The Chase

[Davon Karr]

The light down here seemed lazier, he observed. It seemed to slowly reach out through the smog, and brush up against the grimy superstructures it was supposed to illuminate.

Davon slid his plate away, and nodded for the waiter to bring him the bill. The food was also worse. Fresh food only reached the surface of Coruscant, it was flavoured artificial mulch or nothing below. The expensive favouring barely improved the dishes, Davon had found.

Whilst the structuring varied by region, Couscants thousands of levels seemed to be haphazardly were split into a number of layers. Each layer seemed to Davon to be almost a self contained world comprised of hundreds of levels, with its own transport and constructions that reached up from the ground or - where space was at a premium - down from the ceiling.

For a man who had lived in the dark ages when the hyperlanes were closed, who had grown up on a relatively sparsely populated agricultural world, Coruscant was a bit of a culture shock.

“It's a good job I'm here. Otherwise I'd be getting a call from somewhere claiming to have found my doddering great grandfather distracted by the bright lights of the city,” Brou remarked.

She was why he, and some other friends, we're here. Jess, her mother, had been training her as a bounty hunter. They'd taken on a lucrative contract on a Syndicate member, but Jess had been called to an outpost near the Republic lines. Davon had come in her stead.

“Never been to the capital before,” Davon remarked. They were down on level 1313 of Coruscant in a distinct in desperate need of repair. None wore their armour today, as they sat outside a cafe. They were waiting for a rodian contact who apparently had some information to sell. This wasn't going to be an easy job, the criminal was well defended and was kept moving between criminal safe houses.

“All you big men, try not to scare the contact off. He's of a nervous disposition anyway and the last informant who went to the authorities with some info on the target was found in eight different parts the next day.”

[member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Joanes Quez"] [member="Lok Munin"] [member="Dagon Zambrano"]

 

[Zef Halo]

1313, Coruscant

Same old, same old Coruscant. It had been over eight centuries since he had last been here and it still did not seem that it had changed at all. Surprising how it never changed its looks but how it constantly changed its seat of power. The seat that ruled the Galaxy. His job today was not meeting the Emperor in his throne room but within the lower levels of Coruscant where no throne could lay siege upon it and come out victorious. The Emperor tried for years to enforce his rule there but even his reach could not grasp the infinite levels of Coruscant's underlevels.

Now he was here hunting. Not the Emperor's enemies but the enemies of those who had credit chits. Sat all around a table outdoors of a cafe, the bounty hunters communicated between each other. Mainly those who, as far as he knew, were Mandalorians. Their fortunes had changed a lot for the last eight centuries. From a ragtag bunch of mercenaries and bounty hunters they had become a force to be reckoned with that clawed at the galaxy with its crusading talons. Dagon knew of history and knew of the Mandalorian Wars. It seemed those Mandalorians were back.

During his time as an Emperor's Hand, he had both worked with and against Mandalorians. Fearsome warriors that he respected. Their culture certainly resembled his own - warriors seeking glory in combat. The Epicanthix leaned back on his chair as two of the Mandalorians conversed. The latter of which informed the group of bounty hunters to not scare off the informant that was to arrive. That was quite important considering how evasive their target was when under pursuit of bounty hunters. The previous hunts were failures and now the employer had certainly offered a really high amount of credits for the ones around him to gather. With a silent nod and crossing his arms, Dagon acknowledged the elder Mandalorian's words.

[member="Davon Karr"]

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Corusaunt
Stardust had been to this place so many times she knew where almost every good bar and diner on most levels were. Though this time she didn't get to choose where to go more less she followed [member="Davon Karr"] to assist him on this job, no armor,, only the clothing they wore and it looked like light weapons...that being for star her sword and westar along with her nyax hand cannon

Not to be rude sir but I'm suprised someone your age hasn't been here before "she said in good humor as she looked out amongst the crowd"then again you either come here for business or a drink...that or you lose all your money and end up on a.lower level"she said and gave a chuckle

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Coruscant.

His literal homeworld.

Last time he was here he was with a lovely Sith Lord and exacting his sweet and sugary revenge on his former boss, and then went about to do some other business with the son of that said Sith. He once hated this metropolis planet, but ever since of those recent events happened he actually quite admired the planet with a sincere heart. After all, many good things had come out of this planet for the teenager and hoped that it would continue its spree.

Today he was here with a familiar Mandalorian that he was stranded with on the apocalyptic planet of Malastare. Both Mandalorians were in the same gang that competed against others in order to get off of that forsaken rock that he had no idea on how he managed to end up there. The only thing he remembered was waking up with no armor and no weapons, joining a gang with Davon, and fight for their lives to escape the Chaos from it.

And just like Malastare, he wore no armor but was armed with a blaster pistol. Why no armor? Well, apparently they were meeting someone and they didn't want to scare the guy off. And it would just be peculiar to see a bunch of armored Mandalorians sitting outside of a café down here in Level 1313 of Coruscant.

"So we're not being tricked, right," the Munin asked to the elder Mandalorian, thinking if this was some kind of trap that would leave them in a more or less dangerous state than Malastare.

[member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Dagon Zambrano"] [member="Davon Karr"]

 

[Davon Karr]

[member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Joanes Quez"] [member="Lok Munin"] [member="Dagon Zambrano"]

Brou turned to the young man, a wry smile on her face. “Don’t spoil it, I wanted to see when ba'buir would notice them.”

Davon looked over at his great granddaughter. One of the perks of his long lifespan, courtesy of morellian genes, was that he could see all the little changes over the generations. Brou had the same angular frame than Daikay had had, though she was taller than her grandmother. She had the slightly hawkish features of her mother though, the bounty hunter who had married into Davon’s ever growing family tree.

“What?” he asked bluntly.

“You’re a soldier, not a hunter. You need your eyes, not sensors. Don’t look, but there’s a reasonably well armed group of gran over the road who seem to be paying us a little bit too much attention.”

Davon didn’t look. He merely shifted his weight to feel the reassuring weight of his heavy blaster pistol on his thigh. His scattergun was in the small of his back beneath his jacket, but it wasn’t a weapon for a crowded space.

“Lad has good eyes,” Davon remarked. He’d often been their lookout in the dunes of Malastare. “Think they’re with our contact?”

“Maybe, or maybe they’re hit to bury him and anything he knows.”

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Apparently, they were being watched which the Munin took it as a bad thing. When was it ever a good thing when a group of well armed men were looking at you? The chances were slim to the boy's mind, but he wasn't going to bet his life that these armed foreigners were a good omen. Of course, he tried to pretend that everything was chill and cool, and that there really wasn't anything to worry about. Not just that, but he was battling with his curiosity of looking into the direction of the armed men.

One little peak, and things would either be in or against their favor.

Lok's right hand shifted and had a grip on the holster of his pistol. He did this in a very discreet manner, so that the element of secrecy was still on their side.

"I'm not taking any chances on this, Ramaanar. I think we should put a cap on these fethers." He wasn't in charge of making the calls and decisions, but that didn't stop him from giving suggestions to Davon that could influence in the choices he made.

[member="Davon Karr"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Dagon Zambrano"]