The End Of The Galaxy

[Chance Bonaventure]

The Outer Rim.​

Tatooine,​

Mos Espa.​

​

​

​

The planet of Tatooine had never been on Sidon's list of locations to visit. In fact, it was more likely on the list of places to avoid. It wasn't because of something trivial, like a dislike of sand, but mainly due to the fact that there was very little to warrant any reason to step foot on its hot, dry, gritty surface. Most of the population were farmers, traders or Force-knew-what, with the majority of interesting sentients only passing through. The goods were underwhelming, making any expense for travel worthless, and the technology was barely comparable to mid rim planets. Sure, there were some good points, like any out of the way planet - for example, sometimes bounties tried to visit distant planets like Tatooine, tried to disappear where no one knew their faces... which was exactly the case today.

So, despite his dislike of Tatooine generally, Sidon found himself today with two-hundred-and-fifty thousand reasons to enjoy what little it had to offer.

Dressed in his usual gear, his Jaeger Class Combat Armor, the Bounty Hunter walked down the bustling streets of Mos Espa. He watched various vendors, citizens, suspicious individuals and aliens of all kinds milling about their daily business. Some didn't so much as look at the armored being, while others were shocked and ducked out of sight. The advanced systems in Sidon's helmet made sure to capture holo-images of those that got spooked, so he could ping any outstanding bounties while in the system. It paid to be proactive, and perhaps another payday would be his if something presented itself. And while there were a few confirmations of bounties, the rewards were a little low, and a little too far out of the way.

"Excuse me," Sidon said, his voice sounding vaguely mechanical through the helmet. "I'm looking for Wattle's Cantina. Can you point me in the direction?"

A dirt-stained Dug looked up, surprised his tinkering had been interrupted. With a glance either way down the street, the odd creature barked something in a language the Bounty Hunter didn't understand, before pointing with a foot to the right. With a nod, Sidon began walking that direction, weaving through small streets and alleyways, bypassing lumbering beasts of burden, until he reached what could only be the infamous Wattle's Cantina. The drunk patrons slumped out front, face down in the sand and sun was a giveaway.

According to latest intel, he's been here waiting for some deal to go through, Sidon thought, clearing his throat as he reached a gloved hand down to rest on his pistol, unclasping the holster flap so as to draw it quickly in a pinch. Bad luck for him. Good for me.

Stepping through the large doorway of the establishment, Sidon's helmet took in the entire area immediately, the sensors and displays highlighting weapons and potential threats. It took all of several seconds for it to find his target, seated in a booth not far from the bar. While the Bounty Hunter could see his acquisition clearly enough, he couldn't make out who else was concealed further inside the hovel itself. It didn't matter, really, as Sidon began walking toward the human, stepping past a large Gamorrean bouncer.

"Hey, buddy," The barkeep called, a small, pot-bellied Toydarian - whom Sidon assumed was Wattle - pointing redundantly to the heavily armed and armored individual who just entered. "No trouble. Or Rex removes you, forcefully."

The Bounty Hunter ignored her, instead continuing his path to his target. Within moments, Sidon stood just out of arms reach of the booth, inclining his head as he looked to the other individuals seated within, drinks in hand, clearly mid-conversation...

"Jorus Merrill? My name is Sidon Eshe, and I have a bounty on you. I need you to come with me, now."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Sidon Eshe"]

A younger Jorus might have drawn down. The hunter looked middling tough, and his armor and gear alone probably weighed more than Jorus did. A couple blaster bolts to the right spot would put paid to that kind of everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach. The lightsaber in his sleeve, more so.

Two problems, though. For one, the Galactic Empire held sway over Tatooine these days, and Jorus had made himself unwelcome more than once. Visibility wouldn't do him any favors.

The other problem? Jorus just didn't feel like killing today.

