Leto quickly realizes he scared the Trandoshan as he puffs up. He ponders “ Maybe these couriers are more dangerous than I thought considering its reaction ”.

Nodding, ” Its cool; thank you both anyway. I couldn’t give my friend a location of his employment so I figured I’d ask around if I thought someone knew Tucker ” he says to the pair. The human reaches for a business card from the kind Twi’lek‘s hand and glances at it. As he reads it he says “ Pleasure to meet your acquaintances... Hetaera? I’m Leto. Hope you guys have a great night ” he says with a grin.

Hetaera responds with a smile and nod of her own, and takes her leave of the club, Usshkr in tow. Returning to her sparse tenement, she immediately begins rummaging through a large trunk, filled with an assortment of costumes and props.. corsets and bustles, hosiery and headpieces..

She is without modesty, and the tiny apartment has no room for it, in any case. Nevertheless, the Trandoshan averts his gaze, as she strips and garbs herself like the ringmistress at some Ryn circus. He even has the surprising good grace to help her with a difficult fastener in the back.. which he barely manages with a hesitant claw. The fighter nearly balks, however, when she pulls out a mask for him to wear!

"C'mon.." she pleads, "Wear it, for me." Hetaera is holding up one of the stranger items in her leased collection, a green dragon mask.. bears a resemblance to him, actually... She smiles at the thought. Het is all about the visual impact, the theatrics, of everything she does. If she is taking him to the fight club, then they are both going in style. Making a few slits at the base of the neck, she manages to fit the mask onto her reluctant bodyguard's head.

In a corner, there is a small table with a mirror and an unlikely quantity of makeup and costume jewelry. Steering Usshkr in front of the mirror, she turns on her bright makeup light, and announces: "Behold!! Trauma, the Trandoshan Terror!" She's still not sure he's going for it.. "Besides.. You'll need a disguise, if we're to be inquiring about your Wookiee, while we're there."

On 2/22/2018 at 12:22 PM, satkaz said:

"I'll keep that in mind." Jace said as he made sure that his light blaster pistol was ready at a moment's notice. It was the second bar he'd been to in...well, a day. This time, it would be best if he was prepared.

"Anyway, you said you're a tracker and spotter? Hmm, that'd be useful. Leto and Re'peek are trying to get the old gang back and we need your skills, Giz."

"I'm in!" Giz squeaks, running his words together. "So, our target is Tucker?"

Giz walks toward a run down building made with clay and dura-steel patches. Looking up at the dysfunctional sign with only the word End lighting up.

"Huh? I guess It's just the End Bar then." Giz snorts while shaking his head.

6 hours ago, Edgehawk said:

She is without modesty, and the tiny apartment has no room for it, in any case. Nevertheless, the Trandoshan averts his gaze, as she strips and garbs herself like the ringmistress at some Ryn circus. He even has the surprising good grace to help her with a difficult fastener in the back.. which he barely manages with a hesitant claw. The fighter nearly balks, however, when she pulls out a mask for him to wear!

Usshkr turns his back to her while she disrobes and helps when asked to. Upon sight of the mask Usskr sighs " No I will not play dressss up..." He looks at the clearly Trandoshan inspired mask, no Trandoshan however was ever this bright of a green.

6 hours ago, Edgehawk said:

"C'mon.." she pleads, "Wear it, for me." Hetaera is holding up one of the stranger items in her leased collection, a green dragon mask.. bears a resemblance to him, actually... She smiles at the thought. Het is all about the visual impact, the theatrics, of everything she does. If she is taking him to the fight club, then they are both going in style. Making a few slits at the base of the neck, she manages to fit the mask onto her reluctant bodyguard's head.

In a corner, there is a small table with a mirror and an unlikely quantity of makeup and costume jewelry. Steering Usshkr in front of the mirror, she turns on her bright makeup light, and announces: "Behold!! Trauma, the Trandoshan Terror!" She's still not sure he's going for it.. "Besides.. You'll need a disguise, if we're to be inquiring about your Wookiee, while we're there."

Usshkr though he does not want to wear the mask doesn't resist when she forces the mask atop his head . " Thisss isss degrading you know that." He narrows his eyes at her as she finishes making her adjustments so it would fit perfectly. " No ssself ressspecting Hunter would wear thisss..." He protests when she spins him toward a mirror, " I look like a clown " he says grumbling. " Disssguissse? I need no Disssguissse. The Wookiee and I can both sssmell each other before we sssee each other no disssguissse will help me." He looks to the small Twilek who is using him as a mannequin and sighs once more. " Ghrakhowsk, pleassse don't make me wear this." The word was new to Hetaera but she felt it referred as a title for her.

