Wrong Post Office (Res)

[Kuhblam]

Dulgan, you shouldn't be here. The Anjiliacs don't like you, remember?

He shifted uneasily a few in his booth, one leg crossed over the knee of the other with his arms laid back horizontally. Rave music was blaring, shots were being taken, neon lights were flashing against the walls of what was an otherwise dark room, and just about every hooker on Nal Hutta was in the vicinity. Dulgan knew to stay away from them; they all worked for the Hutts, and the information they garnered was sold to those slimy slugs for extra credits. Furthermore, each and everyone one of them reeked of spice and he could tell a glit-biter when he saw one. To say the least, he found the stuff as well those who used it to be revolting. A bottle of Tihaar or Cognac liquor and some cigarettes could do the trick just fine. He hadn't been drunk for quite some time, however; there wasn't any time for that.

Needless to say, he wasn't here on a pleasure trip. This was the home-world of the Hutts, and Dulgan wasn't exactly on good terms with them. Taklur Anjiliac hadn't forgotten him and still had a price on his head and a fairly hefty one at that, and in addition to that both the Republic and Sith Empire had him on bounty rolls albeit smaller ones. The Republic? Extradition to the Jedi Order, and that wasn't about to happen. The Sith? Well, self-explanatory. He'd have a better shot of surviving the second Cron Supernova than being taken into custody by the frakkin' Sith. In any rate, this was supposed to be a quick trip and it would remain a quick trip.

Hopefully.

He was here for a package: variedSith IFF tags that could be attached to Spearpoint vessels in order to trick the baddies until they decided to take a visual and it was too late. Quintus had assigned him the job since none of the normal grunts could do it and in his words "he was the crazy bastard who had taken on the Darath."

"Lookin' for a little love, hun? Only 100 credits."

A woman made a wink at him from the nearest bar, flashing a side profile of her chest. Dulgan cracked off a smile and tossed her a credit chit.

"Sorry ma'am, only have 99. There's 50, go buy yourself dinner."

The woman frowned as she caught it, then went straight back to looking for customers. Losing sight of her, Dulgan adjusted the light amplification on his sunglasses and slid his jacket sleeve up to check his chrono. 8:03 PM. The mark, whoever he was, was late. To his immediate left however, was an unscheduled and unexpected visit: seven thugs led by a Feeorin with a nasty face scar entering the club. The Feeorin sneezed, looked around, caught site of Dulgan and snarled before he started pushing his way through the clubbers to the latter's booth.

Uhh-oh.

"Terren, I'm going to be a bit late. Keep the engines warmed up,"

Dulgan said into his com link, then dropped it under the table and crushed it underfoot via a heavy stomp with his heel. Brushing himself off, he slid out of the booth and stood up to meet them. The Feeorin was easily half a foot taller than Dulgan, but it made no difference. In fact, the two were past acquaintances.

"Bardem."

"Dulgan, Dulgan, Dulgan. You should have known that if you came anywhere near Hutt territory Taklur was going to nail your behind."

Bardem was one of Taklur's local lieutenants, and Dulgan had worked with him before on occasion. The alien snatched the toothpick from his mouth and flicked it into Dulgan's face. Dulgan, however, knew better, and reached out with the Force to grab the tooth-pick mid air. His gloved hand made a twirling motion with his pointer and middle finger and then sent it right back into Bardem's face, who was stoic and didn't bother to flinch one bit. The other thugs seemed to be taken-aback, but stood their ground behind Bardem, whose imposing figure and brawn was a good match for Dulgan's suave character and skill.

"Still doing magic tricks, I see. Won't help you when Taklur decides he wants a new force-sensitive carbonite painting."

"Don't forget I have the magic wand to match it that I made in arts and crafts, Bardem."

Dulgan chuckled with a wide grin and pulled the side of his jacket away, revealing not only the blaster holstered underneath his arm but the lightsaber hanging from his belt. Bardem knew well enough what it was since his quarry was making a threat out of it, but he didn't back down unlike the other thugs who shifted a bit. Instead, he cracked his knuckles and nodded at his men that it was time for a little R&R. Then the smile disappeared from Dulgan's face. In such a tight space, he'd be hard pressed to defend himself without hurting innocent bystanders. Failing in that endeavor certainly wasn't going to help his karma with the Force, either.

"I'm going to enjoy breaking your back one vertebrae at a time, Dulgan."

Fantastic.

Things were about to get ugly.

