"So, you all are as nice as the Nautoulan." Jayson says, "My condolences, in advance."

Larik sighs, closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose between the index finger and thumb of his right hand.

"Look, we've clearly gotten off on the wrong foot here. I'm not sure why you're offering condolences, but remember, if you want off this poor excuse for a planet you don't have a lot of options. Exactly one, if my guess is correct, so how about we all take a step back from the ledge and agree to get along regardless of whether we like each other or not."

"Fine" Jayson says.(OOC: A bit of ret-coning happened, with my character .)

"If you truly do not like our company," Naught says, crossing her arms and leaning against one of the boarding ramp supports, "this Gand is certain there are no shortages of opportunities for a purveyor of violence to hire out as a mercenary on this planet, which would furnish credits for repairs or passage. And if you are looking to kidnap, pardon, 'capture,' Force sensitives, well, the Empire is in orbit and is doubtlessly looking for fodder for their new-found schism."

As Naught and Jayson converse, Larik's eyes narrow and he opens himself up to the Force to figure out what's really going on with the new comer. Dark shadows seep into the edges of his vision and he realizes what's happening, but does nothing to stop it this time. His friends' safety is too important, letting the darkness in is a risk he has to take. He senses Jayson's anger and fear - it's a full sensory experience. His skin feels colder and sees shadows darting around the Mandalorian's body. A sour acrid smell reminiscent of stale sweat pours off of the armored being. He's able to discern truth from lies by the grating buzzy tone Jayson's voice takes on when telling a falsehood. Larik feels the power coursing through his body and briefly doesn't want it to stop. He wants it to rush through him more! It could mean no one could ever lie to him again. He would always know if someone meant his friends harm! It would mean..., but no. It has to stop. His mother taught him how seductive the dark side was and now he was experiencing it first hand. He'd have to be careful going forward but for now it meant he could move forward confidently.

"Jayson. Drop the lies now. You're on the run. You're not a bounty hunter. Give us the full story. Give us a reason to trust you. You have one more chance."

Whoops Jayson thinks I sould have been more careful. Maybe I shouldn't challenge one of them to single combat… "Would any of you guys happen to be loyal to the Empire? Or are any of you bounty hunters?" He asks, while whipping out his blast knuckles, and bracing himself in case they attack him.(Taking a guarded stance manuver.) Just about time to come clean. Jayson thinks.

"Jayson, put the weapon away," Larik says. "Drop the facade. What's really going on with you?"

"The answers to your questions are 'no,' and 'no,'" Naught says, tensing up in case the unpredictable newcomer attacks. "Now that you know that along with our names and faces, perhaps you'd care to put aside your weapons and share a little more yourself? If not, this Gand is still willing to let you walk away rather than start an unnecessary fight."

Ansewr my question. NOW!(Sorry, didn't see Kaigen's post.)

Larik reaches out to the force one more time and is comforted this time. He's able to use the positive energy surrounding himself, Jayson and Naught and imbue his words with feelings of comfort and safety toward Jayson.

"Jayson, we're not your enemy. We're not going to fight you. We've had enough fighting for today. We can help you and I still want to do so. I can tell you're scared and angry, but taking it out on us won't help your situation. I'm asking you again to put your weapon away, take a deep breath and talk to us."

Suprised at how well Larik read him, Jayson relaxes a bit. He puts his blast knuckle away, but positions his hand near his pistol holster, "As you know, my name is Jayson Mertil, but that's about the only true thing I've told you. As for why I'm actually on the run, it'll be easier if I just show you." he sys the last part while reaching across his body with his left hand, his right still at his holster, and pulls out a holodisk. Which, upon aactivation syas the following:

Jayson "Jay" Canderous Mertil

Fugitive

(Poitrait)

A known fugitive, Mertil is responsible for the following: the murder of 247 Stormtroopers, The destruction of 3 Imperial factories on Mandalore, The terrorist attack on the Imperial Academy on Mandalore, 23 other seprete terrorist attacks on Mandalore, member of the terriorist group known as the "Nite Owls", The attempted assasination of the Imperial govenor on Mandalore. He is armed and extremely dangerous.

