Kal Vonnar

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About Kal Vonnar

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  1. Kal observed the merchandise with interest. Okay, what was he going to buy? He was a smuggler, he might as well start owning up to it... but then, he needed to look for something he could use. Something useful. Something that wouldn't draw too much attention and yet, still would be important... wait. There was a rebreather. He hadn't had one of those before... not in a long time anyway. "How much for the rebreather?" Kal asked the merchant. "For that. 1,000 credits," the merchant told him. "No problem," Kal said, handing to the merchant the 1,000 credits. He grinned sheepishly Karter's way. He knew what he was doing... at least, for the moment. "Here you are. Finest rebreather available," the merchant said, passing to him a rather fancy rebreather. "Does it work properly?" Kal asked, testing the rebreather, barely spending a minute with the thing wrapped around his nose and mouth. "It'll work fine. What else do rebreathers do?" the merchant told him. Kal right away took it off. It seemed all right. At least he could breathe in it. "Now, let me see. What else to find?" He hoped he didn't take too long or annoy Karter with his shopping. Still, it was worth the trip.
  2. Kal left the craft to the Hutt. They were in good hands now, but it was sad to see his family heirlooms (yes, he was including the rifles) be sold to anyone, particularly a Hutt. As far as he could remember, he didn't exactly have any love for the Hutts. They were the one creature he couldn't stand, particularly for his own reasons. They were selfish. They knew hardly nothing about self-sacrifice. All they cared about was money. From his past, there had been a fallout once between his parents and the Hutts. The arrangement was over the one Hutt, who Kal hardly recalled its name, taking about three crates filled with the ceremonial rifles for a low sum. He already could sense it was a bad thing to do, let alone seek out this Hutt. His parents did raise the price and ended up with a good amount of money, but why were his parents selling weapons to the Hutts in the first place? To keep an alliance between them. He admitted he loved his parents and his family, but there were some things even he wish he could have done better. it was no wonder he left Alderaan in the first place. "Karter, do we really have to barter with Hutts?" Kal asked, the minute they were away from Rajekk's ears. "Couldn't we have sold the rifles to someone better? I know my parents sell their rifles at much higher prices. They're a specialty weapon, true, but... I have my own faults with the Hutts. My parents sold weapons to them. The same weapons you sold to this Hutt. its one reason why I left Alderaan. But to do this again... don't you think we've picked the wrong buyer?"
  3. Kal nodded. "Understood." Well, if he was to get somewhere in life as a smuggler, this would have to do. Taking his time, as much time as there could be, he set the ship in autopilot and charged off towards his cabin. He sighed. Well, he made a little effort in decorating his room, with some pictures of his friends, who he abandoned and stunned back home. It wasn't the best reminder, but it would do. At least, he knew what would happen if he returned home to Alderaan... he would be in trouble for sure. The police uniform certainly gave way to a more durable asset. Besides, the given color choice, which was black, the uniform fortunately had that vest. Well, at least Karter was sensible there. He strapped on the clothes, checked the suit twice to make sure his chest wasn't too bulky and returned to the cockpit. In haste, he flipped the autopilot switch to manual control. Good. That was done. Now, he needed to find the docking bay and reach the planet's surface, beforehand. He looked above his head. It had gone from inky black to a swelling on sunlight. Well, this was it. This was where his smuggling expertise would come in handy. He looked around for his employer. Surely, Karter would want to know they had arrived. "Karter, we're here." They were in the docking bay. He pressed the button for the landing gear. The ship docked with ease. He sighed. So far, so good. Now on to get those weapons.
  4. Kal nodded, pressing a few buttons and easing on the thrusters. The silver handles helped ease up on the piloting, which was good, but also more so for him to see the planet with its blinking golden lights on the planet's surface. In all honesty, this was his first time heading for Nar Shaddaa and already he felt at home here. Maybe he could do the job of a smuggler, but that would mean he would have to kill Jedi... great. But which Jedi would he kill? "And if they don't negotiate? What then, Karter?" Kal asked, softly but loud enough for his Dark Jedi employer to hear. It was a good question, but even that didn't ease his confusion and nervousness. Sure, he would get the shipment ready for selling, but just what were they facing? What did the Rejekk look like? Come on, he knew he recognized species... but not all of them. Oh boy. Just what was he getting himself into?
