Sagitta exhaled. Her hand was on her chest. What. The. Frack. Happened. Her pink hues glanced around as she quickly backed out of the bug’s way. Kathka got Archian.

Savi squashed a bug that Doon was dealing with by using TK and honestly, that made her slightly cringed. But they did what they had to do.

The screaming stopped.

Okay. Check everyone. Stomps were good. Just wait a minute. Was that little she-akk actually falling asleep? Her lips curved into a smile. At least Stomps was okay.

Ah. So Vreva was the one that stopped the screaming.

Then she glanced over at Foxen and Flyndt. They seemed to be okay too-

Her brows furrowed.

Who was he aiming for? Her eyes followed his arm.

Her heart stopped and she just reacted.

‘Please work, please work, please work-’ Panic caught in her throat and her heart pounded. and stood in front of the Arqet. Her hand rose as a Force barrier surrounded her stopping the bullet. Her eyes were furious. She was panting. That was too fracking close. Though if she got shot, it’s no biggie.

Won’t be the first time. Pretty sure won’t be the last time.

She had no words for Foxen at first. She couldn’t even speak. The barrier continued to swirl around her as she remained still.

Then her expression softened. She almost looked sad. She was also so tired. It had been an exhausting almost two-three days. She doesn’t even know anymore. She’s still new to all this.

“It’s just acting on instinct and it is an animal… if it hurts again. Okay. But… they aren’t doing anything.”

Then an exhale as her hand dropped. The barrier went down too. He could choose to fire again and she wouldn’t stop him. But she will add one more thing, “Please?”

Flyndt was not expecting the third slug shot, after the insects had all been killed. His heart stopped when suddenly Sagitta slide in to intercept it. The blows impacted against something in the air, causing ripples. It took him a second to recognize the barrier as it was, a power some of the Ghosts of Omwat had trained. He himself lacked the skill.

‘Please?’

Leather clad and olive fingers hook onto Foxen’s pants. Flyndt shakes his head, signs. Let her deal with them.

The Sagitta runs out in front of his gun.

In front of it.

An…energy shield, as it can best be described, appears around her and stops the bullets. The spectacle causes him 2.1 seconds of hesitation. The mind takes note. It has files on this, but no direct experience to catalogue with visual properties included. It cracks where impact occurs, like glass, but does not break. It falls when her hand does.

Curious.

Files updating.

Please?

Well, it made its choice. Obstacle added: approximately 15 cm breast tattoo/pleural cavity/spine. He cocks the hammer back.

A gloved hand snags into the remaining material of trousers/armor. Flyndt shakes his head, suggests delegation.

You trust this dumbass to deal with them? She’s probably going to hug it, and then it’ll come at us when it’s done with her, he signs back, not lowering the gun, but removing his finger from the trigger because someone here has goddamn firearm awareness, you half-baked chartreuse monkey.

Would slow it down, give time to move, if so. Flyndt reasoned back

Foxen paused at that.

Reasonable, he conceded, and in a sinuous motion lowered and holstered the pistol, instead angling himself so that they were somewhat back-to-back and facing the beasts, glancing over shoulder at their retreat, the other exits, the cart, the cave, the Shistavanen. Possibly our target. Extract and retreat? Can you run?

Savran blinked.

Seeing the pistol holstered, Flyndt exhaled. The Omwati glanced to the Mirialan and gave her a small nod. His attention redirected to the injured fellow Foxen indicated.

“Maybe, think Mymir referred Archian as Red once. If name comes from coat and way with the creatures…” Flyndt trailed off. He stood fully beside the Nautolan. “I think I can, yes. Will ask, confirm if him.”

Crossing the distance between them, Flyndt came to pause beside the busy Kathka. Purple eyes glanced down and fixed onto the stranger. “Hoo, hey, puhta, you Archian, yes?”

Vreva tore strips of her robes to use as a makeshift tourniquet. She didn’t want to waste her energy healing the Jawa, but the group needed them alive. How they were still breathing was a miracle. Vreva would have felt a bit of pity if they weren’t the enemy.

She leaned over the cave ledge after her mediocre field medicine was performed. “You still alive over there?” she called. “Jawa’s still breathing for now.” She shaded her gaze with one hand as she leaned further out. “That Archian with you, or someone from the village?”

C r u n c h

Doon’s ear flickered, eye widening as the bug was turned into a chitinous, goopy ball. His stance faltered, blade wavering in front of him as he took a step back. he held there for a second, ear flat as he death gripped the Beskad. His stomach churned as he took another step backwards, all he could hear was the thumping of blood before a shot rang out. He turned, expecting another fight.

Instead, he watched Sagitta hold a barrier up, blocking a shot from Foxen.

Doon was already moving as the hammer was cocked again.

The distance was closed rather quickly, and Doon’s free hand clenched into a fist, claws dug into his palm. He pulled back, snarling with a wild look in his eye. His fist and shoulder was thrown, and cracked across Foxen’s cheek and jaw. The growl erupted into a series of shouts in Shistavanen cursing, ending with “What do you think you’re doing you Kark!?!” a twinge in Doon’s chest caused his breath to faulter, and a pain begun to spread. He ignored it for the moment, staring death down into Foxen.

Despite the crack of the punch, Foxen’s head hardly turned on his massive neck and shoulders. It slowly pivoted back, like a stretch of the muscle, and a tilt of his chin to either side issued soft, satisfying cracks. Red, unblinking eyes stared the 0.3 m up at the single yellow orb that had widened in pain/startle response following the blow. Held the stare for 3.7 seconds then assessed.

Inventory: * Electrical burns * Missing eye * Mauled ear, unresponsive to surrounding auditory stimuli compared to opposite ear that twitches; supposition: poor hearing * Tipped claws * Heaving chest and spasm of right arm indicating cardiovascular weakness * No visible lightsaber despite jediit status; known power set: body/mind control, invasion.

Assessment: shoot the fraker in the head before it can violate the self again

Time elapsed: 15.4 seconds. Status: critical. Arqets still present, alive. Meat shield/speed bump Mirialan unlikely to delay more than 3 seconds. This one is getting between him and a clear path of egress for Flyndt.

Alright then.

One hand palms a knife. The other snaps fingers to alert Flyndt of danger from all sides.

No sooner had Flyndt reached the two Shistavanens’ sides and inquired on the identity of the stranger did a series of growling and shouting rise from behind him. The Omwati swiftly pivoted to find Dovak nose to nose with Foxen. A flash of silver in a dark palm.

No!

Several Force fueled steps forward, Flyndt slid to a halt beside Foxen, a hand reaching up to press against his arm, fingers splayed, asking.

“Stop! It done. No gun aimed. We have injured. Focus! Anār tirith!” Flyndt jabbed to fingers to the sky, sunset orbs latched onto Dovak’s sole eye waiting with baited breath.

Sagitta’s muscles tensed when she heard the cock of the hammer and was ready for the sharp and burning sensation.

It never arrived.

The shot never fired again. She sighed with relief but then a black blur passed by her eyes, “No,” she ran to Doon’s side, both of her arms wrapping around one of his. The Mirialan attempted to pull his arm to get his attention and lead him away.

“Doon, I’m okay! We don’t have time for this!” It started to dawn on her what she did. By standing in front of a bullet without thinking.

Kriff.

They hadn’t expected themselves to be on Doon’s side for anything save the mission itself, but when the hulking Shistavanen punched Foxen across the face. The latter had clearly lost his kriffing mind, firing at a teammate and threatening to do so a second time.

When Sagitta, the fool, interceded in the building feud between the two men, Savi extended their hand in an attempt to pull her away with the Force. “Stay out of the way, you fool,” Savi said, “If they want to kill each other, let them. You don’t owe him anything especially.”

