Through A Needle's Eye

[Cirith An'Gol]

Rogarr did not want to come back to Mos Eisley. Unfortunately someone was hiring mercenaries, and mercenary he was.
The first time Rogarr had flown here, he'd been slapped by a waitress in a canitina called the Rusty Krayyt, for simply trying to get her attention to ask about local sports. It had been a complete misunderstanding. However, misunderstanding or no, it had gotten him thrown out of the cantina, thereby forcing him to seek other....more unscrupulous scources of information. That hadn't gone well either, there hadn't been a fight but, it was loud enough to get what passed as the local security's attention.
Rogarr had explained everything ofcourse, he wasn't going to lie to what ran as the law, even if they were crooked.

In the end it'd cost him a fair amount in bribes and no employment, seeing his history thus far, he'd decided to look somewhere else. Ofcourse by the time he'd gotten back to his fighter, there'd been a bulliten for him about someone needing some mercenaries but, the meeting time was a week away.
So he'd looked around Mos Eisley, trying to find something to do that would make him some money, just enough to get by for the week. He'd found a simple transport job thanks to some of the mechanics that he'd talked to. He was to fly supplies to a warehouse in another city, he'd forgotten the name, and come back for more. While traveling from place to place, he'd found the thrill of Beggars Canyon. He'd flown over the first time, mapping it out in his head. Then on his way back to mos Eisley, flown through the canyon with it's twists and sharp turns and rolling rock formations and he'd loved every second of it. Then after he was paid, he laid low in a small town and talked with the natives the rest of the time.

That had been a week ago and the meeting time was supposed to be this week.

So, here Rogarr was, flying back to Mos Eisley to meet a contact of his at the Rusty Krayyt. Silently hoping that the manager wouldn't recognize him with all the sand on his clothes due to a sudden sand storm, he set down in a hangar, paid the Czerka employee the rediculous sum of fifty credits for a permit, fuel, and some basic security and headed over to the Rusty Krayyt.
The sandstorm had died down by the time he'd arrived at the Krayyt. He walked into the cantina trying to shake the sand out his clothes to the best of his ability. It didn't help much, despite his shaking like a dog and making the people around him, and those farther back who noticed the commotion, laugh.

Rogarr tried to laugh with them but gave up quickly, it really wasn't all that funny. It was easy to find a table fortunately, and so ordered a drink and a hot meal when the waitress finally came. This really isn't my day Rogarr thought as his food and his contact, a small boy with dirty clothes and rose blonde hair, arrived a couple minutes later. "So, what have you got for me? Rogarr said simply playing with the food with a spoon. Seeing the boy eye the food, Rogarr pushed the plate toward him and then asked for another spoon to a passing waitress.

"It's a hudd, he wanz to hire mercz, he'z out by da doon zea I tink, you'll zee it, the hudd lives in a palaz" the boy said hurriedly with his mouth full of food "tanks for dis by the way, I haven't eaden all day".
"No problem kid, but don't speak with your mouth full, it's bad manners" Rogarr said embarassed for the kid "Anything else?".
The Amaran watched annoyedly as the kid ignored him and continued shoveling in food. After a few seconds of watching Rogarr took the plate away and watched as the kids spoon dinged off the table "I said...Anything ...else?" Rogarr said slowly to tell the kid he meant buissness this time. The kid simply nodded, embarassed and said "Yeah, uh..sorry. This hutt wanted someone to ship something or protect someone, it might've been both. I can't remember, my stomach hurts too much".

I don't believe this, I'm taking information from a kid who doesn't even know what the score is and he's still trying to shake me down Rogarr thought bitterly and then sighed Oh well, a job's a job.
Downing his drink and taking what few bites were left of his food he thanked the kid, flipped a waitress a couple credits, and headed off back towards his fighter.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

( So we're all going in after completing a mission and getting our pay, then we're going to get anoth. mission and it will be the Through a Needles Eye one, right? )

Hsi's small feet prduced very small indents in the boiling sand as the flat of the rubber shoes he wore pressed into them, propelling himself across the Tatooine floor. His steady march forward produced a great quantity of eyes on him. Partly because Hsi was unlike any other Jawa's on Tatooine. He walked with all of the confidence of the best Mando's, and with an air of control. Hsi Asmae, despite his size and the reputation of his race, was feared, and looked upon as an enigma.