  5. Kal watched Karter leave the room. He was alone, but this time being alone and being caught inside a ship that was a near nightmare was not what he had in mind. All around him, there was an unease about the ship. He felt like someone was watching him in this part of the ship. He had to get up and leave. Or at least head to the cockpit. That seemed about the safest place to be at. Finding his bearings, Kal fled from the room, only to meet the gaze of the painted red pentagrams. There was no questioning how he felt. Blood. Ghosts. Someone must have owned this ship and killed a few men. He hadn't experienced much killing. Nor did he wish it. But just what was required to be a smuggler? Maybe he should have looked into the job more, before he delved into it firsthand. And if he couldn't be a smuggler, the time after he and Karter finished their chores, then maybe he could try another trade. Maybe that's what counted. At last, after turning the corner in a rounded hallway, he found himself back in the cockpit. At least, piloting would keep him occupied from whatever ghosts lived aboard Karter's ship. He had to do something. Anything. To keep him occupied.
  6. Kal looked about his room for a few seconds. This was his home. His new home. Not the palace life that he was used to. But the only way he'd plan on returning to Alderaan is if fate brought him there, or if he was stupid enough to get caught and dragged back to his home world either way. Nah. He chose this life and this was what he would do from now on... just not kill Jedi. He wasn't that stupid. Maybe he could go easy on them, but yet... and all of these thoughts happened in a quick few seconds. He heard Karter loud and clear. But a question was forming in his mind, one he couldn't ignore. "You didn't tell me who you were when we first met. Was that because you didn't trust me? Or were you trying to hide from someone? Did you have a rough life?" Kal thought it best to ask these questions. Sure, he'd know the ship after a while, but this was important. Although Karter may or may not see it, but he did get him out of the mess he made down on the planet... then again, he had put Karter in that state in the first place. Well, maybe he would pay him back someday. "Also, I got you into that mess down there. Sorry about that. Maybe I can make it up to you someday." It was the best he had, but at least he was getting somewhere... or starting to.
  7. Whoa. Kal had not expected that reaction from his new Dark Jedi friend... or maybe he should say employer-employee at the moment. Well hey, if all worked out well, then he'd be off to a great start at becoming a smuggler. And there was the ship... he whistled in delight. She sure was a beauty for a freighter. Not a junker, he hoped. He wasn't sure if he was ready to fly junker ships yet. But yes, there was always the possibility for... "I don't think I've come across a ship like that, Gait. And yes, I'm a pilot. I've trained and trained over the years. Love to pilot ships," Kal said, as he rushed inside, making his way into the cockpit and into the pilot's seat. There were the buttons. Oh, how was he to... okay, this button worked like this. And that button worked that part. The engine was roaring, he had the ship ready for flight. He turned to Gait, wondering, "Can you co-pilot? I'm sorry back there. Spur of the moment. There was so much going on... yeah." With all his expertise, so far the ship was ready for take off. He just needed to... yes, they were flying out of the docking bay.
  8. Kal gulped. The lump was still in his throat. He couldn't believe what he saw. As much as he wanted little to do with Jedi, just to find out his companion was a Jedi... how was he to cope with that? And that Jedi just killed one of his own, Light or Dark. Wasn't there any mercy? "I may want to be a smuggler, but I've always questioned the Jedi. And you're a Jedi, Gait," Kal spoke up, serious. "Don't tell me I have to do this as part of the job. Killing Jedi." He shook his head. "I won't do it. I have respect for the Jedi, even though I don't fully trust their codes. What is that about?" He made his way into the speeder, willing to ask a few more questions. He still couldn't get enough of the red flames on the gold plated speeder. "And who are you really? That Jedi has guarded my family for years. And you just flat out killed him? What sort of a man does that to people?" He added, with a little remorse. "If I choose the smuggler's life, I do it under my terms. I don't kill Jedi."