They glared at the Nautolan hybrid while uttering the last part of their sentence, and tightened their grip on their vibrocleaver.

“Hrm,” Foxen grunted from underneath Flyndt’s staying fingers, his only response to the sudden imposition of the idiot Mirialan yelling for Doon, not Dovak. The two fingered gesture to the sky made something curl in the chest, directed at the one-eyed Shistavanen, just like the speed with which Flyndt appeared at his side after a thrown punch he had fraking missed coming.

If Doonvak had gotten blood or dirt on Flyndt’s scarf he was wearing, he’d break his elbows.

Later. Because Flyndt said not now, focus, injured.

Then the wounded Shistavanen was coming near. While nothing of Doon had him blink, he did retreat 1.7 m rapidly with Flyndt, as much pulling him along as just plain stumbling away with him, when the arqet under the presumed-Archian came near. He held himself tense as beskar, clutching the Omwati’s sleeve in a vice grip.

Doon’s engine rumbling growl slowly weakens as the two back up. The pain hadn’t subsided, and the growl faded into a throat clearing cough as he stared down Foxen and Flyndt. To the later he spoke, lip still curled into a snarl. “Idiot. The both of you.” He growled into another restrained cough again “Keep your -kmpf- pet on a leash. Next time it won’t be a punch.” He ended with another growl, that quickly turned into him sucking air back into his lungs.

He took a step back, then turned away entirely. The thumping in his ears wasn’t fading, nor was the pain that crawled across his lung. He reached behind his back, pulling the inhaler from his pack and bringing it to his snout. Now a decent distance from the others, he knelt down, both knees resting on the ground as he took as deep a breath through the inhaler as he could manage. His blade was placed over his lap as he settled into a meditation position. His eye closed, squeezing shut to avoid the coughing fit he knew was coming from the bacta gas

It came, causing the wolf to hunch over slightly as he hacked and wheezed.

Savran rolled their eyes. “Can we please put an end to this petty squabbling and get on with the mission,” they suggested, clearly over this entire mission and nearly everyone involved. The damned bubbly Nautolan was definitely getting a bad review for dragging them into this mess.

“It was amusing at first but now you’re all starting to remind me why I avoid spending extended amounts of time with people who haven’t lived at least a century.”

They scoffed. Children, the lot of them.

‘Anār Tirith’, ‘the suns watching.’

A warning.

Take care with your words, with your next actions.

Swearing at him, belittling his intelligence, Flyndt could take, his feathers ruffling and gaze narrowing.

‘Keep your pet on a leash.’

That? No.

This was the second time he had heard this towards Fox, and it filled him with more rage than it had from Bril’s mouth. Whether it was the term ‘pet’ – my little pet project… – or the threat of something more dire onto the hybrid. Did not fraking matter what! His blood boiled and he seethed, lunging forward –

And got yanked backwards by his own momentum versus Foxen death like grip. A stream of angry foreign words spilled from his mouth, sharp chirps and almost machine like burring enunciating it. Unable to grab a throwing knife from his right side, Flyndt hopped on on leg, pulled a sandal off smoothly and sent it sailing in Dovak-Doon’s direction. It landed short with a soft plop in the sand.

Spitting on the ground, Flyndt came to halt when Foxen did, still keeping himself before thr other man. His crimson crest remained flared even as his gaze dart away from the hunched black Shistavanen and noted the Arqet had approached and the injured man on falling on knees.

A pull. The Force. Wulfram had used it on her before and she hated it.

Her head snapped to Savi. Her pink irises glared at the Shani as she freed a hand enough to flip her off. The aggression that everyone was displaying and her exhaustion was getting to her. “Use the Force on me again, Savran, I kriffin’ dare -”

Sagitta almost fell back when Doon took a step back and her arms released the grip it had on his arm. She frowned, watching him. Sagitta cringed when he called Foxen a pet. That wasn’t right… Her hues glanced towards Archian when she picked up one word out of the entire words he muttered.

‘Tracker’

Her heart dropped. Tracker? What tracker? She tried to recount everything they went through on this three-day mission.

The kids. She’s worried about the kids.

Are the children alright!?

Ignoring everyone, including the karkin Shani and the raging sandal-throwing birb, she grabbed Archian by the shoulders. Her hands glowed to heal him but it wasn’t very effective. She was in a bad mood. Sagitta coldly and very calmly said, loud enough for everyone to pay attention to this.

“The children.” Maybe if she started with that and all of their goals were focused on the kids. Well. Mainly.

“What. Tracker. The kids are in the village right now.” Her heart was racing. Would the poachers have a reason to destroy the village? The village was attacked by Poachers when they were there last night. Were they aiming to wipe out competition or beings that were a nuisance to them? Paranoia she learned from Buir was getting to her. Her pupils dilated out of fear.

“Are. They. Safe?”

Stomps woke up. She turned her head towards Doon and nudged his head before chuffing at him. Her own way of making sure he’s okay. His sounds woke up the Ronto.

The suns beat down like they always do.

It is a dry day.

The hands are on the body.

They drag.

The eyes watch as the legs follow, limp, pulling in the sand slurried by blood/spittle/feces. The body does not feel the legs. They look…odd. Squished and reversed in places. Something red-pink-brown hits the ground as the hands dragging stumble under the body’s weight. The eyes know the rope of organ that falls out, but the brain cannot find the label. The eyes just stare as some of the hands disappear, picking up the coil of rope from the dirt and pushing it back into the body with the rest. It flops back out as soon as the dragging recommences towards the gate that leads down into darkness/confinement.

The eyes find the awful massive, three-horned thing that the body fought, left in the sand. The spectators throw the refuse and cheers, pelting the corpse.

The body…envies it.

Will they let it stay dead this time?

The suns wink out, and in the darkness, the master waits, saying, “Not your best showing, pe–”

BRRRR.

The Foxen starts, surprised by the unmistakable sounds of Flyndt angry. Sounds sort of like a rotary canon when he does that. Chirps like bullet holes. Hoots that promise knives in soft backs of knees. Irritation, annoyance, these are normal. But the occurrences of such rage have been few.

What’s wrong? he asks, tugging on the sleeve that he’s already holding apparently for the Omwati’s attention, since Flyndt is in front of him in defensive/angry position. He grimaces, looking around. Still in the canyon. Still Arqets and the idiot Sagitta shaking the presumed Archian. Doonvak on the ground.

Wait is that a sandal. A very important sandal.

He looks down. Sees a socked foot, and the rise of taloned toes swaddled in it.

What.

What happened to your shoe? he adds, bewildered.

The tug on his sleeve pulled the avian’s attention like a drawstring. He chewed his inner cheek, brow furrowed at the first question not at Foxen but the comment that had stoked his ire to begin with. He was angry, furious. A flash of red plumage as he gestured towards the offender, what he said.

Shaking his head, Flyndt returned to swiveling his head around and keeping an eye on everything as he tried to temper himself, step off the edge of his annoyance. It took another tug of his sleeves and a couple glanced over his shoulder before the Omwati turned to see his hands.

“Threw it.”

“If you keep being reckless, I will,” Savi fired back, shooting the Mirialan a bird in return.

Kathka gestured behind her, staying calm through deep breathing. “The injured arqet is just there. I pulled your knife out of its hide.”

Although they appreciated the recognition, Savi couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow upon being called their species. “My name is Savi..”

“Oh,” Foxen mouthed. And then, observing as the arqet backed away from immediate area and only Doonvak and the ronto were obstacles, said, Okay. I’ll get it. Watch back?

He didn’t want Flyndt to have to hop over there, or step around this mess in an unprotected foot, or get his sock dirty.