Reward: 100,000 Credits, Per hunter

Wanted: Dead, or Alive

Current status: 9 Hunters killed, 4 Severly injured

Advice: Do not attack alone

Last known location: Corrillia

Time of Last Confirmed Sighting: 6 Months ago

Posted By: The Inquisitorus

"So, that is why I'm on the run. Would you, by any chance, know who the Inquisitorus is?" Jayson says as his companions read his bounty profile.

Naught's brow furrowed as she read the bounty posting. Imperial pronouncements had a tendency towards exaggeration, but this was hyperbolic even by their standards. Catching Jayson's question, she responds, "This Gand comes from a world that is isolated from the Galaxy, but knows enough to know that the Inquisitorus is an organization one does not want to be noticed by. Particularly if one is uncommonly gifted," she glances as Larik, "Others could probably tell you more."

Well, just when I thought my couldn't get worse, it did Jayson thinks as he relaxes slightly. "Like, ISB don't want to be noticed by them, or worse than them?" He asks. Why can't I stop thinking about that Nautoluan? he thinks, as an image of Khit suddenly pops into his mind.

Larik lets out a low whistle and looks at Jayson.

"The Inquisitors make ISB look like daycare workers. And they don't generally deal with average criminals or traitors. Like Naught said, you have to have certain, ah, attributes to be wanted by them. That being said, is there anything else you want to tell us?"

"Other than the fact that the Imperials exaggerated on the bounty. No, not really. But, please tell me two things, why are you here, and why are the Krogan in a festive mood?" Jayson asks, after he responds to Larik's question. He will then remove his helmet, and set it down on his speeder, revealing his black hair, and eyes.

"Why we're here is still a bit foggy even for us, to be honest," Larik says. "And the Krogan are celebrating because they basically coerced us into killing a beast that's apparently been plaguing them for, from my understanding, over 1,000 years. Most of us," he says, gesturing to Naught and toward the direction Naught walked, "are less enthused about ending the life of such a creature, especially since it was basically for sport.

"But when it's a choice of kill or be killed," he says, leveling a hard stare directly at Jayson, "we won't hesitate to act."

"The way of the warrior, Dar'Maanda. You have my respect."Jayson says, to Larik. After seeing his lack of comprehension, Jayson elaborates, "Dar'Maanda, means outsider in Mando'a, the ancient Mandalorian language."

"Larik Desh, I challenge you to single combat. You may have one weapon. If you beat me I shall be your slave. If I beat you or you decline, I will be equal to you in status, among the Krogan, and you will no longer be a Dar'Maanda. The chief of the tribe shall judge this duel. " Jayson, suddenly, says, after he overhears one of the Krogan saying "There are the Battlemasteres." And pointing to one of the other characters.

Larik closes his eyes and rubs his temples. "Well, this is new," he thinks to himself. "Never been challenged to a duel by a Mandalorian."

He looks over to Naught, starts to say something and stops. He refocuses his attention on Jayson.

"Listen, I've bungled a few attempts at communicating with these Krogan and understanding their culture and customs, but trust me when I say this is a bad idea," he says, exasperation building in his voice. "Those battle droids and monsters and, oh yeah I believe I mentioned the big ugly killer space worm! Those were all part of a test! A trial to become a so-called battle master. You become one by killing your opponent. It's not going to be some cute little play fight. Krogans expect battles to the death!"

Larik pokes himself in the chest with his right index finger. "I'm not dying so you," turning his hand around and using the same finger to poke Jayson's chest, "get to have some title. This isn't Mandalore. We aren't doing things that way."

Larik turns and starts to walk away. After a few feet he stops and turns back.

"And no, this doesn't make me a coward. It makes you a fool for thinking you can roll up to some unknown culture and muscle your way in. And it makes me a fool for trying to help you. Nothing I've said has gotten through to you. Nothing."

He turns back around and storms up the Rusty Mynock's boarding ramp. Outside he can be heard muttering, "There better be some Correllian Whiskey on this boat..." and the sound of rummaging comes from the cargo area.

