"Continuity notes:
- While certain planets/creatures from it may appear/be mentioned, the Sequel Trilogy never happens.
- Events from the Mandalorian series may/may not fit in depending on how the next season(s) go.
- This story takes place between A New Hope and the Empire Strikes Back."
The fires of the Galactic Civil War spread across the galaxy. Despite the loss of their superweapon, the Death Star, the Empire strikes back against the Rebels with a vengeance, determined to regain their rule over the galaxy.
Taking advantage of the growing conflict, criminals and bounty hunters seek to make a name for themselves, or hunt for long forgotten riches.
On the distant planet of Mahalos, the bounty hunter Zaram 'Zar' Atoll has hit a dead end in his quest, though little does he know that a mysterious client will help change that soon…
The stars shown overhead like so many countless jewels, further adding to the beauty of the city below. Ancient stone buildings made by the locals' ancestors countless years ago mingled with newer more modern additions, but all shared the same style, with runes carved along the entrances, windows, and rooftops. Torches shared spaces with electric lamps, ivy and plants covered various walls but were kept trimmed by the owners, and stone pools were dotted with flora, fauna, and the latest technological accessories. Yet none of it compared to the most beautiful sight of all…a full glass of Ruby Bliel delivered by an attractive female Pantoran in a revealing dress that bared her stomach and hugged her curves nicely.
"Here you go, Zar," said the Pantoran drily. "Keep this up and you'll have the biggest tab in the galaxy before long."
The Mandalorian bounty hunter didn't even move from his lazed slump in his chair. "Cruel as well as beautiful," Zar drawled. "Never change, love. You know we just paid it in full. We're not that broke, Kalia."
Despite herself, Kalia half smirked half smiled as she set it down on the table in front of him. "True enough. But just so you know, I haven't gotten or heard of any new jobs here on Mahalos. Are you sure you'll be alright?"
The opaque gaze of that red and white helmet shifted slightly away. "We'll manage. And if not…well, then you won't have to put up with our tabs anymore, not if the Hutts have anything to say about it. Take care, my dear."
Kalia smiled sadly, leaned over, lifted the helmet slightly and kissed him before she walked away, her long light purple hair swaying behind her. Zar hunched over his drink and fit the straw under his helmet before chugging it down. He hadn't lied; things weren't good at all job-wise, even in a galaxy that hadn't seen such action or big moves since the Clone Wars. The criminal gangs like the Hutts and countless others had started squeezing in on the major operations, and any scraps that were rarely left over, were snapped up by any lucky crooks or pirates that happened to be in the area. There were some jobs, such as slavery, which was always welcomed by the Empire, especially with Rebel prisoners. But Zar hated slavery and slavers almost as much as the Empire, as did his crew, so that was out of the question. Thankfully, they had that list of possible locations from their greedy and snide pilot…but their newest one was nigh impossible to get into…
"Excuse me, but are you Zaram Atoll? The Mandalorian of Scarif?"
Zar slowly turned to the speaker, hoping they'd get that he didn't appreciate being interrupted while enjoying his favorite drink. To his surprise, suspicion, and slight pleasure, the speaker was an attractive blue Twi'lek, who was dressed in clothes as good as Kalia's. The other bar patrons shot admiring and jealous looks at the pair of them. Zar wasn't sure he felt smug about that just yet.
"Call me, Zar," he answered. "Everyone does. What brings you to the most distant planet in the galaxy short of Batuu?"
The Twi'lek had a desperate pleading look in her eyes that would have melted every heart in that room…but a bad feeling pricked at the back of Zar's neck, and it was very rarely wrong. "Please Zar," she began in a trembling voice that almost sounded rehearsed. "I come from a village that's come under attack by foreign invaders; we have little resources or weapons that we can defend ourselves with, and even fewer warriors." She leaned over the table to look even closer into the eyes behind the visor. "We can pay you well, all you have to do is help us drive off the invaders. And don't worry, you won't be alone, we'll help you as best we can."
It was a solid performance, many of the other patrons were listening in on them…but Zar noticed the blaster she had hidden in her boot. And not any old shoddy blaster, it looked like the ones Imperial Officers loved using when intimidating or executing the Empire's subjects. "Try hiring Bossk or Boba Fett," grunted Zar as he finished his drink in one gulp, gathered his weapons, and got up to leave. "Bossk always did love a good suicide mission, and who knows, you may be the one to actually make the infamously grim Fett laugh."