Vreva saw Doon throw a punch at Foxen and immediately rushed over to the group. They were all squabbling at each other, and from what she could gather Foxen had done something to piss off ‘Doon’, Sagitta had intervened, Savi had pulled her back, and Flyndt was mad at something Doon had said. Infants, the lot of them. Archian spoke, but who cares what he had to say. He was lucky she had more restraint than this Doon.

The name clicked and Vreva looked over to the Shista choking on bacta gas. She shook her head. Not now. Mission.

She placed her hands on her hips. “Are you all done doing the poachers’ work for them, or do you want me to come tug you by the frakking ears like your mother? What the kark is going on?” Her expression twisted into a snarl. “Actually, on second thought, I dont give a kriff! I’ve got an unconscious Jawa waiting for interrogation that probably has an hour at most in him. Get your sorry act together, set your dicks aside, and karking work together so we can go home and sleep. Kark!”

She threw her hands in the air and turned her back to them to storm off back to the ledge. “Someone come help me, or so help me I’ll just put the damned thing out of his misery!”

More yelling. And a lot of dick apparently.

Irrelevant.

Nodding to Flyndt as the red crest stayed flared in fury and brrrring continued over whatever Doonvak had apparently said – set subtask: take that inhaler and crush it, so that any more Omwati-upsetting words are lost to slow and painful cellular suffocation – Foxen turned and strode past the Zabrak woman going off on the lot of them, approaching the sandal that had fallen and picking it up. He took the moment to look over at Tekuani, checking position and assessing, before he pivoted and returned to Flyndt’s side, ignoring the other things present except for logging audio files/visual input.

Foxen offered the shoe to Flyndt with a slight smile. He nearly knelt to put it on, but the bird probably wouldn’t like as much. Instead he tuned in on the audio about interrogation and misery assistance.

He signed as the Vreva stormed by he and Flyndt, Assist with interrogation, yes or no?

Flyndt exhaled deeply and glanced in the direction Vreva went, then the others. They were all right, they needed to get back on task. He really rather not be around the Arqets, and both Sagitta and Kathka were handling Archian.

“Yes, let us,” he nodded.

Outstretching a hand towards the open med kit near the Shistavanens, he managed to shut the lid haphazardly and skid it across the rocky sand until it was close enough to comfortably pick up. Minimal supplies were loss in the sledding, but between Archian, himself, and the village guard it was starting to deplete. Clipping the pack to his belt, he motioned for them to follow after Vreva.

Nodding, Foxen followed, walking backwards with Flyndt in order to keep his eyes on the others in case of further assaults or assails of stupidity, and on the arqets, “trained” or not. When they reached the ledge and the unconscious Jawa on the ground, Flyndt knelt again to open the rather low medpac. Foxen crouched opposite, reaching only for one thing while the Omwati began first aid: a stim injector.

He paused before jabbing it into the little desert fraker’s brachial vein, though. Looking down at the crushed legs, torniqueted, was overlaid with a near copy of the image, but this one the female Shistavanen merchant.

Red eyes flicked back to the Archian, then to the arqets it allegedly commanded, then back.

Jawas: attacking position; crippled.

Merchants: provoked?

Supposition: he alerted Flyndt, holding out a finger to stall treatment motions. Arqets trained by the A-R-C-H to go for legs. Attacked Jawas. Also attacked merchants. Still possible that merchants were actually also poachers.

He signed slowly to be understood, then paused as Flyndt hoo’d and, with sunset eyes boring holes into Doonvak’s back fierce enough to kill, as if debating if anything resembling coordination with these objects: people was really still worth it, huffed and looked to the Vreva. He repeated Foxen’s words.

“Hoo, does matter? Can’t reach them now. Let us deal with this,” he clacked his beak at the Jawa.

Going to wake him up, Foxen warned them both, and then jabbed the adrenal stim in and depressed the injector.

0.06 seconds.

The tiny body shot upright with a garbled scream. A scream that cut off as Foxen reached out, spread his hand flat on its chest, encompassing the width of the whole surface from fingertip to thumb, and pushed down. The tendon in his arm flexed.

Held pressure.

All yours, he signed to Flyndt for Vreva with free hand. Tell him if he doesn’t answer you, I will cave his ribcage in. Slowly.

“Gladly,” Kathka replied, turning it to offer Archian the handle. “I also believe this is your bow.” When her hands were free, she lifted the weapon off from next to her own borrowed bow and extended it to him.

Sagitta took few moments to herself to calm herself down.

She heard Archian’s request for help and made her way over. Her hand went over to her blade’s hilt but she grimaced. Can she really do it? Instead she did something expectedly of her. She mimicked Archian’s movement. Her whistle matched and her pose. She managed to take the arqet attention away from Red. She remained calm and at peace. “You do it.” Eye contact not breaking.

Vreva knelt down next to the Jawa and held up the map. “Alright, so my friend here is going to cave your chest in if you don’t cooperate. Best for both of us if you do. Now, if you can tell us how many of your friends are hanging out and where they are, we can sweep this whole matter under the rug and get you some sweet bacta. You read?”

Not quite the most adept interrogation, but Vreva wanted this mission done. Archian could sweep up the poachers as far as she was concerned. This was overtime.

The Jawa scrabbled about and grabbed hold of her clothes. It pulled her in and in a shrill scream cried, “Paaaaain!! Paaain!!” Vreva pulled free and looked to the others for assistance.

Foxen, still applying pressure, merely shrugged the opposite shoulder from the one impending execution.

He didn’t know the language, and would’ve just shown the map as well.

Seeing Vreva struggling to extract information from the jawa, Savran stepped forward and knelt next to her. “You’re going to tell my friend here what she wants to know,” they said, leaning as close to the jawa’s face as possible without making contact.

Then, they opened their mouth wide enough to show their two-inch fangs and pointed teeth. “Or I’m going to eat you alive.”

Having shifted his position to be 3cm in front of and between Flyndt at Savi’s approach, Foxen felt at his elbow/back when the Omwati went rigid at the second display of face-unhooking.

The Shani Problem was really, really starting to nag. But they had promised to talk about it later.

Then there is more screaming. And while most of it is irrelevant save location data: jungle, west passage, the next things are, baby bait.

Typically, the Foxen does not feel the additional sympathy that most species have for adolescent spawn. However, the last 56+ hours have been stressful, and Tajga and Aksel have already made vague spaces in the mind. Such as it is, the desire to shove his hand the rest of the way through the chest cavity and squeeze the heart emerges.

He increases pressure. Ribcage audibly creaks and crackles.

Savran was pleased to see that their display worked wonders to get the damned Jawa talking. They didn’t understand the language, but the creative use of the Force to probe the creature’s thoughts allowed them to decipher what it was saying. They promptly translated its message to the rest of the group before rising to their feet.

Sagitta felt the paw on her shoulder from Archian. The Mirialan slowly backed away and broke the contact with the Arqet when she felt like she was safe enough. Her pink hues glanced over at the jawa and if anyone paid attention, they would notice her cringe. Instead, she walked over to Doon and Stomps.

“Are you okay?” She smiled towards Doon while Stomps lowered her head to have some scratches which Sagitta happily provided. <@160141735354171394>

“So you got what we needed,” Flyndt spoke up, his tone low and cold. The Omwati released his hold on his petar tucked at the small of his back and pulled his gaze away from the Shani with an exhale.

No one was being eaten, not on his watch.

Taking a deep breath, Flyndt focused back on the Jawa. He wasn’t sure what the plan was for them, could not just leave them here. With the deepest wounds packed and the others wrapped all that was left was the breaks themselves. Tearing a couple steps from the Jawa’s robes, the Omwati gestured at the ledge.

