Topic: New Boards, New RPG! - The Promised Jewel

Surely with the launch of the new boards we should have a new RPG, I'll get the ball rolling...

Luxury ship, the Promised Jewel, has been lost to space for 20 years. It has only been spotted twice since it's disappearance and those who have claimed to have seen it have been unable to capture it. It is rumoured to be at the edge of the galaxy, drifting closest to Tatooine.

Many seek the Promised Jewel as it contained the riches of a banished Falleen aristocrat, Tulk Ettin. At this moment Jabba the Hutt is recruiting those he thinks suitable to find the ship and bring it to him untouched. The reward is one million credits.

The Rules:

1. You may create any character you want. But please have some variety and clarify their name and species so others can follow their actions easily.

2. You can kill characters you create but you can't kill other people's characters unless they say they have been killed in battle with you. However you can wound them...

3. You can have any weapon you want but you can only have what your character could physically carry - otherwise they wouldn't be able to move.

4. Be consistent, eg if someone says they blew up a building, don't suddenly be assaulting it.

5. If you have sustained many wounds you will have to either get medical help or eventually die.

6. Follow the storyline, sure add a few twists and turns but allow others to see where you want to go so they can help you get there.

7. Have fun.

-

Lula Trask was sure to don her armour and helmet before entering Jabba the Hutt's palace, she wasn't stupid enough to show her pretty face before the fat slug. She knew the Hutt's tastes towards beauty and how those who possessed it ended up as Rancor food or worse.

Lula adjusted the bronzed coloured armour, the mirrored face plate hung almost to her chest concealing her neck as well as her face. She wasn't about to let her green skin show through. She had an advantage on this hunt, being Falleen. She knew the history of the Promised Jewel and that was information she wasn't about to share.

As she walked to the large door, it opened freely. Obviously Jabba had the robotic eye-stalk programmed to let her in no fuss, for a change. Jabba's Twi-lek majordomo greeted her in his snivelling manner and directed her to the main chamber, she made sure she wasn't standing on the trap door in front of the slug's throne.

She eyed the inhabitants within. There was the usual scum that followed power as well as those who suffered bloodlust as badly as Jabba. It didn't particularly surprise her to see a line up of other hunters. But the absence of Boba Fett was a little unnerving.

Lula found an appropriate place to wait, the fat one was not on his throne. Apparently there were others to come.

Cato was standing up in a crowd inside Jabba's palace. Aliens all over the galaxy were around, some getting drunk, others just hanging out. And still, there were others who had come for the same reason he had. To gain the details on this bounty. He had been there for a while... He didn't know the exact time, but he could estimate it had been around an hour.

This is a waste of my time... But this gem's value probably makes up for that...

Cato was a Chiss. Chiss were identified by their pale blue skin and glowing rred eyes. His parents had been exiled from their homeworld which was in the outer regions. Soon after he was born, his parents had been killed. He grew up in a neutral society being silent, watching and learning, waiting for oppurtunities. Though he hadn't been raised by Chiss, he still gained their attributes. He was cold and keniving, planning three steps ahead. It was all like a game of holo chess in his mind.

Cato wasn't a very old Chiss. He was only 26. (Using the basic Coruscanti year.) He wore a white shirt and black pants, and he wore a red jacket over that. He carried a few weapons, but not so many that they would way him down too much. You really only need one weapon to go into battle with. But he still needed the essentials. He had a vibro blade and a blaster pistol hanging from his belt. He also carried a rifle in his ship incase he needed it.

Speaking of his ship, it was a Corellan YT-2400 class. He tried to make it as efficient as possible, but not at the expense of the inside decorations. The ship was where he lived. He wouldn't want to live in a cargo hold without even a bed. He had chairs, and colors, and artwork all about the inside. He enjoyed studying even the most miniscule detail in a peice of artwork.

Cato realized he was only breathing out of his mouth. The place smelled horrible. It was probably the mix of drinks from all over the galaxy, the smell of smoking death sticks, the rotten creatures around him, or all of the above... Even breathing out of his mouth was hard.

I hope that Hutt decides to start this thing soon...

He then realized he was worrying, he was torturing himself...

No, I shouldn't think like that. The Hutt will decide to start it when he does. In the meantime I should find something to do that could help the future mission.

He looked into the crowd. A normal sentient being would have trouble concetrating on just one person here. Cato had that advantage over them... He looked around to find someone that looked like a bounty hunter... That wasn't very hard of course. Bounty Hunters from all over the galaxy were here to participate in this hunt. So, Cato studied them...

He saw a Gand, a Rodian, a large man in armor, there were so many others as well. He studied each with careful intuition, mentally trying to forget the horrible smells and anticipation of the Hutt. Studying his opponets would allow him to predict his opponet's moves...

And just what are you gawking at? Mikel thought to himself as he observed an open mouthed Chiss surveying the room.

While it was a fact that Mikel was indeed a large man, he wasn't overly concerned by it. Years of drunken debauchery in Jabbas Palace had turned his once athletic figure into the state that it was today, but he had never lost his touch with the blaster that was always strapped to his portly thigh.

Being a human in an alien world certainly made it hard to blend into the background, but that had never been Mikels way. Hiding in plain sight was a skill that he had managed to perfect over the years, and those who were looking for him soon found the business end of his blaster. While some enemies may have gotten a glancing shot off before they were despatched he always had the protection of his re-sprayed drab-green stormtrooper armor just in case. He had only been able to scavenge the shoulder and chest armor in the Dune Sea, but one of these days he would complete the set... if only he could find the remains of an equally portly trooper.

"We're wasting valuable drinking time here..." Mikel mumbled to himself. The Chiss in the red jacket had finally stopped eying him, and both turned their attention to a disturbance just outside the audience chamber...

Sitting at the gaming table just inside the entry to the audience chamber, Jin heard the distinctive sound of laser fire, felt a strange ripple in the force, and knew trouble was on the way.  He should be reaching for a blaster, or his saber, but in his hands he held an Idiot’s Array, and in that numinous part of his black soul that touched the many currents of past present and future that circulated in any one moment of time, he knew the Sabacc Switch was about to come. The two pots were enough to pay off any of his outstanding debts, with some to spare.

Jin put the trouble on hold. He could get to his weapons quick enough if need be. It was the pot that counted.  His future that mattered.  “I call.”

The dealer droid echoed his words in a mechanical grind, the players at the table got ready to show their hands, Jin got ready to rake in his fortune and save his dark arse, when all hell broke loose.

Two grubby human bodies came flying into the audience hall. One held a blast pistol and fired wildly as he sailed through free space. He careened into an assembled trio of Transdoshans, two of whom crashed back onto the drinks table occupied by a pair of nasty looking Barabels. The reptiles immediately started to mix it up in a twisted, destructive brawl, drawing the nearby guests and patron’s of Jabba’s into their frenzied orbit.

The second human skidded to a halt near Jin, catching the attention of the gamers, and the dealer droid. The human righted himself, made to aim, and was hit full front with a powerful laser blast from the armored being now standing in the arched entry.  The blast zipped through the weak, unprotected flesh, and nailed the dealer droid. Shrapnel flew in a thousand different directions and the game was forgotten for the moment as the players dived for safety.  Forgotten by all players, save one.  Jin rolled to safety, ducked and covered, but when he looked up to see the shreds of the table, the fried pot, he saw only his future dwindling into nothing.  So much for the Idiot’s Array.

While the others recovered, Jin jumped to his feet, blaster already in hand. Rage seeped in around the walls he’d worked so hard to maintain, blinding his mind to all but the most murderous of thoughts. Someone needed to die.  The one responsible for this loss had to pay.

Jin looked to the being, the one standing in the archway, a lone silhouette against the shadows and darkness of the palace corridors. Somehow, by the favor of the maker or the dumb luck of a fool, good sense beat back the fury, and clarity set in. Jin blinked, shook his head, then blinked again. He’d need to find another way to slake his blood lust, another way to score enough quick credits to pay his debts and buy some much needed anonymity.  He lowered his arm, sheathed his blaster, and shelved his baser desires for vengeance.  A prudent man didn’t tangle lightly with that kind of barve standing proud at the entrance to this particular hive of scum and villainy, not unless he was prepared to reap the worst consequence could offer.

Cato heard noises; it sounded as if a fight had broken loose. It was no big surpirise, brawls would happen in places like these all the time. Usually it was due to greed or revenge. That was the problem with humans and other similar species. They just couldn't control themselves. That is what made places like these bad to hang out in. You make one wrong move and an angry mob will form and hunt you down.

Cato looked up again to the Hutt's throne. Jabba was still not there. Bib Fortuna, his Twil'ek majordomo was welcoming other bounty hunters in.

Will he start once the lines get shorter?

Cato was once again drifting off into impatience... He decide to observe the structure of the building.

It was definately not the most beautiful palace Cato had ever been to. It was probably the opposite of. It was filthy and smelly, and just plain horrible. Cato was not familiar with the design, but he assumed it was either a Hutt style or something from the native Jawas or Tusken Raiders. There weren't many doors. Mostly just large arches that led to hallways and such. He walked over to one of the hallways and observed the entrance. The arch was much more dusty than the others and din't have nearly as much filth and grease on it.

It mustn't be used as often as the others...

He walked down it, and it got a little more quiet, but there wasn't anything to see. It just led to some storage. He decided to walk back to the throne room...

This time there was some entertainment going on. A musical band was playing and some female Twil'eks and other species were dancing in the center. It was nice to have some music. It was something to concetrate on. The music was complex, from the style, Cato could tell it was written by a Bith.

Where is Yarna tonight? Mikel thought to himself. I haven't seen her since Oola disappeared

While Mikel was not attracted to Yarna D'al Gargan at any biological or emotional level, he found himself mesmerised whenever she was dancing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but noticed that he wasn't the only male who suddenly appeared whenever she hit the floor...

Boba Fett lowered his blast rifle. The human male in the dark robes had sheathed his blaster and was no longer a threat.  Besides, no one was paying Fett to kill the lanky, black haired kid, so he didn’t want to waste the energy blast. 

He surveyed his work, satisfied he’d met the terms of the ridiculous contract. The Hutt insisted it be completed prior to the start of the main hunt, and since Fett had time to kill, he’d taken on the job.  And, as always, he’d completed it, as requested, on deadline.

The one bounty was dead, shot, per Jabba’s request, inside the audience hall.  The other bounty, the Hutt wanted alive. Currently, the man was being stomped by an angry Transdoshan.  Fett crossed the audience hall and waded into the fray, back handing creatures of all manner of species, until he reached the unlucky Transdoshan. He drove his fist into the soft side of the creature’s gut, then released a dart full of fast acting soporific at point blank range. The powerful shot was doubled by the proximity to the target. It tore through the tight spacesuit weave and hit home.  Fett watched with satisfaction as the lizard’s yellow eyes widened, then, closed.  He gave the creature a nudge, and it fell with a dull thud to the filthy duracrete floor.

Fett collared his merchandise. It was barely conscious, and offered no fight as he dragged it across the floor and dropped it at the foot of Jabba’s throne.  The Hutt had yet to make his appearance. Fett cradled his blast rifle, and took up vigil over the prostrate merchandise.  Jabba loved theatrics and drama, no doubt the Hutt was waiting for the arrival of the remainder of hopeful hunters to fill his hall before making a grand entrance.

The Gamorrean palace guards had joined the fight, subduing the rowdy participants with stun clubs and a few well placed blows from the hafts of vibro-axes.  From the read out of the room displayed inside his helm, Fett took the opportunity to study the crowd and assess the competition.  Jabba used his hunts as a source of entertainment, and judging by the players who’d arrived so far, this hunt promised maximum return. One million credits was a strong lure.  There were some serious contenders lurking in shadows, and some serious contenders standing in plain view.  And then, there were the unknowns: those hunters who had yet to show, and those who were not hunters, but would join the game for the chance of a lifetime. Beneath his visor the faintest smile twitched on his lips as he warmed to the challenge. Fett didn’t care for drama, but he was always up for a good fight.

Lula felt strangely at ease as Boba Fett made a dramatic entrance. It wasn't so much the company but the reassurance that this was a big bounty and the big players were in. She had noticed that Dengar has joined the group, although he hung back in the shadows, there were whispers that IG-88 was currently under repair and would not be joining them. 4-LOM and Zuckuss were also absent but were expected to arrive.

Fett's antics seemed to attract the Hutt as a procession of servants and slaves made way for the wide one's arrival. Lula shuffled back and bumped shoulders with a dark haired human, she gave a nod of greeting but didn't apologise. Such gestures were seen as weakness in Jabba's domain.

Lula rested a gloved hand on her blaster pistol that lay holstered against her thigh, she didn't want it stolen. It also gave her a menacing look that she wished to portray.

The slug came into view and Lula felt her upper lip twist into a snarl. She hated Hutts, they really were the scum of the universe. She looked forward to depleting the creature of his credits or even better, his prize.

