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Karter last won the day on March 29

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125 Kind of a Big Deal

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About Karter

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    Knight Of Sangraal

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    Corruption I
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    (Light Freighter) XS Stock Light Freighter - 10SP
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    Alex Murphy
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  1. Karter rose from his meditation, properly focused now that he had immersed himself in his hatred. He exited his quarters, face concealed under his hood. He exited the ship, finding a Rodian in green combat armor escorted by bodyguards. "Rejekk will see you now, please follow us," the Rodian ordered them. Karter followed, calling out to Kal. "There's a cart next to the weapon cases, load them on and follow me." *** Rejekk's compound on Nar Shaddaa was deep in the urban center, an unassuming, converted and reinforced black office building about six stories high with gold tinted transparisteel windows. Karter and company were led past the security checkpoint at the front lobby. Karter took note of the surroundings in the interior. Creamy pastel walls and ceiling with amber running lights and a gold marble floor. The dozens of guards armed with slugthrowers caused Karter to realize Rejekk had told them about him. Fine. He could deal. The black doors ahead, giant and carved with simple engravings slid open revealing Rejekk the Hutt resting on a golden sofa, flanked by a golden protocol droid and two gold painted Twi-lek slaves wearing VERY little. Karter was reminded of that senator he had once rescued with Arkanus. He almost smiled but crushed the good memory. He had to focus on the now. Focus on the hate. The room was vast, filled with pilferred museum pieces from the Great Sith War. Ancient armor, mostly. "Mighty Rejekk, good to see you," Karter said with proper deference. He sweapt a hand behind him. "I bring you a minor gift. Sonic pistols, custom jobs from an Alderaanian palace. One of a kind. The Hutt spoke slowly. Karter sensed Rejekk seemed pleased. "Rejekk thanks you for your gift. He is prepared to offer you twelve thousand for the whole thing." Hmmph, not what Karter had been expecting but he could deal. He still had one more play though. Karter removed the lightsaber of the Jedi he had slain on Alderaan from his jacket. He flashed the blade on. It was yellow in color. Rejekk's eyes widened. He spoke quicker now to his droid. "Mighty Rejekk is prepared to offer you twenty four thousand credits for your rare, yellow bladed saber." "Done," Karter confirmed. "Rejekk is also prepared to offer you access to his markets as a gesture of gratitude," the droid continued. "Provided of course you are willing to accept his mission." "Of course. I and my employee stand ready to serve your interests." Rejekk spoke quicker in Huttese. "Mighty Rejekk wishes you to journey to an obscure planet of great danger known as Barab 1. It is an irradiated wasteland and uninhabitable in the daytime, and just barely tolerable at night. Severe torrential downpours. Vicious predators. You will be delivering a shipment of blaster cannons and grenades to a strong tribe of Barabel, so that they may wipe out a rival tribe. Complete this task, and you will be greatly rewarded. Not only with credits, but with something relevant to your situation..." Karter raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Rejekk snapped his stubby fingers, and a small cylinder was brought out, and the droid opened it. Karter stared at the drawing. It was a drawing of a curved hilt lightsaber. "I presume you have the scematic that goes with that drawing. One question...how? The Jedi guard such knowledge jealousy." "You are aware of the recent bombing of Tython?" The droid inquired. Karter had heard something about that. Satele Shan herself had been killed in it. And while he hoped his brother had survived, and maybe Brison, though his feelings towards her were VERY mixed, along with Inoy, for the rest, he merely regarded it as divine punishment from God, their Karma for destroying the Confederacy. To be honest, he had considered abandoning his crusade against the order then and there, but the Order needed to understand why such a thing had been rendered to their doorstep. It wasn't enough that Karma had exacted its wrath for the Jedi's hubris...the last confederate survivor had to render his own wrath before he was satisfied that the Jedi had been sufficiently punished. "I am," Karter answered. "I presume you managed to steal it?" "Not quite. When the wretched Jedi Order fled their temple, many attempted to carry multiple documents with them. Some were lightsaber schematics. When they were all captured, inside men who had managed to insert themselves into the teams responsible for cataloging all seized contraband and equipment seized documents also. As some were relatively unsecured, photos were taken before put into storage as originally intended. This was one of those documents," the droid finished. "As Rejekk is aware of your nature as a Dark Jedi, he is prepared to reward you with this should your mission on Barab be successful." Karter bowed. "I accept your mission. When do I leave?" "As soon as possible. Rest first, and avail yourself of our resident merchants on the second floor," the droid answered as cases of credits were dropped at Karters feet by surrounding guards. It was time to go shopping.
  2. "I don't think they won't negotiate on a relatively insignificant matter such as the weapons we stole. But if they decide to be stupid, be ready to shoot. You ever seen those ridiculously violent action holos where, like, people are all flying around, dual wielding blaster pistols and like, for whatever reason, when some one draws a pistol or opens fire, white little birds end up flying around super dramatic and shavit? Yeah, uh, don't do that. You will die. Painfully. Super painfully. Find cover and shoot from cover. Dual wielding is possible but it requires training I haven't had time to impart yet. Or if you can run and shoot, move from cover to cover. But, don't pull a weapon until I do. Oh, and, uh, you're gonna want to wear some armor. I got a stolen police vest with some durasteel plating. I think it'll fit you. Left it in your room this morning. It'll protect your chest, but not much else. Remember, follow my lead," he explained before getting up out of the co-pilot's seat. He headed to his quarters retrieving his own, personal red lightsaber. He had grown used to his weapon, had become one with it. He knew it now better than he knew the back of his own hand. He hid it up the sleeve of his own black jacket, getting into a lotus position and meditated, focusing on his rage and hatred towards the Jedi, shutting the door to his quarters with telekinesis. He had used the tip of his blade previously to trace a sign on its surface, in case Kal forgot his rule. It read, in large, jagged letters, KNOCK FIRST!