“If get rifles, can stint legs. Should gag him for journey–”

‘This is for…’

Flyndt paused, a wadded up cloth held out towards Foxen for the gagging. His gaze shifted up the jawa’s body and froze on the bloody blade pressed to their throat. Several heartbeats passed, his mind reeling and processing, the outstretched hand lowering to his knees.

Oh.

This was vengeance, protection.

The raw look on Archian’s face felt so familiar, an emotion and desire that he has shared but yet to fulfill. The dissonance of his expected course of action and this was jarring enough it took him a second to realize the Shistavanen has stopped and was now offering the act to his companion.

“Do it.”

Flyndt’s brow furrowed deeply, sunset eyes fixing Archian’s in a hard stare. “If you are going to do it, do not delay. Do. It.”

“Oh, no,” Savi interjected, shoving Archian in the shoulder. “The little bird is right. Your pile of druk, your job to clean it up. You’re not passing it off to anyone else.”

Savran narrowed their eyes at the Shistavanen. “Kill the kriffing thing before I make an example out of you.”

Doon shuddered, hunched forward as he tried to breath, eyes squeezed closed. He tried ignoring the ronto that nudged him, claws imbedded in the dirt infront of him. When Sagitta spoke, he sagged slightly, tense muscles easing from whatever thought was passing through his brain in the moment. The coughing fit had passed, the burning slowly fading. But he wouldn’t feel whole.

“I am fine.” His clenched jaw muffled his response slightly, claws starting to pull from the dirt and return to the blade across his lap. His eye remained closed, mind shutting himself off from the weave of force around them. “Just needed a breather.”

Stint legs, gag him for journey…

Ah.

Okay, then.

Foxen lifted his hand away, watching the Jawa’s small chest finally expand desperately after several minutes now of steadily increasing crushing pressure. Despite the small flicker of wishing to induce pain in the creature, the Nautolan had no stake in this. If the thing lived or died was irrelevant, so long as the threat was neutralized and intel obtained.

Inventoried: confusion as to why the Shistavanen offers him ‘honors.’

Is it because the Shistavanen thinks he will revel in it.

Is it because he can be a tool – ‘pet,’ echoes double, one voice the Piece of Shit Crimelord and the other Doonvak. He doesn’t know where the latter memory comes from, but assumes from earlier loss of time/Flyndt rage escalating to shoe throwing and confiding of ‘what he said’ as the reason that the audio file comes from that gap time.

Reasonable, objectively. He is a tool of violence. But this is not his vengeance, and he didn’t choose this mission. His purpose here is not an assassination. It’s, ironically, search/rescue.

His lips curl back in disdain, perhaps more an echo of Flyndt’s challenge to the Archian than anything else.

He stands, but doesn’t move far, keeping himself between Flyndt and Savran. It suits. He makes a better shield when standing besides.

O.K? he asks the Omwati with a hand behind his back.

Vreva’s nose wrinkled in disgust at Archian. “Just put them out of their misery. No pleasure in killing something already half dead. If you prolong it, we will just have more to discuss later. I have heard enough of their screaming.” She returned the map to her pack and sat on the ledge so that she may clean her blade before sheathing it. Something else to focus on.

Without blinking, Foxen just turned to Flyndt and asked, Frak this P-U-T-A? Take kids and go?

Savran lifted an eyebrow. Was Archian working under the misguided notion that they had misgivings about killing that little kriffing jawa? And what was this talk about hating him? “Don’t get ahead of yourself, dude,” Savran interjected, clearly disinterested in listening to his pathetic little diatribe. “Hating you would require me to care about you at all. I’m just here to do a job.”

They would be glad when this mission was over so they could get off of this kriffing rock.

P-U-H-T-A, Flyndt corrected.

He held up his hand in a wait gesture, a perplexed look as he watched Archian turned and leave, the fact he was working the man’s words over his tongue was clearly evident. A moment later his brow softened slightly and the Omwati sighed deeply. He turned to Foxen with a look that spoke his intentions far before his hands did.

I want to aid him.

Puhta, the Nautolan noted in his own head. He watched Flyndt watch the Archian, and when sunset eyes turned to him, knew the mission was not done yet.

O.K, he signed back, once more setting all tiredness/panic/agitation/desire for home to ignore from their interrupted status on memory recall/reset. Head back in the game, you frak, you’re on duty. He checked the medpac visually, stooping to pick it up and close the now mostly empty vessel, wiping pooled Jawa blood from slashed throat off on his armor and exchanging it for his own at the small of his back. The kit was still full, and in particular, clean. No stains on those vestments, or so help him. Take this one, he told the Omwati, and did a last check of weapons before stepping after the Shistavanen. Inventory: four bullets in the Reynolds’ first clip remaining, six in the .45, nine throwing knives – ten, once extracted from Jawa knee, good – beskar kal wtih Flyndt. Five extra clips for each gun, various tools, vambrace.

Ready.

Sagitta gently patted Stomps’ head away and gestured for her to stop. Stomps complied. Sagitta frowned at Doon but she remained by his side and waited. No one should be alone.

Her hues glanced over to the wagon. Oh. The bag. She got Stomps attention and handed the bag to her. Stomps picked up the bag gently with her teeth. Sagitta pointed to the group and Stomps made her way over before dropping the bag onto either an unsuspecting victim or the ground.

Vreva had been seething as Archian spoke. They could have been kids, you bastard. Now you got them believing they owe you for putting them in danger. The cloth she used to clean her blade slipped, and she cursed before sticking her cut thumb in her mouth. He was right about one thing. This anger was distracting. But it was rooted in her heart despite her inclination to not be involved. It was a mission. Kill poachers. Who the hell cared about what happened to the kids? It wasn’t like she could take them in herself.

And how was her upbringing any different?

A bag fell into her lap and startled her. She held the thing in her hands with a look of confusion. When she saw Stomps’ head peeking over the ledge, her burning rage simmered.

She had to make it home. For that, she needed to focus.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she said as she gave the ronto a pat on the nose. She stood and returned to the group.

“Got supplies.” Vreva tossed the bag over to Archian, whether he was ready to catch it was his deal. Her exhaustion was evident in her tone. “Let’s finish this kriff and go home. Sick of this place.”

Stomps chuffed at Vreva before her head turned to Archian. She lowered her head and started to press her head against his body and nuzzling at his head. Gently, she nibbled his red fur on his head with her teeth.

Flyndt nodded affirmative and started to following after Archian. He halted as Stomps came through with a bag, to give Foxen space. That’s when he noticed Archian has stopped and sunk to the ground, heard his muttering. The Omwati swallowed hard and averted his gaze, sympathetic of all too familiar feelings welling in his chest.

One sec, he signed back to the Nautolan hybrid before shifting quietly after the Ronto. Snagging the bag’s strap that fell half a meter from him, Flyndt pulled it closer as he crouched. His gloves hand slowly raised and hovered hesitantly centimeters from the Shistavanen’s shoulder. He gently rests it there, a small squeeze as Stomps nuzzled.

“…hey,” he started and paused, not certain what words to use. What would be helpful here? His feathers raised slightly in consideration. “I…understand…They are safe now. We are with you still.”

Flyndt paused again, looking to the others congregated and ready to lead on. He nodded towards them if Archian would look and see. Whether or not all empathetically wanted to aid or not, they were still there after he said they could leave.

“Let us rise, and rain fire upon those that dare threaten them. Save your friend.”

A fist went up, calling a halt to the group’s movement at the canyon’s edge, though whether or not the majority of the team would recognize the signal was up in the air. Unblinking sanguine eyes scanned every centimeter of the clearing before them, ears listening, the other hand dislodging borrowed scarf from around headtails now that they were out of the worst of the sandy area in order to better feel.

