Stranger Danger (open)

[Pal Veda]

Nar Shaddaa. Known locally as Little Coruscant, among other names. It sat on the edge of Republic Space, but could it really be tamed by the galactic watchdogs? It seemed as if most just went about their business as always...and that business always seemed to be illegal.

Hwo could care less about the smuggling and dealing taking place on the moon. Those laws were not his to enforce; he followed a code of morality, not legality. He had never been a police-type, but these days, he felt almost like an outlaw. Hell, there were probably warrants out for his arrest at this point. Of course the bounty hunter he'd been forced to strike down in Mos Eisley posed a more serious threat. The Trandoshan's unruly friends were a bit more dangerous than some barely trained squadron of Republic cops. At least the Jedi had made it out without being seen--as far as he could tell. The hundred or so credits he'd taken from the reptile's corpse had covered his public transport to Nar Shaddaa with plenty left over.

Now Hwo stood on the balcony of some pub--was it Dirty Danster's?--overlooking the sprawling Vertical City. He wore civilian clothes covered by a brown cloak to keep him warm...and to hide the lightsaber hilt he concealed inside the right sleeve. Slowly he sipped his drink, keeping his eyes toward the skyline, considering the transgressions of his past.

[member="Tugoro Taidarious"]
[member="Razz Michaels"]

 

[Tugoro Taidarious]

Walking the streets of Nar Shadaa, Tugoro could not help but stop completely, having felt something rather strange. At least, it was strange for these parts, seeing as it was not everyday you felt a light sided force signature amongst the filthy, scum filled city planet. It had been hours since the boy had left his master, having gotten extremely bored of the job they had been doing. The duo had previously been in a cantina, much like the one [member="Hwo"] was in, though it had employed slaves as dancers and servers. Tugoro could not help but grit his teeth in anger as he thought of his past, remembering how he too had once been a slave. Craning his neck, the young padawan would turn to look at the building to his side, one that was titled "Dirty Danster's." A strange name, though it was not uncommon since hardly anyone had a regular sounding establishment. Especially on Nar Shadaa.

Lifting his gaze, the teenager would look up towards the balcony, spotting a man who leaned against the railing while sipping his drink. Closing his eyes, Tugoro would begin to concentrate, using the force to attempt and feel the individual's aura. It was bright and powerful, greater than Zaren's aura by far. What was a Jedi Master doing in a place like this? Stepping forward, the padawan would make his way into the building, receiving a few odd looks from the usual customers. Ignoring them and anything else, Tugoro would make his way up to the second level, standing in the balcony's entrance as he opened the door. "Yo." The boy would call, looking forward to the man who seemed to be deep in thought.

 

[Pal Veda]

A miscalculation. That was the best way to describe Hwo's error. He had mistakenly thought he could lay low among the thieves and villains of Nar Shaddaa. But he felt the sensation as [member="Tugoro Taidarious"] reached out through the Force. This is what happens when you let your guard down, he thought to himself. Perhaps the Republic had a greater hold on the moon than he'd originally guessed.

As the young Jedi made his way through the pub, Hwo took another sip and considered his options. The boy's aura was light, friendly, perhaps even innocent. He did not pose a threat. It was curiosity that led him here. But Hwo could never be too careful these days. Simply because he shared a general philosophy with a group of individuals did not make them allies. The Jedi factions were split, for better or worse, and this particular Master did not maintain membership in any of the lightside camps.

Hwo did not immediately turn around as Tugoro addressed him, but rather he continued staring out over the balcony. "There was a time, not too long ago, when our kind wasn't very welcome here." He finished his drink and sat the empty glass on the table next to him, then he finally turned to face the young man. "I see that is no longer the case."

 

[Tugoro Taidarious]

The young boy's head would nod as he listened to [member="Hwo"] speak, grinning at the words the man spoke. Shaking his head from side to side, Tugoro would begin to walk forward, taking each step slowly. The padawan's feet would stop as they reached the edge of the balcony, cut off by the metallic railing. Leaning forward, Tugoro would begin to look down at the streets, before looking up at the many buildings that surrounded them. "You think so?" The boy would question, a smirk plastered across his face. Tugoro was dressed in a simple outfit, brown botos, beige pants, and a shining leather flight jacket. He looked like any other spacer, just younger than usual. When he went out, he liked to avoid wearing his Jedi tunic and robing, seeing as it simply drew attention. Though, he did wear his Jedi Armor on "official Republic jobs", as he liked to call them.