[Res]

The cantina that he was in was homebase for the Firrerreo. Rolithir had been working for the Hutt for a little while now. He was getting familiar with the way things were done while dealing with them. The gold skinned man sat with his feet up on the table leaning back in his chair watching the escorts do their thing. It was one thing for them to do it willingly but if someone took advantage of one that's when Quinior had a problem.

Ever so often his eyes would catch a darker skinned, what appeared to be a human sitting alone. It was unusual that someone that was dressed as well as this bloke would occupy such an establishment. Noticing closer he saw he was wearing dark glasses that he never took off. Seeing him wave a call girl by Rol was impressed, Might have a civil persons in this place finally He thought as saw a group of guys walk in.

The men made their way to the man that was sitting alone. Straightening himself in the chair he watched the human say something a device and smash it. The smuggler didn't recognize any of the men that approached the guy but Rolithir could tell they knew each other.

After a few verbal exchanged the one Dulgan referred to as Bardem flicked a toothpick. When it was caught it without touching it, Rol jumped a little know that Dulgan was a force user. The Freeoin didn't budge while his two buddies room a defensive posture behind Bardem.

"Oh, this isn't going to be pretty"

Rolithir said to no one in particular, and readied himself for what was to come. Though he had an idea, some may call it stupid but it may work. Getting up from his chair he made his way to the group. Standing at his full height he smiled his signature one fang smile he has.

"Now now, can't we all just play nice. But if we can't, couldn't you guys take this somewhere else. There's too many innocent people, well they think they are innocent."

The brown eyed Firrerreo said chuckling to himself at the last part of his statement. He glances back and fourth waiting for a response.

[Kuhblam]

Dulgan's fingers were restless and they were drumming on the opposite arm he crossed them with. Any second now, he was going to snatch his Corvlic 44 and drill a quick shot clean through Bardem's forehead.

Three.

Two.

One

And-----.

"Now now, can't we all just play nice. But if we can't, couldn't you guys take this somewhere else. There's too many innocent people, well they think they are innocent."

Before he could do it, a gold-skinned fellow a wee bit taller than Dulgan with a little extra mass had barged his way through the crowd of partying drunkards and into the little clearing the two adversaries had created. A circle of bystanders were watching now eagerly, although the bartenders could hardly care. Brawls like these erupted every day; this was Nal Hutta and there were no laws except one law and that was not to cross the Hutts. Dulgan would be hardpressed to get out of here once Taklur was aware he'd taken care of the cronies sent after him and whoever this self-appointed vigilante was playing hero was going to make that ten times harder.

Who the hell is this guy?

Bardem produced another snarl and motioned for three of his men to take care of whoever the hell this guy was. And before Dulgan could see it coming, his lack of attention at the moment produced a nice slap on the cheek in the form of Bardem's fist slugging him right across the face and knocking him full around into the waiting chest of a nice woman who immediately screamed and pushed Dulgan off onto the floor with a thud.

"Ouch,"

Dulgan said, propping himself up with one elbow as he rubbed his aching face tenderly. His glove came away covered in blood, and he felt like his cheek had just been punched in by an overgrown Gamorrean. As he flipped over, Bardem bent down to grab him by the throat and hoisted him up into the air with sheer brute force; Dulgan's feet listed lazily a foot above the floor as he squirmed incessantly.

"Any last requests? Taklur might be merciful about disposing your body in pieces."

Dulgan gritted his teeth, both hands latched onto Bardem's and trying to loosen the grip Bardem's fingers had on his throat. His words were strained, but they were clear enough.

"Nope. You?"

Bardem's eyes went wide and his brow raised at Dulgan's odd statement. One hand falling away to reach inside his jacket and pulling out his blaster pistol, Dulgan pressed it into Bardem's chest and pulled the trigger as many times as he could before the magazine went click! Blaster shots scared away the clubbers in droves as crimson red shots burst out the back of Bardem's torso and his grip loosened, collapsing into a heap while dropping Dulgan to the floor who was now gasping for breath and wiping the blood from his nose and mouth. His gaze turned towards the golden-skinned fellow again, who was still standing silently.

"Well don't just stand there, do something you useless piece of nerf dung!"

Dulgan yelled, sending the emptied blaster pistol clattering to the floor and pulling himself up as he got on his feet to face the other thugs who, although shocked at the death of their fearless leader, were just now getting ready to beat Dulgan and the new-comer to a pulp with all manners of vibroblades, brass knuckles and blasters.

