Private Shrike Spotting

[The Shrike]

Tatooine
Dune Sea​

Normally before daybreak it was impossible to see anything in the deep darkness of the unending desert planet of Tatooine. This time, however, the pink and orange rays of light creeping over the Dune Sea weren't the first lights nor the brightest lights to be seen. This time, it was the grey smoke and flickering yellow flames of a downed supply ship. All around the crashed vessel were the bodies of what appeared to be its crew. Their helmets and armor torn to shreds and their bodies mutilated beyond just the burns from the fire. This morning was much different than most mornings on the desert planet, this morning there were no calls from the various lifeforms that called the desert their home, this morning they had all decided to stick to the shadows, to hide from whatever, or whoever caused this horrific scene.

By the time the twin suns had risen over the tallest peak in the Dune Sea, there had already been a crowd formed around the wreckage. It started with Jawas, who were not phased by the carnage surrounding it, then came the Humans, who were attempting to no avail to find survivors, then, finally, came the corpo mercenaries who were interested in damage control. They were hired by whatever company owned the local mines who sent the supply ship. They had stayed posted up around the smoldering ship, attempting to see if whatever was responsible for this massacre would show back up. They were armed to the teeth with blaster rifles and armor quite a bit heavier than that of their fallen counterparts. The mercenaries stood watch as corpo vehicles picked up the charred and mutilated bodies, whisking them off-world for in depth testing to find clues to their deaths.

By the time the suns were at the highest, word had reached the local community that some of their friends, neighbors, and spouses would not be returning. There were conspiracies thrown around raging from the Tuskens to a krayt dragons, each of them getting more and more outlandish. The minds of most people were unable to cope with loss, especially on such a large scale, so fear and anger are the emotions at the forefront of their minds. This lead them to violence, and quickly the locals had vowed to get to the bottom of this, exacting revenge for the deaths of their loved ones.

"Anyone who goes out into that desert will die!" An older woman shrieked, her arms reaching through the crowd of people who had already been strapped up with guns and weapons. "It's the Shrike! The Wounded Tusken!" She screamed again, her eyes wide with fear.

The people around her stopped talking, stepping away to allow her some space. She had now reached the front of the crowd, her white hair frazzled and her skin wrinkled. "He's the one that took my Josh from me years ago." Her voice cracked as she spoke, choking back tears. "He will kill you all if you go out there looking for him. You've all heard the cries in the night, the cries coming from that damned cave!" She now looked frantically across the crowd.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Those are just Tuskens trying to scare us away from the desert." A man in the crowd yelled, a few of the others agreeing with him. They all started looking toward the woman with an impatient glare. "Your son died because he got too close to the Tuskens, you know that." He paused, coming from the crowd to where she was standing, reaching out a hand to console her. "I know it hurts still that Josh is gone, but you're can't blame something that doesn't exist." His arm was then tossed to the side by the now crying woman.

"Then you will all die!" She stood back and waved a pointed finger at the entire crowd around her. "I will spit on your graves! I hope your women and children feel the same pain I do, I hope they all die alone like I will because of stupid men like you." She spit on the sands below her feet before taking off in the opposite direction, headed back to her hut on the outskirts of town.

There were a few murmurs from the crowd, they were likely shocked that the old woman would outright curse their families, but they were also still scared and angry at their own losses. The group of them collected themselves and started their talks of revenge again. The men of the village had already taken up their guns and ammunition, ready to take down whatever Tuskens or dragons had killed their family.

"We leave at dusk, and we don't return until we have the head of whatever killed our friends!" There was a massive roar amongst the crowd, some of them lifting their weapons in the air. The taste of revenge was thick on their tongues.

Alex StormWolf Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Alex StormWolf]

TATOOINE- MOS EISLEY

A vintage YT-1300 roars out of the blazing sky, circling for a landing at the Mos Eisley Spaceport. Exiting the vessel, his piercing green eyes narrowed to slits because of the intense light of the twin suns, Jedi Knight Alex StormWolf walks determinedly towards a run down shop at the edge of Mos Eisley.

