Pyke Exile
A dented wall. A steering system that barely worked. A finicky temperature control system. The list went on and on. The point was, Glar Ulchtar needed to get his Ship repaired before it completely stopped working. Glar did not even know why he still had a heavily modified LAAT/I Gunship that dated back to the Clone Wars.
Glar accessed a small, holographic star map, and looked at where he was. He was in a patch of neutral territory that had not yet been claimed by one of the Confederacy’s upstart successor governments. The nearest habitable celestial object was Pantora. Pantora would be just fine for repairs. Or so Glar thought.
About an hour later, Glar had landed his ship in a small town on the Pantoran surface. He left it at a Repair Dock for maintenance, which would take about an hour or two. In the meantime, Glar decided to find something to do. Upon walking out of the Repair Dock, he found that the weather was bitterly cold.
Glar almost immediately walked through the door of a nearby building in order to avoid the foul weather. Glar looked around the building he had walked into. It seemed to be a blaster dealership. Blasters of various shapes and sizes were displayed throughout the store, most of which were knockoffs of blasters used by the Empire or the Galactic Alliance. There were about twelve people in the store, counting Glar, the cashier (a rather bored looking Givin), and a Pantoran salesman who was currently trying to sell a blaster pistol to a rather unimpressed Human.
What really caught Glar’s attention though, were the three Pykes who didn’t seem to be looking at anything. Glar rarely saw Pykes other than himself this far away from Oba Dia, especially not in groups like these three. The one who seemed to be the leader began to casually approach Glar. The leader was wearing a grey mask with a long, green scar running down the side of it. “It is not often that we Pykes meet each other this far away from the Homeworld.” The leader of the group said in the Pyke language. His voice had just a hint of assertiveness in it. In response, Glar said “Well, the Galaxy is a full of random, one off meetings, I suppose. I wouldn’t look too deeply into it.”
Glar began slowly moving towards the exit of the building. The Pyke standing in front of him said “Leaving already? Perhaps you did not notice, but I would like to have a polite conversation with you first.” As he was saying this, another Pyke walked into the store, and lingered close to the exit. Clearly, Glar was not going to get out of this situation peacefully. The only weapon Glar had with him was his lightsaber, and of course his force abilities. The blasters displayed in the store would be no help to him, as they were all powered off.
Glar accessed a small, holographic star map, and looked at where he was. He was in a patch of neutral territory that had not yet been claimed by one of the Confederacy’s upstart successor governments. The nearest habitable celestial object was Pantora. Pantora would be just fine for repairs. Or so Glar thought.
About an hour later, Glar had landed his ship in a small town on the Pantoran surface. He left it at a Repair Dock for maintenance, which would take about an hour or two. In the meantime, Glar decided to find something to do. Upon walking out of the Repair Dock, he found that the weather was bitterly cold.
Glar almost immediately walked through the door of a nearby building in order to avoid the foul weather. Glar looked around the building he had walked into. It seemed to be a blaster dealership. Blasters of various shapes and sizes were displayed throughout the store, most of which were knockoffs of blasters used by the Empire or the Galactic Alliance. There were about twelve people in the store, counting Glar, the cashier (a rather bored looking Givin), and a Pantoran salesman who was currently trying to sell a blaster pistol to a rather unimpressed Human.
What really caught Glar’s attention though, were the three Pykes who didn’t seem to be looking at anything. Glar rarely saw Pykes other than himself this far away from Oba Dia, especially not in groups like these three. The one who seemed to be the leader began to casually approach Glar. The leader was wearing a grey mask with a long, green scar running down the side of it. “It is not often that we Pykes meet each other this far away from the Homeworld.” The leader of the group said in the Pyke language. His voice had just a hint of assertiveness in it. In response, Glar said “Well, the Galaxy is a full of random, one off meetings, I suppose. I wouldn’t look too deeply into it.”
Glar began slowly moving towards the exit of the building. The Pyke standing in front of him said “Leaving already? Perhaps you did not notice, but I would like to have a polite conversation with you first.” As he was saying this, another Pyke walked into the store, and lingered close to the exit. Clearly, Glar was not going to get out of this situation peacefully. The only weapon Glar had with him was his lightsaber, and of course his force abilities. The blasters displayed in the store would be no help to him, as they were all powered off.
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