  3. Selona 18th 3632 bby Nar Shaddaa, orbit. Karter had been held up in orbit for hours by the pirates-in-all-but-name who actually controlled Nar Shaddaa at the behest of Hutt Gangsters. Their cruiser had forced the ship to stay in orbit while they checked his claims of a pre-arranged meeting with a mid level Hutt Gangster he had done business with on Brentaal. The Hutt in question, Rejekk The Hutt, was not among the most powerful. His ownings and interests were modest. But he was not without his weight either. Someone would get punished if they crossed him. Rejekk, it turned out, unlike a lot of Hutts, understood the value of restraint but was nonetheless rather vicious when crossed. But he was strangely cautious also. Karter liked that about Rejekk, interestingly enough. Karter had been stewing in the co-pilots seat for the past fifteen minutes, waiting for clearance. He was quaking with rage at being held up for so long, unable to do anything about his current situation as he waited. Finally, a ping on the comms caught his attention. "You've been cleared to land. Your arrangement with Rejekk will not be disrupted. But a warning first: WE may have beneficial arrangements with Rejekk, but other crews in orbit might not. Keep it in mind and be prepared to negotiate in the future," the voice of the male captain on the other end warned. "Understood," he said, turning to Kal in the Pilot's seat. "Pilot in slowly. And let me do the talking. I've done business with Rejekk once before. Don't let people brush against you...there are pickpockets everywhere. We'll likely be under observation the moment we enter the compound. After we land, prepare the weapon shipments we stole: Not good to enter a crimelord's lair without a gift. I'll talk price for them and then find out about this assignment he wanted me for. Above all show respect. Show no fear. They smell fear and will use it as weapon of intimidation," he instructed his new employee.
  4. Karter sighed, sitting down on one of the bunks. "It was a bit of both, to be honest," he answered. "I ain't clean Kal. You could say I had a rough life, but a lot of it was my choice. And yeah, I am in hiding...until I gather enough resources, enough strength, and strike," he answered. "I wouldn't sweat what happened on Alderaan...you're a rookie, it was to be expected, you making a rookie mistake." He rose up. "You can make it up to me by following orders and piloting. We'll get along just fine if you do that," He said, walking out of the room to leave Kal to his thoughts and heading to his private quarters. He took of his jacket, putting his lightsaber on a small stand next to three others. There was his original Jedi lightsaber, his most prized possession, and Isobelle and Ryleya's. He shuddered a bit, looking at hers, and then he went into a meditative position, focusing on his hatred and rage towards the order, still trying to think of a solution that would allow him that personal revenge he craved where the Jedi were concerned.
  5. Karter got aboard just as he heard shouting behind him. Seems the message had gotten out. He was aboard, closing the hatch just as Kal lifted off, smoothly at that, not all rickety like Karter. His value had doubled. He heard him shouting for a co-pilot. That he could handle. He headed into the cockpit, getting into the co-pilot's seat and handling engine power and other systems, watching through the viewport as Kal cleared the hanger, rocketing into the sky. Karter punched in the hyperspace coordinates for Nar Shaddaa. Heard the computer beep as the coordinates were activated and the hyperdrive warm up. After a tense few seconds they cleared the atmosphere and Karter punched it. The Jet Black frieghter lurched forward into hyperspace, the ship disappearing. Karter looked back at Kal. They had both gotten STUPIDLY lucky, him in particular, because he had dared to come to Alderaan to begin with. Nar Shaddaa had many places to disappear to. "Well done, Mr. Vonnar. Now, for one last bit of honesty. You've been a sport. You've earned it. The name is not Gait...My name...my real one...is Kultram Desperaux. I however, prefer the alias of Karter of Uriek. You may address me as simply 'Karter'," he said. "Now we have two shipments of sonic weapons, and a Jedi's lightsaber...the lightsaber will sell for a good amount. Hutts love one or two in their private collection so we won't lack for credits once we find a buyer." He pulled down his hood, revealing his pale face and sulpher eyes, the brown, short cut hair. His facial features were angular, with a strong jaw. "Now, about your duties and rights aboard my ship," he went on. "I expect cleanliness. You wash your own dishes and clothes. You NEVER enter my quarters without knocking and asking if you can come in. You as of now, are responsible for flying this ship as well as overseeing repairs. All upgrades will be cleared by me before you purchase anything. Now, I know your personal red line is not killing Jedi, but you are not to attempt to dissuade me from doing so. Not unless there is a sincere tactical reason. I, in turn, will not attempt to drag you into that matter. However, you are naive if you think being a smuggler won't end in violence on occasion. Be prepared to kill to defend yourself from everyone besides Jedi. And there are other adepts out there besides Jedi. Dangerous people who know the Force. They're all out there...just a heads up," he explained. "You are to follow my orders without question in most mundane cases. Do so, and you will be treated fairly. Disobey without an EXTREMELY good reason, you can find someone else to work for. I'm not a cruel taskmaster. I won't ask you to do something I myself do not have the stomach for. But know this--" he continued, turning to face Kal. "Any sins you commit of your own free will are yours to live with. Do not hold me responsible for what extremes you end up commiting if you decide it was necessary in the heat of the moment. We all have to decide how far we wanna go in our respective endeavors. And what we can live with as a result. If you decide without any prompting to violently gun down some poor bastard trying to slap the restraints on you...that's your problem," he finished. "Now, it'll be a while before we reach Nar Shaddaa. I'll show you a tour of the vessel. Put this thing on autopilot and follow me." *** The ship was a vast one, there was a lounge, a holoterminal, a kitchen area, captains quarters, which were sealed, but close to the bridge, and spare crew quarters with three bunks. The ship interior though was unsettling in a few ways. The ship interior had a frequent dark color scheme on the interior. And then there were the pentagrams They showed up in odd, out of the way places, especially when they wouldn't make sense. They varied in size, but were always colored red and had an eye in the middle. "I know, I know, its sorta creepy. But this was how I found the inside when I...acquired it," he added with a dark chuckle. He led him to the spare crew quarters. "This is your room," Karter said with a sweeping gesture. "That may change if I acquire another crew member, so you may not always have it to yourself. That being said, you are free to renovate it in the meantime to your liking. The supplies are stocked, fix yourself some food and then get back to piloting. Now, any questions?"