A lull came over the scum and villany within the Palace's walls. As Jabba was positioned into place he began to laugh as he saw the pathetic figure Fett had left before his throne. Lula hit the translation switch on the side of her helmet as the Hutt began to speak.

"So, Boba Fett, you have brought me a trophy." The Hutt said before he laughed some more. "It appears it was too easy. I only offer you ten thousand credits for this bounty."

Fett's blaster came up so fast that even Lula didn't realised the hunter had moved. "Thirty thousand was the deal."

The Hutt waved an unconcerned chubby arm, "Deals are meant to be renegotiated."

Fett's thumb subtly moved the setting from stun to kill on the blaster. "The time for negotiating is over."

The Hutt laughed once again. "You drive a hard bargain, bounty hunter. Twenty then."

Fett fired a warning shot that barely missed the fat slug's head. There was shuffling from the guards but they quickly realised their error. Fett shot one and the others quickly fell back.

"Fine. You'll send me to ruin, bounty hunter." Jabba hissed but waved over a reluctant droid. "Pay him." Jabba rumbled.

Fett took his reward and started to leave.

"I'm not finished with you yet, bounty hunter." Jabba told.

Fett merely paused where he was as Zuckass stumbled in.

Lula released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. She felt the tension in the air and it wasn't about to clear. She eyed the occupants of the room. The bounty hunters seemed to have come to the fore. There were a lot she didn't recognise. There was a large human male who seemed impatient with the whole atmosphere and a young Chiss who looked totally out of his element. Obviously the large bounty had brought out all the hunters out to play.

The large gatropod had finally made it. Cato was surprised the thing could still move it was so large. It made the already bad smelling air smell even worse...

Cato looked at Fett. He had heard the stories of him, Boba was supposedly the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. The stories were not far off from his actual mood. He was cold and hard and got what he wanted.

((Sorry, it would have been longer, but I have to go...))

**That's cool ;) **

Lula waited for the Hutt to address them all but it seemed the fat slug was more intent on eating his greasy snacks. She was just about to scream when he spoke. "Well bounty hunters, I see many of you are interested in this latest offer of mine. I'm sure all of you have heard of the Promised Jewel. The ship holds many a mystery but I'm not interested in that. I want you to capture if for me and either bring it back here to Tatooine or contact me directly. Fortuna will supply you with direction comlinks. Now go and claim me my prize."

Fett cleared his throat. "You lacked to inform us of the payment sum."

Jabba waved a hand and acted vague. "Must have slipped my mind. It'll be for one million credits."

Almost all of the hunters gasped at the price. Boba Fett remained as stagnant as ever. Lula had known the price all along. She planned to wait until only the stragglers were left. She had a fair idea where the Promised Jewel was. She leant against a wall to wait.

Soon after the rest of the bounty hunters got over the shock of being rewarded with 1,000,000 credits. (with the exception of Boba Fett) a man in dirty white blastershot riddled armor came over and introduced himself to Jabba the Hutt. "My name is Kel Solaar, and I'm at your service." a voice came from behind the mans helmet.

Jabba looked this "clone wannabe" over from top to bottom. The other bounty hunters didnt even realise he was there before now as he had sat in one of the darkend alcoves with a few other "guests".

"More assurance I'll have my prize" Jabba gargled out while eating some of his slimey and greasy snacks. Kel Solaar nodded and stepped in line with the other bounty hunters. By now Fortuna was already done handing out all the information Jabba the Hutt had on The Promised Jewel.
Kel Solaar didnt hesitate by haning around Jabba's palace any more then he needed. He got to his old (but trusy) ship, the Omega and set off to re-supply what he'd need for the trip.

((Sorry if the story doesnt really fit in, or its not top notch. I dont usually play any type of RPG's, but I thought I'd try my hand with this one.
   So please excuse my bad story telling =))

Jin did a preliminary read of the hunt specs on his wristlink. Most of the info was scraps of space lore, but there were a few solid coordinates in amongst the detritus.  He did some rapid calculations in his head, factored in a percentage for drift, and then turned the findings over to the more flexible part of his consciousness, the part unencumbered by the restraints of logic, fact, and the plain bloody obvious. Jin, familiar with the ways of the force, knew that it took a special eye to see what was at first glance, not there. He found that the methods of oblique observation and tangential awareness could be applied to many situations and yield unusual, and sometimes, lifesaving results. Such a simple thing to do, to turn off the rational mind and let the wild instincts have their way with thought and action. He smiled as a pattern not immediately discernable, and perhaps, not even present in any statistically significant or measurable way, took shape. His sight blurred for a moment, and in place of the grubby palace, he glimpsed a vision of a sleek luxury vessel moving wihtout sound or intent through the nothingness of deep space.

Jin smiled to himself, feeling once again on the winning side of the odds.  He could do this. He could find the Jewel, and win the enough credits to buy his own corner of the distant galaxy.

The Twi’lek jostled him as he moved through the thinning group of hunters.

“You’re not one of the regulars,” the palid huminoid said in his native tongue. He looked Jin up and down, very obviously finding him wanting in some way. “You’re not even a bounty hunter.”

“For a million credits, I can very easily become a hunter.” Jin shut down the vidfeed to his wristlink. “Besides, it doesn’t matter if you’re a hunter. It only matters if you’re a winner.”

That stymied the creature. He drifted back towards the dais and his bulbous employer.  Jin popped the cover over the vidscreen. When he looked up, Boba Fett stood before him, eying him in a most curious manner, if such a thing could be said about a man wearing the concealing Mandalorian helm.

What did one say when staring potential death in the T-shaped visor? The Empire still had a bounty on Jedi, and even though he was as far from a Jedi as Jabba was from a dancing girl, some beings in the galaxy didn’t bother to make such distinctions when faced with a force user.  Then again, Fett might not know Jin’s secret. He’d taken great care to fit in with the regular barves. “Er, good hunting and all that.”

He hoped Fett would move, but no such luck.  Jin cleared his throat, perplexed.  “Shouldn’t you be haring off to your ship like the rest of the crowd?”

A grinding sound, like metal shearing metal, rattled through the helm’s vocoder. “There’s plenty of time for me to take my prize.”

“You’re prize?”

Fett nodded.  “The Twi’lek’s correct.  You’re not a hunter.”

Jin felt a familiar hostile tingle in his blood.  “What is there, some damn union card I need to flash?  A club to join? So I’m not a hunter, what of it?”

“There is a guild, but it’s not worth joining.” Fett rocked back on his heels, holding his rifle the way a protective mother might cradle a delicate newborn.  “You’re out of your league.”

Jin’s vision blurred, and his eyes felt suddenly hot and dry. A bad sign. A very bad sign. He balled his hands into fists and jammed them into the voluminous pockets of his black robe. “I’ve got more chance than you know of finding that ship. A betting man might say I’ve got more chance than most.”

Again, that slow, maddeningly measured nod.  “Force users have an edge that way. They’re able to see the things the average being might miss.  But finding the ship and securing the prize is one thing. Holding on to it and getting it back to the paying client, that’s another game entirely.”

So Fett had guessed his dirty little secret.  Was there anything this guy didn’t know?  “I can hold my own.”

“We’ll see.”  With alarming and unnatural speed, the enigmatic hunter did a brisk heel turn, and made to exit the chamber. Then, on his second step he paused and looked back over his broad shoulder at Jin.  “It’s not unusual for hunters to form limited partnerships on hunts such as these.  Combine …talents.”

“Share the bounty? Not bloody likely.”

“We’ll see,” was all he said, and then like a menacing phantom, he disappeared in the gathering dark of the rapidly emptying hall. 

Jin stood speechless for a moment. Bounty hunters were by nature a strange and cut-throat lot. They’d make all manner of insane arrangements with each other, only to turn like rabid womp rats upon each other the moment they sensed an advantage, or a chance to keep the glory and coin for themselves.

If he didn’t need the credits so badly, if he didn’t value his life and comfort above all else, he’d never have willingly signed on to work with their element.  Fett had a point. This would be an arduous hunt. Jin bet his mother’s fine name that he could locate that ship as easy as he could sense a coming Sabbac shift, but once he found the damn thing, then what?  Perhaps this partnership idea might be the right way to go about it all. It was much easier for two beings to fend off an attacking army than one?  Of course, he’d be twice as mad as he already knew he was to sign on with the likes of Boba Fett.  If he could find someone else, that might work out just fine.

Jin trudged down through a dank corridor, grabbed his meager belongings and mismatched armor from his tiny room, and made for the motorpool and his speeder bike. His ship was docked not too far from the palace.  Once he reached the safety of its durasteel hull, he’d have a chance to enter a proper meditative state, and surf the currents of what is, and what might become if a man was clever and bold and canny enough to bring it to pass.  Jin suspected he was every one of these things, and even if he wasn’t, he could act the part long enough to get what he needed.  Above all, he was a survivor.

*

Fett had the Slave set down not to far from the dark force user’s ship, but kept it cloaked and well concealed by a series of large, ever shifting dunes. The kid was a bundle of barely contained rage. It poured off him in waves Fett could touch if he but reached out. No question, Jin Sarin was unstable. And, he was useful. His force affliction dictated certain predictable actions. No doubt he would exploit his sensory powers to find the Promised Jewel, seeing things the average being might miss, using unconventional methods not availble to the normal hunter. Sarin's skills didn't worry Boba Fett, for he planed to turn them to his own advantage. Ever the opportunist, Fett knew from his years as a hunter: work smarter, not harder. So he waited, and he watched, and soon, very soon he expected, he would profit from his efforts.

Slave I’s console came to life, signaling the departure of Jin’s ship from the planet surface. The bugs Fett implanted in the navacomputer fed a rapid and robust stream of data to the Slave, and Fett set his own course based on that established by his rival.  It was an eccentric flight path, to say the least, but there was a hint of method to it, a shadow of genius. For a moment Fett wondered what the other hunters were up to.  Would any others be smart enough, cunning enough, or crazy enough to track down the Jewel? And if they did, what would await once they found the floating legend? He had a strange feeling, something like indigestion mixed with the lingering effects of a half-remembered nightmare: a ship that floated through space like a ghost might not be the best thing to disturb, no matter how many credits were laid upon the table…

One million credits...

Cato thought the number in his head again... He had already known the price before the Hutt had spoke it, but after being reminded it brought the thought back to his mind. Now he had to stay focussed and find that ship. The sooner he leaves, the sooner he will find it.

The Hutt's palace was already starting to empty... Cato didn't want to wait until it did...

I better leave...

He walked out into the barren desert. The sun scorched the terrain and everything that inhabited it. He saw what appeard to be the skeleton of an unfortunate creature...

I wander how any creature could survive this, or why any one would want to...

Being as his species came from a rigid cold world, it was no surprise he disliked the heat. It would at least encourage him to get to his ship more quickly...

So he did. He unlocked his YT-2400 and got in... After taking off, he exited the atmosphere, emerging into the deep coldness of space...

((Come on Mel, half a dozen RPGs together and you don’t find it suitable to tell me when we get a new gorram site!? I’m hurt, really.))

“Looks like it’s go time.” The voice, on the surface, had nothing strange about it. Just another piece of a galaxy full of sound, nothing to give so much as a second thought to. If one were to go deeper into that voice however, into the dark being to which it belonged to, what they would see would be enough to bring most men to tears. What they would glean, was the life of a killer. A life brimming with a fear long past, literal monsters that wanted nothing more than to gorge itself on his flesh, armies of trained soldiers standing against only himself and a trio of his friends. A life of death. This was more literal than most would think; because Sathik, was a plague carrier. His breath, his blood, any bodily export carried his disease, which was deadly on an incredible level.

Friends. Sathik thought to himself, a word that would have been foreign to him years ago. Now however, there was a single being that stood out when that word came to mind. A warrior, like him; orphaned, deadly, and like he had been, completely alone before he’d met Sathik.

“It does indeed.” This voice, much unlike his dark friend’s, had a very unique sound to it. Like rocks grinding together, a low, rasping excuse for a voice brought on by his species’ natural anatomy. This being’s past, if one had the courage to peek into it, was very much like his friend’s, and at the same time very different. He was a soldier, trained from the age of eight. That very training, was cut short before his ninth birthday, not even a year later. The reason, quite simply, was that his trainers, his family, and the majority of his species, had died all at once. The tale of his life was a long and sad one, full of death and loss, but one not known to anyone living, save Sathik.

The difference between he and his friend, was that Arcuse, so he was named, had gone his previous five and twenty years without knowing what fear felt like. He’d had not even a year of Ubese warrior training, say true, but in that part of a year he’d learned more than he would from years of conventional military training. Primarily among the knowledge he’d gain, was his lack of emotion. He'd felt fear once before however, at the hands of a demon, for there was little else you could call him. He'd saved that demon's life, but before he did, that evil-tainted monster had shown him what fear was. He felt a few others more regularly; rage, anger, hate, and at the head, vengeance. Ever since that day when the Old Republic had laid waste to his homeworld, his family, and his life, he’d sworn vengeance upon the man responsible. To this day, he’d never found him.