Entering the shop, Alex pauses for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness, glancing around and catching sight of the proprietor, a grizzled older man known to the locals as 'Madman Malcolm'.

"Well, well, look what the womprats dragged in," Malcolm chuckled.

"Alright, Malcolm, I know you didn't beg me to come all the way from Coruscant just to compare me to a womprat's last meal," Alex replied. "What's the problem?"

"Something's been taking down supply ships out in the Dune Sea, people are going missing," Malcolm explained.

"Sounds like a local problem," Alex said. "Why tell me?"

"Because it's more than a local problem. There's something out there a helluva lot meaner than any Tusken. Some of the locals are saying that they've seen some sort of red eyed creature out there."

"So you want me to go looking for monsters...seriously?"

"Look Alex, I know you've hunted things that would turn a Hutt white, and never even blinked. I remember you telling me about the things that went on after dark when you took a contract from that noble whose planet was overrun by Sithspawn."

"You think there's something like that out in the Dune Sea?"

"I know damned well there is. No Tusken can do the sort of damage that's being done to those supply ships and disappear without leaving a trace."

"Malcolm, that's not much to go on," Alex objected. "If you want me to go running across the Dune Sea, tracking something down, I need something a little more concrete than just ghost stories you've been hearing around the spaceport."

"Alright, wiseass...what do you say to this," Malcolm huffed, pulling a memory card out of a pair of macrobinoculars and inserting it into a handheld holoprojector. The projector springs to life, displaying the image of a hulking red eyed apparition that gave the vague appearance of a Tusken.

"Where'd you get that," Alex asked, feeling a sudden chill go through him.

"A few nights ago, me and a few other guys went out to the edge of the Dune Sea to scout the area, and this thing popped up out in the dunes, just stood there like it was challenging us."

"Alright, you've convinced me. Where do I start looking?"

"Supply ship was taken out earlier today. I'd start near the wreckage. If you can wait until dusk, I'll grab us a couple of speeders and we can head out that way. I wouldn't feel right about you being out there alone."

"This thing have a name?"

"Some have called it The Wounded Tusken, others have taken to calling it the Shrike."

"We have a few hours until dusk, what do you say we go to the watering hole and grab a drink or two?"

"I'd say...long time, no see. Lead the way."

The Shrike
Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

This reminded him uncomfortably of his few trips to Korriban, which was odd in a way because they really only shared one large similarity.

The sand.

Malum adjusted the cloak over his face, in an attempt to keep the sharp sand from making it into his eye. Walking through sand dunes while blind... well, he would be hard-pressed to offer that as a punishment to even the worst of his enemies. Every step would be more sand entering his boot, and with every step his feet sank further and deeper into the sandy depths, making every consecutive step even more difficult, even more, energy consuming, as he had to raise his foot up, only to feel it sink below again and again.

Yet he continued going, continued going through this uncomfortable and hostile terrain.

Tatooine truly was one of the worst planets in the galaxy, the place where people were truly born to die.

His point was perhaps accentuated by the audible crack, twin sun-pierced eyes, making out slowly the existence of some bones. Small bones, perhaps belonging to some bird or lizard.

Unfortunately for him, what he was hunting here was far larger than some bird or lizard. Though what exactly he was hunting for, he was not entirely sure. He grasped his amulet, its heat far more comfortable than the heat from the suns above, his dry lips chapping to retain even the most minimal amount of moisture, as he reached down to his kit to pull out a canteen of once ice-cold water.

It was not uncomfortably warm.

He took a swig and grimaced.

Better than nothing, but he could have said that about a lot of things.

The amulet's heat was important, it meant that his target was not too far away, which meant once he figured out what his target was, he could decide what to do next, and most importantly finally leave this sandy hell. How the Chosen one was born here of all places, this backwater of emptiness, he had no idea.

No wonder the man would fall to the darkside though, if he had to spend his life here, nothing much would be needed to convince him that the entire galaxy was a horrid land that needed to be purified through Force, even if Malum knew the rest of the galaxy could be beautiful, he only had to live here for a few days to wonder why the rest of the Galaxy did not help.

He had noticed with some distaste that landing at a settlement, slavery was well and thriving here.

