Death and Taxes

[Krrowv]

It was a long, long journey to Mugg Fallow, beyond the edges of known space. But the distance wasn't the reason Krrowv dreaded it.

The Togorian's battered light freighter, Fate's Fool, dropped out of hyperspace above the barren planet, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. There were legends about this place, legends stretching back to long before the 800-year darkness, and they were unpleasant ones. The seas were said to be made of toxic ooze that seeped into a person's mind and left them little more than empty shells. A huge fleet of derelict ships had once surrounded the place, vessels from across the ages that had been stranded when their crews had been consumed body and soul by the so-called "Rot God" who held sway here.

But that was not why Krrowv was dreading this visit, either.

Fate's Fool made easy progress through the system; the debris field had been cleared years ago, the ancient starships salvaged to build slave pens and brutal arenas on the world below. Krrowv felt the engines shudder ominously as he approached high orbit. The interior lights flickered, and a warning klaxon wheezed when it should have blared. His ship was falling apart, small issues he couldn't pay to repair turning into big problems he still didn't have the credits to fix. Sooner or later it would probably fall apart on him entirely, leaving his frozen corpse drifting in the void. Until then, he was stuck trying to get out from under the mound of debt that controlled his every move.

Gazing down at the stark planet below, he imagined that he could see the City of Bone. Rumor had it that the Trandoshan pirates had built the city, part cruel market and part dark temple, out of the bleached remains of tens of thousands of victims of the corrupting ooze, with starship components to provide the frame. He had never seen it himself, so he couldn't say for certain, but he was about to get an up-close look. This was where [member="Causstik Rahn"], pirate lord of the Sharp Tooth warband, head slaver of the Slave Train, had made his base of operations, and Krrowv owed him money. A lot of money. None of which he was able to pay at the moment, and all of which was due.

Pushing down his fear, the Togorian opened a hailing frequency. "Fate's Fool, requesting permission to land. I have business with Causstik Rahn."

 

[Causstik Rahn]

The landing tower was made up of a large derelict ship. It's paint had worn away with the ages and the hull was dented in multiple places. It looked like an old skyscraper had been turned into a vessel for easy escape from some city world catastrophe. Two Trandoshans squabled amidst it's confines. A small rodent had found its way inside the small space and now it scurried too and fro for its life. The two Trandoshans fought desperately for the mouse like creature, as their hunger was ravenous and for these cretins it never seemed to abate. Then someone began hailing Bone City. Requesting permission to land. Anyone who came here willingly was either very brave, or very foolish. Regardless they answered the Transmission.

"This is Crossk you are cleared to land in docking bay 14," The Lizard hissed into the comms. If the sentient claimed to have business with their infallible lord it was best not to question it.

Docking bay 14 was simply another large abandoned boat that had crashed on the surface of Mugg Fallow. The Hangar bays managed to face outward while the rest of the ship had slowly become entombed by the Sands of time. The Trandoshans had erected bone over the hull to conceal the cracks and scars the old ship adorned. More then a cosmetic design it was also done so as to keep the circuitry within from being further damaged and eroding away.

[member="Krrowv"]

 

[Krrowv]

Fate's Fool descended inelegantly, her troublesome port-side stabilizer cutting in and out every thirty seconds or so. But Krrowv knew how to compensate; he knew all of the ship's quirks and how to work around them. Until he hit the big job, the big payday, and he could pay everything off, get everything fixed. That was the dream.

The Bone City's docking bay looked like it had once belong to a carrier of some kind. The cavernous hall still had a maze of gantries and scaffolds along the upper reaches, enough room to hold half a dozen fighter squadrons, but they were quietly rusting away as ships took off and landed beneath them. Battle damage and the trauma of the crash had left their mark on the ship, and the repairs had been... unconventional. Twisting patterns of bone, some old and yellowed, some fresh and gleaming white, crawled up the walls, forming the mortar of this ghoulish urban landscape. Unconsciously Krrowv imagined his own bones decorating one of these buildings.

He set Fate's Fool down and extended the docking ramp, a variety of bargaining tactics running through his head as he grasped at anything he could use to keep himself alive. There was little point in entering the Bone City armed; if the situation escalated to violence, he was hopelessly outnumbered in unfamiliar territory. So he left his sc'rath and blaster behind, straightened his battered jacket, and walked down the ramp. Parts of the deck plating crackled and crunched beneath his bulk, and he tried not to think too hard about the sound; bone had probably been used to prop up loose bulkheads, as well. Such was the nature of this grim, morbid place.

Steeling his nerves, Krrowv stood alone in docking bay 14, waiting for [member="Causstik Rahn"] or his representatives to instruct him further.

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik Rahn made his way through the bone laden walls guarded by two of his top chieftains. This Togorian owed him a fortune and he took it upon himself to see the debt payed. He arrived at docking bay 14 and entered the hangar. The Togorian's shuttle was a rather obsolete piece of junk. The hulls seemed dented, the paint peeling and half of its parts apperead ready to fall of at the drop of a dime. It was no wonder the man had lost Causstik's shipment. Now the cartel was breathing down his own neck. At the sight of the man the voices came flooding into his head. They were the call of the Rot God, the score keepers darker half. Or so Causstik thought.

Strike the fool down.. Now!

He ignored them. The Rot God would have him burn the whole galaxy in a righteous fire if he could. Regardless he needed this mans money and he saw fit to make this man pay every last dime.

"You.. You are my guest here. I will show all we have to.. Offer, before we settle my business in my personal quarters," Causstiks true intent was to throw this man in the arena pits if he did not mention the vast amounts of credits he owed him. He doubted the fool was last more then but a moment in the pits. Then again others had surprised him before.