His trap worked; the tearful façade slipped for the briefest moment, replaced with a suspiciously strong and furious look that didn't fit a helpless soul at all. But then the wide-eyed look returned as she walked after him, and she asked, "Sir, please, I've heard you're not only one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy, but one of the most well respected. You do every job no matter what unless you're betrayed—"
"I've heard Dengar is in the mood for work too. He needs the credits if he wants to keep blundering after Han Solo."
The Twi'lek got in front of him with what he was sure were fake tears in her eyes. She was a good actress, whoever she really was…but then something caught his eye in one of the windows.
"Zaram Atoll!" she pleaded, actually putting trembling hands on his chest armor. "I can pay you half now, and if need be, we'll even double the price we were going to pay you for—!"
Zar flung her out of the way as he whipped one of his long-barreled blaster pistols out of his coat. With unerring accuracy, he shot his target straight through the face, and he rushed towards it even as it fell. He quickly holstered his blaster even as he flung his Heavy Imperial Repeater off his back and unloaded half a clip into the dying target's head as it writhed around in the window's garden. When the dust cleared, he saw the target's head no longer sullied the galaxy, and he turned around to share the good news to the bar.
"No need to thank me!" he declared. "Just add it to my tally! One less snake cursing the fair planet of Mahalos!"
Some of the patrons looked pleased, others exasperated, and of course Kalia was a mix of both. But she put another scratch on the board above the bar, alongside the dozens of others. With luck, there would be hundreds there one day.
The Twi'lek looked dumbfounded. "Alright," she sighed, "I'll take your advice. After what I've seen, you wouldn't last a minute on Yuca anyway."
And then Zar knew he was screwed. Heaving a sigh to rival the Twi'lek's, he reluctantly said, "Come with me. We can talk more about the job on the way to the Shyyyo Talon."
The Twi'lek looked surprised, but satisfied as she followed him out into the city.
As he completed his call to his crew, Zar walked the familiar path towards his ship through the city with mixed feelings. He enjoyed having an attractive Twi'lek wrapped around his arm, but he knew she was up to no good. To make things even more complicated, she could turn out to be their only way into Yuca. Time would tell though if it turned out to be a one-way trip in. "They know we're coming," he told the Twi'lek, making sure not to include the rest of the call. "Remember, we have to go to the ship together, my crew do not take kindly to uninvited guests."
"Of course, Zaram Atoll," the Twi'lek murmured, stroking his arm. "But I think they'd make an exception for me."
Under his helmet, Zar rolled his eyes. If she only knew his crew. They finally left the city towards the hills just past the city entrance. Various ships were parked all over the place in walled or fenced off areas, but Zar's red, black, and white colored ship, the Shyyyo Talon, was parked atop a lone hill with no such barriers. The Twi'lek stared at it with genuine admiration. "I've seen Mandalorian ships before," she told him, "but that looks slightly different than the others."
Zar's voice was tinged with slight pride despite himself. "It's a variation of the standard Kom'rk class fighter, this one has heavier firepower and can take more of a beating, along with more space for us. Trust me, if the enemy hadn't killed us, we would have killed each other long ago."
As they reached the foot of the hill, a reptile darted through the grass. "Wait here," Zar told her, "promised Ru I'd get him dinner if I saw it."
Before he even got a few feet away as he blasted Ru's dinner, the Twi'lek walked towards the ship, and replied, "I'll meet you there."
He whipped around. "You idiot! Get back here before—!"
A heavy laser bolt blew a small crater in front of her and she fell back screaming like a mynock. To her credit, her blaster was already in her hand, with the mask of the innocent Twi'lek nowhere to be found. "Show yourself, coward!" she snarled. "Or you'll soon learn I'm not some helpless spice club dancer!"
A Besalisk stalked out from his position on top of the ship, two long and heavy guns in his top set of hands, the controls in his lower ones, and with a threatening snarl that would have had most of the people in the galaxy running for the hills. But then he saw Zar running towards them, waving his hands, and a look of immense smugness on his intimidating face. "You can't help yourself, Zar," he chuckled. "Should have known the client was a Twi'lek."
Zar sighed and went back to pick up the fried lizard. "Ma'am," he said as he returned, "this is our heavy infantry, Dendro Argus. Short of a squad of Death Troopers, I haven't seen anyone stupid enough to try their luck with this Besalisk."
