Private A New Partner

[Kikker]

Months Ago

Kikker and his partner were chasing the two spicerunners throughout the Coruscant streets, doding landspeeders, wheeled droids, passerby and meer rats running underfoot. These were the last of the Mintel Spice Syndicate that Kikker had spent the better part of a year pursuing. They were known to be ruthless, vindictive and unnecessarily violent in their dealings with people.

But right now, all Kikker could think was how damn fast they were.

Finally, as they reached an abandoned warehouse districts on one of the lower levels, the two spicerunners ducked into an old, decreptid garage. Kikker and his partner, a young, eager-to-please Trandoshan - stopped short at the entrance. Why command had partnered the two of them up, Kikker would never be able to guess. Humans never could tell amphibious types and reptiliian types apart so maybe someone higher up thought the two of them were the same species. They certainly weren't of the same temperament - the kid's happy-go-luckiness really got under Kikker's skin. Plus, he kept ratting him out for drinking on duty. What kind of a partner did that?!?

"Why'd we stop? They went in there. Didn't you see them?" the Trandoshan rookie asked Kikker. If Kikker's amphibious eyes could roll, they would have. Did the kid think he was blind?

"Yeah I saw them. And I'm thinking they don't duck into a building that's a dead end without a reason. I say we wait and call in backup. Get them to send a droid in." Kikker said. The Trandoshan scoffed.

"I think you're giving them too much credit. I'm going in." the rookie said. Kikker tried to stop him but the Trandoshan went in, guns blazing. The resulting explosion from the tripmine vaporized the Trandoshan and sent Kikker flying back to slam into a nearby signpost. Crumpling up, Kikker moaned. This was going to be so much paperwork.

------------------
Present Day

So, here Kikker sat at Sector Ranger headquarters, tapping his fingers on the desk of the conference room. His days at the Drug Enforcement Division were behind him, apparently. The death of his partner had shaken him to the point of asking for a transfer. The beleaguered Counter-Terrorism Division were only too happy to oblige. After completing the necessary training, Kikker now sat in the debriefing room, waiting to get the run-down on his first assignment and to meet his new partner.

What'd they say his name was, again? Pad? Dad? Something like that...



Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Current Outfit

Spoiler: Music OOC

Months Ago

Smoke. It billows from an explosion. It’s the beautiful ugly result of fire. It’s also what arose from a cigarette that very moment as a man stepped into an office. He had been beckoned. Summoned. Wasn’t much of a difference to be honest but, heh, he reckoned there was.

Last time he’d been beckoned into his boss’ office was to get told off. He had done a bad job, he said. He was wrong, he said. That was then. Do. Done. Did. He got back on track and slapped the stuncuffs on the hands who gave him smack and gave them a slap. Do it. It’s done. He did it. Like nobody’s damn business.

This time, he had been summoned. Here is the difference.

“Sit down and shut the kriff up,” a man said from his desk. “And how many kriffing times do I have to tell you NO. KRIFFING. SMOKING. IN. MY. KRIFFING. KARKING. OFFICE.”

“Sorry…” The other man breathed easy. Snuffed the cig out on the desk ashtray. Suppressed a wink. Smoke dissipated. He gave his boss his gaze. “You wanted to see me?”

“I never want to see you, shitchit. But here you are so I’ll make this quick. Hand over your Sector Ranger badge and your blaster.” Boss looked cross. “You’re fired.”

Do. Done. Did.

Except the Rangers ever needed a shitkicker of his caliber. Even if they'd never admit it.

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

Present Day

Sector Ranger headquarters. It’s like he was just here yesterday. Months ago, maybe. The older he got, the more often he lost track of what the hell was going on, what day it was and what age he was. Shit happens.

His days of working within Division Inspection Criminal Killer whatever the mother kriffer were done. He was still a Sector Ranger, still an ass kicker, still a pain in the ass but he didn’t really give a damn. He wasn’t edgy. A bit sketchy maybe. Truthfully, he just did his thing. It got done. Someone had to do it. Only it wasn’t like he didn’t get punished for how he did it.

Partner up, they said. He needed another person to watch his back and keep him in check, they said. So there he was, cigarette ‘tween his teeth, opening the door to another office—no, it’s a conference room, but same shit different day to be honest.