After a long night at Sound Investments, Leto informs Salc of the 'Rusty Droid' details in regards to the communal Ganks. He wanted Salc be up-to-date if the Niktos suddenly rise to their prior status or if the Duros attempted something fancy to remain in power. Once Salc was briefed on the more specific underworld current events, Leto figured he did his job allowing him time to react to any required business decisions.

Leto made sure he said 'goodnight' to the staff and took his bike back to Re'peek's residence to only discover the place was empty. " Guess everybody is already scouting " he thought. Taking the opportunity of solitary, Leto flops on a comfortable couch and throws his jacket over his face to block the sunlight; the tired human takes a deep long nap until someone returns.

“After a brief period away, one of our best has returned! I give you... THE INCREDIBLE HULK !!” The announcer yells into his microphone as HU-1K walks into the arena with cheers from those who remembered him louder than a bantha’s mating call “This massive monster will be fighting a new challenger, the intrepid, intriguing, Iren Vasto!” The door on the opposite side opened to reveal a Whipid, This was going to be an interesting fight.

The Whipid went straight for HU-1K so HU-1K did the most logical thing he could think of, stepped aside and let the Whipid slam into the door, angry now the Whipid jumped at HU-1K and so HU-1K slammed the flat side of the sword into the Whipid. Iren went flying and hit the ground rolling, plunging by his sword into the ground, HU-1K picks up the batter d Whipid and smacks him face first into the side of the arena repeatedly until there was an indent and then proceeded to drag his face through the wall for a good twenty feet before letting go. After the Whipid hit the floor, HU-1K grabbed him by the leg and dragged him across the arena floor back to the door that the Whipid had come out then returned to his side and left the arena, he had won his first bout of the night.

Hetaera lets out a genuine, but exaggerated sigh. "No, Usshkr. Of course you don't have to wear the mask. I'll dress the clown for both of us!" Seeing the relieved hunter is struggling to remove the mask, she stands on tiptoes to assist him, and places it back in the trunk.

She then spends nearly an hour, channeling her inner huntress, or.. Scorekeeper, or whatever.. meticulously applying red makeup to her eye area. To the Trandoshan's utter annoyance, she insists on calling it war paint.. and to his eyes, she may as well have dunked the top half of her face in a vat of the stuff.

Now, assuredly, the hunter is ready to bash some skulls..

"Come on, Usshkr! Waiting on you..?"

She winks at him and grabs another cloak, different from before, but just as flamboyant.

When Hetaera tells him that he can take off the mask he immediately tries to rip t from his face, when Hetaera tries to reach his face he kneels down so she can help him. Then she starts to put on make up and insists that is would be war paint. " Red paint wouldn't hide you well on a Hunt. It would make it easssier to ssspot you." After an hour of painting and preening she calls for him to leave not noticing he had already placed himself at the door.

They arrive at the arena beneath the Interstellar , just in time to catch the hulking green.. droid..? cyborg..? Whatever it was, it had just finished wiping the floor, with what may have been a whiphid.

Hetaera was no stranger to bloodsports, from her time at the Hutt compound, but the combatants there were.. under duress, at the very least. Usshkr wants to enter into this, of his own accord?

Going on tiptoes, again, she cups a hand to his.. does he even have ears..? Leaning in close, she whispers, "You sure about this.. your arms just grew back, you know.. Let's go back to the Sound, and I'll show you my Dance of the Huntress."

22 hours ago, BeingofMortis said:

"I'm in!" Giz squeaks, running his words together. "So, our target is Tucker?"

Giz walks toward a run down building made with clay and dura-steel patches. Looking up at the dysfunctional sign with only the word End lighting up.

"Huh? I guess It's just the End Bar then." Giz snorts while shaking his head.

"Yep. But for now, I'll help you with your target." Jace said. "As for the bar...I've seen worse."

Jex would stand out in the bar as he heads towards the booth he was pointed towards. Not so much because of his xenology or his attire, but rather the way he carried himself. Everyone was either slumped over a drink or hunched in a corner, speaking in hushed voices. In the corner booth he would find a small gathering of humans laughing amongst themselves as they drink from a variety of colourful glasses. As the alien approaches the laughter would die as they look up at him with a mixture of expectancy and interested. 'Can we help you?' a young man with black hair hanging close to his eye line would ask in a puzzled voice.