"I don't." Tugoro would state, having recently realized the hate that many people felt for the Order. "Why are you here?" The boy would question, sounding almost toneless. He spoke quickly, and in short sentences, hinting at a lack of knowledge in basic.

 

[Pal Veda]

"Use your imagination," Hwo replied, his tone slightly sarcastic. It's easy to let your manners slide after spending time on Tatooine. He leaned his back against the railing, gazing inside the pub. Scum? Check. Villainy? Check. Good manners probably weren't too common here, either.

He looked over at the younger Jedi and admired his confidence. The boy had strolled right into the bar and approached him without a moment of hesitation. "A better question is what brings you to these parts?" Hwo did not sense any other strong Force presence in their immediate vicinity, but [member="Tugoro Taidarious"] certainly would not be here alone. Of course there was no reason he couldn't trust the boy and his master; he simply had a habit of avoiding those who may not approve of his version of the Jedi Code. It made things...simpler.

"Does your master know you're roaming the streets of Nar Shaddaa alone?"

 

[Tugoro Taidarious]

The boy's shoulders would roll in a shrug, as he continued to look out from the balcony. Tugoro had been on a mission issued by the Republic, seeing as they needed assistance with controlling and shutting down the slave operations on Nar Shadaa. "Republic business." He would say, seeing as that was what it was. It was basically a futile effort, though one that the boy held pride in. Having been a slave previous to the discovery of his force sensitivity, the young padawan felt compassion for others who were suffering. Thinking back, the brown haired lad recalled leaving the cantina they had been at, though he was unsure where his master had gone. After taking care of the slave employment, Tugoro had wandered off, he wondered if Zaren would be angry. "Yeah, he knows." The boy would comment, grinning widely as he did so.

Pushing forward on the railing, Tugoro would step back from the balcony's edge, examining the man who stood in front of him. Who was he, and why was he here? Surely he was Jedi, for his light sided present could be felt, on top of that he wore a brown cloak. Pausing for a second, Tugoro would chuckle to himself quietly, figuring that anyone could wear a brown cloak if they wanted. "Why are you here?" He would ask again, seriously wanting to know what [member="Hwo"] was doing.

 

[Pal Veda]

"Maybe I'm on Republic business, too," Hwo replied dryly. Oddly enough, that wasn't too far from the truth.

Seeing his new acquaintance would not accept that answer, he continued. "I'm here because there aren't many places where a man like me is welcome." Now that was not an answer at all, but it was definitely the truth. "I have nothing against your Republic in particular, but their wars are not my wars. Sometimes we overlap, other times we do not."

Hwo caught the attention of a server droid and motioned for it to roll over. "A Corellian ale," he ordered, "and a blue milk for my young companion here." He handed over a couple of credits and the droid went off to get their drinks.

Then he turned his attention back to [member="Tugoro Taidarious"]. "I'm Hwo," he introduced himself. "Do you have a name, Padawan?"

 

[Razz Michaels]

Razz Michaels onNar Shaddaa, he wasn't out of place on a planet like this. He sat in a dirty cantina called Dirty Danster's or something like that.

His bodyguard Raul began to speak. "This place really lives up to its name eh boss?" Raul said.

Razz looked at the man and nodded, the smell inside the cantina was unbearable, he grabbed his Corellian Whiskey and started to walk out onto the balcony he went up the stairs and out to the balcony, it was odd that there was only two people there who seemed to be engaged in conversation.

He walked up and finished his Corellian Whiskey. "Raul, mind getting me another?" He asked politely then looked at the man and boy who he stood next to.

Before Raul walked off to get Razz's whiskey, he glared at the two men.

"Hello gentlmen, I'm sorry to intrude on whatever you two were doing here. I just couldn't bare the smell in the cantina, but those dancers are quite amusing." He said politely.

"Oh I am sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Razz Michaels, it is a pleasure to meet you two." He said like a gentleman.



[member="Tugoro Taidarious"]
[member="Hwo"]

 

[Tugoro Taidarious]

"Ex-Jedi, huh?" Tugoro would question, nodding understandingly. At first the young padawan had figured the man was on some sort of undercover mission, though his assumptions were dismissed as [member="Hwo"] continued to speak. It was obvious that the man did not favor the Republic, something that was definitely not uncommon nowadays. War raged on all across the galaxy, millions of innocents died everyday due to the warring factions. "True," the boy would begin, in regards to his second statement, "Democracy is lost in times of war." The boy would continue to say, figuring that it was the reason this man in front of him had defected.