More recently, he’d begun to feel kinship, or friendship if it do ya. Sathik was his friend, he was very sure of that, and he’d trust him with his own life in a heartbeat. His other friends, though not trusted to such a degree as his plagued companion, were his crew aboard the Ana Ng. Though not many, it was a considerable number when one took into account how Arcuse had lived throughout the previous years of his life. The rest, were very few indeed. A female Jedi, though he’d last seen her years ago; and a fellow hunter, who had, though he and Sathik had never spoken of it, had feelings for the she-Jedi. Dash, as the hunter was called, they had accompanied on recent bounties, the Jedi, they did not know when they’d see next.

Sathik rose from the booth he and his friend had occupied during the bounty briefing, stepped over the few bodies that had accumulated on the floor, and stretched. The bodies, or corpses as they now were, had been the result of a few belligerent brawlers who’d tried to get the two warriors in on the fight that had broken out earlier. Much to their dismay, the pair had obliged.

The plague-ridden bounty hunter wore little in the way of armor, preferring to rely on his speed and skill than to be a blaster-sponge. The stock of a rifle-style weapon protruded from the scabbard on his back, giving him relatively easy access to the weapon while not restricting his movement. The gun he wore, was, in fact, a slugthrower. And further than that, it was a spread-gun, more colorfully known as a shotgun. The slugthrower had been his weapon of choice since he’d encountered the horrors he’d witnessed as a child, and had saved his life more times than he could count. In a shoulder-rig he toted a Sorosuub S-5 heavy blaster, on Arcuse’s insistence, and had more than few blades hidden on his body. The last bit of noticeable gear, was his mask. The bit of apparel fit over his mouth and nose, and kept his disease where it belonged.

Arcuse too slid his way out from their corner table, stepping on and over the bodies as if they weren’t even there, and followed Sathik as he strode towards one of the Palace’s exits. He was the pinnacle of intimidation, or so he’d been told, covered from helmet to boots in a jet-black armored flight-suit. The reflective faceplate served to keep his face a well-kept secret, as was the custom when in the presence of non-Ubese. He had a BlasTech E-11 rifle slung across his chest with a shoulder-strap, mounted with an under-barrel grenade launcher, grappling spike launcher, and tactical glowrod. As a sidearm, the Ubese warrior wore a BlasTech DL-36 pistol in a thigh-holster, with the end of the holster secured just above the knee. The weapons, like Sathik’s shotgun, had been his faithful armaments for years.

The two bounty hunters left without a word, Sathik ever-vigilant as he scanned stairways and darkened corridors, and Arcuse looking over the bounty information. As a rule of thumb, the mercenaries generally took dead-or-alive bounties, with their preference being the former after a mix-up back in an Imperial Garrison involving the details of the bounty. Treasure hunting then, was far from their forte, but for a million credits preferences can shift very easily.

Content with his basic understanding of the merchandise, and knowing he could always review the information later aboard his ship, the Ubese deactivated his PAC20 wrist comm, which had been acting as a datapad to display the datacard’s contents, and rested his hand on the pistol-grip of his E-11. He switched his visor’s optics mode to a low-light setting, granting him greater visibility in the dark, humid hallways of Jabba’s palace.

After a few minutes of navigating the stone fortress, the two hunters were released into the scorching heat of Tatooine’s two suns.

“Never seems to get any cooler whenever we come here.” Sathik sighed, squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the harsh light. “Don’t know why I expect it to.”

“Indeed.” Arcuse agreed, voicing his almost universal affirmation.

“Oh shut up Arc, you can’t even feel the heat in that suit of yours can you?” Sathik asked, his voice not matching the harshness of his words.

“Mayhap I can. Mayhap I can’t.”

Sathik sighed in resignation, giving up the subject as they approached his Ubese friend’s cargo-speeder, affectionately named Mule. The repulsor-craft wasn’t as bad as the name implied in reality, and could attain respectable speed while still being able to seat four and carry a sizeable amount of cargo. The plagued bounty hunter took the controls, while Arcuse seated himself towards the rear, armored hand still grasping his blaster rifle. His paranoia turned out to be unfounded, and they set off towards Mos Eisley unopposed.

It took the better part of an hour for Mule to get them to the spaceport, with Sathik taking occasional swigs from a water jug. Apparently, Arcuse’s air-sealed suit did keep the temperature at a comfortable level, because he made the entire journey without a single mouthful of water.

After traversing the busy streets for yet another quarter-hour, the pair pulled into Docking Bay 19, where Arcuse’s precious SFS GAT-12 Skipray Blastboat lay waiting in the now-setting Tatooine suns. The Ubese soldier dismounted, keyed in his vessel’s various passcodes, and entered the craft. He went immediately to the cockpit, started the pre-flight sequence, and opened the rear cargo-hatch so Sathik could bring in Mule.

The ship, christened the Morbis Ferre (which means ‘Death Bringer’ in an ancient form of basic) was a masterpiece of modern armaments. Setting aside the enormous collection of weapons in Arcuse’s armory, the Skipray sported three capital-ship grade ion cannons, a high-powered fire-linked laser cannon turret, a proton torpedo launcher with a magazine of twelve torpedoes, and a concussion missile launcher that drew from a store of eighteen missiles. Add that to a full set of top-notch durasteel armor and a dedicated shield generator, and the Morbis Ferre became a mechanized killing machine. Cold, dark, and a little bit evil, just like its owner.

“Mule’s locked up, we’re ready to go.” Sathik yelled down the Morbis Ferre’s ‘neck’ corridor into the cockpit. Without a response, Arcuse strapped himself into the pilot’s chair, his eyes following every tick of the pre-flight countdown timer.

Two minutes later, the large gunboat’s repulsorlifts roared to life, and the mass of metal and weapons headed skyward, almost daring anyone to attack by its sheer amount of firepower alone. The Morbis Ferre disappeared into the void of hyperspace moments after leaving Tatooine’s atmosphere, bound for a destination given to them by one of their few friends, Al-Kwarzeme. The Tiss’shar was the pilot aboard the Ana Ng, the ship that Arcuse and Sathik would crew when there were no bounties worthy of their exclusive attention. The smuggler/pilot had more than his fair share of underworld contacts, and had given them the most accurate location on the market of the Promised Jewel’s resting place. They could only hope that information was reliable as Arcuse’s Skipray barreled through hyperspace.

((Alright, anyone want to tell me why HTML isn't working? I can't live without italics.))

((Alright, getting back in the RPGing mood at long last...hopefully I'll stick around this time))

Ski N'juk waited for only moments after the short tussle had ended before leaping on his own prey.

Of course, being a Jawa, his victim was of a slightly different variety- few sentients in the galaxy outside his own species would consider the scrapped remains of a sabaac-dealing droid to be the goldmine it manifested as in his own mind. His diminutive robed body contracted even further as he hunkered down beside the still-sparking remains, attempting fervently to leave no shrapnel unscavenged and not so much as a screw lying on the filth-ridden and dingy floor of Jabba's estate.

Apparently there was some kind of major bounty offer happening today, by the looks of the tough customers gathering in the rapidly-filling audience chamber. Even a relative hermit such as he could recognize the fearsome visage of Boba Fett, and the fact that several other people in the room were equipped with full body armor was a dead giveaway; only bounty hunters and mercenaries tended to wear the bulky stuff, as they were the most in need of its life-extending qualities.

All this meant little to him, though; all little Ski cared about was getting together enough parts to cobble together a decent-looking droid. It didn't have to work; when you lived and worked around Jabba's palace you learned to be insistant, convincing and fast, all of which could, when proprtly applied, let one get away with selling an unsuspecting spacer a hunk of rust. Sell a droid, help the clan, life is grand, that's how it works.

However, a little change could be nice on occassion...and Ski couldn't help but overhear the intriguing conversation of a human behind him. Well, it wasn't so much a conversation as a mumbled stream of expletives, mixed with a few coherent words here and there that seemed to latch on to the little creature's hooded ears.

"Gorram thugs...they gone and killed Kinley. How in the Force are we supposed to go after that bounty without a proper mechanic? Especially with that dampener on the fritz...we ain't got cash enough to hire us another good'n before Fett over there's already collected the million credits."

"Meebee mia be help to yooee, ey?" Ski interjected in his most proper trade language. It always surprised him when sentients couldn't understand what he was saying...always made perfect sense to him. So what if he had a bit of an accent?

The human man and the female he had been conversing with turned toward the source of the squeaky voice. The man attempted to make sense of what had been said to him when he spotted the pile of junk held in a fold of the filthy robe. "We don't want any. Go away."

"No, mee mee mechananik! Me fixy engines, make ship fly!" He waved his clawed hands in a flying motion, letting go of the robe and sending the parts he had scavenged to the floor. For the moment, he forgot all about them and continued gesturing frantically. "No need pay! Just food me like, eating good food. And ifn you get biggo bounty, you gimme leetle. You be rich enuff den!"

The humans stared at him a moment longer, then exchanged a curious glance. The woman gave a slight shrug, and the man turned back to Ski, almost extended his hand, then thought better of it.

"Your offer sounds pretty good to me, little guy. Name's Greego Schen, and this here's my wife Lorna. If you know anything about machines, and I'm bettin' your kind does, I think you could have us on our way a lot faster than we could. We're willing to take a chance on you. What's your name?"

"Oh, mee mee Ski," the jawa replied, his tiny heart beating faster now that he realized what was happening. They were actually going to take him away...in a spaceship. How exciting! He was fond of adventures, and this would be the greatest one of his young life. "Me bery gooda fixin, me fixa droids allda time...not that one though," he added quickly, gesturing to the pile of parts at his feet. "Dat one brokey when mee foundee."

"Yeah, we figured as much." Greego seemed to be tiring of the little desert creature quickly, but it was evident that Lorna found him quite amusing. "We've got a speeder parked in the motor pool. Why don't you gather up all your...belongings...and meet us there? This little hunters' meeting shouldn't  take long."

Ski nodded so hard his hood threatened to fall back, then fell to his knees and scooped up the parts. This done, he rushed off to the hole he stashed all the loot he had gathered over the weeks, mysterious hooded eyes glittering even more than usual. Spaceship ride for Ski! Whee!

Idiots thought Nate, leaning back in his chair.
Jabba's place was almost empty now. He heard the slug talking about some big prize, it didn't matter to him.
Nate thumbed the switch to his saber 1 million credits is a lot though he thought.
Maybe I should get into this and with that he got up and left

A half an hour later he pulled his speeder into the spaceport.
"A, sir, hold up please," a small man came shouldering up to him," the repairs on your ship aren't done yet, it might take us a few more hours," he said.
"Well then what are you doing telling me about it when you could be fixing it!"
"Y-yes sire," and with that he scuddled away.
A few hours, well I guess I'll go vist a cantina, get a drink or two, so, getting back into his speeder he headed off for a pub.

Once at the pub he jumped out, it was dark now and the lights were comming on to light up the street.
Suddenly a hand flew out and grabbed his shoulder.
"Hey punk," the ugly looking alien said to him,"fork over anything good you got on you."
"Yea," said Nate,"you and what army."
"Me and this army," he said, and with those words a gang of about 10 thugs jumped out from the shadows,"so give me what you got."
"Look," said Nate, "you're way out of league here, go back to looting sentient creatures, and stay out of my way."
"You little..." and he pulled out his pistol and fired three shot right at Nate. With lighting fat reflexes he pulled out his saber, it burned a violnet, red glow as all three blasts where blocked clean away from there intended target. With another swift move he shortened the distence between them until finally they were face to face with each other. Another half a second later the brillient, red blade had gone striaght through the thug and had come out the other side.
"I told you you were out of your league," and with that he pulled the blade out from the alien and switched off.
"Who's next," he said in a dark whisper.

Mikel stood amongst the swirling sands next to his starship the VeeKayy. The confident smile on his face was there for a reason. 5 years ago he had won a data crystal in a game of Sabacc from a very old deep-space pirate who claimed that the information it contained was worth far more than the hand he had just won. Back then Mikel put it down to the ramblings of a crazy old man down on his luck and getting towards the end of his career. In fact, it wasn't until he heard about the bounty from Jabbas slimy lips that he remembered he still had the data crystal at all.

Looking back towards Jabba's Palace he waved a mock salute, certain that the next time he sees the place, he will be there to collect a handsome reward.

Settling into his overly comfortable command chair, Mikel inserted the crystal into the navicomputer. The cockpit screens came to life and displayed co-ordinates that not even he recognised. What he was certain of was that the jump point intersected with another line simply marked Promised Jewel. The computer did a bit of whirring and churning, and promptly displayed an estimated time of intercept: 12 standard days. This is going to be a long jump.. Mikel thought to himself as he gently lifted the Veekayy off the platform and into the great black beyond....