Inventory updated, assessing.

Warning, Foxen signed, while Flyndt conveyed his words lowly. Sniper targeting reticle, sniper in the trees, approximately 12 m up. That’s the stupid fraking monk with the toes over there messing with chain. Supposition: trap for R-A-N-C-O-R parents, A-R-C-H, those things are bait. Warning: fruit from monkeys here too. Rabid? He paused. That wasn’t one he’d used with Flyndt before. Angry poison. Reminder: poacher leader T-E-G-R-A use of poison, traps. Be prepared. Suggest caution. Or just shoot them all now and be done with it. No other threats detected. Use, he made their symbol for the Force.

Sagitta listened as Flyndt interpreted for Foxen. Her pink hues rested on the baby rancor. “I’m going to see if I can make it cry. Maybe its parents will hear it and come here. The more of us there are, the more likely Tegra would be overwhelmed.” With that, she lays down on the ground and got its attention. Sagitta then squatted up and hunched over. The Mirialan was legit doing her best to look like Candy. Her mouth opened wide as drool spilled out.

Sure enough, the baby rancor started wailing and screeching at the top of its lungs. Sagitta looked so comfy and with the mother-like vibes, the baby wanted nothing more than to be with her.

Stomps was bored and thirsty. She turned her head and knock over the top of the mead in hopes it was water and was rather disappointed to find it wasn’t. She chuffed at the mead, sending ripples.

Foxen…stared at the Mirialan. And considered the relative waste of not having shot her. Screeching infantile rancor summoning its parent: DO NOT WANT.

Plan? he signed to Flyndt, pressing his back to the canyon wall and unholstering gun, loading the chamber once more. Behind them, mead dribbled to the ground.

Savran took stock of the new scene before them. of the Chillak, of the infant Rancor, and the shistavanen standing between them. As they observed in silence and the other members of their team began doing what they needed to prare for the next phase of their mission, something caught the shani’s eye: a tiny, nearly imperceptible red dot on the back of the shistavanen’s shoulder. At first, they thought it was a tattoo or perhaps a speck of blood from an insect bite. But they abandoned that explanation when it shifted a few centimeters to the left. Then up. Then to the left again. Only when the mobile dot aligned with the back of the figure’s head did Savi realize what it was.

“Sniper,” they hissed, whirling around to see from where the laser originated. Then, they saw it. The barrel of a blaster rifle poked out from the trees several meters above the ground, a furred hand holding it. Now wasn’t the time for action, not contemplation. Extending their hand and commanding the Force to act as an extension of it, they seized the would-be assassin and yanked hard, ripping them from the concealment of the surrounding shrubbery. Savran had hoped they hit the ground from their Force pull, perhaps even breaking a bone or two in the process, but they managed to catch themselves with one arm, hanging there for all to see.

“What do we have here?” they said aloud for everyone to hear them, pointing toward the wookie dangling from the tree. They considered using the Force to dash toward the unknown femme but decided against it for now. They didn’t know if the person was alone, after all.

Flyndt pulled his gaze from watching Sagitta’s strange display, trying to consider what she wanted to accomplish with the rancor infant. As soon as it started wailing did it click to him. She was trying to draw the Rancor here – was that not what the Poachers wanted? Foxen just said –

He understood.

“Pull sniper’s, others attention to us, away from monk and them. Will ghost and cut chain, best Rancor can grab young and go, yes?” Flyndt answered before twisting to look towards a sudden crash in branches and rustling of leaves. His eyes widening as he noted the dangling wookiee. Pulling out the lent beskar dagger, he nodded, “So fight?”

“Spectre on field,” was the alert to the others, a prompting note or quiet call out of his apparited self in the clearing. And then the omwati melted from sight.

With lights and shadows swathed around him, the omwati made his was towards the center on quick and quiet footsteps, crouching low. He circled around and halted a meter before the cloaked figure, close enought to see those wiggling toes. Confirmed old monk from the village. The shistavanen’s paws were busy attempting to lockpick the creatures’ binds, his carefree and easy going nature replaced by something more serious, focused. There was more to this man and the uniform beneath his cloak likely held more answers.

Now was not the time to ask.

“They see you.”

Flyndt warned just over his breath, a disembodied voice opposite the man at the chains. A splitsecond after he realized how unsettling or odd that might be, and tried to rake his brain for something to prove this ghost was an ally. What was it the monks said? “Bless the ears? Here to aid.”

Then a small spray of sparks flew with a light clang, a chip taken out of a metal link. Then another. Flyndt focusing one cleaving through with the small beskar blade he had, praying the others grab and hold the enemies’ attention.

Spectre on the field.

So fight?

Pull attention.

Affirmative.

Foxen lifted his pistol and, while Tekuani presumably pulled down the Wookiee, advanced out from their position. He strafed to the right, gaze flicking between tiny sprays of sparks flying from the chain from an invisible source, mostly blocked by the monk’s body, and the dangling mammal. With pistol raised in both hands, he fired off a salvo, three shots crACKing into the massive trees.

One bullet exploded into bark in a spray of wood chips and sap. Another hit the dangling Wookiee’s leg, tearing a roar of pain from her and causing her to lose her grip. As she fell, the final bullet went into her arm just as she hit the ground, blood and fur joining the carnage.

Though there were boulders that could be cover, he did not use them as he continued moving.

If anyone else was out here, they could aim for him. Not Flyndt.

Doon drew his Beskad, but held position near the front of the pack. He let out a low pitched whistle, calling Kathka’s attention. He pointed a claw up into the trees. Another rifle barrel was poking through the branches and leaves.

He took a breath, watching the others shift and fire at their own targets. Sometimes he wished he knew how to properly handle a gun. The Rancors tore a Wookie apart and moved.

Something was -

Doon’s eye widened. A flash of himself, choking on his own blood.

He jerked forward, raising his blade infront of him in slow motion. He saw it, the barbed head of an arrow silently piercing the air. His shoulders turned like he was fighting a dozen people trying to keep him still, the tip of the blade just barely rising to cover his chin as he twists. A flash of sparks erupt as the arrow tip meets his Beskad. It would have gone straight through his throat had he not reacted. Now, the broken shaft imbeds itself off to his right in the ground.

Time seemed to flow normally again.

With a snarl he shouted “There’s More! Get cover.” before promply dashing towards the cliff, hoping to close distance in the direction the arrow came from.

At Doon’s reactionary twist and deflection, Kathka quickly fired an arrow back to the projectile’s source. She heard the shot pierce flesh, but no body fell from the trees.

Kathka barked a command and slid off Goremonger, who quickly turned tail to dart away to safety. The beastmaster herself ducked toward the nearest tree and breathed deep, letting the sounds and scents inform her from her point of cover.

Vreva separated from the group and ducked behind some boulders. Though she wanted to get in close to the action, she would utilize the vantage point while she had it. She heard the Wookie’s cry from the tree when an arrow from Kathka pierced its leg. A brief moment to aim and the cycler rifle let off a sound like thunder. The Wookie fell from the tree with a clean shot through its chest.

The sound would have definitely caused alarm. She would need to adjust positioning again if she was found. Whispers at the back of her mind grew in cacophony with the thrill of battle. They seemed quite pleased.

Flyndt could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears as he took several all breaths, crouched low to the ground post escaping the Chillak’s hold.

Ba-bump, ba-bump–

It seemed to be growing louder, the sound distorting to something heavy and thumpier, then two trees crashed into the clearing, hitting the ground a mere couple meters away from him. His arms covering his head from any small bits of broken branches and bark flying from the impact. Movement paused for a moment, enough time for the Omwati to pivot slowly, his gaze coming to rest on the female Rancor in all her protective instincts taking up the injured wookie.