  6. "Not Jedi, DARK Jedi," Karter said, starting the speeder. "And yeah, I get it. You don't wanna kill Jedi. Perfectly understandable. Its not really your problem. Its my thing. See, I hate the bastards. They turned people I swore to stand by into criminals," he explained powering up the speeder, pulling back out of the parking space and heading down the long path to the garage exit. "Me and the people I worked with...we got an order we didn't want to follow...we were ordered to reintegrate with the Republic and the Jedi Order. Except...we didn't want to. We wanted to do our own thing. See we felt the Order was wrong in its approach--" he was cut off as he burst through the garage security checkpoint bar. "And we were tired of taking orders from people who have been doing nothing but repeating their mistakes. Their reaction, to say the least, was telling. We were branded criminals and hunted down, even when, in truth, we had no intention of becoming their enemies," he continued piloting haphazardly out of the palace estates. "Now, as far as I know, I'm the only one left. Oh! And they stole the two people I care for most away from me, so forgive me if I do not share your respect for them. Take it from a guy who knows...the Jedi Order ain't the heroes you think. Now, I get you ain't no killer. But good news for you, thats not what I hired you for." Karter piloted through the streets of an alderaanian pavilion, going just below the speed limit on a designated path. "I hired you as an assistant for mundane endeavors. I won't ask you to go against your concience, but on the flip side, when it come to me going all murdery on Jedi, you stay outta my way. Now if you're smart, and you follow orders without question on everything else, you're gonna make a ton of money. Plus, you got a Darksider backing you...that is an advantage most other starting smugglers do NOT have. I have no interest in money or power. I only use the money to acquire resources I need to fund my vendetta. Most of it is going to you anyway. And when you're established enough and I have made you tough enough so you don't have to take shavit from no one, I'll get you your own ship, and we can part ways without acrimony. But ONLY if you follow orders. Now, can you pilot? Cause I suck at it, he said, finally reaching the space port after a few minutes. He spotted his ship on an outside landing pad. It was an XS Stock Light Freighter, with the name The Binding Spell etched in cursive basic on the side. He hopped out of the speeder grabbing a crate and heading to the spaceport landing pad. The terminal was a large tower of brown stone. Karter kept a steady pace as he walked, not trying to draw attention. Their sabotage of palace comms had bought them minutes. They needed to leave now. He'd been smart enough to pay the fee to go to and from. And he had paid off customs beforehand. "Vonnar! Get on board!" He yelled.