* * *

The sound of alarm klaxons abruptly woke Mikel out of the peaceful slumber that had become a regular part of the last 12 days. A glance at the monitors woke him quite smartly. It only took a moment for the CMD to display that the ID of the ship in front of him was indeed the Promised Jewel. The hull showed considerable signs of carbon scoring, but the ship was intact, albeit lifeless.

Scanning for life-forms the computer said aloud. Michael could barely hear the announcement over the alarm, but was too excited to pay any attention to it. Inconclusive the computer answered itself matter-of-factly. Communications... negative..

"This is it.." Mikel said to himself. "This will show Fett who is the greatest hunter..." A smile would have quickly appeared on Mikels face if it hadn't been for his sudden realisation of what the continued alarm was trying to warn him about. "FRAK!" he roared as he looked at the tactical display to see that his ship was currently being targeted by the weapons systems of what was a seemingly lifeless ship. "LET'S GET OU......."

The bright turbolaser blasts at such close proximity blinded Mikel temporarily, but as they ripped through the hull he knew there wouldn't be a good ending here. Mashing his big sweaty palm on a switch labelled "JETTISON" he closed his eyes and knew his hunt was over. The memory core of the Veekayy sealed itself into a blastproof container and exploded out the underside of the ships belly before the last turbolaser volley connected with the ships main power coupling causing a massive explosion which vaporised what was left of the Veekayy and engulfed the memory core which wasn't given enough time to reach a safe distance.

* * *

Hours went by. All that was left of Mikel and the Veekayy were dust fragments and the odd piece of spinning metal. Even the Promised Jewel had dissappeared as well. The only recognisable piece in that part of space was a very battered but lifeless memory core container.

* * *

Time seems to stand still in space... minutes seem like hours, hours seem life days, days like months. At some point in that time a light started blinking on a battered durasteel cannister, and a tracking signal started to make its journey through deep space.....

Lifting his newly repaired ship into the air Nate took off for space. After clearing the atmosphere he made a quick jump into hyperspace and came out into a sector he had never been too.

This is wierd he thought I've never been here before[i/]

Suddenly a light started blinking on his control base.

"[i]Incoming unknown capsule" it said aloud.

Turning the ship around he sung by and picked up the floating piece of metal.

Down in the cargo bay, his onboard computar had already found a way to plug into the metal. Nate eyed the piece of junk for a second. It was scouced and burned, but, there was something else about the piece that was important, he could feel it.

"Sir," said the voice of his computar,"it seems that the object containes the core memory of the formor craft VeeKayy, owned by the formor Mikel."

"And why do you say formor?"

"Because it says that moments after this was launced the craft was obliterated by an unknown force."

"And what's this unknown force?"

"Well sir," it said in a hesitated tone," the memory core believies it to be the starship known as The Promised Jewl."

"Does it have it's last known cordinates in there," he said, now more intrested in this object.

"Yes sir, I have already sent to your navigatonal system, are you ready to jump now..." but Nate was already half way up the latter to the cockpit.
With a devious smile on his face he puched the final command, the command that would send him on a one way path to the Promised Jewl

Jin felt a disturbance in the force, a brief, yet unsettling flash. He roused from his semi-slumber and tried to focus on the sensation. He closed his eyes, and willed himself to a calm state. As a trance descended he saw the ship, the Promised Jewel. Not from the outside, this time from inside it’s sleek, mysterious hull.  The whole trip he’d worked to bridge the gap from exterior to interior. His excitement caused the image to waver.

He sobered and pulled it back into a semblance of clarity. He drifted on the main bridge, a ghost amongst the ghosts. Skeletal, charred remains sat slumped over consoles, or, splayed out in chairs. Some bones were spread across the dusty durasteel floor.  Thick webs of white silk like thread draped over some of the bodies and equipment, looking like spun sugar. Worse than the burnt bones and decay, however, were the other shadows. What they were, Jin couldn’t say, for he’d not experienced their like before. There were three of them, moving like space dust in the wind, yet there was purpose. They were near a weapons array. Did he see the future, he wondered, or the past?

On the main view screen a ship came into view.  He felt the engines of the Promised Jewel rev to life, then he sensed the rumble of the main guns charging. The ship beyond was pummeled to pieces in mere seconds.  For an instant the swirling mass of fog and ether took humanoid shape, a defining moment where they all seemed as solid as any man might.  Then they were gone, and the Promised Jewel lurched into hyperspace, jumping to yet another set of coordinates.  On the echo of solar winds, he thought he heard the unmistakable sound of an astromech droid, yet the mechanized sounds took on a malevolent ring.

Jin tore out of the trance, his heart racing, his body soaked with a cold sweat. He’d seen many nasty things in his time, but what existed upon that ship was unspeakably unholy.  And what of the sound of the astromech? It sounded a sinister warning from a twisted perversion of metal and circuitry.  Hell waited on that ship for the unwary, and evil lived well fed and ready in it’s endless corridors.  Lucky for him, he was on intimate terms with evil.

Jin refigured the coordinates, dropped his ship out of hyperspace, and re-entered with a new set of directions.  He tweaked them to a dangerous degree.  If he played this right, he'd drop in somewhere on top of the Jewel's flight pattern, up close and personal with the ship iteself.  If he played this wrong, and overshot the mark, he'd collide with it's hull and destroy himself.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

He smiled at his own desperation.  In a mere two hours, he’d reach the quadrent where the Jewel hid herself now.  Plenty of time to figure out how to get on board.  Of course, once he was on, he didn’t have a clue what he’d do next. Boba Fett’s words of limited partnership crossed his mind.  A partner might be able to create a diversion.  He was starting to get why the hunters made those crazy bargains with each other, and a part of him wondered where in the galaxy Fett was now…

--24722--
B00t s3quence
  qu3ry, Why
saW,—wAtch3r
F0rce, det3kt scAn
  1 533 7#31\/1
qu3ry  Is it a Jedi 
v3rify, 3nity unKn0wn
  r3ply, in1tiat3 scAn
MORE AR3 C0MING
  1\/10123 1-11_11\173125
<thEy'll NeVer t0uch u-S>
d3ploy, new cor--Dinat3s
    Ent3Ring Hyp3rSpac//
c0nFirmed  F0rc3 u-Ser
  1 #473 j3d1
qu3ry, why cannot let us die
  TH3Y WILL BE HERE SOON
HuNterS---many 3nititeS
<B0ba FeTt? i remEmbeR FeTt...>
1_11<3 7#3 071-1312
  qu3ry, should we attack
w3 4tt4k3d th3 VeeKayy
      Ahn1l14teD th3 Hunt3r
qu3ry, are more hunters after us now
    1_11\11)01_187481_Y
w3 aRe a d3sired b0unTy
<Idi0ts, HuTts aRe s0 kriFfin 5tuP1d>
WANT US WANT TO TAKE US HURT US
  sm1t3 theM---Korrupti0n, 3ngaGe
Kha0*z
  qu3ry, is Force following
1 1)01\17 533 1-111\/1
  h3 1s f0llw--ing u-S.
qu3ry, what now
KILL TH3 F0RCER
<kriFfin jeDi>
  347 012 83 34731\1
relEa5e Kha0*z
qu3ry, do we agree
YES
<leT tHem coMe>
4804121)
Kha0*z
qu3ry, shut down the turrets
AFFIRMATIVE
kOme 1nsid3, b0uN7y Hunt3r5
<the gReat boBa FeTt>
71-13 j3\/\/31 4\/\/4175
\  /\  / /_\ |/ [   =|= |_| [   |) [  /_\  [_ =|=
\/  \/ /    \|\ [     |    |  | [   |) [ /    \ _|   |
--24722--

Lula took her time getting to her ship, the Billowed Reid. As she climbed aboard she went through the data she had collected over many years. She observed the logs of sightings and one thing became clear, despite all the years the Promised Jewel had floated through space it had not been plagued by rust or other ailments old ships suffered. Lula sat back and flipped her face plate open. "It's a hologram." She muttered to herself.

Tapping her lip with her finger, Lula started to think it through. Perhaps Talk Ettin had wanted to disappear so badly that he actually crashed his ship and set up a fake hologram so people would think it was still out there. Lula wondered if that were possible. It took her only a moment to realise that the hologram projector could be a remote or small ship. The former seemed more likely.

Lula decided to scan for remotes in the area, then perhaps she'd find where the true Promised Jewel hid.

((Sorry SciFi, I don't have your email!))

Jin slipped back into the pilot seat, shifted some of the bits of armor around on his body, and strapped into the flight harness. A warning light flashed on the main console, and Jin braced for impact, or action, as his ship dropped out of the space lane.

“Oh no!”  The Promised Jewel filled his view.  There wasn’t a scrap of space to be seen. He’d overshot the calculations.  Jin grabbed for the controls, racing against time he knew he didn’t have.  At this distance he couldn’t do a single thing.  Except, perhaps, brace for impact.  Jin cursed in three languages and prepared to die.

*

Fett brought the Slave out of hyperspace at a slick, but manageable speed.  The first thing that caught his eye wasn’t the Promised Jewel.  It was Jin Sarin’s ship, on a collision course with the bulkhead of the luxury cruiser, with only a nanosecond to impact.

Fett started to adjust the shields for backblast and debris, but something amazing and utterly impossible interrupted his efficient handling of his even more efficient rig.  Sarin’s ship did not explode into flame and flying metal on impact with the Jewel.  In fact, it didn’t impact at all.  It moved through the allegedly solid hull of the Promised Jewel, and then vanished.  The cruiser showed no signs what so ever of impact, damage, or Sarin’s small ship.

“What the …” Fett muttered to himself.  Alarm sensors blazed to life.  The Jewel’s main guns were targeting the Slave.

Always prepared for the worst, Fett hit a single button.  Slave I tore like lightning back into a short hyperspace lane, then dropped back out on the other side of the Jewel.  Just in time to see Jin Sarin’s ship emerge from the bulkhead again.

Fett narrowed his eyes, and brought the Slave in for a closer look.  He was vaguely aware of Sarin’s ship turning and following.  Fett skimmed the seemingly solid surface of the Jewel and noticed it tended to waiver and vacillate in spots. Curiosity got the better of him and he plunged the Slave in a downward dive.  For a moment death seemed imminent, then, Slave I penetrated the illusory hull.  Fett pulled the ship up short, reversed thrusters, and held steady for a moment.  Before him sat a much smaller ship, heavily armored and peppered with all manner of sophisticated projection apparatus.

He located a likely air lock in a safe spot clear of ship guns and crossing fields of fire, and put the Slave down. For the first time in far too long, Boba Fett’s interest roused. 

“Avast ye scurvy barves,” he thought to himself with grim pleasure, “heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

*
Once Jin recovered from his panic, near death experience, and all around shock, he was able to take control of his ship, and re-enter the illusory space around the ship pretending to be the Promised Jewel.  Fett got the jump on him, how he couldn’t fathom, then again, Boba Fett was the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy.  One didn’t get that reputation by accident and happenstance.

Jin followed Fett’s lead, and searched for a safe airlock to breach.  He dodged cannon blasts from ancillary guns mounted on the hull of the dense cruiser, but was ultimately able to locate a reasonably secure spot to dock.  Jin unbuckled the flight harness, and delayed only long enough to load up with an array of impressive and deadly weapons, and respiratory gear, before he hit the airlock, and rolled the bone dice of his life yet one more time.

This ship was not the Promised Jewel, but he’d bet half of the Emperor’s charred black soul the answer to the real location of the luxury liner lay somewhere on this ship.  And he was certain beyond all doubts that the bridge he saw in his vision was the bridge of this ship.  At first he couldn’t figure out where his vision placed, past or future, so he gave it more thought while he prepared to board the mysterious, and no doubt, hostile vessel.

What came clearest was the astromech droid, and that malicious series of beeps, whines, and whistles that finished out his trance.  As his airlock pressurized, and the door opened to the mated airlock of the phantom ship, the answer hit him:  those visions of men were not visions.  They were projections.  Astomechs were notorious for their abilities to funnel out realistic holographic projections.  The sound of the mech, that was the reality.  Those ghosts he thought he saw were nothing but collected light waves.  Hollograms, just like that surrounding this ship, played to appear like humanoid sentients operating control panels, to hide the real truth.  Only the bones of the dead were real.  Which meant droids ran this ship, at the peril to the beings of flesh.

Jin hated many beings and many things in this galaxy, but droids made his top ten list…several times.  His hand strayed lightly to the haft of one of his sabers.  For the first time in too long a time, Jin looked forward to a fight.
*
Trouble came. Invaders of flesh. Reavers.

Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.

The main computer sent silent pulses of alarm, downloading the necessary protocols into the sleeping army.

As one, the beast woke.