The other and main reason that they stared, was because of the steady loud rumblings and clashes behind him as his massive quadropedal droid followed him, creating a contrast in footsteps; footsteps as round as the little Jawa's vertical, standing body. The durasteel plating, turrets, and heavy cannon made many fear, so those who did stare didn't do so for very long. The machine moved with a different kind of attitude. Ever watchful and vigilant of its caring and dedicated master. Its eye and many secret cams watched the surrounding area to make sure nobody was paying too close attention. The bad kind of attention. One that went beyond simple curiosity: Plotting.

Hsi was headed toward a Hutt palace. He had just collected on one of the most recent bounties, the heads of his which stored neatly in the Spider Fighter. Hsi didn't like carrying them, mostly because they were, in fact, larger than him when held alltogether, and he had a hard time holding them all.

He rounded a corner, the droid directly behind, to see a semi-small palace. The front doors were guarded by a pair of Twi'lek, who subsequently shook in their boots and gripped their weapons as Hsi approached the center of the gate, his droid right behind him. They stood still and silent, Hsi coming to a stop as well, a shock rifled in his hands. The droid came to a stop as well, the tip of the overhead cannon hovering directly above. The guards started moving, and the automatic turrets adjusted aim to suddenly point at them.

They stopped moving then, nervous and frightened.

Hsi smiled under his hood, speaking native Jawaese, "Send regards to the Hutt that both me and my droid are going in; the bounty has been collected. Pay me." It was such a fast speech and sentence that the one guard in the duo that knew the language stared and blinked.

"What?" he asked.

Now Hsi spoke fractured English, "Send for Hutt, me, Droid, inside. Bounty...Pay..."

"Right..." He said, "I'll go do that."

The other guard opted for it as well, but the first, obviously of higher rank shot him down, not wanting to be in the way of the Spider Fighter.

Hsi turned to the other as he waited, the first man slipping through the massive iron doors. Hsi and the guard just stared at each other for a while. A long while. It was an incredibly awkward few moments, especially since the guard could not move, and merely shuffled his feet and scratched his nose. Hsi stared and stood stone still. He blinked many times. Hsi blinked a few times.

"So...Where do you get a thing like that?" He asked, breaking the silence.

Hsi turned to his droid, and walked over, climbing up on top of its legs, and then onto the body, patting some of the seams and such, "AI tough." He said, referring to how hard it was to get a sufficient AI, "Rest easy. Made self. Tough, tough, tough, metal heavy. But fusion cut good. Make things stay. Goody, very goody. Guns easy. Made self. Very big. Very useful."

The Twi'lek seemed quite surprised that Hsi had made it himself. "Seems pretty effective."

"Kill all Hutt Scum could..." Hsi laughed, "Nothing left bury."

( LOL Sorry about the missing words and fragments. That's how he talks, not being very effective at Basic, and if he goes at normal speeds, his words jumble together. )

The doors budged open again, and the first guard came out. Rather, he moved his hand out and waved the second guard in. The second guard jumped into the gate. Hsi automatically figured it was a trap, diving for the hatch in his droid and jumping inside of it, closing the hatch up behind him and cramming himself into the things body, along with his piles of sales junk.

An intercom shouted out, "Hsi...Come on in. But leave your weapons and droid outside. You'll get your pay in full."

Hsi sighed. No trap, they just knew he had a volatile temper. And he was pissed. He spat off a string of twenty or so Jawa curses in four seconds, speaking so quickly the words were slurred and mixed. Then, kicked the hatch open, slamming it behind him. "Heads in droid." he said.

There was no reply. After a while, he opened the hatch, and started sifting through the inside, searching for a specific cubby. Finally he found one, and opened it up, pulling out a bag, and dragging it out of the Droids body. It got stuck halfway out of the hatch exit, and he had to tug heavily, the bag being almost bigger than the Jawa, and he dug his feet into the side of the droids body, pulling desperately, hanging off the edge.

It came free of the snag and came out, unfortunately throwing Hsi's weight off and his balance. He went flying down back first onto the desert sands, the bag landing just behind him. One of the contents of the bag fell loose...