  7. Karter followed Kal, as the alarm blared near constantly throughout the palace. He watched Kal look away from the stained glass window as he headed out, following his new employee through vast passages leading to other rooms until they came out into a large garage, mostly bereft of anything, save a pair of what looked like Palace Soldiers. One of them opened fire on Vonnar, and he dropped the box of weapons, opening fire right back. Karter shot the other one with a stun bolt, no need for blood. He tried not to be a savage unless it was necessary. Karter began looking for a speeder, spotting a luxury ground speeder in a far corner. He also made note of other crates of sonic weapons. Vonnar Family was gearing up for something huge, and soon. He picked up one case that been recently delivered and tossed it into the back, ordering Kal to toss his crate in when he sensed him. He entered from an automatic doorway, brandishing a yellow bladed lightsaber with the cadence of a Niman Practitioner. He knew this because Ryleya had been instructing him in the basics of the style before he had killed her, and he wasn't at all confident enough to try using that style in open battle yet, any more than he was with Soresu. The Knight looked to be a human with graying hair, middle aged, not some fresh faced over confident Padawan. His eyes were a piercing Gray and his skin was a mild beige. He weighed his options, staring at the knight, deciding whether to engage or run. If he engaged, it might slow them both down, if he did not, the Jedi might realize what Karter was and alert the authorities outside. Then they would have some REAL trouble attempting to escape. Karter decided he had to end this fast. He wasn't certain his own skills as a dueling were up to snuff. "Kal Vonnar," the Jedi said, stepping forward in purple robes. "You are to surrender at once. You are throwing away your whole life to be a ruffian good only for putting in a cell. As for you...you...wait..." The Jedi said to Karter, blade going to a guard position. "I sense the Dark Side in you..." The Jedi turned back to Kal with genuine concern. "Kal you MUST come with me. Your companion is dangerous. You will be in constant danger. Can you not see he is using you?" "Jedi...shut up," Karter said in annoyance, pulling the Force around him, pulled it around him so completely that he simply vanished from sight. The Jedi went to instant alert. He began sensing for life but could only get a general idea of where Karter was in front of him before the bolts from Karter's stolen sonic pistol began being sent his way. The Jedi dashed forward with the Force swiping with his blade, and Karter only barely managed to get out of the way of the swipe that would have taken his head off and went backward, his mastery of cloaking silencing his footfalls as well as rendering his form utterly invisible. The Jedi force dashed towards his general direction and this time Karter could not completely avoid it, the tip barely grazing his arm, making him lose concentration of his cloak as he toppled to the ground, but before the Jedi could capatilize on Karter's mistake, advancing to get his foe's neck at blade point and force a surrender, Karter rolled on the ground, firing with both a regular blaster and his new sonic pistol, the Jedi was forced to back away and Karter kept firing. The Jedi had two choices. He could either block the rapidly fired pistol bolts going his way and risk getting hit by the sonic bolts also or he could back off and wait for and opening. The Jedi tried to Force pull the weapons out of his hand but Karter kept his guns in a death grip, firing his way. The Jedi then used an ability Karter had never seen before. He held out his hand, generating a shimmering wall of energy in front of his person that Karter's weapons could not penetrate. Even the sonic weapons were no good. Uh oh. Karter had no answer for that one when it came to weaponry. He had one trick left up his sleeve though...he had learned this one on Arkania, blocking the connection of a Dark Jedi by accident when he had been nearly overwhelmed in combat. He had tested it on several others since then to assess it's capability. It would cause a mighty strain but it was his best remaining play. Karter continued to fire letting him advance within striking range and then he reached out, dropping his regular blaster and throwing his mind, along with all his anger and hatred to the task. He threw out his mind to the Jedi' s, seeking out his connection in the Force and clamping down on it. The Jedi swooned, resisting. Karter felt terrible headaches and his mind was in agony but he used that pain to focus his rage at the Jedi, at all Jedi. He reached further into the Jedi, cutting his juice and keeping it cut. The Jedi's shield failed and the knight swooned, disoriented. He was still trying to throw Karter out of his mind, however, and Karter knew he couldn't keep this up much longer. The Knight advanced with his still active lightsaber, struggling to get the Dark Sider out of his mind and Karter fired his sonic weapon at close range. The bolt curved around the blade, the Jedi too slow and disoriented to evade in time, and was hit square in the head by a bolt on lethal setting. His face deformed and compacted from the shot, and he fell backward, dead, his lightsaber deactivating as it tumbled from his hand, the activation stud hitting the ground and shutting the blade off. Karter got up, drained and completely exhausted from the strain. He stood up, himself woozy, and reached over, picking up the dead knight's lightsaber, spitting on the corpse. "That's two, you bastards," he snapped, kicking the body. About a minute and a half had passed between the engagement and it's end. He was lucky...he knew it. But it was a win all the same, even if it had been a win by the skin of his teeth. He wearily got into the speeder, beckoning Vonnar to follow. "Ok...spoiler alert...totally a Dark Jedi," He admitted to his new employee.
  8. "If you were not allowed much of a say in who you could be with, then it wasn't a good life. My father was the same way. 'Stick to the straight and narrow, because society needs someone to defend it, to maintain its rules'," Karter said sneeringly. "Problem was, I cared little for the rules...you are right to want to escape this gilded cage, Mr. Vonnar. You'd be comfortable sure, but what is comfort worth if there is no happiness?" Karter agreed with Kal's assessment of portability. He wasn't sure how much the rifles by themselves would be worth, however. Firearms were firearms, but he was sure there had to be something else here that people would pay for. Karter began checking the other crates, looking for something that might be just as much worth if not more. He spotted another crate, smaller than most. He undid the latch on the lid, and smiled. He pulled out a sonic pistol. With the presence of enemy force users potentially getting to their doorstep in the near future, The Vonnar Family would have been mad to not have at least a couple lying around. "We need to take these," Karter said, closing the lid. Sonic weapons are worth too credit to the right criminals. I'd leave the rifles. We'll get better money for these. Grab the box and carry it. And lead us to the garage. I'll cover you," he assured. Frankly, he was amazed sonic weapons weren't more common in civilian hands. They lacked the same power and range, but they could kriff an adept up if one knew how to shoot.
