Kal Vonnar

A Fair Game of Pazaak

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Posted (edited)

Docking Bay, Alderaan

Selona 15th, 3632 BBY

 

Kal sat alone at one of the empty silver round tables, shuffling his fresh batch of cards. His journey hadn't taken him far. Oh, how he longed to have a ship of his own. Maybe there was a chance he could buy one sometime sooner, or find a way to do so. He was eager to start his career as a smuggler... maybe he should buy this time to build up a crew first, soar across the stars to worlds unknown or know. Either way, he couldn't help but long to get off Alderaan. But where could he begin?

 

His thoughts raced, but his attentive behavior still stood. His ears pricked up at a family. Maybe he could swindle... no. They had a little girl. She probably was asking for food and shelter, too. She was in good hands. Now, back to what he was doing. Over and over he added up the deck. It was a fair hand. He hoped to find a gamer who was interested in Pazaak. Just a small amount to get started. The cards flew from his hand as he counted them, over and over again. He thought he crunched the numbers just right.

 

Anything to get him a ship... and a crew... but maybe he needed to get a ship together first. Yes, the cards were right. And so was he. Oh, who would he swindle first? Who would give them his ship? Or maybe it was better he buy the ship first. Anything for a fair and square game, no? He laughed. Well, he would see where his Pazaak cards took him.

Edited by Kal Vonnar

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Karter walked in, hood to a new black jacket up over his head. He was in a rotten mood, like he usually was most days, but he was in an especially rotten mood today.

 

He was a bad pilot. He'd nearly botched the landing in getting to Alderaan. Thankfully his ship wasn't on the search lists of the authorities in these parts yet. He had barely escaped that Mandalorian and he knew he was lucky. Very lucky. But evading authorities and learning how to pilot was very taxing. He wasn't even sure he should have gone to Alderaan but he needed to regroup, get supplies, put his ear to the ground for opportunities and more importantly, get a drink. His wounds from that sniper shot were barely healed. And he was still filled with self hatred at what he had done to that civvie in order to survive. No question now: He deserved to burn in hell.

 

But not before he found a way to avenge himself in the order. On his terms. There had to be some blow he could strike, one that would make them remember their sin against the Confederacy...

 

The Cantina stank. Everything stank because he was violently angry. It was taking all his restraint to avoid drawing his blade and cutting off an arm or two to vent. He didn't have a problem causing that kind of pain these days. He DID have a problem robbing someone of decades of their life to keep himself going. Maybe he should have killed him outright. But Karter as a Dark Jedi imposed a certain code of conduct on himself: No cops or civvies. Everyone else was fair game. 

 

Most tables were full, save for one over eager looking kid with what looked like a deck of cards in the back row.

 

Karter snarled in annoyance, flagged down a droid waiter. "Juma," he grunted, heading to the back to wait for his drink. He hesitantly took the table, taking note of the boys features, making note of little details. He seemed happy, but out of his element. His hands weren't the hands of a worker. Restless. Looking for a hustle, but not knowing the first thing about real hustling.

 

"Just here for a drink. Not the cards. Terrible at cards," he grunted, his Correllian drawl coarse and rough with pain. "One drink and I'll be outta your hair soon. Promise."

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Posted (edited)

Kal looked up. Even from the soft blue light above his head, he could already tell this man was older and experienced than he. But did experience mean he was likely to get punched for saying the wrong thing? He hoped he wouldn't disappoint anyone... no. He could do this. This was his first real adventure as a smuggler. And smugglers needed to be brave and true. And smuggle a few things now and again. He wasn't sure he was prepared for this job. But here he was.

 

"If you're not here to play cards, then what are you doing here?" Kal asked, feeling the top deck's smooth surface. At least he could give this man a run for his money, but then... wait a second. "I'm sorry. Can I help you?"

 

Well, at least he made contact with someone, maybe one of his new crew members... was that a good thing?