He set down his mug of lum and kept his hands on the table. Across the way, Shenna'vala did her level best to look like your average twi'lek spacer, which she more or less was. His deputy chief engineer knew the score and wasn't about to escalate. Jorus focused on the hunter's opaque visor. "Won't get trouble out of me without asking for it. Which bounty's this for? I kid you not, I've lost track of which one's still current."

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Sidon couldn't help but smirk in the helmet, appreciating Jorus' witticism about not remembering the list of bounties likely associated with him. With the assistance of his helmet, the Bounty Hunter was able to keep visual on both the Corellian and the Twi'lek, the latter of whom there was limited information on. The situation didn't require her interference, and Sidon was more than happy to simply escort his acquisition out of the cantina in order to avoid any unpleasant situations.

"Individual known as the Slave has posted a listing for you," Sidon said, his eyes roaming across the three-hundred-and-sixty degree visual feed of his visor. "Two-hundred and fifty thousand credits. Delivered to a specified location for a meeting... or so I'm told."

Movement from his right, caused Sidon to grip the Hand Cannon in the holster, his stance shifting to one of more visible preparation in the same motion. He wasn't a jumpy individual, instead Sidon preferred to be prepared to react quickly and efficiently. As it was, it turned out the bouncer had arrived at the booth, clearly interested - or at least being told to be interested by his employer - in what was happening between the heavily armored Bounty Hunter and the sentients in the booth.

"You can take this outside," Wattle called, small wings flapping rapidly as she pointed a long, bony finger to the exit. "Or Rex remove you."

Sidon looked down to Jorus, hand still on the weapon on his right thigh, clearly not quite ready to lower his guard. The armored being would never let his guard down, naturally, because that's how targets got the drop on you and you ended up dead. So, between the four of them, there was something of a small stand-off, as the modulated voice activated from the Bounty Hunter's helmet again.

"I'm happy to walk out of here with my new friend and traveling companion," He said, eyes moving continuously inside the helmet, watching each of the three in rapid succession. "How about you, Merrill?"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Sidon Eshe"]

"No problem here, Rex." The bouncer had decked him once a few years back. They'd shared a drink or two since then, whenever the S.S. Wretched Hive was in town. And speaking of the mobile chop shop... "Shenna, get Darr on the horn, tell him I'll be back in a bit. Someone wants to pay a quarter mil to talk, I'm down for that." The Slave as a name rang a bell. Something about betraying the Dominion in a big fight, something else about a command ship refitted as a nightclub - Technicolor Beat had been the name, hadn't it? Hands still visible and empty, Jorus slid out of the booth. He kept his distance from Sidon so as not to be a threat.

"Full disclosure: I'm armed and have no intention of using'em. There's a blaster on my belt, a knife in my boot, and a lightsaber in my sleeve. I'm going to give Shenna the saber and my gunbelt to take back to the ship. Then I'm going to come with you, no fuss."

He meant it.

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Sidon nodded, looking to Jorus. It wasn't everyday you had a reasonable acquisition that wanted to avoid a fight. Sure, some of that decision was probably from the Corellian's past, if the history found was accurate, but also showed a logic that most didn't possess. After all, Sidon might look like a walking arsenal, but he hadn't come in threateningly - and had simply explained there was a person who wanted a meeting in a location, and wanted Sidon to deliver.

"Your honesty is appreciated," The Hunter said, his attention then shifting to Wattle, as he spoke louder. "And we were just leaving..."

Staying out of arms reach, Sidon watched as the exchange of weapons occurred. He took note of the lightsaber, using the visor to catalog the appearance, just in case details were needed at a later time. Despite the fact the Hunter could recall anything in perfect clarity, it never hurt to have imagery or scans to show others, rather than trying to explain it. There were some brief words, Sidon was mostly watching the surrounding cantina now, ensuring that the pair would be able to leave unhindered. When Jorus was ready, they both began leaving, Sidon walking behind, hand still resting loosely on the hand cannon against his right thigh; and while the Corellian had handed over his weaponry, there was still the matter of the Force and any potential for ambushes or backup from any other crew members he may have... so Sidon wasn't about to get chummy and act like they were friends, because they had a reasonably courteous meeting moments ago.