He entered in a leather jacket, off black or sommat such it, dusted and crusted, couple rivets rusted, but kriff it. There were a number of chairs all facing the same way. All of them were empty except for an amphibian face.

“Hey,” one Ranger said to the other. Smoke drifted from his lips toward the ceiling, became nothing, like his own old bones would one day be. “Zad,” Zad said. The creases in his countenance deepened when he squinted. “Zad Ruzed.” Gestured toward the empty seat beside the other feller. "Mind if I sit?"

Kikker

 

[Kikker]

Kikker just responded by pointing to the nametag on the Rybet's uniform. He didn't want to be overly friendly with this guy, not quite yet. He didn't know the sum of him yet. Was he an by-the-book stiff? An overly enthusiastic rook? Even more corrupt than the fun guys? It was anyone's guess although Kikker's fear of Zad being a stick-in-the-mud was softened a bit by the fact that Zad was currently smoking a cig in the office, a clear rules violation. That was a good sign. Looks like he might not have to hide his flask from his new partner after all.

As Zad and Kikker got comfortable seated, an aging Culisetto major entered the room, accompanied by two droids. The doors slid shut behind him - the meeting evidently was at capacity.

"You both know me already." Major Cowheez said brusquely. "And you both know I like to keep these briefings short and to the point. Dego Vebb."

At the mention of the man's name, the holoscreen in the briefing room flashed an image of a scarred Nautolan with a taunting smile plastered onto his face. To Kikker, he was unfamiliar.

"This fella is one of the biggest arms dealers we know. We're not talking selling a half dozen pistols to some mods on Nar Shaaddaa or hijacking a crate of detonators. Dego Vebb only sells wholesale and you have to be a big, bad galactic player for him to even consider doing business with you. We know the usual suspects are some of his customers; the Sith, the Hutts, the First Order et cetera. But what we don't know is the full scale of his operations. We have a source confirm that Vebb always keeps a datapad on him containing a list of his clients, along with their purchase history and contact info."

"That's where you two boys come in. Vebb keeps a pretty squeaky clean public image but, fortunately, the boys in the fraud division have been keeping a close watch on him for some time. We have some tax charges and steerage avoidance we can charge him with. He normally conducts most of his business from his space yacht over Scipio. We want you two to go in, make the arrest, and make sure he doesn't destroy the datapad when you nab him. From the sounds of things, he's got a couple squad's worth of security goons on the yacht, so we're supplying you with these two droids if you need a little extra firepower. But stun blasts only if you can. We're not trying to create an interplanetary incident here."

"Any questions?"

OOC: Feel free to add any more details or use Cowheez as your own NPC. Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC (Recurring)

As Zad got comfortably seated, an insect-something-or-other entered but he couldn’t remember whether he had already met the guy. Not to be rude, but all Culisetto really do look alike. But he wasn’t really racist against their kind. Wasn’t racist or specieist or whateverist against anything really. His prejudice just went to the extent of discrimination only against his enemies in the sense that they either ended up sent to prison or dead. Sometimes there wasn’t much of a difference in the end.

While Cow rang a bell around the neck, well, Dego Vebb shook the web within the Ranger’s head. Vebb. Where had he heard that name before? Smoke dissipated toward the door as Major Cowheez gave his speech, albeit pausing in between sentences to indicate to one humble Ranger the ‘No Smoking’ sign. Fine… There goes the cigarette. Zad chewed on ‘Vebb’ instead.

“Yeah.” Zad had a question. “Can we ditch the metalheads?” All right, he’d admit it, he had a bit of a droidist condition to his personality, but he also had history so felt like he had a position.

“Sorry. When I said if you need them I meant you need them.” Cow didn’t say the rest but Zad had a feeling it was to keep him protected in the event he got too happy with the trigger as his record might suggest. “They’ll add to your Sector Ranger presence.”

“I just meant—”

“Any other questions?”

“Nope.”

“Then go get ‘em and good luck, gentlemen.” Major Cow made his exit with a sip of what looked like liquid spinach but was probably blood.

“Aight den,” Zad said as he got up. “Let’s kick some ass, Kikker.” Though hopefully his fellow Ranger wouldn’t slow him down. “Keep up, ya dumb clankers.” He shook his head and headed out.

‘Stun blasts only.’ He remembered. ‘If you can.’ Zad would remember that.