He dared not to move or breath as her mate came to render the foe in two, managing to keep himself from retching at the viscera. Nearly as soon as it has happened, they were gone.

Exhale.

The avain took a second to resettle himself before redirecting his attention to the others. The announcement of more being present and the sound of both bowstring twing and slugthrower bang sounded. Flyndt glanced around the perimeter of the clearing to try and narrow in on their locations.

When Doon started running toward the cliff from whence the arrow came, Savran followed suit. They managed to locate the assailant’s presence through the Force and raced over to their hidden position, using Force Speed to propel them faster than their legs would normally allow. To their displeasure, they found no sniper. Instead, they noticed a barely visible string running horizontally across the ground in front of them, and a spiked wooden box rigged to their left. Two armed zabraks stood across from them, ready to attack should they cross the trap. Instead, Savran released a Force-enhanced shout reminiscent of a Force Wraith’s wail, stunning the two assailants and forcing them backward.

Then, they turned to Doon, who would likely be arriving now. “Careful! There’s a trip wire directly in front of me. Jump over it if you must.”

Heavy thudding steps carried Doon Across the clearing quite fast. Faster than anything over seven and a half feet carrying heavy metal armor should be able to move. Faster than perhaps he should have been, for as he made his way to the cliff he heard a noise.

A soft, alarmed Hhwwo!?! as he felt something slam into him. Or.. him slam into something. It didn’t stop him, but he did falter in pace for a moment, looking over his shoulder to see a few feathers in the air, matching some that were now pinned to his mane of fur. He snarled, continuing on while filing that for later.

Upon reaching the wall, the wolf leapt and dug claws into stone, giving him purchase to leap in stages up towards Savran who was calling out warnings. He heard most of them, the traps were his main focus. With just enough energy, he made it to the ledge and pulled himself to his feet behind Savran.

There were a lot of them. But that was fine, he had his -

They left all their electrical equipment behind. No personal shield, no squad shield. Nothing.

His teeth bared, Doon readied a position and spoke “Behind me. Let them target me.”

Sagitta watched Doon and Savi run to a kriffin’ cliff. Her pink hues went to the other side. She could help them flank the enemies!

“I’m going to help them flank!” With that, she ran and started to climb up the cliff.

When she got to the top, she froze when she saw the five Shistavens and 2 Ewoks standing there. Weapons at the ready. Without thinking, she tried to climb back down but her hands and feet slipped. Sagitta fell onto her belly.

Her breath was taken away from her as she grimaced and coughed a few times.

‘Go go go go!’ Her mind screamed while she scrambled and military crawled her way towards the trees.

Two targets in the trees: eliminated.

Projectiles from cliffs. Assess. Locate enemy. Draw fire. Flyndt location: unknown.

Draw their fraking fire.

He advances step by step further into the open field, crossing through viscera/splatters on the grasses that are sole remnants of eaten Wookiee. Being in the open makes the battle instincts, which know to find cover, scream. But he ignores them, staying clear in sightlines from virtually any position in trees or on cliff.

The Doonvak and the Tekuani charge across the field at jediit speeds, blurring in the vision. Briefly, there is a puff of feathers. He wonders if he imagined it, searches for the shimmer-shiver of warping light, like the molten air in the desert over the ground, that would be Flyndt cloaked. Hopes. But his eyes are drawn to another target quickly.

The over-easy green imbecile yells of flanking and begins scaling the cliff far opposite the other pair. When she crests the top, there is motion like flailing and panic, and the sudden drop-catch-drop-retreat of some damn fool falling down a cliff more than anything else. He sees the Mirialan hit the ground face down, and then sees the seven soon to be targets that line up oh so very nicely to shoot down at her.

Like targets on a range.

Foxen takes aim, redirecting the pistol he’d been going to aim at the sky, afraid to hurt Flyndt if he fired down range. The distance and multitude of targets make it sloppy; handgun bullets drop in the air before they can crunch home in occipital orbits, their arcs dragging. But he can see even without scope as one Shistavanen spins like a ragdoll from a bullet meeting his arm, and the others flinch and point their weapons/attention his way.

Sub-mission success.

Vreva’s eyes widened as she saw the Mirialan fall. After a brief still moment she breathed a sigh of relief. Sagitta crawled away from her less-than-ideal landing.

Girl, you’re going to give me a heart attack, she thought as she looked at the top of the cliff where the Mando had fallen from. A Shistavanen poked their head over the lip. A weapon was in their hand to aim at Foxen in retaliation. A mistake.

Vreva leveled her rifle and squeezed the trigger. The slug tore through the Shista’s skull and pierced the one behind them in the meat of their arm. Howls of pain and fear met her ears.

Where is Tirga? She hummed low as she searched the cliff edge. She had a bullet with the leader’s name on it, if she showed her face. Though she wished to zoom ahead with the other two, her spot at the boulder was still pretty primo.

Groan.

For the second time today, Flyndt was finding himself rammed into and sent rolling on the ground. Instead of a face full of sand and rock chips, it was dirt and grass. Save for the slight lingering stings of contour feathers ripped out – the bits of fluffy down were way less noticable – he was fine, comparatively than when the Arqet had bulldozed him. Another goan, his breathing retired to normal, the Omwati rolled over onto his stomach and hefted himself back up into a crouch. His crimson feathers fell around his face hoovering above shoulder length now free from their tie.

His eyes narrowed at the black tail dangling as Dovak-Doon climbed the cliff, claws gripping into the ledge and pulled himself up. Flyndt shook his head with a huff, the now much fuller crest puffing slightly as he twisted to grab the kal dagger from the grass.

Then froze.

No longer did he feels the threads of the Force blanketing around him. He lost his obscuration.

Sagitta managed to get to a tree as Foxen and Vreva returned fire. “Thank you!” She shouted at Vreva before looking over to Foxen. Her hand rose as she puzzled for a minute. How did it go again? Her palm was flat and her fingertips touched her chin and slightly underneath her lower lip.

Then she extended it out. It was awkward and stiff but the motion of thank you was there.

Her pink hues widen in horror when she saw Flyndt. Quickly, she pointed to behind Foxen, “FLYNDT!” Hoping that he would react fast.

What is the soupy meringue yelling about, breaking her legs? Sanguine eyes briefly break from targets on the cliff as some other bullet drops one corpse, spying a– thank you?

But then the words resolve:

“FLYNDT!”

And the eyes clock over the field, and find home.

Right there. Visible. In the middle of the clearing with him, not 12 m away, completely uncovered. Flyndt is not even looking in the direction of the shooters yet.

He runs.

Flyndt’s head turns towards the sound of his name, then towards the barreling footsteps pounding towards him. Bowstrings twang far up on the cliffs. His boots slide the last 3 m across the grass and dirt to slow his momentum, arresting his larger body between the Omwati’s and the firing line. This time, he remembers not to duck/press close. Just braces, untouching, arms out.

A barb he knows is an arrow slams into the back of the right thigh, causing muscle to spasm, buckle. Another buries into shoulder, and he can feel it lodge in the bone, a scrape that reverberates through the marrow and locks the arm from nerve shock; the hand drops his pistol, and his knee hits the ground as a breathy grunt of pain escapes him. But even on his knees before Flyndt, he can still provide full cover. With the hand that isn’t attached to an arm currently malfunctioning, he signs, Ghost! Go!

Distantly, somewhere in his brain where it is not Mission or Set Status: Ignore for agony, he thinks, shitfrakingfrakmegoddammit, because the last 59 hours have evidenced how much of a fraking pain in the ass it is going to be to owe that thing, that jotaz-snuggling, ronto-kissing, arqet-defending, completely undisciplined in firearm training excuse for soupy key-lime in a burnt shell, that absolute disaster, be something he owes his entire world to from this moment until he expires.