[Res]

Rolithir stood waiting for a respond from the men. He got one, though not the one he was wanting. The confused looked on the Freeoin said it all. They weren't amused but the witty banter from the Firrerreo. Quinior wasn't coming over to fight the thugs along side Dulgan, he was trying to have them head outside. Though that wasn't what happens.

It all happens so quickly, Rol didn't really know what to do. He saw the large Bardem sucker punch the human in the face. Watching as the dark skinned man fall on the well blessed woman, Rolithir knew what was going to happen next. Sure enough Dulgan feel to the floor and the smuggler cringed. Before he could do anything Bardem grabbed Dulgan. Rolithir saw the man reach for the blaster, that when he took cover. Hearing the shots fired he knew that Bardem was down. Seeing the Freeoin laying on the floor he looked at the man in the glasses. Snapping to reality when Dulgan spoke.

"Oh, right"

Spinning around taking the henchman off guard he struck him with the back of his fist. Looking back he helped Dulgan off the floor and smirked and nodded. Not seeing the guy with the viboknife coming at him, Rol was cut down the left arm. This not setting to well with the Firrerreo sweeping the legs and the man but the guy jumping over his leg.

By this time everyone had stopped what they were doing and started watching. Some even were betting on who was going to win. With one swift kick from the first henchman Rol fell against a table where betting was taking place.

"Hundred credits on us"

As he was finished the thug smashed the table narrowly missing the smugglers head.

[Kuhblam]

"Oh, right."

Dulgan raised an eyebrow unenthusiastically at the man's rather dull statement as he helped him up. Standing up on his own two feet and begrudgingly gifting his new companion a nod of acknowledgement, Dulgan rolled his neck to either side before fixing his jacket and brushing off any dust that might have collected on the trim while he had been making out with the floor. Of course, there wasn't much time for him to look pretty and go searching for that woman with the buxom chest. Another henchmen went after the would-be hero, slicing him down the side of his left arm with a vibroblade and nearly crushing him in two through the center of a booth table where some stunned gamblers were adjusting credit chits to place bets on the fight taking place right before their very eyes.

"Hundred credits on us,"

Dulgan heard the man mutter as he shook his own head.

"Right."

He didn't have any time for spectating, however, as another of Bardem's thugs rushed him with a pair of vibroknuckles. Dulgan dodged the first punch, slipping by it to the side, and then a second punch, falling away just out of reach as the blow landed short and failed to connect with the center of his torso. The third slug he parried, using his toned muscles to keep the arm at bay as he landed a sucker punch right in the man's gut that made him double over. A quick elbow strike to his back knocked the man to the club floor, and then Dulgan landed a nice kick with the front of his boot to permanently knock the man unconscious. Satisfied with his work, Dulgan spat on his inert body and was just about to walk away when his Weequay friend came into focus with a nasty grin on his face.

The Weequay gangster pulled out a blaster pistol from the holster on his leg, and it was clear he preferred volume of shots to quality of accuracy. The joker with the shades dove over the top of the bar with a tuck n' roll style maneuver and hurriedly crawled against the inside of it as bright red laser bolts shattered the glasses lined up and down the bar and along the shelves behind it. Dulgan covered his head as the pieces rained down from above, wincing with each individual ping off his cranium. However, the humanoid had stopped to reload and Dulgan shot up like a rocket. His gloved hands outstretched, he reached out with the Force and snatched the gun right out from the thug's hands. Accordingly, the blaster went flying right into the crowd and out of sight, and its former owner was shocked with disbelief as Dulgan came charging over the top of the bar and tackled him at full speed.

Their resulting collision ended in irony; as Dulgan trucked his quarry, they slammed into the thug attacking the man who was helping the ex-Jedi and took all three of them tumbling outside through a side door out of view from those who had remained inside the club as the fight spilled into the grimy streets beyond.

[Res]

After picking himself off the floor from spinning away from the kick that aimed for his head. Rol threw a couple of punches landing in the face it the thug. He was unaware of what was going on with Dulgan. That was until the Weequay started firing the blaster at the human that took cover behind the bar. When that happen the Firrerreo and the man he had been tussling with took cover.

Glancing up from under the table he saw the blasted fly from the hand of the alien. The smuggler and the thug came out from their cover and were closet to the door now. Just as Rolithir was going to strike the man Dulgan and the Weequay slammed into the Kiffar. Standing there for a moment wondering what had happen. Stepping into the door way he peeked out seeing the three men laying on the ground. Stepping through the doorway picking up the human.