Kikker

 

[Kikker]

The Rybet sighed as the inevitable "Kikker kick ass joke" reared its ugly head. Every partner he'd ever been with had made that joke at some point but this was the quickest it had popped up. Wonderful

After, they left the briefing room, Kikker following Zad. As they headed towards their ship, Kikker muttered to himself, "Hope this partnership doesn't end with another explosion."

It wasn't loud enough for the Human to hear but the last explosive memory was on Kikker's mind, even as he strapped in the two battle droids and shut them down. And it was still on his mind as he strapped himself in on Zad's ship and the Human pilot took off. The fact that he couldn't shake it, as he was inspecting his weapons and taking inventory of his gear meant that he should probably address it in therapy.

Of course, that required a certain amount of self-reflection and credits that Kikker didn't quite have at the moment so, instead, he decided to get the measure of his new partner to make sure no cowboy shenanigans were likely to ensue on this particular mission. Or if they were going to, at least Kikker would be ready.

"In the interest of making this journey through hypserspace pass a bit quicker, figure we might as well get the pleasantries out of the way. What brought you to be a shining beacon of justice, pal? For me, I was Tatooine police and couldn't stand the way that desert made my skin dry out. Amphibious physiology, you see."

Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

Inside the Iron Justice the old ranger wondered whether this partnership would end with another one of his partners dead. Oh, sure, this wasn’t the first time upper brass had pinned him as a problem and pegged him with a partner plucked like a plum after he plugged some punk and got plunged into a predicament because of his dumb shit. But he wasn’t a dumbshit. Zad Ruzed was just a no-nonsense, don’t-gimme-chit, please-hold-still-you’re-getting-arrested, hoo-wee-oopsy-you-dead kinda law enforcement officer.

In the cockpit of his courier, music came from the console. He hoped his partner didn’t mind it but, nah, didn’t really give a damn one way or the other. He had other selections. This was his first pick. Who knew what was next on the list of random selection? Shit. Am I accidentally quoting evolution? Science was never really his business, never mind natural selection; except the science of violence, especially when it came to weapons. Hey. He digs it.

That was something at least. It was nice to see that Kikker treated his weapons as if they were extensions given his inspections of them. Taking inventory offered a bit of introspection with or without a mission. Zad Ruzed tended to hold that more as his religion than an opinion.

Shining beacon of justice. He chuckled, an unlit cigarette between his teeth, eyes between viewscreen and viewport before his gaze shifted to the Rybet’s pretty green face. “I see.” The amphibian's skin was indeed as hard to miss as that Culisetto’s nose. “Arvala-7. Born and raised. Just another desert anyway.” Another boring story.

“I’ve seen enough crime in my life to want to be the very best crime fighter I can ever be in this great golden galaxy.” He lied between his teeth like that cig he never lit. “Kidding. About the heroic justice shit. I was shoved into this dirty business, servin’ justice to scum however it comes, by badge or gun, and here I am.” He tapped the big pistol on his hip at that and shrugged. “Do. Done Did.”

Kikker

 

[Kikker]

Kikker scowled as the music started playing throughout Zad's ship. The Rybet always held onto the precious tradition of "the driver decides the music" but sparkle-bop? Really? DId this Human actually enjoy the music or was he just trying to torture his new partner? Maybe he just figured it'd be the least offensive thing to play on his playlist to a newcomer. Kikker hoped it was that. Otherwise, he might have to request a transfer if this was actually his new partner's favorite.

"Shoved into it how? I just liked the sound of the signing bonus." Kikker asked. As he did, he looked up at the ship monitor and saw that the two of them (well, four if you counted the droids) would soon be exiting hyperspace.

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

Whatever his companion’s silent reservations about the music resonating in his ship and permeating in the cockpit, Zad had no hesitation with his admiration of it and every intention of enjoying the noise. He showed this by bopping his head just a bit to the seven-thrum pluck instrument. Only there just wasn’t enough drum so the music shifted on that note.

“How’s this?” He didn’t wait for an answer to his question but it could come at any second as he addressed the other question given to him by the Rybet Ranger. “Town I’m from had its fair share of scum. Didn’t know Daddy. Mama got lost. I was left to fend with the rest of them when I killed my first guy in self-defense. Picked up the badge next. Found law enforcement. From Sheriff to Ranger." He shrugged the memories off. He wasn’t deliberately being cryptic. The past was simply gone. Zad became a man and that was that. That went for both men. “That’s how.”