Never take us. Never take us alive

The sounds of moving metal and the whir of sentient machines rising from slumber echoed in the long, empty corridors, interrupted only by two other things:  the opening of the first air lock, and the maniacal whistle of the astromech…

//he 1s heRe.
<it's aBout kriFfin tiMe>
8084 1=377
query, kill Boba Fett
-YES-
R3leAse t/He--IG-92 droids.
<kRif yeah, n0body kRifs with tHe BeasT>
query, what about the Forcer?
f0R tHe jeDi-- 2(two) dueling droids with
CORTORSIS BLADES
51-1412P 01\135
<kRiffin Jedi g0nna die>

-------

Deep within the confines of the droid vessel, three IG-92 models activated.  Shrouded in the thick cobwebs built up from unknown creatures dwelling amid the hibernating droid enities for years, the droids rose from their berths, trailing silk webs and detached cables behind them.  Armed with a flamethrower,  flechette gun, and sonic rifle between them, the trio moved quickly through the ghost ship.  Their olfactory sensors had already picked up the scent of the intruder...
On the other side of the ghost ship, two Cortorsis-armored dueling droids, already awakened by the call of the Beast, began moving slowly in the direction of the Force-presence their master had commanded them to destroy...

The Morbis Ferre dropped into subspace 300 kilometers off the Promised Jewel’s bow, weapons primed and shields holding at full charge, ready for any trace of defensive action from the ghost ship. At first, there was none, and the Ubese pilot’s paranoia appeared to be unfounded. The Skipray cruised onward, its owner’s talented hands tightening ever so slightly on the ion cannons’ triggers.

Something’s not right. Whispered a bodiless voice into Arcuse’s ear. He’d heard the voice before, and had learned over the years to heed its advice. He knew the apparition very well; and why shouldn’t he? It was his own mind speaking after all. It was the small whisper of intuition that had saved his friends’ lives on many occasions, and his own even more.

Where are the other hunters? Surely you weren’t the first to arrive; the [\i]Morbis Ferre’s[i] a good ship say true, but not known for its speed. There are no ships attached to the hull, no landing bays to be seen, and no debris or any other signs of a space battle. He thought, eying the sleek, massive luxury vessel with great suspicion.

The Promised Jewel[\i], target of every bounty and treasure hunter in the sector, seemed to be, in every way, untouched. Where any normal hunter might’ve seen this as a blessing, the Ubese warrior sitting at the [i]Morbis Ferre’s[\i] controls grew all the more doubtful that everything here was what it seemed. One black, armored glove reached for the intercom:

“Sathik, I need you on the turret.”

There was no answer for a few seconds, then: “Why, we got trouble?”

“Not yet.” Arcuse rasped, letting go of the ‘talk’ button and bringing his full attention back to his viewport. His control board informed him that the topside gunwell had been powered up; thus encouraged, the Ubese took the gunship in closer, fingers still twitching beside his firing studs. Helmeted eyes still glued to his viewport, he keyed the intercom for the turret.

“I’m taking us in closer, be ready.”

“Always, Arc.”

The [i]Morbis Ferre[\i] drifted ever closer, every weapon in her considerable arsenal trained on the hull as it approached. Arcuse’s gaze shifted momentarily to his sensor readout, assuring himself that they weren’t about to be blindsided from behind.

[i]Be ever vigilant sai, if the instructors back on Uba taught you anything, it was to stay alert and shoot straight. Now, what to do about this ship...

“You see any docking clamps? Landing bays?” The Ubese soldier asked into the intercom.

“Not a one. We could always use one of those forced entries we pulled back on that Imp garrison. You remember Willy?” Sathik answered back.

“I’d rather not. And no, we’ve got no thermal paste to burn our way in. Perhaps you could blast us a hole? I’m not reading any shields on the vessel, should be simple enough.” The Ubese returned.

“Arc, I thought you’d never ask.” With no further discussion, the laser turret began to beat its steady rhythm through the hull, launching lances of crimson energy at the starcraft below. Arcuse’s paranoia-enhanced eyes followed the first salvo with intense curiosity, wondering if perhaps the term ‘ghost ship’ was meant to be taken all too literally this time.

[i]Mayhap the blasts will pass right through.[\i] The Ubese thought, not quite believing himself even as the notion crossed his mind. [i]Such things are illogical, it would do you good to concentrate on possibilities that may actually occur.[\i]

A moment later however, Arcuse proved himself wrong and right at the same time. The paired laser bolts passed [i]through[\i] the [i]Promised Jewel’s[\i] hull, and out of the Ubese’s sight. Sathik’s voice came through the comm a moment later.

“Arc?” Said a perfectly calm, and thus obviously wrong voice.

“Yes.”

“Did you just see that?”

“If by ‘that’ you mean your opening salvo going through the-”

“Arc! Look out!” Sathik suddenly yelled, the loud noise causing the Ubese’s hand to dart towards his holstered blaster out of reflex. In his line of business, shouting was generally followed by gunshots. That reflex, the very one that had kept him alive a dozen times over, now betrayed him. As his right hand dipped towards his thigh holster, an emerald pillar of light struck the [i]Morbis Ferre’s[\i] amidships, throwing Arcuse against his pilot’s harness and shaking the entire ship. Had he seen the turbolaser blast coming, and had his right hand been on the flight-stick, then he might’ve had a chance to veer out of the way in time. Most unfortunately for the Ubese however, he [i]hadn’t[\i] seen the blast coming, and nor had his hand been under his control so much as it had been under his reflexes’; needless to say, he didn’t have a prayer.

Arcuse immediately grasped the Skipray’s flight-stick and shoved it forward, throwing more power to the engine with his left hand as he did so. The ponderous gunship lurched forward and dove, causing the second blast to do nothing more than skim across the shields. The Ubese gunslinger looked to his shield gauge for an instant, and saw them already 2/3 gone. Had those shields been down, he and Sathik would be just so many particles floating in space.

“What in the Nine Circles of Hell just happened!?” Arcuse rasped angrily, one of the few emotions he experienced. He would’ve yelled, it was certainly the right time for it, but his very anatomy prevented him from doing so.

“Fire came from the kriffin ship!” Sathik bellowed through the comm, perfectly capable of yelling, and doing so. He’d begun firing blindly into the ‘ghost ship’s’ not-quite-real hull, hoping to hit whatever had just tried to shoot them down.

“What? I didn’t see any gun turrets as we were coming in.” Arcuse responded, throwing the [i]Morbis Ferre[\i] into a corkscrewed climb and firing a few ion shots into the ‘ship’ that filled his viewport.

“That’s just it!” Sathik yelled back, “There [i]are[\i] no gun turrets. Those shots came out right through the hull, just like mine went in.”

“Interesting.” Was the only response Arcuse gave, though more to himself than to Sathik. He looked down at the seemingly very solid hull skimming a few dozen meters beneath his ship, and raised an amused eyebrow at his own audacity. If the blasts went through, it’s possible that...

[i]Victory does not come without risks.[\i] He’d been taught, but was this taking it too far? Perhaps it was.

Whether it was or not however, played no part in Arcuse’s decision as he pushed the flight-stick forward again, putting the [i]Morbis Ferre[\i] into a steep dive – directly towards the [i]Promised Jewel[\i]. The sleek hull rushed towards him, and a questioning sound came through the intercom.

“Uh, Arc?” Sathik asked.

Arcuse didn’t answer.

“You do realize that we’re, umm, ya, kind of going to hit the ship?”

The Ubese kept his silence, and his eyes remained fixed on where they would hit in just about...now.

As the holographic plating of the [i]Promised Jewel[\i] engulfed first the bow, and then the middle (the laser turret’s location) of Arcuse’s Skipray, he heard Sathik spitting a chain of expletives from down the corridors. He hadn’t used the intercom. Almost smiling, the Ubese brought his attention back to his viewport, just in time to barrel-roll out of the way of another turbolaser blast. This time, he could see the shot’s source.

“Hello beautiful.” Sathik murmured to the intercom as he brought the turret to bear. His target wasn’t exactly a dreadnaught, but it was far from an impossible shot either. The problem he was going to have though, would be firepower. Even with the cannon upped to maximum power, he was doubtful it would have much impact on the cruiser’s, if it was large enough to be called that, shields. “Might need a wee bit of help here.” He said, leaving the intercom on so he wouldn’t have to keep keying into the cockpit.

“We’re not going to destroy it.” Arcuse rasped, hating the very words that came out of his helmeted mouth.

“It shot at us Arc. Took off more than it could chew, and now whoever’s on that thing needs to die. Natural selection, I thought you loved that kind of stuff.” Sathik said, wanting to blow the vessel out of space as much as Arcuse did.

“There are two bounty hunter craft docked with that ship. One of them is the Slave I.” The Ubese said, checking the starships’ profiles on his sensor readout, looking up every second or two to avoid what could be a killing shot from landing.

“Your point being? So we even get to eliminate our top competition [i]and[\i] kill the ship. I mean I like the old Fett more than most people, but he still cuts into our profits from time to time.” Sathik said, still firing with little effect on the small, compact cruiser.

“The Bounty Hunter’s Creed sai.” Arcuse rasped, needing to say nothing else.

[i]I will not kill another hunter during a hunt, unless he himself breaks this creed. On this I give my word.[\i] Just one of several points in the Creed.

“Y’know what Arc? Sometimes I really hate that sense of honor of yours.”

“How did we meet again?” Arcuse inquired, wanting to cut the talking as soon as possible so he could get his mind back to keeping them alive. At this, Sathik fell silent, knowing the answer very well. At a competition on some forgotten (and now destroyed) planet, a killing match called the Battledome, Sathik found himself running through a forest with two rancors on his tail, far from a good position for anyone to be in. The rest was simple: Arcuse saw the situation, deemed it unfair, joined in, and between the two of them he and Sathik had dispatched the titanic creatures. In short, Arcuse’s overzealous sense of honor had quite possibly saved Sathik’s life.

With no further arguments, Arcuse throttled the [i]Morbis Ferre[\i], draining power from the laser turret and feeding it into the crippled shields as he grew closer to the still-firing cruiser. With his honor gaining priority over his lust to kill, the only remaining option that could include surviving the ship’s constant barrage of fire, and not abandoning the hunt, would be to board the vessel. Besides, maybe he could get some clue as to where the real [i]Promised Jewel[\i] was.

The Skipray took another hit on its way in, blowing away what was left of its shields, but Arcuse didn’t much care. The closer they got to the ship, the worse its aim became, such is the glory of turbolasers. The Ubese kept the ion cannons blazing all the way in, and even fired off a half-dozen concussion missiles for good measure. The latter exploded semi-harmlessly along its shields, but the former went straight through the transparent barrier and made contact with the hull, shorting out systems wherever they struck.

“So, what exactly is the plan?” Sathik asked as the gunship decelerated near the dense vessel’s hull.

“We pull a modified Han Solo.” Arcuse answered.

“Come again?” The Dark hunter in the turret inquired, not entirely sure what his friend meant.

“We get in close and dock with the ship to avoid fire.”

“I got that part, but where does the modified part come in?”

“We kill anything on that ship that isn’t a bounty hunter.” The Ubese replied simply, punching the clasp on his chest to release his crash harness as the Skipray drifted slowly towards one of the cruiser’s docking ports.

“I think I’m going to like this plan.” Sathik said, and likewise untangled himself from the gunwell’s harness. The pair of soldiers met moments later in  the [i]Morbis Ferre’s[\i] cargo hold/armory, and began quickly browsing the vast shelves of weaponry. In the end, Sathik took his shotgun and his S-5, along with the assortment of omnipresent knives he had on him. Arcuse took his usual E-11, with all its various accessories, his standard BlasTech DL-36 sidearm, an HSB-200 hold-out blaster in an ankle holster, a combat knife on his opposite ankle, a pair of elongated vibroblades on his back which he’d recently taken a liking to, and a pair of wrist lasers. A good deal more firepower than he normally carried while out on the job, but Boba Fett was on this ship after all, and if they ever met up with him, the Ubese warrior wanted to be as ready as possible.

He’d always wondered when he saw the Mandalorian, which he did occasionally, if he would come out on top in a fight. Arcuse was certainly younger, which generally meant faster and stronger, while Boba wasn’t exactly in his prime. The Ubese was a near perfect shot, capable of shooting a pistol out of a boy’s hand almost completely out of reflex, dare he say maybe a better shot than Boba Fett himself. Still, there was something about the legendary hunter that had kept him alive through his years of hunting, something more than intelligence and firepower. Arcuse had no idea what that unknown skill was, and silently hoped that he and Sathik would finish their business here [i]without[\i] being forced into a confrontation with Fett.

[i]If we do,[\i] The orphaned soldier thought to himself. [i]I’ll do my best to kill him if he tries to do the same to me. If I’m lucky (maybe that’s his secret; ironic that it’s what saves Solo every time if it is) I’ll at least drive him off.[\i]

“Ready?” Sathik asked, blowing Arcuse’s thoughts away like breath to sand.

“Always.” The Ubese replied, using his friend’s own saying. His plagued friend punched the ramp release, and immediately noticed that the air tasted...old, almost stale somehow. Arcuse on the other hand, noticed nothing; his helmet’s air-scrubbers kept the air the usual fabricated clean he was used to.