Before he was able to continue, the serving droid walked past, which caused Hwo to beckon it closer. Upon hearing the order for blue milk, Tugoro's vision would narrow as he squinted at the man, a mild, though humored sense of spite within his gaze. What the hell was blue milk, and why did the boy want it? It sounded like something a five year old would drink. "Padawan Taidarious, a plea-" Tugoro would speak, once more being cut off by the droid's arrival, and a new person. [member="Razz Michaels"] was probably the textbook definition for shady, for when the man approached Tugoro could not help but feel chills run up his spine.

 

[Pal Veda]

The droid offered Hwo his drink, then handed [member="Tugoro Taidarious"] a tall, thin glass of blue milk. The boy introduced himself with his Padawan title--a Jedi habit that amused him. It had been a long time since he had used any title before his own name. Hell, it had been a long time since he had even used his full name. Nobody had called him Hwoarang in years, much less Master Hwoarang.

Another man appeared behind the server droid, introducing himself more politely than Hwo would have ever expected. [member="Razz Michaels"] seemed just like the kind of person one would expect to see at a place called Dirty Danster's on the Smuggler's Moon. "Only the best dancers for Danster," he smirked. "I'm Hwo, and this here is my little cousin Taidar." He wasn't sure if the kid would be quick enough to lie on his own, but he certainly didn't want the Padawan to give himself away until they knew more about this newcomer. Whether that was for Taidarious's protection or to cover his own butt was left in the air.

"So how's the night treatin' ya?"

 

[Razz Michaels]

Razz looked at both of the two.

"Hello Mr. Hwo and Mr. Taidar, the dancers are the only things that are worth coming to a rathole like this." He said with a chuckle.

He paused for a moment, these people Hwo and Taidar, they seemed well maintained for a place like this. You wouldn't expect to see these type of people here. He thought to himself.

"On a night like this, it has been quite nice, the only thing that ruins it is the smell, and thse burns, but it is impolite for a man to talk about himself, what about you two, how are your nights?" He said politely.

He didn't want to seem as if he was a bad man, even ifnhe was a crime lord it was nice to be polite.

[member="Hwo"]
[member="Tugoro Taidarious"]

 

[Tugoro Taidarious]

After being handed the glass of blue milk, Tugoro could not help but place it on the balcony's ledge, seeing as it looked very strange. Remaining a few meters away from the railing, the young padawan would simply listen to [member="Razz Michaels"] and [member="Hwo"], receiving mixed emotions from the duo. The cloaked man seemed to be friendly, though apparently he was insane. If the boy had been more calm at the moment, he probably would've been able to pick up on Hwo's intentions through the force. Unfortunately, Tugoro was not calm, for this new arrival continued to speak of how the dancers were the only things "worth coming for." That really rubbed the lad in a wrong way, for just earlier that day he had been investigating cantinas. Hell, Razz Michaels would surely recognize the young padawan, still decked out in his flight jacket. "My name's Tugoro Taidarious, alright?" The boy would say, taking a few steps forward.

Standing closer to the duo, the look of annoyance could clear be seen on the padawan's expression. Though, through the force anyone would be able to sense the pure anger that was beginning to build up within him. Closing his eyes just for a split second, Tugoro would begin focus, rather intent on feeling the true emotions of those dancers, the ones that were hidden. Gritting his teeth, the teenager would open his eyes, glaring directly at the bandaged man. "You disgust me." He would state, shaking his head from one side to the other, slowly. What he felt was terrible, it was the same he way he had been many years ago. The name of the game was slavers, that what mattered to the boy. These people used slaves in their establishments, in order to make better profit. The feelings of sorrow were more than enough evidence for the rash boy.

 

[Pal Veda]

And that's one way to do it, Hwo thought to himself. He was a bit shocked at [member="Tugoro Taidarious"]'s outburst for a second, but only for a second. The Jedi coolly reached into his pocket and retrieved a half pack of death sticks and micro lighter he'd taken from the Trandoshan on Tatooine. He plucked one out and put it to his lips, then put the tiny flame to the end. Warm smoke filled his lungs, then came out in one long exhale. He wasn't a smoker per se, but he did indulge on occasion. This was such an occasion.

"On second thought, this isn't my cousin at all," Hwo joked, raising his hands innocently. He took another puff and eyed the younger Jedi. You've got balls, kid, but if you want to keep 'em, you've got to learn when to hold your tongue. Of course that message was far too complicated to relay through the force, but Hwo's expression alone should have gotten the point across.