"My ship is in bay two-two-seven," Sidon said, motioning in the direction. Jorus was a smart guy, he more than likely knew where he was going. "If we keep this up, I'm willing to let you remain unrestrained in the ship. But you'll still be under guard. Just more comfortable."

Out in the bright sun and sand, with the maze of round and domed buildings spreading in every direction, Sidon had a real time of keeping eyes on as much as possible. Not only did he have to watch Jorus, but he also had to make sure no surprises were waiting for him - or them. There was every possibility that overlapping bounties could result in a stand off, with other Hunters wanting to claim the second bounty of one-hundred thousand credits, and a weird ceremonial dagger; Sidon didn't know, he didn't care, the contract wasn't ideal and he doubted the knife could do what the client said it could.

"Up ahead, take a right, it's quicker," Sidon mentioned, smirking. Again, Jorus had a reputation for knowing directions, finding his way. "Sure you knew that, though--"

A quick, bright flash of lens was all the warning Sidon had. A second later, the air filled with a stream of blaster bolts from up on a nearby rooftop. Activating the shield system on his armor, the Hunter stepped between the hail of fire and his acquisition, the round energy bubble shimmering and sparking as the hits landed. Zooming in with his helmet, Sidon growled as he caught a clear view of the individual firing the weapon, his scarred features unmistakable...

"Sithspit," Sidon cursed, looking back to Jorus as he motioned to a nearby alleyway. "We've got trouble. Head into the alleyway!"

Pulling his Vora Hand Cannon from his holster, Sidon turned, crouched and took up a steady firing stance. Aiming with both hands on the weapon grip, he waited, watching as the shield continued to absorb impact, slowly losing power... and when there was a pause in the overhead barrage, the shield lowered, and Sidon began firing back. The Vora was a shatter gun type, and was loaded with flash bang rounds - and with several pulls of the trigger, the rooftop sniper had more than projectiles to deal with, as the rounds exploded and threw white-bright flashes over the position. Turning and moving into a run, Sidon followed Jorus into the alleyway, the Hunter's speed seeming impossible in the combat armor, likely dashing any hopes the Corellian had of making a run for it - as clearly Sidon could run faster than the average human.

"That shooter is bad news. His name is Lodo, he's a Hunter, but he's not in the Guild and he certainly isn't interested in bringing acquisitions in alive," He said quickly, pulling the disruptor rifle from his shoulder, holding it in one hand as he reached out with the Vora, offering it to the Corellian. "If he's here, he's brought friends. This is loaded with flash bang rounds, non-lethal. You lead, I'll finish up anyone you tag... and if you were planning something, trust me, now is not the time. This guy makes a habit of collateral damage, and he will kill anyone and everyone to get to his target."

Sidon felt he didn't need to elaborate, as the streets began to fill with rushing civilians and screams. Opening fire on the streets with a repeater blaster tended to do that. While the situation wasn't ideal, even Sidon wasn't egocentric enough to believe he could handle Lodo and his whole crew alone, while keeping an acquisition alive and unharmed. It wasn't possible, not without injury surely occurring. So now it was in Jorus' hands as to whether they continued their courteous relationship, and tried to avoid innocents getting caught up in the mess Lodo presented; or if Jorus wanted to try something else, which would end badly for a lot of people...

[member="[COLOR=rgb(122,152,162)]Jorus Merrill[/COLOR][/SIZE]"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

In a number of small ways, Jorus became aware that Sidon was the kind of man who preferred to keep the upper hand by all necessary means. Then again, who else would choose bounty hunting as a profession? Heck, he'd had similar inclinations as a young man - even brought in a bounty or two as opportunity allowed. At some level he'd loved chasing down targets through hyperspace, jump after jump. Maybe some days he still did.