  9. "I nearly forgot we had those, the sonic pistols," Kal said with a wide smile, as he carried the small crate. "This palace has a boatload of junk my parents would gladly give away. Prized, maybe, but eh... yeah, let's focus on getting out of here." He glimpsed up at a stain glass window of a baby in his mother's arms. The mother had dark chestnut hair and her dress was orange. The baby was in a blue jumper, but smiling giddily. He looked happy... happy enough for Kal to look away. These stain glass windows were nothing more than memories now. Memories he would have gladly chosen to forget. In truth, smuggling was about the only job he could think of at the moment, where he could travel the galaxy, visit planets he had only dreamed of seeing. It would be worth it in the end. His mind returned fast to the present. The garage was on this wing, and he found it no problem. Already, it was empty except for two soldiers. He hated seeing them ready to strike his new friend Gait, but whatever his new employer wanted to do in this room was beyond him. Just where could he find a place... there was another sonic pistol. No. There were three of them, grey cased and modified, but complete with the red flames painted over the gold backdrop. His family's colors. Why hadn't he seen these before, until now? What were his parents hiding that they didn't want him to know? "How many of these sonic pistols are in this palace?" Kal asked, just as the soldiers looked up at him. He swiped up his blaster and fired, stunning the one soldier in front of him. Hopefully, Gait got the other soldier.
  10. "I just wanted more freedom," Kal said, as they neared the storage room. "My family has wealth, but they're very protective of their children. I didn't have much of a say in the matter over the arranged marriage. I was told by my father once: 'you live the good life, you hear, son? The wild's no place for a boy, such as you'." He couldn't help quoting his father, as he searched for more valuables. Seemed like the right place to do it. "They said I wasn't built for battle, and here I am. But I'll show 'em. Call me weak again..." "Ah ha! Found something!" Kal said, opening one of the boxes. "These are the same ceremonial rifles that you have, and I collected. They're worth a lot on the black market, right? The trick here is getting them to your ship. Unless you were looking for something less heavy to carry?" He knew there were other valuables in this storage room, but given the time, the rifles might be the only thing worth collecting. He just hoped he wasn't wrong when the armada came, hint hint... okay, he meant when the soldiers arrived. Oh, his parents would kill him for stealing sleek, elegant rifles, but it was a fair trade to the life he had. Weakling. He was not weak. He would prove that he wasn't.
  11. Kal understood he needed some practice. But as for valuables... well, he hadn't expected to become a criminal. Wait a second, what was he thinking? Smugglers were criminals and he was now a part of the criminal syndicate. He pulled out his prized jeweled brooch. It was so large and weighed a few pounds. Maybe he could... BEEP! BEEP! Oh great. The alarms went off. They needed an escape route... oh right. "This way." He moved a large steel lid out of the way, revealing a hidden passageway. "I use this way to get to the east wing. No one goes to the east wing, hardly, except for when there's a meeting in session. We should be fine, for now. Come on." He slid inside, moving his way through the various pipe network and stone floor. He couldn't imagine why no one used this passage. He just hoped no one spotted them first. Was the vent door closed? He wasn't going back to check. He took another turn. The passage grew wider and less narrow. He was coming to an automatic door. It opened. Great. He was in the east wing, close to an exit. Was Gait following him? He wasn't leaving a man behind, not in this instance. Not when he just been hired to do smuggler's work.
  12. "What did you do? Stun them?" Kal pressed two fingers against one of the guard's throat. He sighed in relief. "Oh good. He's still alive. Good. Because I don't think I could swallow..." He was sadly interrupted by an oncoming group of soldiers. Good thing he still had the blaster on stun. "Master Vonnar, put the blaster down," said one of the soldiers, readying his blaster. "Gentlemen, can't we discuss this like civilized men?" Kal asked, cheekily. "Ah, a wise guy. Eh?" said the same guard, hardly amused. He turned to his fellow soldier, "Get a second patrol out." He turned to Kal, telling him, promptly, "We're not going to ask again. Let's head to the detention center. You'll be given some nice crumpets and tea. How does that sound?" "What do you think I am? Guilible?" Kal said, firing his blast. ZOOM! The blast worked, affecting the soldier and knocking him out cold. Kal smiled. Good. That was good. Uh oh. ZOOM! ZOOM! ZOOM! Kal watched as the soldiers collapsed on the floor, still breathing but not moving. He did it... again. He knew stunning was a piece of cake... gee, where was the cake? A blue frosted cake with lemony drops on top. He wanted some. Wait a second, what was going on today? Oh wait. Was it his birthday? No. His birthday was two weeks' ago. Then again... "Gait, I did it. But I've always known stunning to be an easy task," Kal said, storing his blaster in its leather sheath. But he wanted the more elegant weapon. "I've always wanted one of these." He said, observing the weapon with ease. He asked his new employer, "So Gait, any chance of seeing real action out there? I just stunned a bunch of soldiers."