Around this time was when he heard a noise. The seats behind him were filled with two droids. One of them must have budged. “Hey tinker-tanker from who-gives-a-crap-where.” Zad turned around. “Shut up.” Back to the viewport now.

“We’re comin’ up. Five. Ten minutes.” Of course his viewscreen told him everything but he wasn’t looking. Technology had its purpose but he preferred to wing it. “You had lunch? I got some stuff in the ship but I bet there’s plenty good eatin’ where we’re goin’.” His unlit cig only did so much.

Kikker

 

[Kikker]

"Lunch?" Kikker asked aloud. Truth be told, he'd been snacking on the various glowflies that he'd found aboard the ship. They were a normal pest in space and he absolutely loved them. But he knew that some humanoids, particularly humans, disliked the practice and found it rather repulsive. So, he'd been trying to be discrete about it.

"Uh...no thanks, partner. I already ate. Before we left, I mean. But you go ahead, I can calibrate the droids in the meantime." Kikker hastily improvised before heading over to the two battle bots they'd been assigned. As the space yacht over Scipio came into view, Kikker frowned and took stock of the shape of it and all the attack patterns the droids had programmed into them. As could be expected, Sector Ranger's tech department was hardly cutting edge, which meant the patterns were relatively safe and played out. Of course, Sector Rangers' budgets were also not very cutting edge. While such pedestrian tactics could be fairly effective with an overwhelming force of these droids, instead they'd been given two. Just two.

Against what their superior called "a couple of squads" of security. Wonderful.

"Not much programmed into these guys." Kikker lamented to his partner. "Might be better for one of us to stay in the ship with them and only come out once the target's been located by the other and cause a distraction with these tinheads. This is your ship so I'll leave it up to you who stays behind and who goes out."

Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Zad shrugged at the decline for lunch. “Sooch’erself, pardner.” He got up and slapped a fly away from his face on his way out of the cockpit. Damned things were a nuisance already. Suddenly they were a problem. A few were flying like they were trying to get away from something.
“Bastard buggers shoulda calibrated my kriffin’ pest control equipment always got sommat I missed gettin too old for this shit need a better fridge—” His mumbling eventually faded away. He began munching on a plate of no-idea-what-date-it-is bacon anyway.

“‘Course there isn’t,” Zad expressed after he came back. He stood in the cockpit’s doorway chewing on scrambled eggs, washing a mouthful down with a cup of coffee. “These idiots whose names shall be Tweedledum and Tweedledee would make better waiters than warriors.”
He was being mean and rude but their strength was in numbers and that sure as shitty shingles and single shitters didn’t mean two.

“Wayl, I’d just turn the damn things off but boss already informed me doin’ so would earn his irony.” He paused. “Ire. Not irony.” Words were hard. Despite Zad’s less than by the book tactics he had to do things by the book for this assignment or he might get fired again. In the end, he liked his job.
“You hang back. Keep in comlink while I’ll ping you when needed.” He needed a drink. His ship was running low on whiskey. “Do. Done. Did.”

They landed.

“Welcome to the Naughty Naut!” A hostess said after Zad slid out of his ship. Guards. Guards. And oh, look, guards. His Ranger ways made sure his ship wasn’t registered as law enforcement. They weren’t exactly undercover but this ought to make things easier especially without the droids causing a scene (yet).
“Naughty Naut, huh? Makes sense given the owner’s Nautolan.” He blew smoke from his cig. “Where might I find him? I got a proposition for 'im.” What Zad really meant was that he had the Proposition holstered at his hip for him.

Kikker

 

[FantasyLung]

For Kikker, things were pretty boring once Zad departed the ship. He readied the droids, readied his weapons and switched his comm from silent to vibrate, to make sure he was ready for the call. Then, not seeing any reason to work when he didn't have to, he turned the view screen to his favorite holochannel and sat back, comfortable.

As for Zad, he might be able to have picked up the barest of forehead creases in the smooth-skinned face of his Zeltron hostess at the mention of Dego Vebb. But the frown vanished as quickly as it has appeared and was replaced by the classic fake smile of a true professional hostess.

"Naught Naut - oh that's delightful. Mr. Vebb! Of course. Be sure and tell him that joke when you see him - he loves to laugh! He'll be on the Overlook Deck. I'll let him know you're coming!" The hostess said, sending a quick text on her datapad to presumably do just that.