"Come on, we gotta get out of here."

The Weequay was the first to get up. Taking the thug off guard Rolithir grabbed the head of the alien and slammed it into his knee knocking him unconscious. With his Firrerreo healing ability the cut on his arm had stopped bleeding but still hurt. But there were so much adrenaline coursing through his body he didn't pay it much mind. Getting back to Dulgan trying to help him again.

[Kuhblam]

Dulgan was still rubbing the back of his head when he felt two hands help him up, allowing him to more easily get up on his feet.

"Come on, we gotta get out of here."

The ex-Jedi nodded in agreement, cracking his neck and fitting his jacket properly again just like before as he muttered a slightly sarcastic response.

"Not a half-bad idea, pal. This is Taklur's turf, he'll be sending more of his kiddies here soon enough."

His new golden-skinned companion thwacked the Weequay by connecting his face with his knee, sending the thug right back into the dust. From what he could see, the other gangster was down and out for the count; that little tuck and dive out into the street had hit them all a little harder than previously expected. Another small cloud of bystanders had gathered to observe what was going on, but Dulgan didn't waste any time brushing his way past them as hurriedly as possible while waving for the humanoid to follow him. This wasn't a time for dilly-dallying; Taklur Anjiliac was one of the most if not the most dangerous Hutt currently residing on Nal Hutta, and he and Dulgan were clearly not on good terms at the moment.

Walking down the alley-way in the direction of what he believed to be the landing bay where his ship and Terren would be, Dulgan spoke to his still un-identified friend. His voice was still a bit raspy, but he had otherwise caught his breath. His hand reached inside his jacket to look for his blaster, but the emptiness of the shoulder holster produced both a frown and the reminder that he had left the weapon behind in the club after making Bardem into swiss cheese.

"You realize what you just did, right? You're a dead man now, just like I am."

[Res]

After the human had gotten up and informed him that it was a good idea to leave. Rol looked around and saw a crowd starting to form outside. Scanning the crowd before watching the force user skitter off down an ally toward the docks. Seeing the gamblers that he had paid hundred credits to was standing there with money. Walking over before following his new friend, snagging the credit chips.

"I believe this is mine and you gents have a wonderful day."

Taking off in a run he caught up to the dark skinned man that was now taking a breather. Rolithir stopped and caught his breath as he heard Dulgan state an obvious fact. He knew that they were both screwed, but the way it seemed Dulgan was screwed no matter what. After catching his breath Rol spoke.

"So you gonna tell me something I don't know. I was on Taklur's payroll, but I guess I just punched my pink slip."

Quinior said with a chuckle at the end. He was trying to liven up the hectic situation before Taklur's henchmen found them. He was unfamiliar of the one that met the business end of Dulgans blaster and the two thugs that was with him.

"Also I think this'll cover the loss of your blaster"

The Firrerreo said handing him half of the thousand credits that he took from the bookie. Placing the other half into his pocket he looked around and saw the docks for the ships. Then he spotted someone that he thought might be looking for them. Grabbing his companion and pulling him behind a wall to hide.

[Kuhblam]

"So you gonna tell me something I don't know. I was on Taklur's payroll, but I guess I just punched my pink slip."

Dulgan gave a big hearty laugh as he moved down the alleyway. The docks were already visible, as he had chosen the club for it's proximity to the spaceport. Terren and the Concord Blade were waiting in a hangar nearby, and he could smell freedom. No local bulk cruisers were going to catch him today, and he doubted the Hutts would be able to muster a group of gunboats in time to prevent him from leaving the planet. The math was working in his head, of course, but things rarely ever went as expected in Dulgan's life.

"Pink slip? Buddy, you just signed a waiver to become an organ donor. Your first mistake was working for Taklur. Your second mistake was deciding that I needed help."

Although I do appreciate it.

"Also I think this'll cover the loss of your blaster."

He caught the credit chit in his hand and nodded satisfactorily in acknowledgement. However, when he looked down at it his smile dissipated. Five-hundred credits? That might buy him half a holdout blaster with the quality of a lower ward smith.

"Thanks,"

Dulgan muttered.

They were nearing the hangar and he could see it. Dulgan was so focused on bursting into a run that he had begun to ignore the feelings and ripples in the Force around him as well as his surroundings. Before he could go any further, however, he was yanked into an alleyway by the collar courtesy his companion.