A few seconds later Larik briefly pops back out onto the boarding ramp, a bottle of Whyren's Reserve in his right hand. He takes the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and spits it out into the dirt and rock to the side of the ramp. He gestures toward Jayson with the bottle, held securely in his fist.

"You know what the worst part is?" he shouts. "I'm generally much more affable than this!"

With that he takes a deep pull off the bottle and disappears back into the cargo hold.

Jayson follows Larik into the cargo hold,"Sorry, just pulling a joke. Those aren't the right words to initiate a challenge anyway." he says,"I'm sorry. But, I like to fight. It's a skill for the rest of the galaxy, but for Mandalorains, fighting is life. We live, eat, and breathe fighting. Our ancestors, the Taung, fought the Corasanti. We nearly beat them. you marched through perilous conditions to do so. In fact are code, called the Resol'nare, is t he core of what it means to be Mandalorian. A sacred law giving us direction and purpose. Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader—all help us survive. We must educate our children as Mandalorians, obey the commands of Mandalore, speak Mando'a and defend our clans. The current Mandalore is Fenn Shysa. But, the Empire thinks that the Emporer is Mandalore. I didn't belive it so I fought back, and you know what I got in return? The death of entire family, even extended family, my mother died in my arms. And you know what Larik, sometimes I do miss Mandalore, I wish I was still there living the life I should've had, and would've if the Empire hadn't come to Mandalore. Mandalore was ravaged by the war, near the end of it, the Shadow Collective took over. We foughtback. The Republic came and restored order, then they became the Empire, now most of us fight back. And, you know what, I'd be there fighting back if there hadn't been a massive bounty on me. So believe me when I say that I don't want a stupid title like Mandalore or Battlemaster, I don't want any damned title that results in death, more people have died over stupid titles like them over the ages, than about anything else. So don't go getting mad at me, you got it? And I'm sorry I didn't know the Krogan were bloodthirsty. I don't know why but you guys all put me on edge, like you radiate raw power, perhaps you could inforrm me about it. You seem like you radiate Jedi-like power, so does the Kaminoan, but none of the others do, why? The reason I'm acting like I am, is that usually I'm in control of the situation, but right now, I'm not. Now could you please answer my questions?"

Edit: It took me a little while, but I finally translated this all into Mando'a:

Mulak relaxed a little as the Mandalorian followed Larik up the boarding ramp. Mulak felt himself wanting to reach out with his power and hold the newcomer so he could talk some sense into him about becoming a Battlemaster.

Felling better Mulak starts off to find some gear before he asks to join them on their mission.

Larik takes another drink from the Whyren's Reserve bottle and mulls over Jayson's words.

"I've been honest with you and answered your questions to the best of my ability," he says, holding the bottle out in offering to the Mandalorian. "We were called here by a mysterious broker and, quite genuinely, none of us are really sure why. As for power, I have the faintest trickle. I assure you I'm no Jedi and I have no interest in being one.

"It may sound harsh, but you should probably get used to not being in control while you're on this planet. I don't think any of us are. Now drink up," he says flashing a devious grin. "I found a stash the previous owner must've forgotten about."

Jay gestures a no thank you, when Larik offers him the Whyren's reserve. "I think your right, I need to learn how to be used to not being in control. You ever tried Mandalorian Bourbon?" Jay asks Larik, "Strongest drink in the galaxy. You could mix it with the Wyren's Reserve. Force it down your throat, you'd have too. Heh, that reminds me, do you happen to know what the Force is?" Says Jay trying, and failing, to keep his voice casual, "Some craazy old guy said that I should 'Use the Force,' or something to me, when I was training with the Warden's of the Sky."

Larik chuckles at Jayson's attempt to be smooth, and takes another swig.

"I know about the Force, but I'm not one to teach you about it. Wale might have a way of doing so. He's the one in the storm trooper armor. Don't let that fool you though, he's a good guy. Hunted by the Empire. Good with a gun. You guys have a couple things in common. I'd go talk to him about it."

"Would you mind telling me where he is? And are you sure he isn't an Imperial."