He could definitely see why the Chosen One had fallen to the Darkness, from the chains of the Jedi, the Sith would break free. That is how it always was, that is how it always would be.

Malum kept trudging on, keeping his cloak in place, as sweat trailed his hair, his face, his entire body.

He was getting closer.

He knew it.

The Shrike Alex StormWolf

 

[The Shrike]

The harsh, arid winds whipped around The Shrike's body, the tattered cape on the back of his armor kicked to and fro with the sands. The abomination stood on the edge of his lair, his piercing red gaze watching the twin suns set over the mountains surrounding him. The time was approaching for his next hunt. Ever since he had killed his master and destroyed the only place he had ever known, hunting and killing were the only things he responded to. The small part of who he was before was all but gone, the creations of his mind being the only truth he knew anymore. Those truths being everyone and everything else in the galaxy needed to hurt as badly as he did. They all needed to feel the rage he was born into, to drown into it, and be reborn in its image.

Yes, soon he would be able to quench his growing thirst for vengeance.The Sith had started small, attacking those who ventured too close to his land, beasts and sapiens alike. This worked for a while, but soon his heart grew too dark for these petty displays of violence to suffice. That was when The Shrike started to hunt larger, more dangerous prey. He would venture farther and farther from his reach of Tatooine, using the cover of night to move like his namesake, the shrike. These ventures lead him to the outskirts of mining civilizations and moisture farms. These poor settlements then became the focus of his unwavering rage. Last nights destruction, a small ship filled with supplies and people was only his most recently savagery. Even this display of rage only lasted a day, he was already stirring to kill again.

In the distance, far out in the Eastern Dune sea, The Shrike could hear the callings of the Tuskens, they were sounding a sort of alarm for the Sith. Through the year that he had been stalking this corner of the desert, and the lifetime of killing before that, he had never killed a Raider. Even if he had only interacted with a handful of them, in his heart, no matter how twisted and drained it was, he considered them his family. They had respected his presence, knowing if they ventured too close, or poked too hard, they would also become a victim. The call they were sounding wasn't one for a krayt dragon or a sandstorm, this call was to announce outsiders. The Tuskens were warning him that there were people on his trail, likely out for blood for the crimes he had commited.

As the dying rays from the sunset cast across him, The Shrike turned around and head back into his lair. The outside of the cave was a dark and twisted canvas, dried blood coating the outside, parts of wall torn away from the whirlwind rages the Sith would fly into, the stench of rotting flesh staining the air around it. This display of gore would make it appear as though a rancor resided in the unhallowed walls of the desert cave. The cries of the Tusken Raiders were getting louder as The Shrike gathered his weapons together. He bore his two gaffi sticks on either side of his back, and his lightsaber along his waist. There was no need for guns in the type of hunting he was about to do. All of his kills were going to be up close and personal. He clicked his utility belt together and made his way back out of the hovel.

Looking toward the now pink and orange sky above him, the Sith knight saw a shrike flying in the air, its cold caw echoing across the rocks all around him. It was flying southeast, toward the wreckage of the ship from the previous night. The birds had a history of flying with Tusken Raiders, and even a bastardization of them like The Shrike still had an innate connection to the bird. It was decided, the desert was showing him the way. The Tusken set out on his hunt, making his way down the steep moutain side. It would soon be dark, and the bird would be impossible to see in the night sky, so instead he would have to rely on his knowledge of the dunes to find his way around. The Tuskens sounded in the background again, this time was likely their last warning. The Shrike decided to answer back this time. He lifted his head back, and through the excruciating pain from his destroyed vocal cords, he let loose a foul scream into the growing darkness.

Alex StormWolf Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Alex StormWolf]

TATOOINE- DUNE SEA, DUSK

After stopping off at Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina for a few drinks and the chance to get reacquainted with some of the locals who remembered him from his last hermitage on Tatooine, Alex and Malcolm loaded up two speeders with supplies and headed out for the site of the downed supply ship. As they approached, they could see a crowd of heavily armed locals were already heading into the dunes.

"Damn it," Malcolm huffed, "these stupid bastards are just going to get in the way. What do we do?"