Meanwhile, the newly christened End Bar was significantly welcoming. Most of those that passed down the road left a wide birth from the dingy looking entrance. Squatting in the entrance was a group of about six or so Weequay were hunched over, forming a small circle between them. In the centre was a handful of chance cubes, and an impressive number of credits was exchanging hands with each roll. One would glace up at the newcomers, an ugly scar disfiguring his face. 'Waddya saps wants?' he'd growl as he casts the dice back into the centre.

Back at the underground fight club, the crowd surrounding the hastily erected ring were already baying for blood. Unlike many of the fights 'up top', an audience was promised a real fight. No one wasted their money rigging fights this low in the city, and the end result was much more organic, and much more bloody.

The man who ran this club was a nasty individual who used to buy and repurpose droids for death matches. No one cares if a droid gets torn apart after all, and it looks much more spectacular than a regular bout. However, since this new droid had shown up, things had changed. It had become a proving ground of sorts for up and comers in the world of fighting. After all, who wouldn't want to see deadly alien take on an oversized droid? The man was skinny with a mop of light brown hair combed to one side, and a large bristly moustache sitting below his nose.

Seeing the Twi'Lek and Trandoshan arrive, the man would wave them towards the ring. 'Oi! You're late! Get your lizard friend in the ring if you want to see any credits. The prize money is 200 today'.

When the announcer calls them out, there is no turning back. Hetaera struts into the ring, taking to the spotlight, like a lizard basks in the sun.

Shrugging out of her cloak, she draws her whip, and activates her amplifier. The low hum of the neuronic weapon is menacing, and when she flicks it, the electric *crack* gains the attention of all.

"Ladies and Gentle-beings!" She turns, and continues, smiling: "And not-so-gentle-beings.. From the dankest, darkest jungle in the galaxy, I bring to you.. The Trandoshan Trauma!! Here to paint this arena to match the verdant hues of his homeworld.. with the green scraps of this machine!"

Usshkr stepped into the ring to square off against this droid. While it towered over most beings in the vicinity of the ring it was barely taller than Usshkr and he wouldn't let size intimidate him he had killed bigger things before. The only thing that concerned him was that the droid was allowed a weapon while he himself was armed only with his claws, "Sssee if you can find me a pair of Brassss Knucklesss in this arena..." He whispered to Hetaera.

The venue is packed with characters who might very well be carrying such a common item.. but very few, with knuckles the size of Usshkr's..

Hetaera is about to give up, when she spies a glint in the pile that was cleaned up from the previous bout. Sure enough, buried in the clump of blood-caked Whiphid fur, is a set of knuckles that her Trandoshan protector can actually use!

Slipping Usshkr the brass knuckles, she goes up on tiptoe, and kisses his scaly cheek. "Hang on to your arms, in there."

Usshkr is a bit surprised by the kiss he receives, " Thanksss. " he takes the knuckles in his claws and equips them luckily they are large enough and should give his punches the force they need to break the armored droid. He readied himself an waited for the match to begin thinking of ways to get around the robot's clear reach advantage.

"You must be Vibroface." Jace says to the Weequay with the scar. "Need to talk to Tucker, seems like you're a guy who would know something."

Hopefully, this Vibroface knew something about Tucker. But if it came to blows...he and his band of merry folks could be something to worry about.

The owner of the fight club with shoulder his way up to the side of the ring. As he rent, several burly Aqualish had hastily erected a cage around the ring and the contestants inside. He didn't want to see any more destruction of his property. Also cage matches were always popular, and made the owner a lot more money. 'Alright! If you want that prize money, you better put one a good show!' He'd shout through the bars of the cage. Shortly after, a bell would ring, signalling the start of the fight.

Meanwhile, Jace's inquiry would not be met kindly. The group would fall silent, the dice clacking against the floor before settling. They would slowly clamber to their feet, the Weequay circling the pair. The aien with the scarred face would move to stand in front of Jace, a nasty snarl on his lips. 'What did you call me dead man?' he'd growl as a hand moves into his battered jacket. The others would follow suite, most likely reaching for weapons. 'You know, we don't know no Tucker, and you and your stubby little friend really wandered into the wrong part of town friend'.

Across the sector, while others prepared to fight and investigate, others were being set to work. Shura had been called in to cover a shift for one of her team mates in her current employment. This job was to guard a small, decidedly nondescript building in the centre of the sector. What an outsider wouldn't be able to tell was that this building housed a large amount of high tech databases. A lot of illegal activities lacked their own tech experts and would rather not leave evidence of their works. Buildings like these were popular for storing records and data, sort of like an information safe house.