"What in the world are----?"

Instinctively he fixed his jacket and was about to yell several expletives asking his friend what the big idea was. However, stopping attuned his senses once more and brought him back from tunnel vision. He felt it, a threat coming closer that was looming, almost illusive. Tendrils in the Force writhed and wiggled away from his mind and probed and soon enough he found what he was looking for. Four men making a patrol round, and they probably had more friends around, too. This meant Taklur's men had reached the spaceports and were coming them for Dulgan and possibly his ship. Respectively, he turned to face his companion.

"Look here, pal, you've got two choices. You can either help me run and gun my way to my ship and stick along for the ride, or you can stay here and take your chances with Taklur's gangs. Pick your poison, they're both going to suck."

[Res]

Leaning against the wall as he waits for the thugs to pass. Gazing over to Dulgan he listens to what he has to say. It was true, he was a dead man if he stayed on Nal Hutta for any longer. He had to get off the planet sooner rather than later. The Lexton was quick enough to out run the Hutts ships and the human was offering him a ride.

Thinking over what Dulgan was saying. It was better for him to go along with him in his ship. Though if he left his ship on Nal Hutta it would certainly get confiscated by Taklur. That was just a risk he would have to take. With a sigh he looked at the man.

"I trust you, you seem like a trustworthy person. Get us off this planet and you'll earn my name get us caught and you can kiss your dear and fluffy lord goodbye"

While finishing the last of the statement he pulled his blaster out of the thigh holster. Powering it up and nodding to his friend. Knowing that this was going to tough with just one blaster. Peering around the corner to see how many mean were there. He say four men. Two looked like Duros and the other two resembled some species close to human or they very well could be.

"Looks like we've got Two Duros and two near humans. They could be humans don't know. Taklur really isnt to fond of the humans so, they may not be. Any ideas?

This was the time to get serious. The jokes were over and this life and death. Rolithir closed his eyes and started to calm his mind like his martial arts instructor taught him.

[Kuhblam]

"I trust you, you seem like a trustworthy person. Get us off this planet and you'll earn my name get us caught and you can kiss your dear and fluffy lord goodbye."

The man looked around the corner, peering at the on comers. How he had ever deduced they were Taklur, he'd never know. 75% of the population on this planet were packing some kind of heat even if it was just a pair of vibroknuckles.

"Looks like we've got Two Duros and two near humans. They could be humans don't know. Taklur really isnt to fond of the humans so, they may not be. Any ideas?

Dulgan smirked and pulled aside his jacket, revealing the hydrospanner on his side. He was sure his confidante must have seen his little exchange with Bardem earlier and the floating toothpick, so if he didn't identify this for what it really was then maybe Dulgan was overestimating his intelligence a tad bit too much. He had, after all, gotten involved with one of Taklur's primary bounties while being on his payroll. If the positions were reversed Dulgan would have turned the man over for some desperately needed money.

"I'm sure you know what this is,"

Dulgan said as he peeked around the corner himself, revealing just the tip of his nose and a corner of his face. There were indeed four man, and it was plain to see why his friend had pulled them out of the way. They were sporting the blazing claw symbol on their jackets and sleeves: pirates. Nonhuman pirates were amongst the most common of Taklur's agents; Bardem was a prime example of that. Beyond them, not four-hundred yards, lay the first space hangar where the Concord Blade was laying dormant.

Pulling away, he turned back around to speak again.

"I probably won't need to use it unless they have more friends. But whatever, enough talk. Just follow my lead. I still have a few cards up my sleeve."

With that, he cracked a grin, ruffled his jacket once more, and slid out of the alleyway confidently and casually. He surveyed his surrounds, looking for just the right person. His eyes settled on exactly what he was looking for: Herglic dockworkers, moseying their way on over towards the pirates as they moved to start their shift. They were literally going to pass right by them. And with that, Dulgan formulated a plan to remove this patrol from their route permanently.

Quietly, he reached out with the Force once more, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. His mind expanded and extended, touching the emotions of the lead Herglic, the largest of the three. When at last he was passing by the pirates, Dulgan sent a telepathic prod of extreme anger and the desire to fight, all directed at the pirates.

Needless to say, it worked. The lead Herglic exploded in anger, grabbed the first pirate and threw him like a ragdoll through a shop window which broke like a twig. The other two, confused, simply followed suite as the remaining pirates frantically fired off blaster shots and did something else which Dulgan failed to pay attention to: call in for backup which was not far off at all that would be coming from the direction of the landing bay hangars.