A severed Rodian head rolled across the Tatooine deserts, one of several like heads. Not all were Rodian, though...Hsi scurried over, wiping his robe off of dirt and giving off another curse, his anger rising again. He grabbed the head and shoved it into his bag, then dragged the bag across the sands to the cracked open door.

Hsi Asmae went into the building. The front entrance was a hallway, which had a desk. A devironian sat there, pompously, "Place your weapons on the desk." He grumbled.

Hsi walked over to the desk, but couldn't reach up on top of it, so he had to toss his shock rifle up onto the desk. "You may proceed."

Hsi went around the desk, passing through some hidden detector. It rang. One of the two earlier guards appeared, "Do not make any sudden movements." The first ordered, and they began to pat him down, one guard patted a large metal object, "I found it!" He shouted, reaching into the robe and pulling it out. Hsi grabbed the handle of the weapon and didn't let go.

As it came into the light, it was revealed that Hsi's weapon was a customized rocket launcher. Smaller in design and size, but still effective enough. The man went wide eyed, and Hsi held on tight, "Keep." he insisted.

"We can't let-"

Hsi pushed the tip against his groin and raised another hand to turn off the safety, "Keep." he said, sounding innocent enough.

The man stood up straight and released it, "Yes, yes your clear. You may proceed further into the building.."

[Hawke]

((So I've made some edits. Hope this works for everyone.))

Gryff tapped his foot impatiently, knocking the heel of his left boot against the leg of the crude metal chair in which he sat. Clink, clink-clink, clink, clink-clink… The Amaran’s foot moved to his own internal rhythm, completely ignoring the music echoing down the hall from the Hutt’s audience chamber. The smuggler shifted uneasily, a sudden spasm of nerve clusters on either side of his neck causing him to shrug. Gryff attempted to mask the twitch out of reflex (despite the fact that there was only a pair of receptionistic droids in the room), making it look like he was merely stretching. A part of him wanted to just get up and leave, he should never have agreed to work for a Hutt in the first place. Compared to most Hutts the Amaran’s employer was small-time, but that didn’t mean the slug still wasn't dangerous, and that didn't mean Gryff loathed the creature any less. But loathe the Hutt as he may, Twitch (Gryff's gunslinger nickname) had been in serious need of credits, and the job had been easy. The cargo Gryff had transported for the Hutt had simply been a few crates of various beverages - all of them alcoholic, and all of them apparently brewed up special somewhere in the very palace in which the alien now sat. The Hutt had seemed a little too trusting, perhaps the reason he was still small-time, or perhaps a little test to see if Gryff would live up to his reputation: "One helluva pilot!" as one patron had put it.

A Twi’lek guard appeared from around the corner just then, and Gryff instinctively lowered his foot back down to the floor, giving him more control of his surroundings, should he need it. The guard however, didn’t give the smuggler a second look; there was obviously something on his mind. Gryff watched him cross the ‘waiting room’ – the small, stuffy chamber just beyond all the security checkpoints in which Gryff had been waiting for the majority of an hour – and continue down the corridor towards the main entrance of the palace.

A few minutes later, just as Gryff thought he heard the huge blocks of durasteel that served as his new employer’s front doors open once again, he finally gave into the heat and removed his pilot’s jacket and scarf, draping the former over the arm of his chair and tucking the latter into one of the many pockets of his trousers. As his hand brushed his now empty holsters, Gryff was reminded of the fact that his custom Westar 17s were now in the custody of the Hutt's goons. It agonized him to no end, causing his fingers to twitch, which was uncharacteristic even for the ex-Pit Fighter. Pit Gloves protected the wearer's arms from their own electric shocks and those of their opponent, the strongest protection being from the wrist down, meaning that it was the combination of stress and adrenaline that had him all jumpy. Gryff willed himself to cool it, to keep it together long enough to get paid. Yeah right! he thought, I know the real reason they stuck me in here. This heat's gonna broil me nice and slow, and then these barbarians are gonna eat me! Gryff stood up and shook himself vigorously, letting the sweat slip from his fur and evaporate into nothingness in the relentless heat of Tatooine.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Hsi turned around a corner, passing through a receptionist-esque room, the guard right behind him. "Uh, the Hutt is actuallybusy right this moment, you may have to wait for a few, here in this room. Just take a seat." The guard then turned and went over to the two receptionist droids, whispering to one, telling him to get the Hutt's translator to tell him that another guest has arrived. Perhaps that would spur him into seeing the first guest sooner.