  9. Karter hopped down behind Kal into the passage. He followed silently, still evaluating the boy. He thought quickly, there was that. He hefted the blaster rifle slung over his shoulder, admiring the craftsmanship, the flames in the color design. It looked ruggedized, built to ensure performance in harsh conditions. "Well, I won't fault your family's choice in rifles...not half bad actually..." remarked, examining it. Looks like a blastech design..." Karter knew Vonnar's family had to be connected, based off of this weapon alone...most families with Vonnar's kind of wealth, they'll just get an off the shelf sporting blaster and mod it for power and range. But those guns were different from this one. This one was designed to endure protracted engagements such as sieges. Given the political situation in Alderaan, it was hardly a surprise a family this rich would opt for aftermarket military armaments. The passage widened after a little while. Karter could here the alarm blaring above them as they came on an automatic door. Karter got close to the door. It seemed locked. "Time for a magic trick," Karter grunted, getting close to the computer console and pretending to press a bunch of random numbers on the keypad, when in reality he was directing the Force through electronics. He had discovered this power by accident when he had been trying to work the toaster on the ship in a state of rage. That damn thing NEVER worked. It had taken him a couple of hours of practice on an alarm chrono before getting it right. The door slid open and Karter was greeted by more opulence, everywhere he could see. He whistled, stepping out ahead of Vonnar. "This...is decadence. You guys live well...no wonder you got tired of it..." He remarked, striding forward. "So what's a good thing that we can rob, Mr. Vonnar? Something portable, easily carried. Not like this place will miss any of it..." Karter spotted an open doorway. And strode up it. He aimed his new rifle, admiring the heft of the blaster as he went forward, and raised his eyebrow as he spotted what looked like a storage room for recently arrived shipments off world. "Mr. Vonnar, context for this room?" He asked. "Anything valuable he asked, pointing to the crates.
  10. Karter whistled as Kal shot all of them. He didn't really do much, just watched as the kid quick drawed them and gunned them down. He even had a semi-decent one liner before shooting them. Which was actually harder than it looked. It has to be situational...you can't force a good one liner. Had to come from the heart. "So you can pull a trigger fast. Well done. Seems Daddy actually got you a decent instructor. But there are gunboys--" Karter said, drawing his blasters with a spin around his fingers, both set on stun, and wheeled around him opening fire as other guards filed in from a seperate entrance, hitting three at once with dual wielding, the stun bolts not quite as accurate as they would have been with one pistol but still heading in the general direction and hitting them in the leg and the chest. They dropped, their own stun bolts going wide and hitting the walls and ceiling as they fell. More guards came in through the entrance they themselves had come through. Karter, having sensed them as he had sensed the others, albeit only a few seconds before they would have struck, wheeled around, dodging a few bolts aimed at him, and dropping them with one pistol, a few quick triggerpulls hitting one than another, in the face, then hitting the remaining two in the chest before they could open fire. "...and Gunmen," he finished, spinning his blasters and sliding them into his holsters. "As to your question...oh we are totally gonna see action! We're criminals! People are gonna TOTES want us dead! Me in particular but they'll probably want a piece of you also! That's why you gotta be the best! So they won't get a piece. And if you can't be the best, at least be the quietest! The stealthiest!" he exclaimed. "Now, Mr. Vonnar, I am aware this is your home, but seeing as how we JUST fired on guys you probably saw around this place for like, years, I'm thinking we should just get the hell out of here. They are NOT gonna be happy with you. Oh, uh, we should rob something from this place. Something valuable. Something we can sell," Karter said, folding his arms as an alarm sounded and he heard shouting from down the corridor. "And THAT is more guys than I wanna handle," Karter muttered. "Time for a speedy retreat...got a route out of here?"
  11. Karter stared at the absent minded boy, watching as he ran smack dab into a pillar. Didn't he live here? Shouldn't he know where all the pillars are by this point? It was amazing, like watching a creature you knew was going extinct because it was stupid. Or a Gungan. Which would probably be the same thing down the road, if God was just and merciful. He had been to a lot of places, seen a lot of things, but he had never met anyone, anywhere, who liked a Gungan. It just...just...didn't happen. He would have been stunned, stunned and flabbergasted to meet one who did. How do you get distracted when you just got captured? When you were now trying to actively escape? Karter calmed himself. Don't strangle the help, he told himself. You need the help. You need the naive, desperate, easily distracted help. The help is your friend. Karter followed him, noting the sickeningly opulent windows and statues and drapes. The iconoclast in him wanted to burn this den of heathens to the ground. But they were just rich civvies in the end. He was ultimately disinterested in harming such people, never mind the fact it would alienate his new employee. All moved quietly though, he would admit that much. The quietness of prey evading predators. He could even teach Karter a thing or two about sneaking. After twisting through vast corridors they came upon what looked like a small control room, filled with four guards observing what looked like astrogation charts. Karter signalled Vonnar to stop. He would take this next part. Karter strained a bit, moving quietly into the room, using Force Camouflage, removing himself from their minds. It was slightly difficult, but not as much as it had been when he had escaped from Brentaal nearly exhausted. He got closer to the guards, past the consoles, taking careful aim. He fired stun bolts in rapid succession, the large blue bolts traveling slower than regular but at this range it made almost no difference. The guards dropped rapidly. Karter looked at the holographic display of the star map, beckoning Vonnar to come in. "Show me how to get their maps downloaded. How do I sabotage this place?" He asked. "We are on the chrono here Vonnar." "Guys Master Vonnar has escaped!" blared the comlink of one of the knocked out guards. "Send out a palace wide alert! Guys?!" Karter went over and grabbed it. "Roger!" he called back, hoping the static of a normal comlink might disguise his voice enough so the guy on the other end wouldn't ask questions about who replied. No such luck. "Dathan, that you? You sound funny." "Interference. Listen, the alarm systems are glitching. I can't trigger them. How are things on your end?" "Who the hell are you?" Asked the voice, suddenly suspicious. Karter angrily shot the comlink and, disregarding the previous instructions he'd given to Kal, opened fire on the most important console. "Stupid conversation anyhow. Ok, new plan! Uhhhh..." Karter trailed, thinking out loud. "We...might have a bunch of angry people heading our way soon. Like, super soon. Hope you can aim! Or run!"