He accepted the pistol without comment and stepped out of the alley, then stepped back instantly. A disruptor beam slashed past his face with the backstep; another chewed through the wall behind him. A quick hustle took him behind a moisture vaporator, a heartbeat ahead of repeater fire. Someone screamed just out of his field of vision, but that sure wasn't a death-scream and a stray repeater round wouldn't kill by itself.

Jorus snapped off a couple of flashbangs in the general direction of unpleasantness - the repeater and the disruptor. Though any Corellian liked a reputation as a gunslinger, Jorus could admit that he wasn't the greatest shot in the 'verse. Sidon could probably compensate, though. The flashbang rounds gave general direction, and the incoming fire helped plenty. Repeater shots tended to look like a firework spray, bright and haphazard and deeply indicative of where they'd started. At a guess, that particular hunter would drop in five seconds or less.

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Sidon followed Jorus' lead, and consequently stumbled backward as he jerked back, avoiding a flurry of fire from the exit to the alleyway. Keeping his cool, the Corellian fired in the directions he saw the threats, lighting those areas up with bright flashes. The Bounty Hunter activated a system within his helmet, his eyes accessing the visor menu through rapid blinks and movements. From his back a small round, flat droid ejected and began flying up into the air. Keeping just even with the building tops, so as to avoid being shot by any roof dwelling enemies.

"Lock them in, droid," Sidon said, his helmet sharing the command despite his not speaking to Jorus. "Activate HUD targeting link."

Within the helmet, the droids sensory feeds, as well as the advanced HUD, lit up with red boxes throughout the area. Several enemies were circulating through the streets, armed with blasters of various assortments. Knowing where his targets now were, thanks to the low-reflective droid overhead, Sidon stepped out, aiming in two directions - he fired the disruptor rifle at the human with the repeater blaster who was making his way along the wall to enter the alleyway where the pair were. The powerful gas projections tore through the man, causing him to scream; at the same time, the other arm fired a small but powerful wrist laser, which seared through the other disruptor wielding enemy's forehead.

They look like mercenaries... no real Hunter would be this unprepared. Weapons help you survive, but armor is life.

Continuing his motion, Sidon ducked low as blaster bolts began to crisscross through the street. His rifle was made for close range, so he had to keep moving, making it to the next alleyway on the opposite side of Jorus. Turning, the Bounty Hunter motioned, holding his hand up with three fingers - and with a very obvious countdown, lowered each one until he had a raised fist. At which point, Sidon hoped Jorus ran and fired, because the Hunter planned on laying down some cover fire with the wrist blaster at the several enemies that were approaching from the south, where the repeater blaster mercenary had been. And peeking around the corner, Sidon did just that, unleashing with a flurry of narrow blasts from his outstretched arm gauntlet...

[member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Sidon Eshe"]

The situation pretty clearly required a leapfrog approach, cover and run, cover and run, so it wasn't hard to guess what Sidon meant by the timer. Jorus bolted south, moving by instinct. As a knot of blaster bolts converged where his center of mass should be, he skidded into a shockball slide. Grit rasped on his skin right through the bloodstripe trousers. He wound up in cover behind a watering trough for rontos and dewbacks. The trough was empty just now, the graywater stored underground to avoid transpiration loss. Even without the water's bulk, the wall of the trough offered decent protection.

He needed it. Blasters hammered at the sandstone trough. Wouldn't take long, either. Fortunately, Sidon seemed competent.

Less fortunately, they had maybe five minutes until a stormtrooper squad arrived to arrest the survivors with extreme prejudice.

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Watching the blaster bolts hammer into the trough, Sidon knew Jorus had a few minutes - if that - before those bolts started peppering him. Knowing that Lodo wasn't far away, Sidon had to act quickly to ensure they could both escape. More than likely local enforcement weren't far behind, either, and that was the second-last thing the pair wanted. On these backwater worlds, being tangled with the local garrisons usually meant a very expensive bribe, or you were held with the key being thrown away, until someone paid it for you.