Hsi hopped onto his seat, putting his bag of well concealed heads right next to him. Unfortunately, the top of the bag drooped, showing the tip of the Rodian's head. Hsi crossed his arms and said impatiently, his legs hanging over the tip of the chair, but not quite touching the floor. In his impatience, he swung his legs back and forth, somewhat resmblencing of a small child. He leaned back and sighed, getting a good view of the room.

He didn't focus much on the little, insignificant details. He merely shifted his eyes to things worthy of his attention, whichc did not include the two low cost droids. It did however, include the Shashay that sat a few seats to his left. An interesting creature. Hsi turned to it, studying it for a few moments, and then looking away after deciding that the Shashay was not too important.

[Cirith An'Gol]

Rogarr had arrived back at the hangar a few minutes ago, it didn't take long to walk from the Rusty Krayyt to the hangar, and was buisy doing preflight checks. Good, I've got a full tank of fuel, and Vera confirms some minor maintenance was done on the scanner and one of the manuevering jets. Detects no problems with any of the systems. Good, looks like we're ready for take off[/i] Rogarr pushed a button in the middle of the console and felt the engine turn over, making the fighter tremble slightly. Rogarr eased on the manuevering jets and took the fighter straight up into the air. When he was clear of the hangar roof he pulled the control stick to himself and brought the nose of the fighter up. Rogarr kicked the accelerator, and rocketed off towards the Hutts palace.

It only took a few minutes to cross through Mos Eisley's flight zone and head into Tatooine's vast dessert. Rogarr relaxed instantly, he'd always felt alive when flying than anything else. When he was streaking through the sky or in the blackness of space with only the stars and his AI Vera for company , Rogarr truly felt free. It was the only time he could truly say that he felt at home. Rogarr dipped the fighter down and leveled it out about ten feet above the sand, making the sand part in a wake behind him. The simple manuever sent a ripple of joy through Rogarr's spine. He took the fighter higher and spun it, making the wings kiss the bare inches of surface of the sand, before taking the fighter higher into the sky.

A few minutes later, Rogarr saw the Hutts palace come into view and circled the palace and then after a few minutes flew in the opposite direction, away from the palace, so he could come back and start his official landing approach. He really did love flying that much.
Rogarr put the fighter low enough to create a wake in the sand, though still a mile away before deccelerating and flipping a switch for the landing struts to decend, making them have a wake of their own. Finally landing the craft a few feet away from the entrance of the palace, Rogarr hopped out of the cockpit and began walking toward the huge double doors at a calm leisurely pace. A few minutes later the canopy of the fighter closed and Vera locked it down.

The two Twi'lek guards posted outside were coughing due to Rogarr's antics and glaring at him. "Oh, sorry about that guys. I was hoping to get an audience with your boss, I heard he's hiring mercs. My name is Rogarr Clawfere and I'm here to offer my services" Rogarr said bowing slightly.
"Wait here Clawfere and don't try anything funny" one of the guards said before dashing inside rather quickly. The other guard looked nervous for some reason and looked quickly to something and then to Rogarr. "What's the matter? I'm not that intimidating am I?" Rogarr said with a light laugh, but the guard simply gave him a look and pointed behind the Amaran.
"It's not you, it's that" the guard said dropping his hand quickly.
Rogarr looked behind him at a massive spider battle droid with a turret on it back. Droid were nothing knew to Rogarr, he'd been around them ever since he was small, but this droid was different. It's probably custom made Rogarr assumed quietly to himself and turning back to face the guard "Yeah, pretty cool droid huh? Looks like it's got alot of neat stuff. I wonder, who is the owner? Would you happen to know him?".
The Twi'lek guard looked at him like he was nuts before finally saying "Yeah, the owner is a tough ass Jawa and if you make any threatening movements it'll blast you to peices. So, don't move, for both our sakes will ya?"