Dendro leapt from the top of the ship and landed with ease. Zar could have sworn the planet shook from the impact. "My apologies, ma'am," he grunted, smoothing out his dark green tunic. "But as heavy infantry and sentry, I cannot permit anyone within a certain distance of the Shyyyo Talon without a Talon escort. It's a good thing we're on Mahalos; here I try to avoid shooting someone we know by mistake and usually use warning shots first, otherwise you would have been sent flying back to the city with a hole in your—"
The Twi'lek stomped up to him and yanked him down by the collar. "Try that again," she hissed, "and I'll do to you what your Mandalorian friend did to that snake in the bar."
Dendro looked exasperated more than anything else. "What, again?" he sighed as he casually pried her hands off. "How much ammo did you waste this time, Zar?"
"Half a clip and a blaster bolt," Zar replied as he put a comforting arm around the Twi'lek, and guided her up the ship ramp.
It did not escape his notice that the Twi'lek's gaze was roving around the ship as if already formulating escape routes. Another bad sign, but they didn't really have much of a choice. He led her through a set of double doors in the entry chamber and they arrived in the cargo bay. A blue Karkarodon almost as big as Dendro was making sure all of their supplies were fastened down as they approached, supervised by a black, red, and silver RA-7 protocol droid.
"Well done," the droid snarked. Even if he couldn't actually show emotion like an organic being, Zar knew that condescension would be pouring out of his insect-like eyes like slime off a Hutt right now. "You managed to get everything stacked and organized with only 13 corrections from me. Maybe one day you'll get it down to 12."
The Karkarodon ignored him and turned to greet their guest. He bowed low and replied in a voice as deep as his homeworld's oceans, "Greetings, my lady. I am Tor Nitros, and this efficient, if cantankerous, droid is SN-16. Provided our leader agrees to your terms, we will do all we can to complete the mission to the best of our abilities."
The Twi'lek looked taken aback, but pleased, and she bowed back. "My thanks, Tor Nitros. I am sure you will."
Tor directed them to a small turbolift and Zar took her inside as Tor turned back to SN for some more abuse, reluctantly joined by Dendro. In no time at all they arrived in the Talon's recreation room, which much to Zar's ire, was still clustered with open supply crates on the floor, and their messy pilot still hadn't gotten his wet cloaks off the lamps hanging from the ceiling. "Ru?" called Zar as they stepped out into the area. "Have you seen Bariq anywhere? We need to talk about the job."
"I don't think anyone's in here," the Twi'lek informed him as she made her way to the holotable in the center of the room, and took a seat. "If it's not too much trouble, I'm just going to sit here while we wait for him."
"I don't think you'll be waiting for long."
The Twi'lek looked confused. "What makes you say that?"
A blade suddenly appeared at her throat and she froze with panic and bewilderment fighting for control of her face. "Oh, cut that out you rancid Rancor," snapped Zar. "That's our client, so stop pretending to be a mynock and get down here."
The green-grey Drabatan lifted the blade away and dropped off the lamp to the floor with the deadly grace and agility of a Nexu. The Twi'lek scrambled out of her chair, hurriedly drew her pistol again, and fixed her aim on him with shaking hands. The amphibian glared at her through his narrow eyes, unimpressed (at least Zar assumed, as he usually looked like that anyway) and flourished his kukri with such skill it'd make a Jedi Master envious. "If you cared to notice, Ru," grumbled Zar, and wagged the dead lizard in his hand, "I got you dinner."
He hurled it at him and without missing a beat, Ru pierced it on the tip of his blade, and then immediately put it into his gaping maw and started chomping on it like a starving Wampa. The Twi'lek stared at all of this with an appalled look on her fine azure features. "Forgive him," grunted Zar. "He cares not what he does, only that he goes to sleep with a full stomach."
The Twi'lek still stared at him, her voice obviously hadn't returned to her yet. "So Ru," Zar continued, as Ru swallowed his meal in one gulp. "Where's Bariq?"
Ru didn't even say a word; he just walked over to a supply crate with the lid half on/off, and kicked it over. Whereas the Drabatan was a canvas of deadly skill, the Jawa that tumbled out was a scrawl of laziness and filth. "Bariq, you filthy Anooba!" roared Zar, as the Jawa hastily scrambled to his feet. "You were supposed to save those until the next job!"
Bariq flung back a wave of excuses and insults in Jawaese, making frantic hand gestures and pointing several times at Ru, who was picking his teeth with the kukri, while the Twi'lek just stared at all of this in blank confusion. Zar was sure the Jawa would have babbled on all night if he hadn't noticed the Twi'lek. "Who's the lovely Twi'lek?" Bariq asked. "No way a beautiful lady like her would pick a group like us."