  12. Oh dear God he was poking him now. Why was he poking him? This kid had a metric kriff ton of stuff to learn. The hand shot towards his blaster, which was set on stun as he snatched it out of the holster, opening fire on the guards and stunning them. Even now, he couldn't afford to draw the lightsaber. Not yet. He'd alert the whole palace, who'd no doubt summon everyone they could to prevent them from leaving. If they still thought he was just a ruffian they wouldn't resort to anything greater than internal security. One stun bolt managed to hit the guard at the monitoring booth before he could hit the alarm. Karter rose grumpily. Every guard was out cold. He went past Kal, shooting the alarm panel. "Okay, one problem solved," Karter said grumpily, pulling blaster clips off them. "Mr. Vonnar, you know this place better than I do. First rule of exfiltration is making sure the enemy can't send for help. We've bought ourselves maybe five minutes of head start but we can't make a break for the exit just yet. That will be what they expect us to do. We have to disable external communication and jam internal ones if we can. Is there a way to do that in this palace?" He asked, hood still drawn over his face, concealing it. "Reducing their coordination efforts is essential. They found you far too easily last time. You were predictable to them, in other words. And another thing..." He continued, taking a blaster rifle...looked largely ceremonial given everything here. "Do NOT give me away like that again. I would have gone to retrieve you. You can't go around fingering your business associates at the first sign of trouble. No one will want to do business with you if they think you are a rat," he explained calmly, beckoning. "I want to know everything about this place. Where are the patrols?"
  13. Karter had gotten a bad feeling, soon as the guards had shown themselves. He facepalmed himself when Kal was dragged out a second later, calling for his help. This one was going to have to learn a TON about subtlety. Karter wanted to pull his hair out. He thought about just drawing his lightsaber and killing all the guards, taking his new lackey by force. But he'd alert the entire area on a planet controlled by the Republic and the Empire. A place he had fled to after Brentaal. No other choice. He decided to play it quiet. No need to alert anyone...yet. "Sure, why not? Not like I got anything better to do," he grumbled. "Lead the way," he muttered, insincerity dripping from every word. *** The guards had dragged them to the palace's detention area. Karter observed the heavy security in the area, the walls stark and darkened compared to the opulence of the rest of the palace. In retrospect, Karter had thought, it was hardly surprising the kid wanted out. Imagine, a life of whatever you could possibly want at your fingertips...and all you had to do was whatever others said, whatever was expected of you... ...no matter how inane and backward it was. All the time. Any sane person would have slipped out first chance they had, and the kid had apparently found his, being joined with a woman he didn't desire the final straw. Karter himself would have rejected the sickening level of wealth he had seen in this place so far...what was the point? Not like you could take it with you. The two were led to detention cells finally. Karter knew he didn't have long. They found his lightsaber, they would summon authorities, maybe even Jedi. And then he'd be kriffed. Extra kriffed. They were close together, and Karter knew he needed to create a diversion in order to act. The boy had gotten him into this mess, least he could do is start taking orders. "Distract them, I'll do the rest," he said when they bumped close, in a lower than low whisper. "Guard!" One of their captors spoke. "We've found young master Vonnor. He was speaking with this street ruffian. Run a name..."Gait". I doubt it's his real one..." "Wow, you figure that out by yourself? And they still have you on fetch duty, eh, doggie?" He asked snidely. One of the guards punched him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, letting it stoke his fury. "Anything else, smartmouth?" the guard snarled. "Yeah...supersize my drink order. Extra dipping sauce on the side," he grumbled. "Oh! And powdered cheese on my nerfburger!" "No," the guard snapped. "And what kind of sick bastard puts powdered cheese on a nerfburger? Wouldn't that, like, make it all nasty and gritty?" Karter raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Everyone thinks that's a weird combo?" He asked. His only answer was a crack across the jaw. He went with it. Lull them into a false sense of security. "Hey get the weapon scanners!" the guard that had hit him ordered. Kal had better react, Karter thought. If he couldn't do anything here, couldn't think on his feet, he was all but useless.
  14. Karter didn't need the Force to know fear when he saw it. Trained shooter, eh? Karter could take that further. And he could sneak... Karter needed a right hand. Some one sheltered and naive who wouldn't question his orders too much...at least, not unreasonably. Karter knew he couldn't solely rely on his own judgement...someone had to be there to make him think twice over at least a few things. Regardless, for now the boy would do. "Alright, you have my curiosity. For now, at least," he emphasized, face still mostly concealed under his hood. "It just so happens you are in luck. I'm a man in need of a capable employee. One who takes orders and doesn't complain without cause. You pull your weight, and you will be treated fairly. You don't, and you will find yourself out of a job. Now, as to the details of what you will be working aboard. I have basically a mint condition XS Stock Light Frieghter...called The Binding Spell. Fully armed and operational. I have an idea for our first job. As you are new to this, I will be generous...whatever money is made, I will take a thirty five percent cut of all profits. You will take the remaining sixty five, barring issues of ship maintenance and refueling. But understand this...smuggling is a criminal enterprise. Where you go with me, we will be commiting crimes. They find us, they arrest us, we could face death or life imprisonment. I won't sugarcoat it for you," he said, leaning close to Kal, saying all this quietly. "You best be sure that's what you want. If you don't, best run back to your palace and start taking your parents orders. I'll understand...the life I lead is NOT for everyone. It's all a matter of what you are willing to do...and what you can live with in the process..." The Darksider stood up. "I'll give you three minutes to decide if this is truly what you want to do with your life. Think very carefully. Own your decision. I'll wait out front. If you aren't out there in three minutes, I leave and don't look back. Keep the credits..." Karter said, heading out the front. The streets out side were rainswept, leading to a greater pavilion full of markets. The Dark Jedi didn't sense the presence of any other force users. So he waited, kicking a rock idly.
