Post by projectsunfire on Aug 29, 2007 21:16:55 GMT -5
Ku Gonxa's little swoop darted across the dune sea. Its steering veins pointed toward some rocky outcroppings along the southern ridge of Beggars Canyon. He had a small safe house that was stashed back in the back end of a cave. He had caches of weapons and other trap he had stolen over the years. A tiny little treasure trove that Ku was particularly proud of.
He long nose flopped in the wind, generated by his forward motion. Large particulates of sand tapped occasionally against his dark goggles. The light that shone through them would seem subtle to most species that would wear them. The Kubaz never managed to evolve a natural defense against the sunlight of their homeworld.
Ku Gonxa's cloak waved like a flag as his speeder tore across the dunes. Before long he had eased back on the throttle so he could take the turns of the dune sea alot easier. Large outcroppings of windworn rock seemed to pass him by as his speeder wound its way through the smaller less travelled areas of the canyon. When he was within range of his weapons cache he pulled a small call box out of his pocket and pressed the red button on it, which lit up. Ahead of him the entrance to his safehouse openned. The speeder eased its way into the garage area, stark and empty save for a few fuel cells he'd stashed there.
After powering down his speeder he went about erecting the safehouses defenses. Camera's at the entrance. Motion censors at 30 meters away from the main cell. A large stash of sonic mines, and a burried anti personel turret, all came to life as he manipulated the console in the garage. When Ku Gonxa had managed some semblence of security he took off his cloak and hung it on a peg near the entrance to a spartan lounge where he flopped down on a large couch. He yanked his trunk like nose in frustration, wondering what the best course of action would be. He could kill the Bounty hunter chaseing him. That would end it quick. Assuming he could even manage it. He could trap him. Perhaps he was worth something on the black market. The Kubaz made a funny chortling sound through his nose, amused at his own thoughts.
He could run. He snorted at the thought. Mandalorians were doggingly difficult to shake, or disuade from their objectives. At least until they were dead.
He would have to face the Mandalorian eventually. He would need to prepare.
Without another thought he stood up and meandered over to his weapons rack, where he rummedged through a selection of blasters, grenades, ammo packs, and a rather nice sporting rifle.
Ku Gonxa hefted the rifle and inspected it for wear and tear. Of course the desert was dryer than a bone, and just about anything burried here would last millenia. He laid it on the couch along with several ammo packs and two of his favored model of blaster. After looking over his munitions he stole away to the refresher for a wash up. He'd be ready for this sneaky Mandalorian.
He long nose flopped in the wind, generated by his forward motion. Large particulates of sand tapped occasionally against his dark goggles. The light that shone through them would seem subtle to most species that would wear them. The Kubaz never managed to evolve a natural defense against the sunlight of their homeworld.
Ku Gonxa's cloak waved like a flag as his speeder tore across the dunes. Before long he had eased back on the throttle so he could take the turns of the dune sea alot easier. Large outcroppings of windworn rock seemed to pass him by as his speeder wound its way through the smaller less travelled areas of the canyon. When he was within range of his weapons cache he pulled a small call box out of his pocket and pressed the red button on it, which lit up. Ahead of him the entrance to his safehouse openned. The speeder eased its way into the garage area, stark and empty save for a few fuel cells he'd stashed there.
After powering down his speeder he went about erecting the safehouses defenses. Camera's at the entrance. Motion censors at 30 meters away from the main cell. A large stash of sonic mines, and a burried anti personel turret, all came to life as he manipulated the console in the garage. When Ku Gonxa had managed some semblence of security he took off his cloak and hung it on a peg near the entrance to a spartan lounge where he flopped down on a large couch. He yanked his trunk like nose in frustration, wondering what the best course of action would be. He could kill the Bounty hunter chaseing him. That would end it quick. Assuming he could even manage it. He could trap him. Perhaps he was worth something on the black market. The Kubaz made a funny chortling sound through his nose, amused at his own thoughts.
He could run. He snorted at the thought. Mandalorians were doggingly difficult to shake, or disuade from their objectives. At least until they were dead.
He would have to face the Mandalorian eventually. He would need to prepare.
Without another thought he stood up and meandered over to his weapons rack, where he rummedged through a selection of blasters, grenades, ammo packs, and a rather nice sporting rifle.
Ku Gonxa hefted the rifle and inspected it for wear and tear. Of course the desert was dryer than a bone, and just about anything burried here would last millenia. He laid it on the couch along with several ammo packs and two of his favored model of blaster. After looking over his munitions he stole away to the refresher for a wash up. He'd be ready for this sneaky Mandalorian.