"I do not believe you saw our arena last time you had come here,"

[member="Krrowv"]

 

[Krrowv]

It was not a good sign when [member="Causstik Rahn"] came to greet your arrival personally.

Krrowv stared at the scaled monstrosity, a hundred and fifty kilograms of ripping muscle and vicious instinct. The Togorian was no slouch in personal combat himself, with muscle that might match the Trandoshan pound for pound, but he had seen the crazed, feral glint in Rahn's eyes. He didn't fancy his chances against a being that seemed the very embodiment of the savage hunt. The words that slipped past the slaver king's razor fangs struck him like frigid hailstones, but he forced himself not to flinch. Any show of weakness would make him look useless, and that was the last impression he wanted to give. If he could look competent and worthwhile despite his failure, he might live to see another day.

Still, the word "arena" sent another shiver down Krrowv's spine. He wondered how many slavers had been butchered to appease the bloodthirst of Rahn and his "Rot God", which he claimed to be the dark reflection of the Scorekeeper whose favor so many Trandoshan traditionalists sought. He wondered if he would be next. "Thank you for your hospitality," he said with a little bow, managing to keep a straight face. If he was about to go to his death, he would not meet it with a flinch or tear. Life had already taken everything he valued. But he would not meet death lying down, either. He turned to follow Rahn, doing his best to commit every passage they passed to memory. If he had to make a quick exit, it would pay to have a route in mind.

Rahn hadn't mentioned the money, so Krrowv didn't either. He was sure, he reflected with a shudder, that there would be plenty of talking about it all too soon...

 

[Causstik Rahn]

The Togorian did not mention the credits. A bad sign, but still he seemed stoic. So perhaps not all was lost. His chieftains fell in behind the man and they made their way through the Skull covered halls. Upon exiting the docking bay they entered a speeder. Then they began their ascent to the "Hunting grounds". Below lay a sprawling village of bone and hide. In the center sat a bar made up of an old Corellian corvette. On the edge of the village an old LAAT provided shelter as a slave trader peddled his "Wares".

"That is one of the sities many, how do you say? Ssslums.." Causstik hissed to Krrowv.

As they crested the edge of the village the arena became apparent. It looked like a large crater dug into the ground. Seats had been carved out of the sides and they ended in a fifteen meter drop. In a curve of the arena a balcony sat supported by two grand pillars. Underneath the pillars a large iron gate led into the bottom of the pit. They banked into a landing zone that led into the confines of the stadiums seating.

"A private show for you my friend, yesss?" His voice sounded of grating gravel.

[member="Krrowv"]

 

[Krrowv]

Krrowv's heart sank as the chieftains fell in behind him, escorting him to the speeder. It wasn't like he'd had much chance to escape anyway, but the literal cutting off of any retreat was still demoralizing. He stared over the side of the vehicle, down at the slum his monstrous host had indicated, and kept his face carefully blank. He wondered what day-to-day life was like for the inhabitants of that ramshackle jungle. He'd known his own share of hard living, desperate and without any way to pull himself up; it was a state he might well return to, a dark fate that might await even if he survived the next few hours. But the presence of the slave trader gave him pause. If the people living there could afford to buy and sell sentient lives, they couldn't be too badly off.

The scars on his back ached in sympathy as he looked down at the crowd of chained beings, many of them crying quietly as the slave trader turned them around to show off their features to prospective purchasers. The One Sith empire had seen him as lesser because of his species; as a slave he had known many other victims of genocide and oppression, from Amarans to Mon Calamari to the butchered hosts of his own people. But these Trandoshans didn't care whether you were Human or not. They were only out for profit, and took what they wanted simply because they were stronger than those they took it from. Down in that maze of ancient technology, stretched hide, and bleached bone, strength was the only governing law.

The arena lay at the edge of the village, and as they approached Krrowv felt his breath drop away. It was huge, carved out of the cruel, barren stone of the planet itself. He could smell blood even from this distance, could readily imagine the kind of gruesome spectacle that the Trandoshans cheered on from the stands. A chill ran down his spine as he wondered if he would find himself thrown down in the pit, and the feeling only grew stronger as [member="Causstik Rahn"] mentioned a "private show". He cleared his throat, pushing his nervousness down. "I'm honored," he lied; if he ever had to see what went on down there, it would be a time too many. "But perhaps we should put business before pleasure."

Yes, they might as well get it over with. Unless Rahn intended this arena show as a display of dominance, a warning against failure. Unless "no" was not the answer he wanted...

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik stared at the [member="Krrowv"] as he blaitently refused one of the Trandoshans most sacred honors. For to witness a hunt was indeed one of the greatest honors of them all. He wanted to back hand the man for his insolence, but stayed his hand. "No. Not until my nerves have been rested and my mind has been put at ease," The voices screamed for blood. The Trandoshans and the Togarian made there way through the great tunnel that had been carved out by a thousand slaves. Their bones decorated the halls. It ended in the great balcony below and upon closer inspection it was revealed the pillars were giant bones from some once great beast that had been native to Mugg Fallow. The usually crowded stands now sat empty of its usual spectators, but one could still imagine the roar of the crowds as a warrior cut down his prey. The cheers would haunt this place for an eternity...

Down below a rumble began as the great iron gate opened to reveal a young chief emerging from the depths below. He exited into the open and raised his arms high in the air. The young chief was one of Causstiks many sons. This one favored the slaughter of the games and Causstik appraised him most of all.

"My son Turok. He is a great warrior," Causstik said as he sat and motioned for the Togorian to do the same. The chieftains would merely stand guard by the entrance. Then a large opening would be revealed as an elevator raised the sacrifice into the pit. It was a large Nexu chained to a pole. The greatest beast his son had faced to date. "WITNESS ME SCOREKEEPER!" The young warrior shouted as he charged the large beast.