"Nor would she have an officer's blaster pistol," Zar replied in Jawaese as well, hoping the client didn't speak it. "But you're going to have to put up with it anyway," Zar continued in Basic. "Ru, get the others up here. If we accept the job, we're off to Yuca."
The crew gathered around the holotable and stared at the Twi'lek with various expressions: Dendro with amusement, Tor with polite interest which clashed hugely with his frightening face, Ru with a surly look that Zar was certain that was the default expression of his entire species, Bariq with mistrust, and Zar was sure that SN-16 would have been staring at her with utter contempt. The Twi'lek stared back at them all, trying her best to remain neutral. "As I told your leader, Zar," she began.
"He's not the leader!" Bariq interrupted, crossing his arms in indignation.
The Twi'lek hesitated and replied, "I'm sorry, but I don't speak Jawaese. What did he say?"
"He said that Zar is not our leader," Tor answered. "Which is indeed the case, although on the battlefield, he usually takes charge."
"Then who is the leader?"
Zar and the others all slowly turned their heads towards Bariq, who nodded self-importantly. The Twi'lek's jaw dropped and she looked appalled. "You're not serious? The Jawa is the leader of the Shyyyo Talon?"
Zar shrugged. "Due to a series of circumstances, he calls the shots around here, but like Tor said, he's all too happy to let me take the lead when there's a fight."
The Twi'lek turned so pale it almost looked like she was made of water and buried her beautiful face in her hands. "Please promise me you won't let him lead when we fight off the invaders," she groaned.
"I'm tempted to break my anti-slavery stance and sell her to that fat slug," Bariq growled, resentment in his yellow eyes. "I hear he needs a new dancer and we can't do much better than her."
"She's our only chance of getting into Yuca," Zar chided him in Jawaese, and then in Basic, "Don't worry, he'll be on the Talon unless we really need him, and even then, he's usually right behind me when blaster bolts start flying."
The Twi'lek raised her face, which looked so much better full of color again and relieved. "Thank the Force," she sighed. "As I was saying, offworld invaders have been attacking the villages on Yuca, and we need more support. I heard from multiple sources that all of you were the best bounty hunters on this side of the galaxy."
"Then they were either drunk," snorted SN, "spice addled, or suffering a severe case of space madness. I've been with these organics for quite some time and I can vouch that Stormtroopers and even the Rebel Alliance—" Zar noticed her hand twitched at this. "—are more competent and organized than these brigands."
"Does that include you, bug eyes?" asked Dendro innocently.
"Of course not. I'm the main reason you haven't blindly swerved off into the sun by now."
"SHUT UP!" screamed the Twi'lek, and then she took several deep calming breaths. "My people are dying, you're the best bounty hunters available, or at least the only reliable ones that can help us before we're all wiped out. We can pay you 50,000 credits if you take and complete the job. Do you accept?"
They all looked at Bariq, who sighed, resignedly shrugged his shoulders, and nodded. "We're ready to go if you are," Zar told her.
The Twi'lek looked relieved. "I am. We just have to get some more supply crates for the villagers and we can head straight to Yuca."
Bariq got up and shuffled off to the cockpit. Hopefully, Zar thought to himself, the Twi'lek believed he was only getting the ship ready for takeoff.
"Please tell me you treat all of your clients this well?" the Twi'lek asked as she tried to get the most comfortable position on her rickety chair, the white blue light of hyperspace outside the cockpit window flickering across her face.
The rest of the crew didn't seem too bothered; whereas the client's chair was bottom of the barrel, the other seats were customized for each crew member. "Not at all," guffawed Dendro, as he took a bite out of raw meat. "Some end up blown all the way back to Coruscant thanks to my guns."
The Twi'lek looked disgusted as bits of meat flew in all directions. "Do you have to do that here?"
Dendro brandished it at her like a lightsaber. "Of course!" he boomed through a full mouth. "This stuff will turn you into a Rancor chomping Gorog. And if you're really lucky," he grinned with three of his hands on his chest, "it'll turn you into a tall, dashing Besalisk. Just like me."
"I should have gone to Mon Cala," the Twi'lek muttered to herself.
Zar glanced at Tor, who nodded, and began to type on a datapad. "Preparing to drop out of hyperspace," Bariq informed them. "Let's see if this tailhead either brought us to a big score or a fiery death."
And with that, the white blue stream turned into the black oblivion of space, and Yuca came into view…surrounded by a fleet of Star Destroyers, light cruisers, Gonzanti cruisers, space stations, and an endless swarm of TIE Fighters.