As the cargo ramp touched the deck, both hunters descended the incline, crouched low with their weapons at the ready. There was no illumination in the airlock, and likely none elsewhere either; Arcuse activated the tactical glowrod on his BlasTech rifle, and panned the light across the walls, searching for anything that might be a problem. His quick scan came up clear, and the two proceeded onwards. Sathik had spent much of his life in the dark, and could operate without much loss of efficiency in it.

They reached a blast door simply by walking forward after exiting and sealing the [i]Morbis Ferre[\i], quite obviously giving access to the rest of the ship. Arcuse checked a panel on the wall to the left of the door, and grew more than a little uneasy to discover that the massive doors were unlocked. The Ubese hit the door release, and then stepped back next to Sathik. The two shouldered their weapons, and waited for the blast doors to open, completely oblivious as to what might be on the other side.

------------------------------------
It is currently midnight as I finally post this, and I blame any bad, horrible, or in any other way not good writing on my exhaustion. Nice to have a scape-goat every once in awhile.

I can furthermore blame it for my anger. WHY IS ITALICS NOT WORKING!? EVEN WHEN I TRY USING THIS BLOODY BBCODE IT DOESN'T WORK! WHY DON'T WE JUST BRING BACK THE RUTTIN HTML!?!?!? WORKED JUST FINE THEN!

//An0ther Bou/nty Hun/ter vess/el//
   41\1071-1312 51-11P
qu3ry, request designation.
    //The [Morbis Ferre] ha/s dock/ed//
-M0re hUnt3rs?-
    qu3ry, what do they want with us.
  -THEY WANT THE JEWEL
1=0015
             Id1otS.
//the Jew/el is safe from the meat/bags//
<anD we kilL aNyoNe who boArds the BeasT>
      DEPLOY MORE ENITIES TO DESTROY THEM
  -8oUnty Hun7er5-

-----------

Deep within the recesses of the BeasT, past the silent columns of hibernating battle droids and web-shrouded hallways littered with dried human bones, a tiny crimson LED flared into existence upon the chassis of an ancient Super Battle Droid, a relic of the clone wars, pressed into service by the Falleen who had built the ship for purposes unknown. 
First one, then three, then fifteen Super Battle Droids awoke to the BeasT's call.  Covered in layer upon layer of the thick webs that covered most of the ship, the droids slowly pulled themselves away from their berths, joints creaking from lack of usage and maitenance.  The fifteen droids then seperated into ranks of five, and split up into three seperate columns that slowly filed out of the room.  They were not far from their destination; in fact, their sensors could already make out the distant reflection of a gun-mounted glowrod dancing across the walls...

**I think Italics weren't working because you did the wrong kind of slash ( \ instead of / )**

The Billowed Reid came out of hyperspace just where the co-ordinates of the remote should be and there before her lay an image of the Promised Jewel. Lula smiled as she watched a fellow hunter's ship fire at the ghost ship. She almost laughed as she saw the bolts pass harmless through and almost hit a ship on the other side.

Lula wasn't particularly worried about the hologram, she just wanted to pin-point the signal that was being sent to the remote to keep it operating. She tapped a few keys to get the most powerful of scans activated from her ship. The reading was surprising. It appeared to be coming from a tiny planetoid registered as PT44086. Obviously the planetoid was nothing of interest since it hadn't been given an official name.

Lula decided to let the other ships play with the image of the Promised Jewel while she checked out PT44086.

The ships sophistecated sensors picked up a scan  of it's active systems by an unknown vessel, and the computer added this further piece of data into the matrix of elements that included the recent compromise of the illusion, and the attack by marauding bounty hunters. The new information processed and triggered a fail safe protocol.  The warning sequence spiraled out through the cybernetic guts of the ship. At the same time several encrypted transmissions fed out through space. On a remote planetoid too obscure to even warrant a name, a receiver picked up and decoded the alert message, then transmitted it to the next line of defense…

****************************************************************************

"Jin, you need me." The eerie voice bounced off the inside of Jin’s skull. "Let me out. You have no hope of defeating your enemy without me."

Jin squeezed his eyes shot and tried to block the voice as he prepared to enter the Jewel. Of all the damn times, now was not the one to deal with his own personal demon.  "Piss off!"

A vision of droids constructed from chalky gray metal filled his mind: Cortosis droids!

The door leading the corridors of the Jewel started opening sequence. Fine. Cortosis droids. He couldn’t fight them with a lightsaber, but he had other weapons at his disposal. His small ion stunner wouldn’t do much against a larger battle droid, but he’d lay sucker’s odds that between the cryoban greneades and the E-11, he could deal some serious hurt.

"There are many droids, and you are only one pitiful man."

The voice was both taunting and seductive. Jin felt the mortar dissolve in his mental wall, and the rocks began to tumble. He slumped against the wall of the airlock, and fought to regain his meager control.  Setting the demon loose would only damn him further, yet he found himself wanting just that, more and more, with every passing day, moment, and nano-second.

"What can you do against an army? Stop resisting me, and I will bring you everything you could desire, including victory."

The door to the interior of the promised jewel slid open.  Jin righted himself, slung the shoulder strap for the E-11, and grabbed two of his cryobans. He thought he heard cannon fire. Must be other hunters had found the phantom ship.  “I don’t need to fight an army.  All I need to do is find that astromech or a way into the main computer banks.”

He stepped cautiously into the corridors, leaving tracks in the dust that had been undisturbed for who knew how many years. He had the rough schematics for the Jewel more or less memorized, but that didn’t help him on this unfamiliar ship.  He could have used the repair corridors to travel, but that would kill precious time, and most likely get him lost. The astromech hung out on the bridge, he reasoned, and the easiest access to the main navacomputer was on the bridge.  That meant the bridge was his target, no matter how heavily defended such a position might be.  His ears registered a metallic, grinding sound that grew louder with each step.

He neared a corner and the voice roared to life in his head. "They’re coming!  Release your greneades, boy!"

Jin flattened back into a doorway, and tossed the grenades. For a moment they hung motionless in the air before him. He tapped the flow of the force, armed them with practically no fuse, and sent them hurtling around the corner.  They popped with a dull blast and the grinding stopped. 

"You see how valuable I am?" 

Jin ignored the voice, and ventured around the corner. Two battle droids were shattered, their various bits frozen and scattered.  He knew more would follow. He moved quickly down the hall and found a remote station where he was able to access ship schematics and plot the fastest course to the bridge. Beside the station was a lift tube.  Jin jumped in and took it three levels up to the main corridor.  He was aware of the distant sounds of battle, and became more aware when a tremendous blast shook the unknown ship, causing it to rock like a wayward cradle.

“Boba Fett.”  Jin knew without doubt the mysterious bounty hunter was, in one way or another, the cause of that explosion.

He moved out down the corridor, which led right up to the bridge doors. The walls were of strange construction, and too late, he noticed, singed with the marks of blaster bolts.  He barely had time to pull his twin sabers, and summon the blades before the volleys of laser bolts assaulted him from all parts of the corridor.  He fought the rain of fire as best he could, but he was so caught up in protecting himself  he couldn’t move forward to his intended target.

Three more explosions shook the ship.  The lights dimmed momentarily, and then alarms blared to life.  The laser fire doubled in intensity. 

"You can’t hold out without me, boy. You know your limitations."

There were only so many fronts of battle a man could maintain until one of the invaders broke through. A fine red rage misted before his eyes, and the bolts became a solid blur.  Fire blazed through his blood, invigorating him with power that no mere mortal man should wield. He merged with time, he reached out, he touched the current of the collective fury of the galaxy. Hate suffused his being, a clean burning fuel that gave him the edge he needed.

Jin moved like a dervish in a dance of death, dueling with the tracked shots from hidden cannons in the wall. Only he wasn’t Jin anymore.  Jin watched from the sidelines and the ancient Sith spirit that possessed the dark spot of his soul manipulated his body with a skill far beyond anything Jin could ever hope to achieve. Step by step, the Sith spirit moved him closer and closer to the bridge.  And with each step, Jin fought the spirit for control of his own body, his own mind, his own destiny. The walls were charred from the deflected laser bolts, and smoke filled the corridor.  Jin’s eyes watered, but the Sith did not need eyes: it saw by the virtue of the dark side of force, a tireless sentinel that watched always, ready to pounce and take it’s kill.

He spun wildly, and the lights went out. The safety lights flared up a moment later, dull, and yellow, giving the field of fire a hellish cast.  Through the haze of battle Jin spied a singular figure backing into the corridor, firing from a sawed off blast rifle as he took very measured steps that would lead him ultimately into the tunnel of death.

“Fett,” Jin shrieked over the din of chaos that was battle. “Watch your back!”

The first thing Boba Fett noticed as he boarded the seemingly-derelict cruiser was the thick, weblike substance covering the walls along the tight corridors.  He grasped a handful of the subtance, peeling it off of the wall for further examination, then tossing it aside as he continued through the labrynthine hallways of the ship.
It did not take long for the ship to respond to his presence.  The dim emergeny lights lining the corridor shut off abruptly; plunging the hallway into complete darkness.  Fett immediately activated his helmets infared tracking sensors, just in time to see the outline of three IG-series assasin droids approaching him rapidly.
He pulled out his blaster rifle quickly, firing aimed volleys down the corridor, then dodged a sudden flurry of tiny flechettes that barely skirted the edge of his helmet.
His infared vision suddenly erupted into a nova of light, and a wave of heat nearly pushed him off of his feet.  He activated his wrist-mounted rocket launcher, arming a special projectile he had the foresight of bringing along; a DEMP ionization blast rocket.
His vision had barely cleared before he saw another wave of flechettes, which lodged themselves inbetween the cracks of his right shoulder's armor.  Boba Fett ignored the pain.
The substance lining the hallway had ignited with the heat of the flamethrower blast, providing enough light for him to fire his rocket directly into the droid that had wounded him.  The ensuing blast of electricity consumed two IG droids, while the last combatant fired a sonic blast at Boba Fett.  His helmet immediately dampened the explosion of sound, while he quickly dispatched the survivor with a wave of blaster bolts aimed directly at the droids head.
Fett paused for a moment to pull the shards of metal out of his shoulder.  More would come.  He could hear them already. 
Boba Fett armed another ion rocket, and continued down the hallway in the direction of the bridge. 

-------
<they are resourceful>
//summon mo/re enit/ies//
71-13Y 4123 637711\1 (1053
THE FORCER CAN SEE ME
qu3ry, how?
I DON'T KNOW, BUT HE WANTS ME...
<you kn0w what you Have to do, then>
YES
-----

The true strength of the BeasT had yet to reveal itself.  While Jin and Boba Fett fought off automated turret-guns protecting the bridge from intrusion, and reinforcements of IG-92 droids moving in from the other direction, a new threat massed silently on the other side of the ship.  A combined force of Terminax assasin droids, 2.2 meters tall with a blaster and frag grenade launcher built into each arm, and retractable vibroblades as well, gathered alongside five shielded droidekas, more relics purchased by the Falleen to protect his treasure from the scum that invaded the BeasT.  They had recieved orders from the superior enities; to wait for the hunters to return from the bridge, and destroy the meat-bags who violated their master's ship.

Dropping out of hyperspace, Nate looked to see a few ships gathered around the ship he figured to be the Promised Jewl.
Well, looks like I'll be having some company with me, but they won't be there for long, even if they already have what I want, I'll pry it from their cold, dead hands.

Linking up with the jewl, he entered the ship. Reaching deep into the force he found there where a couple other hunters inside the Jewl. One he could definetly tell was Fett, the others he couldn't tell so easily. With a devious smirk on his face, he creeped down the hall, they didn't know what they were hunting, but he did, and he would steal it, and the million credit reward right under there noses.

The blast doors opened, and Arcuse and Sathik immediately saw...nothing. Just bare, durasteel walls and bulkheads laid into the framework every few meters. The Ubese shone the beam of his glowrod down the corridor, but it met yet another wall only a few meters in front of him. A corner.

Alright, so sight’s useless. There could be an army beyond that corner for all we know, just waiting for one of us to stick his head around the corner. But seeing isn’t the only way to locate an enemy, we could always-

“You hear that?” Sathik asked to his friend, the dark hunter’s voice hushed and hurried.

He did. It was only when he strained his ears to listen that Arcuse noted the slight grinding sounds coming from around the corner. He nodded his affirmation to his friend, tightening his grip on his BlasTech. The noise seemed to be some piece of rusty machinery; but that didn’t tell him much, who knew how long it had been before anything living had set foot on this ship, much less performed basic maintenance.

“Sounds like something hasn’t been oiled in awhile.” Sathik said again, lining up his shotgun’s iron sights. “Like metal on metal...droids?”

“Indeed.” Arcuse rasped, the coarse sound he emitted sounding not unlike the rusty grind they were hearing now.