Nonetheless, Sidon planned to be gone before both Lodo and the bucket-heads appeared.

Crouching, the Bounty Hunter suddenly jumped, high enough to grasp onto the side of the building and pull himself onto the roof. He had cleared double his height, seemingly easily. Running at speed along the crumbling, sun-baked clay, Sidon soon had a closer flank on the remaining mercenaries. They were using cover well, but when someone with a great aim was on your side, it didn't matter - and no sooner had Sidon slid to a stop, kicking up dust and sand, than he opened fire with the wrist laser. The narrow beam shot out repeatedly, surprisingly powerful for such a small weapon, and capable of making the distance of a blaster rifle. It had been a very sound investment, clearly, as the armed sentients each fell to the ground in succession; one managed to get some shots off at the flanker, but they were panicked and inaccurate, before he also died.

Sliding off the roof, Sidon began making his way back to Jorus, also reaching down to scoop up a blaster rifle. It had range, decent stopping power, and would serve them better or now than a close-quarters shatter gun. As he neared the Corellian, the Bounty Hunter shouldered his disruptor rifle, nodding. He looked over the trough, helmeted head inclined.

"Ready? Let's mo--"

The area filled up with repeater blaster fire, Sidon taking several hits to his armored back with a grunt. Rolling over the trough, the Hunter landed with a thud of metal and weapons beside his acquisition - and with a glance to Jorus, sighed. Lodo had arrived, and from the surrounding visual aide of his HUD, Sidon knew he was where the last mercs had died. Sidon rolled up into a sitting position, gripping the blaster rifle before he motioned for the alleyway on the route to the hangar bay.

"I'll cover you... go!"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Sidon Eshe"]

"Force says no," Jorus grunted, spitting dust. "Gimme a sec." There were shorter ways of saying 'instinctive navigation suggests finding a different route due to unknown complications along the suggested course,' but not many. At a guess, Lodo and company had tracked down Sidon's ship - not hard on Tatooine - and knew approximately which way Sidon and Jorus would go. Or, potentially, the stormtroopers were in play down there.

Crouched behind a gigantic trough with a partially hostile supersoldier, with blasterfire about to punch through his cover, Jorus fought for clarity. He let out a deep, sandy breath and called on the Force for a way to get out of the situation safely, with minimal risk to bystanders. And the Force answered.

Maybe Sidon would be able to follow him, maybe not. Jorus found he didn't care. You didn't abandon the man beside you, but things were a little different when you were the cargo.

The blasterfire lessened for a critical moment as two or three hunters reloaded. Jorus dropped the hand cannon and scrambled over the ridge. Superheated, broken sandstone warmed him right through his vest and shirt, and he smelled burnt hair. Two meters in front of his face was the graywater entry/exit, a broad and clotted grate half blown off the wall of the trough. Jorus skidded in the muck, braced his feet against the wall, hooked his fingers through the grate, and applied consistent pressure with his legs. A couple of heartbeats tore the grate free, and then he was gone.

A pump line ran along the top of the descending channel. He kept a grip on it as he slid down into thigh-high graywater. The tank had another entrance: a top-up pipe leading to the port consumables stockpile. As long as nobody decided to water a herd of banthas, Jorus wouldn't, well, drown.

A handful of seconds after vanishing into the drain, he was scrambling into that top-up line and heading for the spaceport.

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Sidon paused, weary of the mention of the Force, and being told what to do by some mystical energy; especially when that command was coming from someone he didn't know, and barely trusted with a non-lethal weapon. Still, Jorus had yet to prove he had anything but the intention he claimed, so the Bounty Hunter went against his instincts and waited. As the Corellian made his move when the blasters had to reload, Sidon moved up and aimed over the half-melted trough - he began firing rapidly with the blaster rifle, putting down as much cover fire as he could, trying to give Jorus the time he needed to... pull open a grate?