Wow.

Just, wow.

Foxen?

Flyndt stared up at the massive shadow suddenly casted over him, his mind reeling to process the split seconds that had transpired. Sunset eyes locked on sanguine, and then a thud in the grass at his knee – the hybrid’s pistol. And when the man fell onto his own did the Omwati realized.

“Foxen!”

He surged upward to meet the half- Nautolan, a hand pressing into the wounded shoulder, fingers spread around the wooden shaft. A sucked in breath, wait, not an arrow. A crossbolt. The note from two days ago, was it only arrows? Of the leader? Suns, he did not remember!

Puhta!

He twisted to see the hand movement, ‘Ghost! Go!’

“No, no! Not without you, no! I have to–” Have to what? Heal him? He could try, but trying to rely on a skill the Omwati had failed to master yet? To cure poison possibly coursing deep into Foxen’s veins with ever second, every pump of his heart? They did not have an antidote– Flyndt shook his head hard. He hooked his arm up to his elbow under the man’s good shoulder and just barely was able to grab purchase on some loop on his armor’s waistline, and heaved – the Force answering his desperate plea and infusing his strength. “We have to…get…to the…trees! Foxen, please!”

Sagitta grimaced as Foxen ran to Flyndt. He does not act like that to others.

The others. Her hues glanced over them and it seemed like at first glance, no one was harmed from the first volley besides Foxen. Sagitta bit her lower lip as she got up and was prepared to run until-

The loud stomps were heard. “Stomps?” She glanced over at Stomps who was absolutely frackin’ chilling in the midst of all this chaos. She was munching on some rocks by her. But then another Rontos, in armor. “Oh, I gotta get that for Stomps…” Then a louder thump landed by her as she was startled and then smiled. “Happi!” She gave him some scritches quickly but then paused at seeing a bloody part of the body. “Er…. good… job. Happi. Yea. Good job.” She forced a smile to be reassuring but -

Her eyes shot up when she heard a roar and the Ewoks aimed right at her. Before she could get out of the way a big cat had pounced on one of them and sent the other flying. Her head followed the flying Ewok. Well. That works. “You be good.” She quickly said to Happi as she ran to Foxen and Flyndt. Easily dodging the oncoming attacks. “I’ll help, come on.” While Flyndt, a five foot and 2 inches was trying to help the brute of a seven-foot and one inch, her hands glowed as she went for one of Foxen’s wounds. If it was poisonous, at least she could slow it down until he gets the antidote.

Not without you!

That is a memory, from inside bacta tank, weighed down by shackles at legs/wrists/back of shock collar, the muzzle strapped over mouth/face, as per protocol since the first year. He bangs on the glass, signing simple words frantically.

RUN. GO.

Not without you.

And now, desperate:

“Foxen, please!”

Frak how is he supposed to resist that.

Besides, if it was reversed, nothing would make him leave.

The hybrid grunted, jarring pain warring through the body. He is ignoring it, trying to, but arrows are fraking cruel this way; the shafts stay, making awful pulling and stopping where they’re embedded. The shoulder arrow as not gone through, stopped by the bone its buried in, but the one in his leg burrows out the other side, barely, and he can feel it when he tries to move at all.

Ignore ignore ignore.

But Flyndt has asked, begged, so he pushes up on the other leg, trying to angle so he’s at least still on the side facing the enemy, his larger body shelter to most of the Omwati. He hissed in pain, but together they leverage up again, Flyndt showing off his supernatural strength.

Pressed this close to him, thinking of the way Flyndt flinched away from him earlier when the pipe exploded, he hears a crunch he knows isn’t real, but it makes him shiver violently anyway. Or perhaps that is a neurotoxin from the arrow. Perhaps both. He doesn’t know. Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him, please, spirals around his skull.

- They make it a few steps– and then the Mirialan is there, badgering her way in and saying she’ll help. A full-bodied hiss spits between his clenched teeth when she touches him, skin bare in places under his armor where the body glove currently isn’t. It takes everything he has not to bite her hand off.

But Flyndt is momentarily safe because of her, so he just bites through lips and cheek instead and refused to acknowledge how he flinches into Flyndt, turning his face down as if he could bury it in the Omwati’s free-falling feathers to hide.

He can’t, but he wants to.

The– Sagitta has only less 30 cm on him though, so the process speeds as they stumble and pitch for the trees, and he nearly collapses as soon as they’re in the shade of cover.

Calmly the Neti wandered to the center of the clearing. Once he reached a good visible spot, a mental directive together with a quick hand gesture pulled an Ewok from a nearby cliff.

As the little hairy being fell towards the hard ground below, a silver blade pierced the air as Ood ignited his trusty old saber. The attuned Solari crystal singing with a comforting light as the old Jedi began to draw more and more attention towards himself.

In an elegant series of movements, the blade began to intercept blaster bolts and redirecting them away from the Neti’s team.

Vreva ducked behind the rock and reached out through the Force to connect with that damned Tirga. She had to be there somewhere, but Vreva had not seen her since the battle began.

Whispers echoed in the back of her mind. Fast. Hide. Draw. Hide. A snap of a twig, but still nowhere to be seen. There, and gone again. She was concealing herself well.

I’ll get through all your underlings until you’re the one left, she thought as she drew her focus back to the heat of battle. She aimed her rifle once more at the Shistavanens, careful not to aim at Doon. At least his size made him easier to spot.

With a squeeze of the trigger, another boom sounded in the field. The slug tore through the Shista’s abdomen and left meat behind.

The thrill of the hunt envigorated her. As she watched the field, she saw how effortlessly the Neti became a moving force of destruction. Wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. The Poachers had little chance of making out of this alive. The fauna would be eating well.

The Zabrak paused to calculate her next steps. She would need to get on the cliff to find Tirga. No way was she going to find her at a distance.

Another jerk reaction from Doon comes a split second too late. He twists and Tries to deflect another arrow, but manages to only cause it to graze the gap in armor it was about to imbed itself in. It stung, and as Doon took a moment to view the field, he felt his heart Pounding in his ears. He turned to Savran, who was staring down two Zabrak. Would she be able to handle them?

She would have to.

Doon’s head turned, lagging in speed more than he’d like. The other shistavanens were close, and firing on his team. He heard shouting, Sagitta, flyndt, but not the words they spoke.

Doon lunged forward, closing the gap quite quickly between himself and the other Shistavanen. As he neared, a shot ripped through the closest one, dropping them like a sack of meat. So, he shifted to the next one. Despite the growing cramps he felt in his legs, he still moved quick enough to reach the target before they had much time to react. With a quick slash, Doon’s Beskad cleaved a torso in two horizontally. His face was a snarl set in stone, eyes empty and wild as he stared down the others.

With his arms raised following the slash, two wet *Thunk*s reached his ears as a pair of arrows embedded themselves in his side, middle of his rib age. He staggers for a moment, but turns his head to see a flash of dirty orange fur moving through the bushes accompanied by a shout. “Get the Tyrant! But let me finish him.”

Tigra shifted in the shadows, eyes focused on her prey now well poisoned and wounded. This was her favorite part.

When combat began, Savran dove into the fray without hesitation. Their battle fury in full swing, they combined their strategic mind with instincts honed over countless missions and battles over the years. After willing the Force to toss the second Zabrak off the cliff, causing him to fall and break his arm, Savran jumped down after them and engaged them both. But not before deftly evading arrows fired at them from Tirga, who was still lurking somewhere in the background.