  13. "Okay, first off, you're welcome. I distracted the guards," Kal spoke up, serious in tone. "Second, I made it out of the palace easily the first time without any trouble. Sure, I pulled a few strings, made some bad lip speeches or two. But anyway..." Oh, Gait was serious. "Oh, you want to know where the patrols are. They're this way." He couldn't stop to look at the dazzling array of stained-glassed windows. Even though they were nice to look at. Also, was it just him or was the floor extra shiny today? It must have if his clean leather boots were sliding across the floor. The ceiling was so tall... okay, now he was daydreaming. Shouldn't he help Gait find the exit or the patrols? Great. He was too used to the palace life to avoid looking where he was going... CLONK! He hit his head against a pillar. Not very formal. Okay, the patrols... oh wait. He just found them in one of the control rooms. They were observing a map of the stars. Should he blast them now? No, he would send an alarm. Now where was that stun button? He fingered his blaster, searching for the right button... ah. There it was. The stun button! But he and Gait needed to be very quiet. "Now, what's important here is to make sure the patrols aren't looking," Kal said to Gait. Anything was better than getting caught. How he survived the first round of sneaking, he hardly knew. Luck, he guessed. Yet distraction was all they needed in all but one scenario: why was he distracting himself? Was he so deft at not looking where he was heading... man, those seconds slipped away. Back to business!
  14. The last thing Kal wanted was to be caught, but Gait's jokes sure were funny. Oh right. Think light on his feet. Got it. Wait. He had to distract the guards somehow. He got himself into this jam the first time, and now Gait. He would have to be quick... "Hey pinheads," Kal spoke to the guards, "when was the next shipment?" "What shipment, Master Vonnar," one of the guards spoke. He got the hint. "Wait. Are you trying to sneak out again?" "Oh no, no, no," Kal spoke up. Was he doing good at distracting? Oh wait. He already knew this question... "Just as I thought," the same guard spoke, shrugging his shoulders. "Master Vonnar's delusional. We'll take him to medbay after we question him and his ruffian friend." "Why would you do that?" Kal asked, honest. "Illya's waiting for you. I don't think you'll disappoint," the second guard told him. "Oh, I beg to differ. What's that?" Kal asked, pointing to a stained glass painting. "How long has that been there?" He wanted to blast these two, but in the palace he was sure to draw attention to himself and to Gait. Hopefully, these guards were stupid enough not to notice what Gait was doing. "That. That is the line of Vonnar's painting, hand crafted about a decade ago," the first guard explained, reminiscing over the painting. "It's a real gem. The Vonnar line has always kept the peace on Alderaan. Bit reliable family and very smart..." That was the distraction Kal needed. Now to wake Gait. Kal did the only thing he could think of, as the guards told their story, poke Gait right in the chest and forehead. Hopefully, that would wake him up.
  15. Kal sat in the same spot. Wow. He just got credits and he didn't do anything yet. He looked at them as best he could. He really wanted this job. He wanted to be a smuggler. Why then did he think of the palace and the arranged marriage he could have had? Was smuggling truly what he wanted? Or was it something he could only guess at from afar? He watched Karter leave, determination melting away. Maybe he should head back, before... oh wait. Those robed guards sure looked familiar. Wait. "Kal Vonnar, you are to report back to the palace at once," one of the guards told him. "Your parents are looking for you. Glad we found you when we could." "I'm not going back. I think you've made a mistake," Kal told them. Maybe he could find another job that wasn't smuggling. "Who were you talking to just now?" the same guard asked, beside himself. "We came in here, looking for you, and here you are talking to a smuggler." "That isn't important. I've chosen my job," Kal told them. "The life of a criminal. Please, I think you've already achieved that by leaving the palace," the second guard told him, peeved. "You're coming with us. Illya wants to speak with you close and personal." Illya? She was the last girl Kal wanted to see right now. Maybe he was a criminal, but... oh those cold hands were so tight. "Let go of me," Kal said, unable to pull back and forced to follow the guards outside, where Karter stood. "Gait, you've got to help me. Tell these guards I've been with you this whole time." "Gait." The first guard addressed the Dark Jedi. "Your name's not Gait. No matter. You're coming, too. Now." "I'm going to regret this," Kal said, shaking his head.