I have a bad feeling about this, Sidon thought to himself, as he watched the human disappear within the newly made opening.

Knowing time was short, Sidon reached down and grabbed the discarded hand cannon, shoving it back into his holster and clasping it, before he also rolled over cover and went for the grate. Sliding to the opening, the blaster fire had resumed, peppering around him. Grabbing the grate with his spare hand, the Bounty Hunter pulled hard and jammed the metal covering back into place as he passed into the opening; it crunched home, the physicality of the pull causing it to dig into the building side and stay firm. Releasing, Sidon slid down the piping in the Corellian's wake, landing with a splash as he hit the water at the bottom. Thankfully the helmet and armor kept any smells or undesirable bacteria from touching him.

Sidon felt a small pang of guilt for Jorus. But it passed. This was his idea.

Following, Sidon's HUD still showed him what was happening outside the grate thanks to his droid that was still maintaining an elevated position. He saw a crazed Lodo kicking at it, unable to make it move to pursue. He saw the mercenaries standing near their leader, and he also saw a squadron of Stormtroopers approaching down the street. With a smirk, Sidon began climbing the top-up line behind Jorus, thankful that his armor was sealed and proofed against various elements and environs - otherwise the result could have been bad.

​

"Punch it, Vena!" Sidon called as the pair run up the ramp way to the Crossfire, the Bounty Hunter's personal ship. It was a modified Marauder-Class vessel, made to be around half the size, but larger than a freighter for various reasons. "Head for the Beat. Lodo showed up."

Pointing to Jorus, Sidon motioned for the Corellian to take a seat in the lounge. It wasn't much, basically a long seat against the wall for passengers during take-off. There were very little luxuries in the stark, almost sterile interior of the ship.

"I'm aware, I was monitoring your progress," Vena replied from the cockpit. She was a human, blond hair, pretty face. She knew her business and she was a damn fine pilot. "Pre-flight has already been completed, transport authority contacted and departure approved... strap in, please."

Standing in the doorway to the cockpit and the passenger area, Sidon instead reached out and grasped the edge of the opening. A small whir sounded from his boots, as they locked onto the metallic flooring. He would be fine. As the ramp began to close, the small disc-shaped droid zipped inside, before returning to latch onto the back of Sidon's armor with a beep and whiz. No sooner was the little party settled than they were making for atmosphere, and soon after that had entered hyperspace...

Turning around, finally free to move, Sidon looked to Jorus. "We'll be arriving at the client's personal craft soon," He said, nodding to the Corellian. "Are you injured? Do you need anything, refreshment perhaps?"

It was odd playing host. Most trips with acquisitions were... quieter, stasis-cage in the back of the ship quiet.

"It won't be long."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Sidon Eshe"]

"What I need," Jorus said, unbuckling the straps, "is a shower and a medkit. You might have a mask but Miz Vena doesn't. Never a good idea, pissing off the pilot, and right now I smell unique." Skidding around in sand had given him a few minor scrapes, but even abrasions didn't play nice with old trough water. Ronto mouths were downright unhygienic, even by Jorus' standards.

"And, know what, forget the medkit. Too many exploits. Antiseptic's plenty." He stood and cracked his neck. "Don't know this boat's layout. Which way's the 'fresher?"

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

"Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem," Sidon nodded, as he glanced over his shoulder to Vena. "We'll get you sorted out for the meeting."

Without a word, Vena stood up and walked out of the cockpit. She motioned to a corridor that led out of the area, and then began leading the way. She walked briskly, face almost sullen. Behind them, Sidon walked toward a different corridor, which passed into his quarters; the Corellian would be led to the crew quarters, which was basic but had what they needed. Mostly. It certainly didn't lack, at any rate.

Vena stopped at another door. She pressed the button and it opened quickly with a rush of air.

"You will find all you need in the hyrdo-cubicle. If you leave your clothing at the door, I will clean and dry them for you."