'Hey Shura! Come on, you're on duty!' A young man would shout to her as he left the entrance to the building. 'Nothing of interest happening here today, but you're still getting paid' he'd say cheerily. This was Meetan, a rookie mercenary who had never really seen any action before this job. Still, he was friendly enough, and hadn't shot anyone by accident, so he had that going for him. His hair was cut in the standard style made popular by the military, and he wore a brown coat over a oil stained shirt and trouser. Much like most of the other mercenaries in this company, they weren't particularly affluent.

HU-1K returns to the arena and seeing by that his opponent has only Brass Knuckles, plunges his sword into the ground next to him, and walks out, he could respect this Trandoshan, at least for now.

"Well, seems I got the wrong person..." Jace would say, getting ready to draw his own pistol out. "But something tells me you're not willing to let us go. So be it."

Usshkr squares up against the droid and throws the first punch, A right hook that catches in what he thought was the droids head. The punch was very loud as it was the sound of metal crashing against metal , but even with how loud the crack sounded it didn't do too much damage. The droid has tough armor but there was a small dent where Usshkr's clawed fist met the droid.

On 2/27/2018 at 5:11 PM, Rabobankrider said:

Across the sector, while others prepared to fight and investigate, others were being set to work. Shura had been called in to cover a shift for one of her team mates in her current employment. This job was to guard a small, decidedly nondescript building in the centre of the sector. What an outsider wouldn't be able to tell was that this building housed a large amount of high tech databases. A lot of illegal activities lacked their own tech experts and would rather not leave evidence of their works. Buildings like these were popular for storing records and data, sort of like an information safe house.

'Hey Shura! Come on, you're on duty!' A young man would shout to her as he left the entrance to the building. 'Nothing of interest happening here today, but you're still getting paid' he'd say cheerily. This was Meetan, a rookie mercenary who had never really seen any action before this job. Still, he was friendly enough, and hadn't shot anyone by accident, so he had that going for him. His hair was cut in the standard style made popular by the military, and he wore a brown coat over a oil stained shirt and trouser. Much like most of the other mercenaries in this company, they weren't particularly affluent.

Of course he's excited. It's his first assignment, Shura thought, Noob. She stared out into the uneventful evening, still watchful of trespassers. The dark purple Twi'lek remained alert and attentive, her aqua blue eyes clear and sharp like broken glass. The childhood scar that ran from just above her right eyebrow to just below her cheekbone gave her the appearance that she could handle anything.

It was suppose to be Jontu's shift that night. Apparently, the company accepted "hangovers" as legitimate excuses. The job Shura currently had was a poodoo job that paid very little. For now, this was what was paying the bills until she could find a better offer elsewhere.

On 2/27/2018 at 5:11 PM, Rabobankrider said:

Meanwhile, Jace's inquiry would not be met kindly. The group would fall silent, the dice clacking against the floor before settling. They would slowly clamber to their feet, the Weequay circling the pair. The aien with the scarred face would move to stand in front of Jace, a nasty snarl on his lips. 'What did you call me dead man?' he'd growl as a hand moves into his battered jacket. The others would follow suite, most likely reaching for weapons. 'You know, we don't know no Tucker, and you and your stubby little friend really wandered into the wrong part of town friend'.

"Hey! If this gets messy I'm gonna have to tell Slogo the Hutt about this!" Giz yells. "We're his bounty hunters, so put your blasters away and give us the info we need." Giz adds with a scowl. "Or it will get messy." Giz hopes they're buying it says, "And don't lie, Slogo will find out!"

HU-1K absorbs the Trandoshans punch and delivers one of his own. A massive hard hitting uppercut that would give the Trandoshan a slight disadvantage as it significantly hampered him. This would be a fun fight for once.

Usshkr takes the uppercut and staggers back, the droid had the advantage of having a bladed pair of brass knuckles the fight wasn't going to be easy. For those watching the fight from a distance it looked like Usshkr wasn't too badly hurt but Hetaera as the ring girl could see he was bleeding from the droids vibe knuckles. Usshkr went for another punch and managed to knock the droid down he feels like he the punch didn't do much else than that but it would make for a show as the colossal machine fell over an hit the cage behind him scratching more paint off the bars than itself.

HU-1K hurriedly stands back up and smashes both his fists down on the Trandoshan taking advantage of his temporary distraction from the shock of realizing that he was bleeding. The blunt force trauma would hurt but it wouldn’t wound the Trandoshan in the long run.