"C'mon, sunshine, move that delicate body of your's. I can taste freedom,"

Dulgan said with sarcastic pleasure as he walked with haste, ignoring the carnage that was to his right and now behind him. The hangar doors were wide open and for the taking, and nothing was going to stop them now.

[Res]

Seeing the confusion on his face Rol just smiled and waiting for Dulgan to make a move. The Firrerreo watched as the Human took out what looked like a hypospanner. Though with a closer examination it was a lightsaber. Rolithir had seen a couple of them during his time on Coruscant. It was common to see them walking around on the upper level. Rolithir really didn't try to keep a low profile on the capital planet. He knew if he wasn't drawing attention to himself he had nothing to worry about.

Watching Dulgan pick around the corner then back again. He knew that he man was plotting something foolish. Though he was willing to try anything to get off Nal Hutta at this point. Nodding to Dulgan in agreement to follow his lead. Stepping out of the alleyway he followed the Grey Jedi. Noticing the Herglic dock works suddenly attack the pirates. Quinior stopped and watched the event unfold. He was shocked that it actually worked but he knew they couldn't be held for long.

"Calling me sunshine because im golden, huh?"

Quinior said jovially at the remark. As the two entered the docking area where the ship was Rolithir entered first. Stopping at the door he paused. Oh fluffer nutters the smuggler though seeing a half a dozen guys standing around the ship. He looked over to his companion with a worried look on his face.

"I have a bad feeling about this"

[Kuhblam]

"Calling me sunshine because im golden, huh?"

The joker smirked as he continued on a brisk pace, still making a bee-line for the hangar doors.

This was almost too easy.

"I could call you twinkie instead if you like,"

Dulgan muttered sarcastically as they reached the slightly ajar hangar bay doors to the landing pad where the Concord Blade, his stolen light freighter, was parked neatly. As they entered, he turned sideways to speak with a cocky smell of bravado sticking to his stylish clothing about his droid and the story of his ship. His friend had moved slightly ahead of him before he could speak, however, and had stopped in his tracks. Dulgan didn't really have time to register any possible danger nor did he care until he identified six heavily mercenaries inside the hangar. What he could see, they had failed to gain entry to the ship and the shields appeared to be active; this meant Terren had the ship on lockdown like he had hoped. As long as the baddies didn't have a turbolaser to continuously pound away, which they didn't, his ship would be fine.

However, the leader of the thugs spotted the pair who had entered their space and barked something incoherent into his shoulder com link. At that instant, two teams of five men appeared from side doors or over the top of cargo crates with weapons readied and trained. Moreover, Dulgan counted three of them holding what looked to be portable missile launchers or grenade launchers or at at the very least big guns that looked like they shot explosive fireballs. Each of the henchmen before them were loaded to the teeth with ammunition as well; there was no shortage of ordnance in their ranks.

As expected, the only thing Dulgan could do was produce a frown and cross his arms, waving one or the other about to accompany his complaints.

"Well, that escalated quickly."

But then he changed the game up.

He closed his eyes, brought his hands close together, and drew upon the energies of the Force around and let it build up almost to the point of explosion. The tension started to cause his hands to shake, like a bubble about to burst from too much surface area. Finally, he took a step forward, planted his foot down, and let go of the energy in his hands. A massive bubble of brilliant blue kinetic energy nearly ten feet high erupted like the shape of the sun, volatile and radiant. It skyrocketed across the length of the hangar, outpacing the blaster shots coming back at it by a mile, and slammed through the concentration of men and cargo crates. The resulting effect was just about everything that had come in contact with the ball was sent flying; men became pancakes and crates created more pancakes. The wildly disoriented mercenaries immediately began firing sporadically as they came to their senses.

However, Dulgan was long gone, already sprinting back outside and had taken off running for the alleyways again while not bothering to wait for his companion. But he could see speeders flashing up the larger side streets towards the docks, no doubt Taklur's cronies. They'd be here any second now; there wasn't any time to take off running. His eyes flashed about for anything, an escape that could render safety. Finally, they centered on a manhole into the sewer system of the district.

Gross.

Quickly, his lightsaber flew from his belt to his gloved hand through the thin air of space between them. He had sworn not to use it; this past was behind him and caused nothing but trouble. However, desperate times called for desperate measures and this could do what he could not on his own. The brilliant icy blue blade passed right into seared through the thin durasteel circle, Dulgan carving into the center of the manhole cover and cutting through it like tissue paper. As large bits of metal fell downwards, so too did he into the darkness and grime with a splash.