The blond woman waited, giving away very little behind her gaze. She did offer a faint smile however, just to help put the Corellian at ease. The drying unit would work quickly, and the clothing would be prepared by the time Jorus had finished washing and taking care of his wounds...

[member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Sidon Eshe"]

The sonic shower took care of the grime, but irritated the abrasions on his palms, knees, forearms, and assorted other spots. On the plus side, that meant he knew exactly what areas needed the antiseptic cream. He found basic bandages - Sidon probably went through them like water - and covered the stinging portions of his body. He slathered antiseptic on his palms last, and wrapped both hands firmly up to the first knuckle. Not true handwraps, but they'd offer enough stability to strengthen a punch if needed. Otherwise, the available medical supplies had no easy exploits. Good: while hijacking a corvette with a medkit sounded like fun, he'd had enough fun for one day. That, and - while only an absolute idiot would retain a competent, aware professional like Vena and keep cameras in the 'fresher - Vena or a droid could easily have concealed monitoring equipment of some kind before he got here. Rooting around in the 'fresher's circuits just wasn't going to happen.

He emerged to find his battered clothes clean and folded, and made sure to thank Vena for the courtesy. Weren't many pilots who'd do a guest's laundry. Sidon had to be paying her a mint.

In his transit through the ship, he'd become aware that his sense of direction no longer worked as advertised. Ysalamiri effects covered at least part of this ship. Good to know. In short order he approached Sidon nevertheless.

"Hi, Dad. Are we there yet?"

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Sidon didn't like the idea of allowing Jorus the opportunity to use the refresher, but he also didn't want the man to stink of a Tatooine sewer for his meeting. Besides, if he tried anything, there was an assortment of defenses and systems in place to effectively keep him contained in the small chamber, until such time as the collective crew stormed it and brought Merrill down; and considering the ship had been made for containing all sorts of prisoners, including Forcers, Sidon was confident Jorus knew his position on another sentient's ship. And if there was any doubt, Sidon could always call on the Southstar-Class Battle Droid to make itself known and stand constant guard while utilizing a Ysalamir...

Having cleaned up himself, including washing off his armor, Sidon walked out of his quarters once more dressed in his combat armor head-to-toe. The only individual to have seen him outside of it was Vena, and the Bounty Hunter knew she wouldn't mention anything to anyone. And knowing the human female had the situation handled, Sidon walked to the cockpit and slumped down in the co-pilot chair, ready to revert from hyperspace...

Meanwhile, Vena smiled and accompanied Jorus back to the front of the ship. She could confirm that washing up had vastly improved his state, and with the cleaned clothing he was well-suited for the meeting about to take place. As the pair returned, Vena held back a laugh at the quip the Corellian made, as she took her seat in the pilot's chair and nodded to Sidon; who in turn stood, knowing he was no longer needed to man the controls of the ship, and stood a short distance from Jorus, maintaining a loose guard.

"We should be arriving--"

"Reverting to real-space," Vena said simply, pulling the hyperdrive lever.

"--shortly..."

As Vena began hailing the large starship in front of them, the triangular shape of the Technicolor Beat was unmistakable, boasting a length of no less than three-thousand meters. Clearing his throat, Sidon glanced to Jorus. "It's been a pleasure, Merrill, but this is where we part ways." And with deft hands moving over the controls, Vena brought the considerably smaller corvette in to dock. There was little ceremony, and after a short moment, the ramp way descended and Sidon escorted Jorus to meet the individual who had placed the contract, disruptor rifle once again in hand...

[member="Jorus Merrill"], [member="The Slave"]​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Technicolor Beat, her elongated form an attractive blackness against the starry sky of the galaxy wide. Bluish hues and orange streaks were the only thing that identified her in the vast darkness, but it was enough for any to witness the true scale of which she was. A massively modified battlecruiser flown system to system as a personal nightclub for nearly forty thousand strong. An elite club, it was still one that held a rampant reputation for what came to be known as debaucherous parties.