Edited by Kal Vonnar

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Karter stared. Was this kriff hard of hearing? He would have headbutted him. That would have shut him up. But he reminded himself that it would be unwise to draw attention to himself. Besides, wasn't the kids fault he didn't know Karter was a darksider. So he patiently repeated himself.

 

"Getting a drink. This was the last table that was empty. And here it is," Karter said, as the waitress brought his glass of juma. He took a sip. "You don't look like you belong here. Even a blind man can tell you're looking to hustle. You'd be better off searching for the underground betting rings but they'd cut your throat in a heart beat. Looking to get off this snooze fest of a world or something?" The kid was so painfully obvious it hurt and annoyed him.

 

"I wouldn't blame you. Been on this hole barely an hour and I want to leave," he admitted as he drank, hood still concealing his face.

 

Just then an alderaanian policeman entered the bar, obviously off duty, and Karter stiffened slightly, but kept calm and continued to take sips. He felt his lightsaber, concealed by a sleeve on his jacket. He could get pretty quick on the draw these days but he was one darksider fighting to gain revenge on what he viewed as a corrupt apparatus, backed by millions. His whole survival depended on not being noticed...until it was too late. And drawing your saber...even though it would have been hilarious to watch their reactions it wouldn't be hilarious when every cop in the area came down on him. So he drank some more.

 

Kriff it, he was bored. "I'm terrible at cards," he repeated. "But I think you are not so hot yourself. And I'm just drunk enough not to care," he lied, deciding to kriff with the boys head. "Deal me in. How does a hundred credits sound as a wager?"

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Kal raised an eyebrow. Was this man serious? Already he insulted him in more than one way, even if he didn't mean to. But maybe he could go easy on the man, if he wanted to. That was if he was lucky not to lose all his money... well, good thing he had two thousand credits to back him up. That's what he got for living in the palace.

 

"That sounds fair," he said, his voice even and dry. He added, as he dealt the cards, "So, you new to Alderaan?"

 

But he continued speaking just to buy himself time. Maybe he could work up this man for a change. See if his suspicions were correct. There was something very off about the man. "Just so you know, I am new to smuggling. I managed to smuggle my way out of the palace. Messy, messy business..." Okay, he needed to tell the truth. Well, he did tell partially the truth, didn't he? Oh well. He would play out his hand as best as he could. "Okay, not so messy. But it was messy just sneaking out of there unnoticed. The damsel wanted my hand in marriage, but I snuck off before the marriage could take off. Not bad for my first attempt, eh?" He grinned a toothy grin. Good. He was making a good impression on the man, wasn't he? Oh, he hoped at least this wouldn't get him killed on one shot. He was just getting started. What a way to end his miserable life then, wasn't it?

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Posted (edited)

Karter tried hard not to snicker. Dear God, this kid was so obvious if he contracted dysentery he'd likely put an "open all night" sign in neon over his gut. This kid would die for certain if he ran into the wrong guys in an alley. He'd likely get kidnapped, ransomed over the holonet and killed anyway once his family paid. Palace life must have sucked if he was willing to risk that.

 

"I wouldn't go blurting out the fact you wanna be a smuggler. Great way to get yourself thrown in the slammer. Early," he admonished as he was dealt cards. "This chick you're running from...she ugly or something? I can understand if that was the case, but if you're telling the truth and you lived in a palace, you're...trading down to say the least."

 

Karter leaned forward a bit, hood concealing his features."Smuggling is dangerous business boy. Piss off the wrong crimelord and you better be good a fighting, running, or both. Besides, what makes you think you could even cut it?" Karter asked, curious in spite of himself as he laid down his first card. A five.

 

He had listened to the boys explanation and unexpectedly found a chord struck. The boy it seemed, wanted to be his own boss, with no one telling him how to live his life. Karter could respect that, even if it came out of the mouth of a sucker born with an aurodium spoon in his mouth.

 

Perhaps this one could be useful...it depended on what his skill set was. If the boy was just in over his head, Karter would smile, nod, and be on his way. If the boy could do something useful, well, that would get his attention. Maybe. It all depended on the boy's hobby.