Maybe this would be a good lesson for the kid. He decided to wait and see how [member="Razz Michaels"] reacted before intervening.

 

[Razz Michaels]

"My name's Tugoro Taidarious, alright?" The boy would say, taking a few steps forward.

"You disgust me." The boy named Tugoro said.

Razz raised a eyebrow, the boys expression on his face was annoyed.

"Mr. Tanarious, I ask you to watch your tone, I am nothing more then a businessman." He said politley.

"Do you have a problem?" He said before looking at Hwo.

"On second thought, this isn't my cousin at all," Hwo joked, raising his hands innocently.

"Mr. Hwo, I do not like jokes as much as you think." He said in a polite but serious tone.

Just then Raul came back with Razz's drink.

"Here ya go boss." Raul said before noticing the tension between the three. Raul took a step back and slowly radioed one of Razz's other bodygurds Zane. A few weconds later Zane came from the bar. His mask on and his combat knife in hand.

They stood on each siade of Razz, though he did not need them, it was always good insurance.

"Before you two accuse me of being a man who tells his men to do his dirty work, I will tell you that I do most of my work." He said before looking at Zane and Raul.

"Uh is there a problem sir?" Zane said.

There was a slight scared look in the eighteen year old bodygurds eyes.

"There may be but, it is nothing that we can't handle, hopefully these two are noble enough to not kill us if we don't succeed in this fight." His words rang through the two bodygurds ears.

Raul simply smiled under his mask. He loved a good fight. He put his longblaster down and pulled his combat knife out. Razz noticed Zane still had a nervous look in his eyes.

Razz looked at the two men across them.

"If you two would be so kind as to let my companion here sit out on our little fight?" He asked politley even though the tension was high.

If the two allowed it Zane would simply walk to the other side and watch. If they didn't then Zane would be forced to fight.





[member="Hwo"]
[member="Tugoro Taidarious"]

 

[GREG]

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IS BADASS ABOUT NAR SHADDAA? EVERY ****ING THING. THAT'S RIGHT. THE GROUND. THE NEON SIGNS. THE LACK OF A DISTINCT POLICE FORCE. THAT'S WHY GREG WAS HERE. IT WAS JUST SO ****ING BADASS. AFTER INGESTING HALF A PROTEIN SHAKE THROUGH HIS EYEBALLS, GREG WANDERED AROUND THE STREETS.


ON A MOTORCYCLE. HE WAS HITTING A LOT OF SPEEDBUMPS.

THAT WERE ACTUALLY ****ING PEOPLE.


BUMPITY-BUMP-BUMP. HE DRANK MORE PROTEIN POWDER, STRAIGHT FROM THE JAR. PROTEIN IS ESSENTIAL FOR A HIGH MUSCLE MASS, AND HELPS DURING, BEFORE, AND AFTER WORKOUTS FOR A STABLE MUSCLE BUILDUP. SUCH IS WHY GREG WAS EATING IT. THROUGH HIS EYES.

 

[Pal Veda]

"Hey now," Hwo said, keeping his eyes mostly on [member="Razz Michaels"], but occasionally stealing glances at the other two. "I don't think I've accused you of anything." And this was the trouble with Nar Shaddaa. One minute you're enjoying a drink alone, looking at the glowing lights covering the cityscape, then next thing you know, some hardheaded Padawan you just met starts a fight with a crime boss and his two goons. And now he was talking about killing people? Things certainly escalated quickly.

Hwo took a last hit then put out the death stick half-way through. Like I said, he wasn't much of a smoker. "Tater...wait...what was it? [member="Tugoro Taidarious"]? Why don't you tell this fine gentleman you're sorry?" When one of the bodyguards pulled out a large knife, Hwo decided he should do the same. He rolled his shoulders back and let his cloak slide off. Once it cleared his right arm, his lightsaber hilt that he'd kept hidden in the sleeve found its way to his hand. He caught the cloak with his left hand and laid it over the balcony's railing. "Just in case," he winked at Raul.

Down below, he heard all kinds of chaos being caused by @GREG. He wished he could check it out, but getting stabbed in the back was not on his to-do list for today.

 

[Basark Blu]

He slumped down at the bar, sipping a Potwa beer. "Look at that motherfether! He needs to be in a zoo!" A Male voice called out. Basark ignored, taking another sip but then he heard laughter. Laughing at the fether who just said that? You find him funny? "Yeah man! He does need to be in a zoo, think will get paid for 'em?" A voice asked. These drunks were most likely actually being serious and personally, Basark didn't enjoy it.
He slowly rose from his seat, turning around. The two men seemed to feel fear as they looked up at Basark's rather impressive height.