  15. Karter waited in the recesses of the warehouse, waiting for the Mandalorian to enter. He waited...and waited...fear gripping him. He couldn't take the man in a straight fight, and there was no guarantee even with his stealth abilities that he could last long. He was simply too injured. Nearing his point of total exhaustion. "I don't think he's coming," the Demon spoke next to him suddenly, startling him as he hid near some crates. "If he was, he'd have shown by now. If you're going to run, now is the time, before they lock the entire area down. And the spaceports." Karter nodded at the Demon in agreement and got up from his hiding place. He sprinted down the staircase, walking calmly out of the hole he had made and spotted the speeder the cops has shown up in. He slowly walked to it and got inside. He tried to remember how to start one...he had never been very good at driving. Ever. He found the activation control and the speeder rumbled on. He throttled the controls forward... ...and ran smack dab into another police speeder just as it pulled into the area. "Oh C'mon..." Karter snarled in exasperation. "Seriously?!" He throttled forward pushing it out of the way as he rocketed down the street the other speeder suddenly following him, siren blaring. The Demon, sitting in the other seat, feet on the dashboard whistled annoyingly. "Look at it this way," she said enthusiastically. "At least the Mando isn't chasing you..." "Not helping," he snapped. "I'm totally helping," the Demon asserted. "Face it Karter, without someone to talk to you'd have cracked like a cheap window." "And seeing you is the model of sanity," he muttered, swerving to the right. He had to shake the cops...somehow... Two more speeders joined the chase behind him and Karter Karter sped up, unsteadily keeping control of the vehicle, his complete ineptitude as a pilot in full display. As he barely avoided the sidewalk. "You suck at this," the Demon noted dryly. Karter ignored her, tried to focus on piloting, sped up. Had to keep speeding. He swerved past another speeder and barely kept control, forced to make micro corrections that nearly sent him into a building. He was getting desperate. One police speeder hemmed him in, slammed into him on the left. Karter lost control of the vehicle, spinning out of control and grinding into a convenience store in the sidewalk. He smashed through and the vehicle came to a stop. He was still able to move however, and crawled out through the side, ribs hurting as he struggled out with a scream, breaking into a run through the store, past the shocked clerk as he slammed into the durasteel double doors marked employees only. The cops, armed with blaster rifles, stormed the place, following. Karter knew he had only seconds left, and he was no longer strong enough to summon the cloak even partial strength. So he resorted to a more basic method, one that had saved his life more than once when faced with bad odds. He concentrated, having hidden by the door when the cops rushed through, and then reached into their minds, straining with all his mental might, Force pool close to exhausted. Just as the cops swerved his way he vanished from their minds, knees buckling as he struggled to keep himself hidden from them. The armed officers looked around in the back area, stocked with cleaning supplies, and extra goods that needed to remain chilled. They moved slowly, and Karter broke into a sweat, migraine starting. One got close to him, but he dared not move, fearing he'd break concentration. Finally, after they searched for a few minutes, one of them, a Togorian man with a lot of muscles, called out, "He's not here!" "There's a back exit. He must have gone out it!" the female human cop announced. The cops filed through, but not before the clerk, a Twilek man with orange skin, a heavyset frame and green work clothes rushed through, and Karter dropped to the ground, adding the clerk's mind to the list so to speak, struggling not to hiss in pain. "Hey what about my store!?" He shouted at them. "City officials will reimburse you. Sorry for the inconvenience," the Togorian snapped as he and the others left out the back. The Twilek threw up his hands. "Gorram cops...I HATE Brentaal police..." He muttered. "Guess I'm closed for the day..." The clerk took off his work apron and threw it on the ground in rage and headed to the front. Karter collapsed on the floor, unable to move for five straight minutes. He'd be easy prey if that Mando caught him now. He pulled himself off the ground eventually and headed to the back, looking for supplies, and hid behind a large shelf, watching as the clerk walked through, having changed into civilian clothes, clearly pissed. He exited out the back and Karter heard a vehicle him to life, slowly growing more distant as the clerk sped off. Ah, the famous brusqueness of Brentaal cops, he thought to himself. Smash through your property and tell you to take it up with city hall. It hadn't used to be so bad. But Brentaal had been getting an influx of criminals into the planet the past few years, people who knew Nar Shaddaa was too obvious a choice. Brentaal was quiet. One could do business here if they were equally so. The hutt that had paid Karter had known that. Karter crawled out from his hiding spot. He began searching for stuff he could use, took painkillers and bandages off the shelf, found some ice and used it in his ribs, popping a few pills into his mouth. Flashes of the man he drained hit him hard, and he leaned against a wall in shame and self loathing. He checked the wound that was barely sealed in his shoulder. It was holding. But no more action for now. He was badly hurt. He hated himself for what he had done to survive. That man hadn't deserved the best years of his life taken away. But he couldn't afford to be stopped here, or Uriek would go unavenged. One more pointless triumph for the Jedi Order. He hardened himself. People would get hurt in the process...that was the reality of being a Dark Jedi. But it was all for a purpose...all