 

"Name's Gait," Karter lied. "Yours?"

Edited by Karter
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Kal raised an eyebrow. He guessed the man named Gait wasn't his real name, but then he didn't want to get into trouble. He sighed, deciding it was better to just say who he was now, instead of waiting around for something else to come his way.

 

"Kal," Kal said. He could wait on saying his last name when he and Gait were off-planet. Besides, Gait pretty much didn't say much about himself. Why then should he? "So, where are we heading to? Anywhere but this planet is better. The last thing I need is to be sent back to the palace." He took a sip of his drink. He set a three down just to be on the safe side. But even he could admit things were getting a little out of control on this world. What was next for him anyway? He didn't know. But he did know one thing. "The woman I met at the palace, she was sweet but her intentions weren't so great. I blame it on the juma juice."

 

It was all he had, but at least it was a good notion, wasn't it? Maybe he was playing the wrong hand. Did the lights here have to be all blue and dim?

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Posted (edited)

"The woman I met at the palace, she was sweet but her intentions weren't so great. I blame it on the juma juice."

 

"Story of my gorram life," Karter remarked bitterly, thinking of Cyra, elaborating no further however. But this guy had simply wanted out of an arranged relationship by the sounds of it. Cyra was simply flaky and faithless. He might have respected her decision if she had simply had the courage to tell him to his face. But she didn't even have that level of respect. He might have even thought twice about his position at the time she left but noooooooooo, she scurried off in the night like a coward--

 

He didn't realize his fist was clenched in rage under the table, not until he felt fingernails bite into his skin. He took a deep, slow breath, getting his rage under control. No need for a freak out here. 

 

He clenched his glass tighter, but spoke calmly. "Not so fast. If you wanna be a smuggler, tell me what it is you can do. Can you fly? Shoot? Are you willing to artificially impregnate a rancor on command? Can you sneak?" Karter asked, the serious tone in his voice seemingly in spite of the joke he'd just thrown in. "Can't let you onto my ship unless you're willing to commit some hardcore felonies. Not as hardcore as like, say, promoting communism...I shoot communists on sight these days, just so you're aware...but still rather bad," he formally. You gotta be able to think on your feet, because smuggling won't be all we do." 

 

The Dark Jedi waited for Kal s answer. He figured he must at least not be completely incompetent if he evaded palace security. And perhaps he could be molded into something more effective...with time.

 

That is provided his answer was something Karter wanted to hear.

Edited by Karter

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Posted (edited)

"Can I sneak?" Kal injected as a joke but also serious. Of course he could sneak. He was lucky to have gotten out of the palace. Oh wait. Now that he thought on it, there were some things he could do. "I was trained for military combat by use of a blaster up at the palace. I wanted to learn. My mother wasn't amp on agreeing to it, but father let me practice as often as I can. I can shoot and I can sneak. How else could I get out of the palace. My persuasion's a bit rusty, and yet not bad."

 

He took another sip of his drink. He wanted to leave Alderaan before the palace guards found him. Maybe he wasn't too good on his sneaking and persuasion, but they were enough to get him this far. If he didn't leave now, he would be caught and possibly brought back to the palace for a further punishment. He would have to think of something fast.

 

"Listen, the palace guards might be coming. If I don't get off this planet, they'll be on my toes much sooner than expected. No one here knows who I am so far, so I don't wish to get caught by the guards, should they find me here," he said, his breathing intensified more out of fear and angst than anything else. He would need to do something quick. Hopefully, this kind stranger would take him in as part of his crew.

Edited by Kal Vonnar

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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.

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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.

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Posted (edited)

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.

Edited by Karter

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Posted (edited)

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.

Edited by Kal Vonnar

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Posted (edited)

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?"

Edited by Karter
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"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!

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Posted (edited)

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!"

 

 

Spoiler

Force Camo x1. Obviously this is a shout out to the cell block scene in a new hope.

 

Edited by Karter

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Posted (edited)

"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."

Edited by Kal Vonnar

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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?"

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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.

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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.

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