Rogarr almost laughed, he knew that Jawa's collected and occassionally repaired droids and the like but, he doubted whether any Jawa could actually make a droid like the one that stood behind him. He decided it wasn't impossible after he thought about it for a moment and decided to find out for himself. A few minutes later the other Twi'lek guard appeared and waved Rogarr inside. Rogarr obeyed gladly, the planets twin suns were scorching his fur.
"So, who really is the owner of that spider droid out front?" Rogarr asked while him and the other guard walked down the cool, dark and smelly palace hall.
"That thing's owned by a tough ass Jawa Bounty Hunter" the guards said seriously. Okay, now I've heard everything. Riiight, a Jawa as a Bounty Hunter. What's next? One of the government officials is actually a Tusken Raider? Rogarr simply shook his head in disbelief. A moment or two later, the two of them stepped into waiting room where two other people sat. Ok, I take back my earlier thoughts. So there is a Jawa in here, and he is carrying a small...is that a rocket launcher?! Nah, it can't be! Rogarr thought as he stepped up to the receptionist droid while his escort headed back the way they'd come without a word.

"Hand over your weapons please and give me your name" The droid said smartly as it held it's hand out. Rogarr looked at his blaster pistol for a minute before finally handing it over.
The droid put it inside the desk and held it's hand out again "All your weapons please".
"My name is Rogarr Clawfere and that's all I have on me" Rogarr said calmly. The droid must have been built with a trust issue because it gestured to someone and rang a bell a second later. Two men appeared, one of the men was quite built and placed his hands on his hips as he said "Don't make this ugly, give us all your weapons or we search you and take them ourselves". "I did give the droid all my weapons. That blaster is all I've got besides my fighter out front! Why would I hide anything? I'm in need of a job for pete sake. Go ahead and search me if you need to, you won't find anything I swear" Rogarr said carefully as he held his hands out to his sides. Incredulous the men searched him. Their searching techniques tickled Rogarr, who began laughing hysterically. The men hadn't found anything but couldn't pass up an opportunity such as this and tickled Rogarr some more, who laughed all the harder. "H-hey! sstop that! That ticklezz...hahahaha!" Rogarr said as one of them, the bigger guard held him upside down while the other tickled Rogarr viciously. After a few minutes, the guards set him down and ruffled his head, making his fur look wild. "Funny little bloke" the bigger one said with a laugh. The droid though slapped it's hand on it's forehead "Incompetants" it monotoned. Rogarr smiled and walked into the waiting room to take a seat. Seeing the Shashay seated several chairs to the left of the Jawa, Rogarr took a seat that would allow him to talk to both fairly easily. In between them both. "Hello Shashay, nice to see one of you again. Been awhile since I saw someone of your race" Rogarr said as he passed the bird-like alien to get to his seat.

Nice to see a Shashay out and about the galaxy. I haven't seen one of them, since I flew with a stunt team when I was in my teens[/i] Rogarr thought as he sat down. Then turning to the Jawa "So, you must be the owner of that spider droid out front. Nice peice of hardware you got. How'd you come by it?" he said politely with a grin on his face.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

( LOL, Tickle. )

As the Amaran sat down next to him, Hsi looked up, and I mean up up, and squinted his eyes for a moment, scrutinizing him. He thought the entire tickling episode ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. So as of right now, he didn't think much of the creature that took its seat next to him and questioned him on how he acquired such a 'nice piece of hardware.' Hsi took ego insult to that. His eyes narrowed even deeper, but this time not in scrutinization.

"Eh?" He questioned in his light, high pitched Jawa voice, "Me come by? No, no, no." He gesticulated with his hands moving them back and forth, closing his eyes and shaking his head as well, "Me build. Long time. Yes, very nice hardware. Me built it from scrap. Me shined it. Me built it. Very nice." He said, sitting up straight to pretend to be taller, "It better than anything *you* have." He remarked, trying to re-establish his pride.

He reached down to the side of his seat, after tucking his rocket launcher very securely into his robe to make sure it wasn't obvious, afterall it was designed for concealment, and grabbed the tip of his bag, pullin' it over and around into view. "Bounty hunter." He pointed a stubby little finger at his chest, "Droid help get this." He opened the bag to show the heads, all well preserved, but to the enhanced smelling of an Amaran and a Jawa, the stench was enough even to make Hsi cringe a bit, so he closed it a moment later. "Big camp. They not knowed what hit 'em." He held one stubby hand palm out and took his other fist, punching into his hand. The movement threw him off balance, and he spent a few seconds swaying on the seat as it tilted over, desperately trying to get it to go back down.