"We wait for a bit," Alex replied, having sensed not one, but two dark presences somewhere out in the dunes that stretched away endlessly towards the horizon. "Then we start out on a path that takes us away from the locals, and circle back toward the wreckage here."

"See if we can't catch something in an ambush. I like the way you think."

The Shrike
Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[The Shrike]

As soon as the last vestiges of light filtered from the sky, the cold winds started nipping about. The once loud and active desert was now far quieter. The critters that were running around before had long gone to sleep, now it was time for the predators to move. Those who waited all day in the darkness to have their moment. The Tusken and the other predators all would be stirring, searching for a kill. The Sith could make out lights in the distance, some of them cities, and some of them people. The light that grabbed his attention the most was a ring of different lights slowly moving through the dunes. Having taken refuge atop a stone structure, the Shrike was able to see for miles across the desert. His inert knowledge of the rolling dune sea helped a lot with figuring the location of last night's bounty.

Knowing those who were hunting him were likely from that same area, he decided he would have to act fast. There were a lot of them, but they were likely not trained in combat. There was probably corporate support somewhere in the desert, but even they might not be a real challenge for the Sith. There was a hint of something, however, something powerful somewhere in the endless sands. One of these felt like a sinister being, one not too different from the Shrike himself. The other felt more...ambivalent, it was not dark, but not bright enough that it burned him. The knight was unsure if these forces were tracking him or if their involvement was purely coincidence. Either way, the Shrike knew he would have to dispatch these enemies quickly if he wanted to go unnoticed and protect his little spot in the desert.

Dismounting from his vantage point, he landed safely on the sand. Knowing his location in the dune sea, the Shrike was able to estimate that he was roughly a ten minute trek from the militia. Using the Force, the Tusken raced his way toward them, his gaffi sticks in hand and ready to pounce as soon as he reached them, or as soon as something reached him. The only tells of his presence being the faint glow from the red eyes in his mask and the sheer sense of dread he dragged with him everywhere he went. Even the hair on a bantha's back would stand up if they felt his presence around them. There was rage in his movements, a blood lust that wouldn't be satiated until he felt his weapons stick through the skin and bones of his victims.

Darth Malum of House Marr Alex StormWolf​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The shrieks in the darkness were enough to give him some pause. Physically stopping his trek, as his ears seemed to flicker in alertness. The deserts of Tatooine were dangerous at the best of times, its twin suns seeming to leech out the strength and life out of you, slowly, but with you feeling every trail of moisture, every bothersome wipe, and every uncomfortable touch of clothing sticking to your back. It was a death by a thousand cuts, that seemed somehow worse.

No blood was drawn after all. Good thing too, for as the shrikes circled overhead, he could already imagine the carrion were circling what they suspected was a future corpse to peck and scavenge off.

It was enough for him to almost beg for the darkness and coolness that would soon descend upon the world. A little-known fact about deserts like these, and he could not say why it was the case, but they became extremely cold when the sun, and in this case suns, set. Freezing, such that anything that would tour these lands in the darkness, had a great possibility of not seeing the light again.

Unless they were prepared of course.

And as much as he might have been, the setting suns did not provide him any comfort. The amulet burned ever hotly, but the fact was hunting in the darkness, with freezing winds, that no doubt would call on a sandstorm, might as well have been a death sentence, especially if his foe was as dangerous as he imagined him to be.

The best move would be to make camp somewhere, a clear area, defensible, and if at all possible, comfortable. He knew he would not be getting any sleep tonight, but may as well spend the hours of darkness in the most comfort he could.

It was then that his red eyes spotted in the darkness, a most peculiar sight.

Smoke was rising, and he could make out flickering lights moving through the desert.

Biting his lip, it would seem that he had company on this hunt of his. His cloak billowing in the wind, he began trudging off, this warranted further investigation, and whether those lights belonged to friends or foe, the smoke implied a campsite, which was certainly the best spot he would get to rest that he would find in this hellhole.

The blood-curdling scream in the distance certainly did not fill him with any confidence though.

The Shrike Alex StormWolf

(OOC: I am so sorry for the delay, been an extremely busy few months)