Presumably.

If Zad wasn't particularly alert, he wouldn't notice a large Gran peel off from watching the crowd and begin to follow him at a distance once that text had been sent.

Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC (Recurring)

Zad just blinked as this hostess who might just be a bit of a ditz repeated the name of her own ship. Well, she wasn’t the owner of it, granted, and that owner was someone the Ranger only mentioned. Then again, who wouldn’t know the name of the Nautolan who named his ship the Naughty Naut to begin with?
One thing was for certain: Zad Ruzed wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need a cybernetic prosthetic for an eye to see with his naked eye that this hostess might be sending a text that was less than relevant to what he said.

Heck, for starters, he had his Ranger tactics beside the badge and identification card that went with it (if outdated; needed to be updated), yes, but he knew it wasn’t fool-proof. For all he knew he had already been made, his ‘cover’ seen through. It wasn’t much of one as it was.
Then again, maybe he was good, and this chick was as innocent as a blowfish in the wrong neighborhood. Whatever that meant.

“Aight den,” Ruzed nodded, breathing easy into his cigarette. “Thank ya, ma’am.” At that, he walked past Hostess Hope She Don’t Notice. Overlook Deck. Guessin’ it overlooks the deck. It would make sense and forgive the Ranger for cracking jokes inside his own head. He tended to make himself crack a grin and that was good enough for him.

He walks. His gait is casual. Doesn’t walk like a lumberjack. No hunchback. He just walks like Zad. Relaxed. If with a bit of swag. Breath of cigarette. I see you, friendo. To the guy posted on his right. A guard. You too, amigo. Gal on his left. Crossed arms. Doesn’t give his eyes away. It’s barely a glance anyway.

Eyes ahead. Heading toward the Overlook Deck. No eyes on the back of his head yet he has a sixth sense that only a Sector Ranger might ever develop. Who’s this then? Aimed to give nothing away as he turned around, bent down, picked up his totally accidentally dropped cigarette to spot the same Gran from the crowd.

Straightened up, straight gait, walked off to the Overlook Deck, spotted the naughty Nautolan of the Naughty Naut, paused at the open bar on the deck. He still needed his whiskey like he needed a hot Zeltron in his arms.

Kikker

 

[Kikker]

"Hey pally, mind stepping outside with me for a sec?" the Gran from before growled at Zad. The Sector Ranger could also see that a Bufopel had peeled off from the crowd and was standing resolutely to the Gran.

"I don't think he'd mind at all Yaa-Paa." the Bufopel chortled in a deep booming tone.

And Zad was hardly the only Sector Ranger dealing with some trouble. Why the blasted receiver on Zad's ship evidently was fairly terrible or maybe it was the signal around the yacht. Either way, the holochannel was going in and out, despite Kikker's repeated hits to the viewscreen. He wanted his stories, damn it! The two battle droids shifted awkwardly on their feet, unsure if the Sector Ranger attacking the screen meant that it was considered a hostile target that needed eliminating.

Die Shize

 

[Die Shize]

oops

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

Zad had a good view where he sat. The stool had a backrest for his back. No armrest but didn’t need that. Glass on the bar with liquor in it. Ass on the bartender. He kissed her with his eyes and she didn’t mind given her grin back at him. He sipped his whiskey. It wasn’t cheap. Totally worth it. Sweet. Smooth. Hint of honey.

Viewscreen above the bar. Music to groove to too. At the moment the Ranger just watched Huttball and laughed to the fall of some dumb Dug. Although Zad was also watching the reflection in his glass. He could just make out a Nautolan with his arms around the hips of women. Well, till he made out something else. Well hell.

That damned Gran came back. And he brought a friend. Look at that. Zad looked into his glass, his mini-mirror, but sipped his whiskey instead of looking upward. Then he looked left, looked right. “Ain’t we already outside? Heck. Thought this was an open deck. Guess I'm dumb as that Dug. Heh.”

Zad shrugged at that and lit up a fresh cigarette. Hoowee did it go well with his whiskey! Eyes on the viewscreen. Blue Team’s winning. Git it.

Kikker

 

[FantasyLung]

"Alright that's it!" The Gran exclaimed and he and the Bufopel immediately descended upon Zad, trying to forcibly drag him to a more secluded area. Subtly was no longer a priority for these two. By the looks of it, Zad was in for a fight. The Gran was roughly his size and weight but the Bufobel towered over the both of them, with rippling muscles to match.

Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

That it is. It’s all a man like Zad can think at the moment as he subtly taps his pocketed comlink to send an SOS to his companion then stands up quick as instinct takes over his senses. Heck, maybe he already lost his senses the instant he didn’t get up when Idiot and Chump with bad get-ups had asked him. Yeap, he’ll probably get another reprimand for this shit, which prolly meant a slap on the wrist, but who gives a crap? It was time to dance.

So yeah Zad sprung up from his stool but he took his stool with him and slammed its backrest up into Bufopel’s big chin. That ought to shut him up pretty quick before he might get a punch in. Yeah he was big but that just meant the attack is hard to miss and he was a bigger idiot than the other idiot.

Speaking of which, stool still in his grip, Zad twisted his wrists and slammed its other end, or one of the legs, at the Gran. If the attack succeeded then he would end up with a broken nose. Whether one attack hit, missed or neither landed, whatever, this was only the beginning, no matter what happened next.

Kikker

 

[FantasyLung]

Zad was correct that this was only the beginning. As soon as the attempted nabbing became an actual fight, the bar on the yacht exploded into panic. The patrons began screaming and heading to the upper decks while the remaining guards - of a mix of different genders and species - all came charging forward with stun batons to try and put down Zad.

And of course, they weren't the only ones springing into action. On Zad's ship, Kikker got the call and almost fell out of the bench he was curled up in. Looks like his new Human partner wasn't terribly fond of the whole "stealth" approach. Much as Kikker occasionally enjoyed a good gunfight, he also enjoyed living and not getting reamed out by his boss so this was going to complciate things.

Racing out of the ship without time to turn off the holo, Kikker pulled out his blaster and switched it to stun. Outside, he was almost fried as one of the guards posted by the landing zone took aim. Fortunately, the guard wasn't anticipating the two battle droids behind Rybet and the put him down with some stun blasts.

"You two! Go help Brainless! I gotta find Vebb before he dumps this datapad!" Kikker instructed and raced off to find their arms dealer.

OOC: Die Shize feel free to write how Zads melee went and to Dego Vebb

 

[Zad Ruzed]

In his defense, whatever happened next as he defended, Zad Ruzed simply acted in self-defense, no matter what his captain might consider of how events happened. Oh, sure, he wasn’t compliant when Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee asked him to get up, but who would be?
Whatever, those stun batons certainly changed things. Both attacks from Zad landed as blood sprayed from broken faces but the Ranger didn’t wait. He swung over the counter and stood behind the bar with his arms raised.

“Aight den!” Zad spat at them as two fighters came from either side. At least he wouldn’t be so easily surrounded and could fight in a line. “Come get it! Do! Done! Did!”

HERE COMES THE FUN

Ruzed could throw one heck of a punch but he had a stun baton of his own. There go those bozos. Cracked bone but someone managed to whack Zad on his shoulder. He gasped and eventually won the attack when blasters coughed in his general direction. But he was already behind cover.

-BLAM!-BLAM!-BLAM!-

Those were live bolts coming his way, aiming for his skull. Zad was tempted to exchange the same way but he needed his target taken captive. Stun setting it is, even against his better judgment. Come on, Nautolan.

“Kikker!” The Ranger called into his comlink. “I’m in the shit! Upper deck! Target’s makin’ a break for it! What’s your position!?”

Dego Vebb was already making a run for it when Zad shot him in the back. Hopefully he didn’t have a blast vest.

Kikker

 

[FantasyLung]

Unfortunately given just how many goons were on top of Zad, his shot went well wide of Vebb as the Nautolan made a break for it. Fortunately, the two battle droids were able to nail the crafty weapons dealer with their mechanical strength.

Complicating matters was the rather powerful vibroblade that Vebb had in his hand. With a mighty stab, Vebb punctured one of the droids heads before a stun shot from Kikker put him down on the ground. Of course, their boss now unconscious and on the ground led the goons on the ground to open up on Kikker. The Rybet managed to grab Vebb's datapad but his blaster was shot out of his hands and the surviving droid was missing a hand as the two dove into cover by Zad.

"Got the datapad but there's a lot of people between us and home. Ideas?"

Die Shize

Ooc: sorry been out of town.