"Is there a problem? I ain't too fond of this...zoo. Dogs like you, belong in a zoo", Basark called out, jabbing his index finger into one of the men's chest. "Yeah, we need to contact the zoo!" One of the drunken men shouted. Basark quickly reached down, gripping onto the man's right arm. He then sprinted forward, slamming the drunk into several barstools. The man groaned in pain as Basark released his grip, allowing him to hit the floor. Once again, he spun around, anger on his face. "As I said, is there a problem?" Basark asked, watching as the second man gripped a bar-stool, wielding it at a weapon.

Basark sighed, slowly reaching into his trenchcoat. That is when the man charged him, in a drunken sprint. Basark quickly gripped the handle of his slugthrower revolver, which was securely tucked into his shoulder. He unlatched the holster, removing the large revolver, which was already fully loaded at the time. He quickly pulled the weapon up, gripping it in his right hand only. As the man was only several steps away, Basark quickly squeezed the trigger, the barrel leveled with the man's chest. The man dropped the stool, falling to the ground. After the brutal round tore through the man's chest, he failed to move a muscle.

Basark let out another sigh, he disliked killing living, sentient creatures and preferred animals. He slid his weapon back into the holster, slumping back into his seat. He ignored the terrified looks, listening as most of the patrons retreated out into the streets.

 

[Razz Michaels]

"Tater...wait...what was it? Tugoro Taidarious? Why don't you tell this fine gentleman you're sorry?" When one of the bodyguards pulled out a large knife, Hwo decided he should do the same.

Razz noticed the man had put his saber on the balcony railing.

"Yes Mr. Taidarious, the sooner you apologize the sooner me and my men can get back to watching the oh so beautiful dancers, that you seem to like so much." He said with a smile.

Raul looked at the saber and smiled, a jedi he thought. This made him grin some more, he then looked at Hwo. "I hope to see you use that in action...your a force user mate." He said with a smile.

Zane stepped back, he was a little scared.

The commotion outside annoyed Razz, he hated yelling, he liked quiet talks and good fights.

"Does young Tygoror have a problem with the slave, on a place like Nar Shaddaa?" He said before looking between [member="Tugoro Taidarious"] and [member="Hwo"] Razz loved a good fight

 

[Tugoro Taidarious]

Tater? Tanarious? What the hell was that? Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Tugoro would cast his gaze to the floor, his eye twitching as he did so. The boy would continue to listen quietly as [member="Hwo"] and [member="Razz Michaels"] conversed, only lifting his head as the bandaged man once more mentioned the slave dancers. With the mention of Tygoror, and the slaves, the padawan had reached his final breaking point. Cocking back his arm, Tugoro aimed to build up a moderate amount of force energy in it, concentrating for a brief moment in order to gather the force. It would infuse with his body, allowing him to move at a heightened pace. Swinging his arm through the air, the boy aimed to smash his fist into the side of Razz Michaels' jaw, hoping that it would cause the man to stumble backwards.

His other arm remained relaxed at his side, for his training saber had been hiding in the jacket's sleeve. If he moved around too much, it might've fallen out. Regardless, the padawan was tired and fed up with the planet of Nar Shadaa, having encountered too many scum to count on his fingers.

 

[Basark Blu]

He took a moment to look back at the corpse on the floor, sighing. He was unaware of the brawl that was about to unfold on that balcony. He ordered another bottle of potwa, nodding towards the bartender. He took another sip, anger still on his face. He didn't want to kill those drunks, but they left him with no choice. Feeling a sudden uncontrollable wave of anger, he stood up, shattering the bottle by tossing it into the wall. He sent his foot shooting into one of the tables in the bar, knocking it over. He was angry, angry due to all of the prejudice people could be at certain moments. He walked back over to the drunk he had not shot, grabbing onto the collar of his jacket. He lifted the man up, using pure strength as he held the man only a few inches off of the floor. "GET OUTTA MY FETHING SIGHT! NO, GET OFF THE FETHING, FETHING, FETHING PLANET!" He shouted, releasing the man allowing him to fall to the floor, once more. Before the drunken man could even react, he sent his boot into the side of the man's head, causing the man's head to be bashed off of the nearby wall. He spat on the man, shouting angrily. "GET OFF OF THE PLANET, SCUM!" He shouted. It was rare that he had moments like this but he couldn't hold in his anger any longer.