Mulak fell to his knees as image's of death and carnage assault his mind. Again he reaches for weapons that are not there. Some of these images were of the Krogan's warrior like traditions and wars long past. An image of his fight with the ancient came to him and in that moment when he was swallowed a death he thought was imminent, a feeling of peace washes over him. I found peace in death he thinks to himself. Now he must find peace in life.

As his mind calms he asks the creature, "Am I supposed to be with these off worlders?" "Is that why I am still alive?"

Images of you, with the group, in an epic battle against ancient foes, and new ones, is your response.

Larik was just exiting the ship after his meditation when he saw a swoop skim across the horizon and barrel toward their location. His lightsaber was safely hidden back in his his great coat, but the Dragoon blaster he'd found in the arena was holstered and easily accessible on his right hip. The swoop came to a stop and Larik slid the back of his hand down the lapel of his coat, tucking it behind the holster in one smooth motion.

The newcomer was an intimidating presence in his full Mandalorian battle armor, but it would take more than an iconic look to concern Larik considering what the group had just survived.

He steps forward and speaks to the swoop rider.

"I'm afraid we've got some business to attend to before we're leaving this planet, so I'm not sure how much help we'll be in that regard. As for a bounty hunter guild, I doubt you'll find one here. The natives aren't big fans of off-worlders. But maybe, depending on your intentions, we might be able to work out something mutually beneficial.

"The name's Larik Desh, and you are?"

" Jayson Mortil , Clan Mortil, House Ordo."Cassius replies. " I heard there were Force sensitives in the area, and I was hoping to capture a few. You have no idea how hard it is to make a name for yourself in the galaxy, as a bounty hunter."

Only pure willpower prevents Larik's eyes from going wide at the newcomer's bold proclaimation. He doesn't risk looking around to see who else in within earshot. He needs to prevent this from going incredibly sideways incredibly quickly.
"Force sensitives? You must be desperate for a pay day. Everyone knows they're long gone. The Inquisitors have mopped up whatever ones Order 66 didn't eliminate.

"As someone who knows a bit about business and making a credit or two, I'd recommend considering a new approach Cassius Rau. It's damned hard to collect bounties things that don't exist. Mind you, that's just my opinion. I wouldn't try to tell someone how to run their own operation. Speaking of which, most bounty hunters I've encoutered have their own ship. How is it that you're in need of a lift?"

"I'm down on my luck at the moment." Jayson says, "I know that my chances are low, but..." Cassius stops short, "How do you know what the order 66, or whatever was called?" He asks.

Larik curses internally. He was too specific.
"Not a history buff huh?" Larik says. "When you grow up on a trading post with millions of spacers coming in and out you pick up stories. The grizzled old ones always talked and talked trading boasts and stories, never paying attention to the little kid carrying supplies to their ship. The stories I heard always interested me, so I had a friend of mine that was good with computers help me research them. Some were bantha poodoo, but others - usually the most hard to believe, mind you - checked out.

"We realized digging into that kind of info might be dangerous and we got scared off from doing any more research into it. But that number," he trails off, looking past Cassius out into the distance, internally thinking a wistful pause might help sell this complete sham job of tale.
"That number always stuck with me. Mostly because it made me wonder, " Larik says with a smile spreading across his face, "what the other 65 orders were.

"How long have you been down on your luck Cassius? I'm guessing it probably coincided with your arrival on this oh so hospitable rock of a planet," Larik says with derision, gesturing to the bombed out ruins of buildings, rocky ground and scrub vegetation - all of which seemed to share a similar hue of gray.

"My father had a short bout of being a teacher for the clones, he told me what a few of the other ones were. Order 65 was the removal of the Chancellor from his position, by force. 64 was the same except for the senate." Jayson says, "But, please tell me why are you lying? Were you a Jedi, or related to one, or friends with one?" seeing that he had struck a nerve with the word parents, Cassius asks "Was he or she involved with freeing Mandalore?"

"I've been down on my luck ever since I blew up the Black sun processing plant. Seriously, you have no idea how hard it is to hide from those guys. I lost my ship in the crash, she was a beauty. A Teroch-class, one of the last ones in existence." Jayson responds

Hearing a new voice in conversation with Larik, Naught put down the stubborn coupling she had been trying to fit, and went to the exit of the ship to see who had arrived. Watching from the boarding ramp, she noted with some concern Larik's consternation, and scrutinized the newcomer carefully. Bristling with weaponry and wearing heavy armor, he certainly looked the part of the enterprising bounty hunter. Best to avoid a fight with this one, Naught thought. Even with superior numbers, that weaponry could probably do some serious harm before he went down.