“Grenade?” His friend asked beside him, almost eager to hear a positive response.

“Not yet.” The Ubese said absent-mindedly, trying to see in his mind’s eye how far the droids were from the corner by their sound alone. It wasn’t the simplest of tasks; then again, it wasn’t the hardest either.

“Then wh-”

“Now!” The rock-on-rock voice of the alien-hating Ubese rose as high as his vocal chords would allow – barely more than a hoarse whisper. He and Sathik primed and threw grenades in perfect tandem, bouncing them around the corner and into whatever make of droids had been sent to kill them. The pair waited for the twin explosions, then dashed down the short corridor and around the corner, firing as soon as they had targets.

Look like B-2s. Thought all of those got scrapped during the Clone Wars. Guess I was wrong. Arcuse thought.

And then there was no more time to think, just time to kill. The Ubese’s E-11 belched fire in his hands, aiming for the B-2’s (or SBD’s, as the clones used to call them) depressed, oval-shaped heads. His aim was as precise as ever, and during the first two seconds of the encounter he’d blasted four of the super battle droids, he and Sathik having already wasted a full half of them with their grenades. The Ubese took a solid hit to the chest as he stood motionless firing his rifle, but his armor absorbed most of the impact, the bolt didn’t penetrate the plasteel plates,

Sathik worked through the last 3 ½ droids (one was minus a pair of legs) with brutal efficiency. The first went down with a shotgun blast to the torso, blowing the droid off its feet and drawing forth an eruption of flames and smoke. He paused to duck a blaster bolt before acquiring his second target, which met a fate very similar to its most recently-killed companion. Throwing himself sideways to avoid another volley of crimson projectiles, Sathik rolled to a crouch, worked his slugthrower’s pump-action, and gunned his third victim’s legs out from under it. The B-2 fell to the floor with a resonating clang, and looked back at the dark hunter just in time to witness its own execution by Sathik’s spreadgun.

The last crippled droid made itself known with a poorly-aimed burst of fire, and was promptly put down by another of Sathik’s thunderous gunshots. Then, there was silence, save for the constant sparking of disabled droids which now littered the ground.

“Mate must’ve had a fried targeting computer, courtesy of our frags I’m guessing.” The shotgun-wielding hunter commented, referring to the legless droid and its ineffective last stand.

Something’s not right again. That voice was whispering in Arcuse’s ear again, sewing paranoia into the Ubese’s logical, virtually fearless mind. It was too easy. Ancient, rusted battledroids? You think they wanted you dead? No, whoever’s running this show is just testing your strength, gauging what it’s up against. I’d be careful if I was you soldier-boy, because this thing’s not like anything you’ve-

Enough. It was Arcuse’s own mind that finally got a chance to speak now, entering this psychotic, schizophrenic conversation. You’ve said what useful advice you had, now let me get back to killing things.

There was no response.

“It was too easy.” The Ubese rasped, now out loud. That second voice of his had been right about that much at least, and the part that followed. “Whoever’s in command of this ship was just testing our strength. Wouldn’t have complained if the droids had killed us, but I don’t think he really expected them to.”

“So, what, you want to go back for more weapons? You’ve got some nice ion pieces in that arsenal of yours. EMP grenades might not hurt either.” Sathik said, thinking more weaponry might set aside of his friend’s edginess.

“We’ll re-arm, but that won’t solve all our problems. We need to find out where the real Promised Jewel is, and maybe disable this vessel’s weaponry before taking off again. The Morbis Ferre can’t take any amount of sustained fire from this thing; we already almost got vaped coming in, and I don’t want to die without a gun in my hand, unaccompanied by a host of corpses.”

“Right, right, warrior’s death and all that. So, we get guns now?” Sathik said inquisitively, raising an eyebrow as he looked at his black-clad friend, the armor of whom was still smoking, giving him a frightfully god-like appearance.

“Yes.” Arcuse sighed, “We get guns now.”

They backtracked through the short, metallic tunnel, and arrived back at the Ubese’s Skipray in mere seconds. Arcuse unlocked the craft, lowered the cargo ramp, and followed Sathik into his ship. Coming back to the Morbis Ferre, unlocking it, re-arming, and then re-sealing it would be a timely process, but both of them would rather be prepared; and besides, until they had a reason to hurry, they could take all the time they needed as long as it didn’t put them too far behind in the hunt.

“Those droids looked like they hadn’t been taken care of for a few dozen years at least.” Sathik said, strapping an ion blaster to his right thigh. “I don’t think there’s anything alive on this ship, except for us and the other hunters, so we can concentrate on ion weapons for now.”

“Indeed.” Arcuse rasped his usual response. He removed the grenade launcher from under his E-11’s barrel and added a cut-down ion caster to the BlasTech’s accessory rail. After confirming that it had a full charge, the Ubese exchanged half his fragmentation grenades for special-made ion ones, noticing that Sathik had done the same. The human had of course kept his shotgun and S-5, but his personal armaments now included the ion weapons he’d selected as well.

More or less satisfied with their weapons, the pair left the Morbis Ferre again, sealed it off, and made their way back to the blaster-scorched location of their brief skirmish with the droids. The corridor kept going for a few dozen meters, finally ending at a pair of turbolift shafts.

“Think they’re still working?” Sathik asked, looking towards his armored friend.

“The weapons were.” The Ubese said simply, and stepped up to the lift on the right.

“Good point.” Sathik conceded, following Arcuse and waiting for the lift to get down to them. Apparently, the last person to use this had gone to the bridge, or whatever was on the higher levels of this damnable cruiser. The glowing numbers showing which level the lift platform was currently on began winking out as it descended. The countdown stopped at Level 5 (which was apparently the level they currently occupied), and the two bounty hunters readied their weapons. The doors slid open, revealing an empty platform.

Too easy again. Whispered that bodiless voice. There should’ve been a bomb on that car, or more droids; anything to slow your progress. Think about it soldier-boy, that’s what you’d have done had you been in command of this ship.

“But we don’t even know if there is someone in command here.” Arcuse hissed under his breath, speaking, to put it simply, to himself. “Mayhap it’s just a few droids that remained active. The turbolasers could always have been set to defend the ship if anything fired in close proximity to it, as sai Sathik did.”

He knew that this was unlikely, and that there was probably something in control of the ship, but he’d try anything to get this voice in his head to shut up and let him work. To his surprise, the voice didn’t respond, and he was able to bring his attention back to the real world.

Sathik stood on the lift platform, eyeing his friend strangely. The Ubese didn’t know if the plagued hunter had heard him talking to himself, but he hoped silently that he hadn’t.

“You comin’?” Sathik asked, tapping his foot in a mock gesture of impatience. Arcuse walked into the lift beside his companion, but gave no verbal response. As much as he hated to admit it, the thing in his head was right. Something was trying to stop them, and the fact that he didn’t know what it was or why this ghost ship was even here made him uneasy. Arcuse of the Ubese gripped his E-11 tightly, and watched the level-indicator relight the numbers one by one as the lift platform rose.

As Arcuse and Sathik rode the turbolift to the bridge, Nate waited in the corridors, and Jin fought alongside Boba Fett against the automated turrets, the enities on the bridge waited.
Twenty long-since obsolete SD-7 battle droids, giant hulks armed to the teeth with blasters, frag grenade launchers, and flechette cannons, stood alongside their master, the lone astromech who carried the true location of the Jewel.
a dozen 1G-92's, superior versions of the IG-88 series, flanked by six Commerce Guild Dwarf Spider Droids, waited at the turbolift enterance...ready to destroy any intruder who entered the room.
Their mettle had been tested.  Now for the final challenge...only those worthy to find the Jewel would exit the room alive.

And the Terminax droids still wait...lurking in the shadows...

Finally deciding he didn't want to wait any longer he crept more along the hall. Opening a door he just found more and more halls.
This is hopeless, he thought, I need something to happen, something to point me in the right direction
So, sitting down he meditated, it would come, he could feel it.

Boba Fett fought off the last of the attack droids, blasting it to smithereens, scattering it’s metallic guts down the corridor already paved with the singed joints and wires of his recent kills.

He heard a warning to watch his back. It came from Jin Sarin, at war with a never ending barrage of laser bolts. His eyes glowed an eerie, unnatural orange, and he moved at a pace too fast for the eye to track. Fett knew it wouldn’t be long before the frenzied fight would wear the human down, no matter what evil powered his body.

He took a moment to assess his current options, studying both the destroyed droids, and the hall of death.

The ship controls the droids. The idea had merit, and dictated a much different course of action.

Fett double timed it back from the direction he first came, leaping over the discarded metal carcass of an IG-88 and kicking through the remains of a cortosis droid. Beside the lift tube was a narrow silver panel.  Fett fired two judiciously placed shots, and the panel edges peeled back. He pulled it back the rest of the way and exposed the repair access remote array.

From one of his many utility pockets he removed Jango’s electronic lock breaker, the one he’d since modified with the highest tech slicer chip money and blatant intimidation could procure, and jacked into the main computer databanks.  He didn’t have the raw speed required for this task, but Slave’s computers certainly did, and part of his modifications included a link to Slave’s main system.

"Slave I, override main computer, shut down all security protocols."

Light arced back as the computer attempted a reject burst of energy, but his device held.

Initiating lock down sequence Slave I’s synthetic voice drifted softly inside of Fett’s helm. Unable to disengage without closing down atmospheric life support.

Fett considered the dark force user in the main corridor. Then he remembered the Creed. “Send alert over the main com five seconds to loss of oxygen, keep active countdown.”

**
The beast fought for electronic supremacy against an unprecedented assailant: the main computer of Slave I. No matter the datapath it took, no matter the attempt to transfer virus, Slave outwitted the beast at every turn. Slave fought on, brutally assaulting the decoy ship’s systems with pure aggression and ruthless precision that was somehow more than simple programming.

One by one, the walls fell.  Droid by droid, the army powered down.  And as the last of the defenses caved before the superiority of the system created by Jango and then further grown by Boba, the beast died.

Slave I’s main computer sensed the defeat, and enacted the countdown, broadcasting it over the main com.

Five seconds to life support shut down

To the master it then spoke. System override complete. Await further instruction.

No time passed, and the command came. “Re-initialize comsec and code sequences, then cut access at remote and main stations. Route all system access through my datapad wristlink, or comlink, standard recognition protocol in place.”

Slave complied immediately, ever ready, ever vigilant as it waited for the next command.

"Search main data banks for location of Promised Jewel."

The Slave filtered the data and responded. External storage; Astromech Droid. Location: main bridge.

***
Lasers raced past him while some disembodied voice, neither male, nor female, droned on over the main come.

One second to life support shut down

The sith spirit powered his swings and guided them with unerring precision, but Jin and his body knew there wasn’t much left in reserves to keep going.  And now the life support systems were on autoshut down.  Jin prayed to the maker and what ever gods governed the realm of sheer luck , that the weapons system would shut down too. He took a deep gulp of air and kept up the fight.

Life support shut down complete.

The safety lights cut off. The lasers stopped.  All went silent.

Jin fumbled for his breath mask, his arms wrung out from the prolonged battle. He managed to find it and secure it to his head, then he fell to his knees and breathed long and hard.  The sith spirit was blessedly mute.

For a moment Jin remained in repose, collecting the shreds of strength, and sanity, but the sound of rapidly approaching footfalls rallied him back.

He summoned the sabers.  In the darkness, they were a muted beacon, pulsing red like the blood in his veins. They cast a wide radius of murderous light that reached to the foot of the hall.   He turned to face the end of the corridor, mentally preparing for another battle, when a familiar figure charged into view.

Fett, in his Mandalorian armor, was a sight for sore eyes.

“What took you so long?”  Jin let one of the sabers retreat, and reached for a lightstick stored on his belt. 

“When you came in here, didn’t you have a plan for getting out?”  Fett’s voice was as mechanical and lifeless as a droid.  His long, ground eating strides took him quickly to the bridge doors.  “Never mind answering, Sarin, I didn’t think you would. You can thank me later.”

Fett gave the newest obstacle a moment of consideration. “Slave I, open bridge blast doors.”

A great clanking sounded onerously, and the doors began to part.

“Watch out for the astromech, Fett.”  Jin jogged the last steps to stand beside the lethal legend. “He’s the mastermind of this ship.”

**
Fett spied the astromech attempting to plug into the computer system as Jin issued his warning.

“Slave I, neutralize the mech.”

A blast of energy erupted from the instrument panel, enveloping the astromech in a shower of blue light.  It squealed, blew back into a console support pillar, and toppled over with a clang.

Fett approached with caution and kicked it a few times just in case.  When it didn’t respond, he shouldered his blast rifle, and pulled out the same modified electronic lock breaker.  Then he exposed the necessary innards and jacked into the droid. 

“Find the location of the Jewel.”  Fett pulled out a restraining bolt and locked the droid down. He saw the dark force user in his helm read out as Sarin approach from behind.  His lean, haggard face was a study in torment.