They took a slash at the first Zabrak with their blade but he managed to evade just in time. And he would have landed a blow of his own in retaliation were it not for the timely arrow of Archian, to whom Savran nodded in a display of silent appreciation when the Zabrak fell to his knees before them. They were definitely going to take a chunk out of him before this was over.

Vreva leveled another shot at the remaining Shistavanen and caught it in the hip. Though not a killing shot, the crimson Zabrak rushed forward to get closer to the cliff. She heard a crossbow shot whistle through the air, though it had been aimed wide. The bolt shattered on the rock she had left.

She reached the tree unscathed and raised her rifle once more. Who would be the next target? The tree man had the Ewoks, the Shani had the Zabraks, Doon could finish the Shista…

Tirga… Where are you? She closed her eyes and searched the field once more, trusting her instincts. It would leave her open to attack, but she needed to find the leader.

Nothing. The voices laughed ominously at her futile attempt to wrangle the Force to her needs. Above the clamor in her skull rose the voice of her sister with a sneer. ‘You are a weapon to wield, not the wielder.’ Her blood boiled, heartbeat quick in her ears.

“Tirga, get the frak out here you she-akk!” she shouted above the cacophony of battle. “Let’s see who has the better shot. Unless you want to be the last body on the pile?” She loaded another slug into the chamber.

Knees nearly buckling from the mass he was trying to support, there was nearly an ounce of relief had when Foxen was set against the cover of the trees. But it was hard to be relaxed when time was ticking. Flyndt noticed Sagitta’s hands staying on the man. Mind flicking quickly, his gloves hand darted out and grabbed her wrist suddenly.

“Wait,” he panted, exertion from the Force and exhaustion catching up, his arm periodically quaking. But his expression was serious with the strong under tones of fear beneath. “The bolts, I gotta take them out, and then, then you can –immediately, quickly, I do not recall if all are poisoned or just leaders. Please.”

Without really waiting for her reply or affirmation, Flyndt turned his attention to the injuries. His gaze shifted from the embedded shaft in the shoulder to the one in the knee – eyes widening and feathers clamping low. Did that…did that go through the entire knee? His shock caused hesitation and hesitation had him choosing to waste previous time to glance up at Foxen’s face. It was then he noticed the smudge of blood from lip, the teeth biting into it. Without thinking, he retrieved his purple scarf and offered it all balled up to the man with shaking hands. “Bite…this?”

“Hoooo”, he exhaled after, steeling himself as much he could before gripping the crossbolt at shoulder with a hand bracing against the Nautolan hybrid. And pulled.

It popped free with a tear, the spikes head not keen on extracting without taking a small bit of meat with it. Flyndt swallowed down a bit of bile, paling at the sight of the bolt before chucking it aside.

“Now! His shoulder!” he told the Mirialan.

Another breath. .

The Omwati crouched and, with a disturbed and apologetic warble, pushed the shaft in the knee in deeper – just to expose the tip more. With a swipe of beskar, he cleaved it off and swiftly moved to pull the tipless bolt out the way it came. It dropped, and so did he upon his rear, panting. Sunset met sanguine eyes and his hands raising.

‘O.K? I am sorry, I am so sorry.’

There are hands on him he does not want.

But also, ones he does.

The mind goes sideways. The eyes meet sunset ones and drown a little in them, noting the pale, sick cast to the Omwati’s normally olive tone. He’s not sure if he’s seen Flyndt look ill like that since the pit.

The scarf is offered back to him, bundled up. They’re passing it around today, it seems. Bite it instead? Hell no. It’s your scarf, Flyndt, I’m not getting blood on it and I’m not putting holes in it! No.

Gonna hold on to it right now though. Still smells like you and the fabric’s nice. And this–

Gloved hands brace, yank. Arrow rips out of shoulder, jarring bone/marrow, ripping free a new piece of flesh/scar tissue. A bare hand, a stranger’s hand, replaces it.

It is: bad.

Flyndt makes one of his Bad Sounds. The head of a crossbolt pokes out his knee. The arrowhead falls a moment later, and then the shaft retracts, and blood spurts. Not with enough pressure to be coming from the femoral artery. Lucky.

Sunset. Shaking hands. He wants to take them and hold until they both stop shaking.

I’m so sorry, Flyndt says.

I’m not, Foxen replied, feeling blood soaking down his back under the suitless armor as he moves his wounded arm. Glad you not hurt. They’re not safe, not yet, not by goddamn leagues. Thankfully, he can shoot equally well with both hands, and he has a second pistol. They can set him up here and he’ll cover fire just like the Vreva–

Why is his skin itching wait what is Sagitta doing.

Sagitta tensed when Foxen reacted badly to her. By the stars. This man was scaring her every step of the way. Yet, she stood her ground. He was hurt. “I’m trying to-” She stopped when her wrist was suddenly grabbed, causing her to jump slightly. She thought it was Foxen’s at first but it was Flyndt. She frowned but then nodded. She wanted to console them both. It almost seemed like all she can do was wait.

The moment the bolts were removed, Sagitta healed quickly. She had never felt this focused before. When they were done, Sagitta beamed towards them. He was almost completely healed. They’re more like scratches now. Her hands remained. “Almost done! You’ll be good as-” She stopped. So did her healing.

‘Get the Tyrant! But let me finish him.’

Her eyes widen. That’s… not one of her team members’ voice… was it? She glanced over at Foxen and nodded with a friendly smile. “You should be okay. They’re scratches now!” She quickly ran towards the Cliff again. She saw Savi but she looked like she was holding herself very well. So the voice couldn’t be from them?

Exhausted, the Mirialan went for a climb again. She doesn’t see anything except - “Doon! What the-” No time! She pushed herself over the ledge. “Wait, hold on, let me heal you-” She approached his side and grimaced at the arrow. Well. “Okay, I’m going to have to pull this out.”

Kriffin damn it, why was it the big guys that can easily fling her across the cliff the ones that were getting hurt today. Her hand grasped at the shaft of the arrow. “On five. One, two-” She yanked it out on three and her hands started to glow.

Then it stopped. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

This one was different than the ones Foxen had. Why was she struggling with this injury?

What the frak is this.

The pain was gone. The wounds were closed. The star-shaped scar out the other side of his knee where Flyndt had needed to push, reddish pink and shiny new, was all that remained. In fact, he felt less exhausted than he had before getting two arrows in him.

He didn’t understand.

It had to be their Force. Healing happened. He knew that, he had seen it. Would have demanded it for Flyndt if that arqet had hurt him worse. But to experience it.

Static in the mind, two and two making a sum of five. It simply didn’t compute.

So he ignored it, and moved on. Turned enough to look out through the trees, observe where Sagitta ran to, assess the battlefield. Red eyes went back to Flyndt, pale and sat on his rear.

O.K.? he asked too, and then, I’m O.K. You helped me. Look. He demonstrated by testing his own range of motion, rolling the shoulder blade and flexing the arm, putting weight on the leg as he stood and jumped in place without falling. Then he offered the Omwati a hand.

Flyndt gave a warble, but took it, gloved palm a soft slide of leather in his. Once they were both standing, sunset eyes flickered around just like sanguine had.

“Hoo, hrm.” His crest raised and fell, his feathers loose in a beautiful curtain around him. “I…we should help? Finish this quickly. But. You really OK?”

Affirmative, O.K. Foxen replied, and gently passed the scarf back, carefully winding it back around the Omwati. His lips and cheek and tongue weren’t even shredded, thanks to the healing. Lacking a hair tie of any kind, the Nautolan took off his goggles and after a check for permission put them on Flyndt, pushing them up so that the eye piece and strap acted like a headband to hold feathers back. Advance on cliff, ghost and attack at top? Look for leader? I’ll kill the fodder. Not worth your time.