"You would seem to have poor timing, coming to this world," Naught called to the interloper. "The presence of the Empire in orbit would likely have scared any force sensitives that might have been here underground, and the battle raging will make for a treacherous flight off planet." Walking up to stand beside Larik, Naught added, "This Gand is curious as to why a bounty hunter trying to hide from the Black Sun would turn around and seek fame by hunting force sensitives. Though this might not be a bad planet to hide on, if the crossfire doesn't kill you."

"Well to be exact… Black Sun has a bounty on Force Sensitives." Jayson replies, "So I bring a few in. They forgive me. At least the Vigo who's factory it is will forgive me. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mention that I snuck into one of his highest security factories, to his boss."

Larik chuckles.

"Yes, I would say messing with the Black Sun and being stranded here does qualify as having a bit of bad luck. As for whether I'm lying, well, you are just going to have to wonder about that. But, like I said before, since you are clearly in need of a ride and there's always a chance we might need a bit more muscle to back us up during our stay, maybe we can reach some kind of an agreement. Follow me so we can see how bad a judge of character I am."

Leading Cassius back to the ship, Larik gets out his comlink, hails his group and starts talking loud enough loud enough for Cassius to hear.

"Khit, Wale, Lama: we've got a visitor. Some poor soul crashed here and needs a lift. Says he's a bounty hunter searching for force-sensitives to take in. I told him it'd be easier to find a wampa vacationing on Tattooine than someone who still practices that old magic, but he seems to think otherwise. Anyway he needs a way off planet and he looks like he'd be good in a fight if we need support. Thought we could try to work out a trade of services."

He pauses and turns to Naught.
"You know Naught, this reminds me of that time back on Thyferra when we helped those Devaronians."
The smile on his face is still there, but not in his eyes as he speaks the code phrase indicating probable danger he and Naught worked out prior to even meeting the rest of their compatriots.

Noticing the glance that his new companions exchange, along with looking at the humans eyes, he knows they don't trust him. Well I don't trust them either he thinks Otherwise, I would have told them why I'm actually on the run.

"Regarding your comment on my bad luck. Things tend to balance out for me." Jayson says, "I get some good luck, such as someone leaves behind the blueprints for the factory behind, so I can shut down the power, then I manage to take out all the guards. But then, some how, one of the guardsd Personal datapads was recording the entire thing. And it just so happened that it was the one where all the passwords were stored.But once they acxquire it, it runs out of battery. Then I manage to escape them, and wind up trapped here." (OOC: Bonus points if you recognize the reference about "things balancing out.")

Khit eyes this newcomer before approaching him. With her long barrel rifle slung on her back, Auto Slug thrower, with grenade launcher, casually in one hand, pistol on her hip and knife in a sheath on her calf she approaches him. "Your well armed there, that rifle does look quite well made... But do you really know how to use it? Or is it just so you can scare street urchins away? We don't like stray shots hitting the wrong target if you get my meaning..."

Mulak gestured to the beast in thanks. "Thank you for your insight. I will accompany these off world warriors. I am looking forward to learning how to use this....force."

With that comment Mulak's mind returned to the present. He turns to Wale. I am sensing something from the off worlders. Lets go see whats going on.

Mulak returns to where the off worlders are talking to a heavly armed person. He stays with ear shot and listens.

Jayson looks at Khit for about half minuete before responding."I know how to handle my weapons, I made most of them. Nice slugthrower, custom built Krogan auto fire model with a built in grenade launcher. Haven't seen one in person before. But aa great model nonetheless."

Holding his eye contact she quietly responds"Just so long as your between me and our enemies we will get along just fine... i'm sure." She turns on her heals and heads straight into the Chiefs tent (or house?) and isn't seen for the rest of the night.

" Little ray of sunshine isn't she. " Jayson says, as Khit walks toward the chief's tent, " You guys all this friendly? "

"Well," Larik says, "we just got done taking on a platoon of B1 Battle Droids, a dozen half-organic/half-cybernetic abominations, and a killer space worm the size of a Nebulon B Frigate, and then pulled out a partially digested, yet inexplicably alive, Krogan warrior from said space worm's gullet. You'll understand if we're all a bit on edge."

"It has been something of a difficult day," Naught adds dryly. "The Krogan seem to be in something of a festive mood this evening, if you've an inclination to seek their hospitality."

"Of course. But, please tell me, what are your names?" Jayson asks.

"My name's Lama." says Lama, "Would you mind removing your helmet?"

"Yes I would mind." Jayson responds.

"This Gand does not have a name," Naught says, "but this seems to give others trouble, and so Naught suffices as a method of address." She shrugs her shoulders and continues, "If that is the extent of polite conversation for you, then this Gand would suggest that you be on your way."