Zar and everyone else turned to the Twi'lek, who stared resolutely back at them. "Offworld invaders you said?" Ru growled in his native Drabatese. "Funny way of saying Imperials."
"It's not Imperials," said the Twi'lek. "Pirates and other criminals from offworld have been bribing the Imperials to turn a blind eye to their ransacking of the villages."
It took everything Zar had to not snort like a Gamorrean. Either she believed their greed would let them play along with her lies for the promise of payment, or she actually believed they were that stupid. A button started blinking on the control panel and Bariq flicked it on. "Mandalorian vessel," said a clipped voice. "Identify yourselves immediately."
"This is the Crimson Blurrg," the Twi'lek replied for them. "We're carrying supplies to several Yucari villages from Ryloth, identification code MRO-20191216."
There was a pause, and then, "Proceed to Outpost 7. Deviate from your course and you will be shot down. That is all."
Bariq turned the comm off and they flew to the space station in silence. The Twi'lek looked almost as tense as she was in their meeting from before. "If this doesn't work," Bariq suggested as they approached the hangar, "let's give the Imps the tailhead. What Imp doesn't like a beautiful tailhead?"
They landed with a thud and they all went to the cargo bay. Zar's hand hovered over his blaster just in case, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his cohorts and client were doing the same. A Stormtrooper walked through the open double doors and rested his gaze on them. He gave a start. "Uh," he began, "are you Zaram Atoll?"
Zar nodded. "I hired some bounty hunters to protect the supplies from pirates," said the Twi'lek in her most charming voice, and she put on a meek yet still attractive face on. "I'm sorry I forgot to mention that over the comm, I hope it's no trouble."
The Stormtrooper looked around at the others, taking in each one of them. Thankfully, they didn't try and start anything, though Zar knew SN must have already blown a fuse trying not to insult the Imp. "I just have to make a call," the Stormtrooper said hastily. Zar's hand inched closer to his blaster, but stopped when the trooper spoke into his comm, "Lieutenant Brogan, those bounty hunters you told me about are here. What should I do?"
The Twi'lek started to close her hand around the blaster now hidden in her pocket, but Zar motioned her to stop. She looked incredulous, but thankfully she stopped. After a voice buzzed on the comm, the trooper nodded, and told them, "The lieutenant will be here shortly."
True to his word, barely a few minutes passed before the red haired lieutenant stalked onto the ship. "Leave us!" barked the officer, and the Stormtrooper walked off. The Imp glared moodily at Zar and said, "Zaram Atoll. What the hell are you doing trying to get onto this backwater cesspool?"
"Vullex Brogan," greeted Zar. "Good to see you too. And a lieutenant now too. I see the incident with the Senator, Quarren, and the turbolift didn't damage your career at all."
Vullex Brogan clenched his fists. Thankfully the ambitious Imperial hadn't changed much. He still had the too clean and polished uniform, shiny red hair, and an angular face that looked like a blob of wax beaten with an electrohammer. "You know this Imp?!" the Twi'lek interrupted.
Dendro guffawed and actually put an arm over her shoulders. "My lady, this is our dear friend Vullex Brogan. We met him when he was still a recruit. He's ambitious, but he keeps getting into trouble, so he constantly comes to us whenever he needs help from people he can trust to keep quiet."
"Like with the case of the Blue Milk and the Kowakian monkey-lizard," SN added, and Zar could actually hear some happiness in the droid's voice, albeit a very smug type.
Brogan actually winced. "Please stop bringing that one up," he pleaded, much to the Twi'lek's visible disappointment.
"What did you do to get dumped off out in the middle of nowhere?" asked Zar. "Did some of that blue milk get onto Palpatine's favorite pair of shoes?"
"I was recently assigned here at my own request," snapped Brogan. "Now shut up for once in your life. What do you want? If you're here to rob Imperial treasuries, then I'm afraid I can't turn a blind eye this time—"
"We don't rob treasuries," Tor said stiffly. "We're simply here to help our client and her village."
Brogan looked relieved. "Fine. Just do me a favor; if you cause any trouble, please do it in the southern hemisphere? That's Moff Locus's sector and I would love to see that blowhard try and explain himself to Lord Vader or the Emperor."
Zar gave a mock salute. Brogan gave a smile that looked more like a grimace and walked off. A fair trade all things considered.
"You didn't tell me you knew any Imperials," the Twi'lek accused them as they flew towards the surface.
"You haven't even told us your name," yawned Dendro as he sprawled back in his chair.