[Res]

Letting the twinkie remark fly by since they had other pressing matters to attend to. Looking back at his friend he was wondering if he had any plans to get them it of this situation. Just then he caught a glimpse of the thug say something in the collar of his shirt. Watching as nearly another dozen men appeared out of nowhere. Well that bad feeling was right Rol thought as he slowly back up standing next to Dulgan.

"Ya think"

Rolithir said to the inquiry things escalating quickly. Standing in a defensive posture waiting for whatever the human was going to do. Surely with the fire power Taklurs men was wielding there was no way that they could get away softly. Then he saw the Grey Jedi fold his arms and close his eye. He relaxed when he saw the man hands shaking. The Firrerreo wasn't sure what was going on but it couldn't be good. As whatever came out of the man shot out Rolithir hit the deck. Getting he saw the carnage that it had left and Dulgan running for the door.

Running to the door narrowly getting out of the way from the storm of blaster fire from the thugs. Looking around he saw the dark skinned man near a man hole. I just had these boots cleaned The smuggler though as he caught up to Dulgan as he jumped into the sewer. Following him down into it making a splash.

"Since we've gotten this deep in this together you should know my name, it's Rolithir. So what's your next genius idea?

He smuggler said looking around in the three directions they could go.

[Kuhblam]

Dulgan hit the muddy water with a heavy splash, the mire of garbage cascading upwards in a small upheaval. He had used the Force to slow his descent to nearly the speed of a floating feather, but unfortunately Shate nor Allen had never taught him the secrets of levitation and hovering. As he landed, he took his momentum forward to avoid hitting his head and rolled, coming up on his feet with all the grace of a gundark.

Disgusted with the turn of events that had just unfolded, he took his sleeve and wiped whatever gunk had applied itself to his sunglasses. Equally disgustingly, his sleeve only wiped more grime across his glasses. As he looked down, he rolled his eyes and made sense of why he felt so gross. As obvious as it was, he'd failed to pay attention to the fact that he was utterly soaked from head to toe.

"Ick. Never diving head first into a sewer again. Ever."

He shook his hands and arms, trying to rid himself of the putrid grossness that now stuck to his body like glue. His shoes, pants, shirt, and most importantly his lovely jacket were now completely and utterly ruined. Furthermore, he anticipated that he was not going to be able to do laundry any time soon. This was turning out to be one pretty crappy day for Dulgan Pryde.

Just then, his senses kicked in and he spun around in a combat stance with his best foot forward as a figure tumbled down behind him into the sewer.

Splash!

More water came up and crashed into Dulgan like a title wave and soaked him even further. With a stoic face full of all the enthusiasm and excitement typical of a newly christened Padawan, Dulgan stood straight up from his combat stance. It was his bar friend, again, and he had followed him down here no doubt to avoid the danger. As the man got his bearings, Dulgan could tell he was obviously rattled about dirtying his boots.

As if your frakkin' boots are soaked head to toe,

Dulgan muttered to himself in his mind as he checked the contents of his utility belt. He still had his lightsaber, thank the Force, as well as the other contents in various pouches. Of course, everything was wet and probably not working at this point so all he had was his lightsaber for the moment; that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he wouldn't mind his blaster pistol back as well as access to the ship armory if he was going to be stuck here.

And oh yeah, a shower. Definitely a shower.

"Since we've gotten this deep in this together you should know my name, it's Rolithir. So what's your next genius idea?"

Rolithir. What a stupid name.

Dulgan looked about at the intersection they had fallen into. Three adjoining paths, all leading to probably nowhere helpful in the near future. This meant he was probably stuck with Little Ms. Delicate for the mean time. At least the man was handy with a blaster.

"Well, Rolithir, the first phase consists of me getting out of this death pit. Second phase and my current utmost priority is getting a shower,"

Dulgan said. His words were absolutely teeming with annoyed sarcasm from head to toe. Fully expecting his companion to follow along behind or next to him, Dulgan began trudging off into the tunnel directly in front of him. Best that if he was going anywhere he start now; those thugs would no doubt discover where they'd disappeared to and pursue them deep into the sewer system.

"Ya know, Taklur isn't just gonna let you mosey right off this planet and he certainly isn't going to let me get away. I'm his icing on the cake."