for justice...the only thing left he still truly believed in. The only thing left in his dungheap of a life worth fighting for. Again the Dark Side whispered in his mind about the Sith. Again he resisted the suggestion. What would he do with power and authority? He had never cared for either, had never wanted either. He'd be trading one set of shackles for another. They'd make him do what THEY wanted, and eventually he would do nothing else, no matter what he gained in the process. Karter maintained his guilt. It was the only way at this point to convince himself he wasn't a complete monster. Guilt separated him from animals, like Ryleya. He shuddered, thinking of her. He was glad she was dead. She was too diseased to continue. And yet, he had this sneaky respect for her memory, one he was unsure he could explain away. He felt the swelling go down, He was violently upset once more. Stupid moves had nearly gotten his head blown off. He could never get that careless again. Not ever. He had to become a master of stealth. A true master of it, Force or otherwise. No more stupid, obvious mistakes, like eating in the open. He had left the money behind in the motel, but it was too dangerous to go back. He had enough fuel left to get to another planet, fly there, get more creds, but not much else. He dragged himself up again, trying to figure out how to get to his ship, even as he went to the restroom and washed the blood off him, taking his stolen police armor off. He looked in the mirror. His eyes were sulphur, skin a sick, pale color. If Coventry could see him now... He didn't like his reflection. He loathed his reflection suddenly, took out his lightsaber, and smashed it with the butt of his hilt. Then he finished cleaning himself. His shirt was useless, blood soaked. He needed a new one. He walked out of the restroom, looking around. He spotted a locker and sliced it open, spotting a green shirt. He smelled it. Freshly laundered. He threw it on. Slightly big, but he didn't care. He threw in a jacket in the locker also, thankfully with a good on it. He spotted a duffle bag. He took it, started shoving supplies in, and went back into the restroom and put his armor in the bag also. He then waited until nightfall, crouched, hiding behind shelves until he saw the sun go down through the Windows. He took that time to meditate, keeping himself focused with hatred. Odrania' s words came back to him in the process: It's all a matter of what you are willing to do. And what you can live with in the process. Karter had learned today he could live with taking fifty years off some poor civvie in an emergency. He felt horrible about it, and knew he was going to hell for that one alone, but he could live with it. "People like me don't get happy endings," he said out loud, breaking his meditation. He rose. Everything was sore, but he had the energy to make it to his ship. He decided he was already taking the stores food and supplies, might as well take the credits out of its safe. He headed out the front, headed to what looked like an electronic safe, flicked on his saber and burned through the lock. He checked the inside, pulling out two thousand credits...decent. His eyes widened as he spotted something else inside. Something he had seen only in holozines. He pulled out a revolver, with a black finish, and transparisteel grips with bronzium engravings on the handle. "It can't be..." He whispered in surprise. "An Endo Morris Original?" He flipped open the swing out cylinder. Six shots, forty caliber. Decent stopping power. He took the box of bullets and threw it in his new bag along with his gun and the credits. He then headed out the front, where his speeder was still crashed. He checked the streets. No one present. He slowly headed down the sidewalk, walking calmly in the dead of night. He walked for hours through the streets, passing few people by. He stayed calm, kept walking somewhat slower than he wanted to, not wanting to aggravate his injuries. It was another hour before he reached his ship, which he had landed outside the city limits of Cormund, on an out of the way landing pad, having bribed the local dock head there to keep silent with about a thousand credits. He'd been hoping to make up the difference by doing the hutts job, but that Mando spoiled that. The dockhead had kept silent about his ship, not registered it in the database. As he walked to the pad, his paranoia flared, and he hurried to the Dockhead's office, at the heart of the docking station banging on the door. The Dockhead, a Twilek woman with green skin, middle aged with a sagging face, clad in green civilian robes. "I've been waiting for you..." "Was held up," Karter answered. "My ship still here? Unannounced?" "I kept my end of the bargain. No one knows your ship is here, as promised." "Good," Karter snapped, holding up his lightsaber. "Run a scan on it for me, check for trackers or explosives. Not that I think you didn't keep your word, but I find anything on the hull or the inside that wasn't there when I left, Imma turn your ass into a quadriplegic." The woman sighed, showing him to the office terminal past stacks of datapad and files. She ran a scan on his ship from the computer commands. The scan showed clean on all areas. Karter sighed. "Very good." He reached into his bag, pulled out five hundred credits. "So we can continue doing business in the future if I come here." The woman took the credits without protest. "I never rat out the people who pay me, and well, at that. You may call upon my services again if you find yourself in Brentaal ever again." Karter nodded and headed to his hanger, his paranoia making him stop for ten minutes to check everything on the outside. Then he went inside and spent another ten, checking the inside. Nothing. Totally clean. Nothing had been disturbed. Hesitantly he started up his ship, and clumsily lifted off, piloting the ship into the night sky. He broke orbit, punching in the coordinates for his next destination, and only then did he dare to exhale in relief.