"My name is Nailah," the Twi'lek replied irritably. "You never asked; after all, I thought bounty hunters don't ask questions."
"Only the stupid ones," grunted Ru, as he flicked some imaginary dust off his blue combat shirt.
For once, Zar almost appreciated how annoying his team could be when they wanted. It served as a good distraction. He got a message from Tor on his helmet's visor. "Checked Mon Cala," it said. "No official major criminal activities or operations have been reported, but there has been a massive increase in civil unrest and riots."
Time for one more test. "So where are we landing?" Zar asked. "I hope your village has a decent landing pad, one without Imperials crawling all over it."
Nailah hesitated. "We'll have to land at Orino Village, they're friends of mine. Then we'll take a speeder to where we need to go…"
That was the cue for Tor. "Lady Nailah," Tor began with as much charm as his appearance could muster. "You've been very vague on details with us so far. You're not working for any criminal syndicates, are you? We're not typical bounty hunters; we don't want to go through all of this just to find out we've been smuggling spice or slaves for the Hutts."
"Of course not," said Nailah, and Zar felt she was sincere. "I'm sorry for all of this Tor, but my village is a sacred place, and they usually don't allow outsiders…"
Zar didn't need to hear anymore. He doubted she was working with crooks or slavers, she wasn't working with the Empire, and she was being too dodgy for such a simple local mission, so that left one option that made any sense: the Rebels. Which in this case, was even worse for them. "Alright people," he said. "Enough pestering the client, otherwise those 50,000 credits will fly away like a Shyyyo Bird."
As he said it, he sent the instructions to one of Bariq's small screens on the control panel, who nodded and punched in the coordinates for Orino Village on another set of buttons. "Thank you, Zar," smiled Nailah. "Keep this up and I'll throw in an extra—"
Her chair shot down into the floor, taking her with it, and then the floor sealed shut. A moment later they felt the vibrations of the pod getting shot off in the direction of the village. "If this doesn't work out," Dendro grunted, "we just wasted 50,000 credits on this trip."
Zar shrugged. "Better than joining the Rebels on a suicide mission."
They landed in a clearing in the jungle sometime later. Zar sadly put his coat away, but he knew that it'd get torn to shreds or get so much debris out in this jungle. He took a quick look in the mirror; he still looked fine, his white and red armor was in prime shape, as was his gray suit underneath, the small gun on his helmet's antenna was fully loaded, and he looked very intimidating with his twin pistols and rifle. He nodded and walked out of his room.
As he entered the cargo bay, he checked on his comrades. Dendro grumbled as he put thick light brown armor over his green tunic, and then he checked his boots and guns. Tor calmly adjusted his belts and pouches full of extra explosives and ammo on his dark grey outfit with occasional gold stripes. Ru looked like his usual cheerful self as he put a black combat vest over his dark blue shirt, slipped his kukri and blaster onto his blue pants belt, strapped some metal gauntlets onto his hands, and fixed what looked like a long metal pole through a holster on his back. Bariq merely threw on a bandolier given to him by one of his Wookiee friends and brandished his custom ion blaster.
"My favorite part of the day," SN commented drily as he looked at a datapad. "I get to monitor the ship while you go on another wild mynock chase through an alien jungle filled with all sorts of painful death. Thank the Maker that I got such an easy job."
"Echuta," snapped Bariq as he hustled off to the exit.
"Don't fly off without us," Zar warned the droid.
"Nobody trusts a droid these days," complained SN as they all walked out of the ship.
Immediately, they were bombarded with a tsunami of sounds, smells, and overwhelming heat. The only other two planets they had visited that had jungles like this were Felucia and Kashyyyk. Yet for some reason, Zar felt a hidden menace subtly emanating from somewhere here that he hadn't felt on those two planets…what it could be, he had no idea.
"Alright," Dendro spoke up. "Now that we're finally here, bring it out and work your magic, Bariq."
Bariq nodded and pulled what looked like a round purple Jedi holocron with a set of rings inside of it. He twisted and turned a pair of golden lids on the top and bottom of the device, and the rings immediately stared spinning in a northeast direction. "I cannot believe we're betting our lives again on one of that old fossil's trinkets," muttered Ru.
"So far Bariq's skill has paid off every time we've used these devices," Tor pointed out. "You should have more faith in him and the Great Tide."
Ru grumbled and irritably punted a passing frog-like creature over the treetops. But Bariq paid him no attention and started walking off towards the jungle. One by one, Ru being the last, the group followed the Jawa into the great unknown.