Private Runaway Hunt

[Vilkas]

Planet Terminus, Kallea Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Zeta Market​

Vilkas strolled through the crowded stalls. The air was filled with steam, drugs and a thousand odors filling the Nelvaanian’s sensitive nostrils. It can be irritating at times say the least but he had learned to tolerate such inconvenience.

All around him, beings of various species and shapes went about their affairs, buying, selling or haggling. He sneered as a floating droid flew by him, narrowly missing his head. Vilkas made a turn to the left corner trying to find a way to find a shortcut through the masses.

Moments Rodian jazz rang out from the intercom, causing Vilkas to wince at the sudden new noise to his highly attuned ears.

This is a nest of prey and predators. He thought to himself before someone of small stature bumped into him and attempted to reached in for his right pocket

Instinctively, the Nelvaanian grabbed the figure by the right arm and proceeded to squirm in pain. Looking down, Vilkas could only sigh, it was a child, a caramel skinned girl with wavy red hair and emerald eyes, dressed in tannish rags. She looked no more than eight years old and clearly frightened, shaking all over. No doubt the child expected retribution, he realized.

“If you’re going to steal from someone, try a less obvious way.”

Sacred the girl begged

“Sorry mister please don-

Before she could finish Vilkas interrupted.

“I won’t hurt you kicsi egy(little one) but it is best you leave me be.”

Without waiting for her to nod in acknowledgment, the hunter let go of the urchin’s arm. Surprised at the show of mercy she looked up at him briefly before running off in the opposite direction. Regret filled Vilkas’ soul as he grimace. Compassion is in short supply in the galactic underworld and what little there is often ridiculed and worse taken advantage of.

May the Great Mother guide her steps.

With that out of the way Vilkas pressed on, heading toward a stall selling spare parts.

Juniper Jett

 

[Juniper Jett]

"Hey, you look like a woman of fine taste..."

"Droid parts! Droid parts! Best deals this side of the Rimma Route..."

"Elegant finery for the modern captain! Perfect for making deals and impressing your lady/gentleman/other at port..."

The din of the market all around her. Juniper always treasured the moments like that. Especially on a world like Terminus, where everyone in the Outer Rim came to trade. A perfect place for everyone looking to unload their stolen stash, or just for those without the fuel or creds to get to a more 'respectable' port. There were very few questions and always a deal to be a struck there.

She'd been there enough times now to know what not to do. You wander around, wide-eyed and in awe with everything? They'll pick a price and triple it. Acting all aloof, ignoring everything that was called out to her... she was a woman of taste. Not just a woman, a captain.

She approached a stall near the back. A variety of stalls and their holders beckoned her closer, all to do with droids. Tangles and collections of droids faced her, from the rusting and barely-functional to the sleek and shiny. A job had come through for her and she was feeling quite credit-heavy, so she was in the market for a droid companion. She ignored the parts stall, for obvious reasons, and approached the main counter. The Twi'lek on the other side looked her over.

"Aren't you a little young to be buying droids on your own, girl?" he said, clearly disproving. Juniper scowled at him.

"I'm a captain, and I'll spend my creds somewhere else if you don't want them," she said, a little peevishly. Not exactly the most mature thing to spit at him in brattish glee, but he smiled and laughed.

"Relax girl, you can be whatever you want if you can pay." Juniper rolled her eyes. You'd think he'd get the hint from the way she looked. Dressed in a stained flight-suit, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Still had a little oil and grease smeared on her cheek. Doesn't matter that the bounty won't come this far out. I barely look like who I used to be.

"Yeah, I'm in the market for an astronavigation droid. Something reliable. I'm willing to pay for decent but not over-the-top," she said, in her matter-of-fact spacer accent she'd picked up. A strange mish-mash of pronunciation and clipped consonants that tried desperately to avoid sounding like the Core Worlds.

Vilkas