Once docked, the two were met by a small squad of Southstar Class Battle Droids, each carrying a series of Disruptor rifles with the faint insignia of Jaeger Solutions; another company mostly founded on the holonet. Perhaps a dozen total, but enough to make sure there would be no interruptions from neither the party goers only a few feet away, nor anyone else that may seek trouble. The first of which who approached lit up as a female voice spoke over the digital vocalizer;

“Welcome back, Sidon. Enjoy your trip?”, Cybele offered him through the robotic puppet.

Her voice, although synthesized, seemed to almost smile in tone; betrayed only by the militarized posture of the disruptor wielding bodyguard. Regardless of his response to her, the group would begin to be led down the various hallways opposite of the nightclub in the rear of the vessel. The resounding bass and general murmur of a massive crowd faded section by section, until completely faded in the distance. Only then did Cybele speak up once more, quieting the humming she did to fill the sudden silence.

“John will be in the next room. Please, for everyone’s sake, speak in a low tone. He’s been under the weather lately.”, she said, almost mother like.

The droids seemed to take position outside the room as the door unsealed and opened, a faint whirring of its engine signalling their entrance. The room in question was dark, almost dangerously so, and a seeping energy from across the room would fill at least Jorus’s sensibilities. In a chair, the source become obvious as The Slave looked up from his position; the faint glow of yellow eyes peeking through a gloved hand.

He seemed annoyed.

[member="Sidon Eshe"] │ [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="The Slave"] [member="Sidon Eshe"]

Jorus, who didn't have anything like the normal Force senses, felt nothing but curiosity and mild apprehension. The former, as usual, overruled the latter. He spotted the outline of another chair, and sat down uninvited. His boot found what seemed like a coffee table, and he propped up his feet on it, lacing his fingers across his stomach.

"Take it from an old alcoholic, kid: hangovers are ninety percent dehydration."

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

"It was eventful," Sidon nodded to the Battle Droid as it spoke using Cybele's voice, which had become more familiar since working with Jaeger Solutions and the AI for various contracts. "But here we are, as promised."

When the other pair began talking, the Bounty Hunter simply remained quiet. Now was the time for business, and he knew when to let the galaxy changers discuss things. So following their leads, Sidon kept to himself, watching the dancing crowds as they made their way to a personal area. Once inside, the Hunter stepped to his right and took a post beside the door; he kept his disruptor rifle handy, held loosely in both hands across his chest.

Without moving, Sidon listened and waited for things to begin...

[member="Jorus Merrill"], [member="The Slave"]​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave took a moment to close his eyes and rub his temple, and obvious attempt at alleviating some annoyance, or pain. After a long second passed, he eventually opened his eyes again with a slight sigh, one faint enough that it could be barely heard over the artificial blower enabling each of them to be comfortable in the synthetic environment. Readjusting in his seat, he began to speak to Jorus with those faintly glowing sulphuric eyes watching him;

“This one’s more like thirty-five percent.”, he said with a subtle smile.

“You’re Jorus I presume?”, he said, somewhat confident he was delivered the wrong person by some obscene turn of events.

“Of course you are, what am I even asking?”, he finished as his fingers moved back to his temple to massage gently.

“Jorus, what do you know of Velok The Younger? You realize he has a price on your head, correct?”

No beating around the bush here, it seems.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] │ [member="Sidon Eshe"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="The Slave"]

"I know I work for the Outer Rim Coalition, and they've crossed him and he's crossed them. Think we impounded his ship and he rewired some gladiator droids to shred a city. Don't remember much else. Now, his daddy, he and I had a little history, but that's stardust in the rearview."

Jorus took his boots down, rested his elbows on his knees, and met the Slave's eyes.

"I also know he's the Sith Lord that took the whole Sith heartland from the Silver Jedi, and if he really wanted me, I'd be dead or that bounty would have a lot more zeros attached. Fether's just playing games. Two peas in a pod, you."