“Don’t be stupid, kid.  You don’t want to die.”

“Maybe I won’t.” His muffled voice echoed across the dusty air of the bridge, rattling amongst the immobile droid army sitting in useless assembly.

Fett stood and faced off against Sarin.  “Cross me and I’ll dust you, same as the next barve.”

He watched as an internal struggle played out on Sarin’s face and in his eyes.  They flashed briefly, a heated redish orange the very color of hell fire, then they cooled.  The saber blade vanished. “You’re right. I don’t want to die.”

Download complete Slave I’s alert was welcome.  Fett didn’t think Sarin would be able to contain himself much longer, or worse, contain what ever evil plagued his soul.

“Smart move.”  Fett righted the astromech and activated the droid.  “A smarter move? Get out of this game.  You’re out of your league.”

The kid shrugged.  “Can’t. I don’t have a choice. What I need requires a lot of credits, fast.”

“Stick to gambling, it’s more your speed.” As Fett backed out of the bridge, his rifle trained on Sarin, the astromech followed in tow, a subdued prisoner.  “Contact the Hutt, he’ll probably offer you salvage fees for this ship. And one last thing: don’t try and reactivate the ship’s systems. The thing is programmed to kill.”

**
Sarin watched his last hope depart with Fett.  The hunter’s words held truth.  There was value in this ship. Not as much as the Jewel, but, certainly enough to use as a starting bankroll.  Maybe enough to buy entrance into a floating high stakes gaming hell that operated on the Outer Rim.

You give up too easy, boy The sith spirit made him dizzy as it spoke. Search the ship.  There is more than just the astromech to be found.

With no other agenda, Jin decided to give it a shot, starting with where the Captain’s quarters would be, if there’d been an actual captain.  He rummaged around the dingy little cabin, and just when he’d thought to abandon the search, his luck changed. Concealed beneath the base of a desklamp he found a small datacylinder.  Jin pocketed the booty, and started the journey back to his ship.  He wasn’t out of the game just yet.

Sathik leaned against the side of the elevator lift, and turned to Arcuse, "So, we're just gonna wing it?"

Arcuse shrugged and continued to adjust the ion caster on his BlasTech, testing and getting used to the new weight.

"Nice." Sathik gave a wicked grin and cracked his knuckles with anticipation. The dark haired killer loved a challenge. Hated droids-but loved a challenge, and every fiber of lethal instinct in the two bounty hunters screamed about the danger that awaited them on the bridge.

Suddenly the lift jolted to a stop and the lights went out.

"Aw come on!" Sathik kicked the wall as Arcuse activated a glowrod.

Five seconds to life support shut down

"Gods damn it." Sathik sighed and grudgingly unhooked the breath mask hooked on his belt. The armored hunter next to the dark killer tried the control panel. When nothing happened he fired once at the small panel covering, which promptly cracked and fell to the ground.

Four seconds to life support shut down

Arcuse tested at the wiring and delicate apparatus with one hand. He pulled his hand back instintively when the device sparked once and then went dark.

"Fan-fricken-tastic." Sathik commented angrily, "I've always wanted to be stuck in an elevator."

Arcuse motioned toward the maintenance hatch on the ceiling, "Well then, let's remedy the situation."

Sathik pulled out his shotgun, fired once, and the hatch broke out of place with a satisfying Crack. He stuck it back into the holster on his shoulder, grabbed the edge of the opening  and pulled himself up. Arcuse  handed the glowrod up to his partner before he quickly followed after.

"There's a maintenance ladder over here, looks like it leads up to some mechanic repair and access platform." Sathik looked as far up as he could.

"Security Systems?" Arcuse asked.

"Everything's shut down." Sathik shook his head, stuck the glowrod in his belt and started climbing, and Arcuse followed shortly after.

life support shut down complete

"You know, the ship wouldn't have warned us about the life support." Sathik explained as he pulled dusty webbing out of his face and climbed up higher.

"No. That was a bounty hunter." Arcuse spoke with respect.

"Yeah, screw him. He's not getting our credits."

It was a long while before the two hunters finally reached the dusty, web covered access repair room. A repair droid stood lifeless next to a computer terminal. Sathik shoved the droid aside carelessly, crouched down to the computer's level, and tapped on a few control keys. Sathik whistled, "This is a pretty piece of work. Oh wow."

"Options?" Arcuse asked, analyzing his surroundings.

Sathik grinned and undid the latch on his boot, inside were three slicing ships. These pieces of contraband weren't for reprograming or hacking - Sathik didn't have either skill. One was meant to send a computer system into virtual cardiac arrest, the other was a highly infective virus, and the last was the one he was going to use.

"What's that?" Arcuse asked.

"This little trick," He stuck it in the data slot, "will force the entire system to reboot and start up again."

"Won't that turn the security systems back on?"

Sathik gave a sly grin, "We owe our bounty hunter friends downstairs the favor."

The BeasT, once vibrant with the activities of hundreds of battle droids awakening to combat the intruders, had fallen silent once again.  The deactivated shells that once constituted a devastating battalion littered the hallways, dead and lifeless hunks of machinery.
Yet one enity remained.
As the Slave I won the battle for control of the vessel, and shut down all combative droid unites within the ship, a specially programmed failsafe in the event that the BeasT should somehow be defeated.
The Falleen had spared no expense on this next level of defense, guarding his treasure from those who would wish to claim it for themselves.
A heavily modified Terminax Assassin droid, outfitted with a unique combat matrix, rocket launchers built alongside the blaster and grenade launcher within his arms, a heavily modified Enforcer slugthrower, and other hidden suprises for any who dared to challenge it. 
HUN-89, draped in a long trenchcoat concealing his tall droid chassis, moved slowly through the tight corridors of the ghost ship, marching in the direction of a tiny escape pod concealed beneath the vessel.  Without his droid familiars, HUN saw no reason to stay aboard the BeasT.  He would fall back to his masters next line of defense; the tiny, unnamed planetoid which the ship orbited around.  There, he would make the meatbags pay for their intrusion...

Why in the hell did they shut off the damn life support thought Nate.
He had heard the warning and quickly pulled on his breather before the light went out. Getting up he walked around a bit. He didn't need a light, in fact, the dark was more peaceful, that's why he decided to follow that path. People, when they found the true him, always scorned him in his practices. They thought he was evil, but that wasen't true, he didn't even like killing very much, blood and gore didn't apeal to him very much. Suddenly a powerful surge came though in the Force, So it seems I'm not the only one.

After about 15 min. he came across a door that looked promising. He walked inside, it was the Captin's quarter's. Suddenly he heard a noise. Covering himself with dark energy he hid from view. The dark Jedi walked in. He watched him rumage through some junk and slip a data bank of some kind into his belt pouch, then slip out to rejoin Fett. And so the first stage is over, finding the Jewl is over, now the second has begun, getting it back to the slug, Jabba the Hutt

A sinister whirring, coupled with a malevolent mechanical moaning, followed by the unmistakable sound of engines powering up, raised the hair on the back of Jin’s neck.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he muttered to himself in the dark, empty corridor of the decoy vesssel.

Safety lights ignited, slicing through the gloom like a ready saber.

“A real bad feeling.”  Jin picked up his pace, switching from cautious walk to a fast double time.  All he had to do was reach the end of this corridor, get into the air lock, disengage his ship, and get the hell out of this sector of space and far away from this death trap.  “So many things, so little time.”

*

The decoy ship powered up. Strands of code slipped through the electric consciousness of the ship’s main computer. But that main computer had tangled with Slave I, and the wounds were fresh. Precious strings of data frayed and snapped. Key elements of code scattered like pearls falling from a torn necklace, fanning out across the computer network, rolling into the most unlikely areas. The major programming tried to walk but it slipped on these wayward pearls and it fell, in a most dangerous, and devastating way.

The droid army woke. But the instructions were garbled, the leader suffering from a systemic and crippling aphasia. The metallic assassins aboard the ship of death knew they had to fight, but they didn’t know who. So they turned on one another. And as they began a battle as epic as it was ill-fated, the main computer had the final, lethal stroke.  Then the self destruct sequence triggered.

*
“Bloody, friggen’, useless ship!”  Jin pounded the control panel to no avail.  The doors to the mated airlock, the safe passage to his ship, would not open.

“Guess we do this the old fashioned way.”  He pulled out his saber, summoned the blade, and drove it through the metal door, pushing it up to the very hilt.

Sparks showered around him.  Metal turned molten. The blade wanted to retreat, but his frustration held it fast as he muscled it through his latest obstacle to success.  Centimeter by centimeter he severed.  He needed to break the connection between the overlapping panels, then he was home free.  He figured he’d need a minute, maybe a few more.

A sonerous alarm began to pulse across the com system of the ship, an unmistakable tolling of a death knell.  Sentient space travelers the galaxy over were hard wired to recognize this sound on an innate level.  Jin went cold.  “Self destruct.”  Excellent.  Could his luck get any better?

He pushed on with renewed vigor, his energy fed by his will for self-preservation, and at last, the door and metal gave way to the saber and his desperation.

Thankfully, the opening to his ship was easier to muscle through.  It had a manual safety feature the previous door lacked.

Jin raced to his cockpit and attacked the console, making ready for hasty flight.  His engines powered up, but it would be precious moments before he could detach and launch.  He hoped only two things:  that he’d cut loose in time to save his miserable skin, and that the data cylinder he found held something worth the outrageous risk.

As the ship made ready, he locked into the pilot’s chair, and pulled out the cylinder. In the better lighting he was able to make out scratchings that were, on closer inspection, actual words.

He studied the letters for a moment, sounding out the foreign words at the same time his mind made the translation.  “Maintenance logs.”

Sathik stared at the computer terminal as the self destruct alarms blared and the shattered systems struggled to work, scrolling useless fragments of data.

"What?"  Arcuse rasped at his partner, "No witty remark?"

"It's turning out to be a lovely day." Sathik smiled weakly still staring at the computer as a dark hell of machinery and technology began to twist and groan between life and death around the two hunters.

"Come on!" Arcuse pulled out a weapon and moved back towards the lift platform. Sathik snapped into survival mode,  quickly selected the lift controls preset a quick oneway trip and deactivated all the safety--Sathik threw his arms in front of his face as the terminal overloaded. The dark killer jumped after his partner. Time was non-existent. They had to get back to the Morbus Fere now.

The elevator lift rose like a shrieking runaway train without the safety measures, crunching to a halt at the top in a sparking almost explosive clash of metal.

Let's go!" Sathik shouted over the chaos, and grabbed a hold to the top, Arcuse hardly seconds behind him. The lift suddenly dropped into a dead fall, getting faster and faster without the repulsors, breaks, or anything else to slow its fall.

One Shot. Sathik pulled out his S-5 and fired the grappling hook screaming in his mind the bounty hunter's version of a prayer.

YOU BETTER WORK YOU [edited for content] PIECE OF [edited for content] [edited for content]!!!!

Arcuse grabbed tightly onto Sathik's shoulder harness.The dark hunter cried out as the life saving cord tightened, and the two hunters swung into the duracreet wall. The lift slammed explosively somewhere far below them in the black abyss of the shaft. Struggling from the pressure of the weight, Sathik grimmaced painfully and grit his teeth as the lethal partners were pulled closer to the the lift opening Sathik had pre-set. Arcuse quickly reached up with his free hand and grabbed a hold, and shoved Sathik up into the corridor. The faceless, armored and heavily armed hunter was easily strong enough to pull himself up.

They didn't need to shout at each other to hurry. The injured ship started to shake uncontrollably in its very own death spasms. Lights flashed and shattered. Droids down the corridor lit up the hall with their unguided and crazed blaster fire.

Arcuse immediately pulled out his modified E-11 and picked off the confused pieces of scrap metal while the two hunters charged down the hall. There was hardly a challenge as they rushed madly through the destructive discord of what was left of the ship. They finally reached the familiar air lock. Sathik had sprinted ahead and uselessly tried the controls, as Arcuse gave cover fire. There wasn't time to be angry. Arcuse saw the problem and quickly stuck a Detonation pack to the air lock.

The two hunters took cover in the hall. The ship shuddered and jolted from the explosion. Arcuse had already tapped the controls on his gauntlet to start the Fere as they made one last mad dash. Sathik had sprinted ahead and with one hand opened the door, so Arcuse could run to cock pit uninterupted. Another wracking jolt and the two hunters both nearly lost their feet. The ship seemed to take forever to detach from the self-destructing death trap, but finally launched with a powerful thrust of the engines.

Arcuse locked in the safety harness, still busy at the ship's controls. Back in the corridor, Sathik  quickly forced his dislocated shoulder excruciatingly into place.

"Nnnggh." The dark killer sunk against the ladder to the gun turret breathing heavily.

Hopefully they weren't out of the game yet.

Dude, there are alot of posts on here.  Ya'll could make a whole book out of this material....nice....

                                                              {MW} MS9