It did, but the overbalanced caused it to tip the other direction, straight toward the Amaran, Hsi's head moving down and barely catching himself, but his concealed rocket slipping forward and the end falling out of his cloak, clattering on the ground. Hsi knew it was loaded, and winced, hoping it didn't fire. He sighed in relief in just a moment, pulling himself up onto his seat, and bending to reach for his fallen weapon.

It was then that he grew flustered, for he learned that he couldn't reach the weapon because of his height disadvantage. He began to mumble, something about cursing the gods, whoever they were.

[Hawke]

A Jawa. Hmm... not even a group of Jawas, just a Jawa. Gryff scrutinized the little man sitting several chairs over as one of the Twi'lek guards dropped him off just as they had done to the Shashay a little over an hour ago. Despite his caution, the smuggler cracked a smile when the Jawa started swinging his legs over the edge of his chair like a little child. Gryff hid the smile as he wiped sweat from the fine, smaller hairs of his neck and jawline. The smile wouldn't have lasted long anyways, for Gryff's keen eyes soon landed on the bag the Jawa had been carrying. The top of the bag, where it synched together, was drooping just enough for Gryff to spy the top of a Rodian's head. And from the way the bag was staying upright, it wasn't the only gruesome trophy in the Jawa's possession. The Amaran tasted the bitter spike of adrenaline but kept himself still. He had out of habit already checked to make sure that his exit was clear, but if he didn't stick around long enough to get his payment, he'd be drifting for sure. So as much as he didn't like it, he couldn't let some bounty hunter or assassin or whatever get in his way, especially one that was pint-sized.

A minute or two later, 'Twitch' was back to tapping his foot -unbelievably fast now, thanks to the adrenaline - and counting in his head how many steps it had taken him to go from the massive front doors of the palace to where he now sat. He had also now made up his mind to up his price, after all, Twitch had a reputation
and he couldn't afford to sit around waiting on the Hutt all day. Actually, he could, seeing as he didn't have any other jobs lined up, but admitting that to his new employer was not the smart thing to do.

And then, distracting him from his own thoughts, something really weird happened. An alien, the likes of which Gryff had never seen, was escorted into the room. There must have been some kind of mix-up, because apparently his fellow fox hadn't been searched for weapons yet. And then the weird thing happened. The guards, upon finding out how ticklish the little man was, turned him upside down and terrorized him for nearly a whole minute. Gryff watched in a combination of fascination and horror, his golden eyes the size of dinner plates. And then the Twi'leks set the fox down, ruffled his fur one last time, and disappeared down the corridor. The fellow merc said something about how it was nice to see a one of his own race as he passed by to take a seat of his own. Gryff didn't reply, now that social norms had been re-established, he was reflexively tallying up a threat level for the newcomer.

[Cirith An'Gol]

Rogarr looked at the Jawa incredulously, then shrugged. Maybe he did make the droid and maybe he didn't, it didn't really matter either way. The claim the Jawa made that it was nicer than anything he had though irked him.
"Careful you don't eat your words little one. How do you know that anyway? Do you know me? I don't know you. Let's respect each other as craftsman and leave it at that. Nice Rocket Launcher by the way" Rogarr said as he bent over and picked up the Rocket Launcher and stuffed it in the Jawa's hands. He looked over as the Shashay began tapping his foot rather fast. Today really isn't my day, even short stuff here wants to duke it out over a compliment. Sheesh! Does everyone have to have an attitude/ego problem or what?[/color] Rogarr tried to put his mind onto another subject but the days events just kept coming back. After fifteen minutes of silence Rogarr couldn't stand it anymore, and began pacing around the room with his hands behind his back. How I'd give anything to have a headpeice that could communicate to Vera onboard the ship! Then the lightbulb went on in his head, and he snapped his fingers in reflex. That's exactly what he'd do when he got paid from this job. With a plan set and something to look forward to, Rogarr sat back down, steepled his fingers behind his head and began to whistle a little tune.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Hsi listened to the words of the Amaran, and he would normally be absolutely fine with what the creature retorted, but there was a slight problem with a single part of his word choice...little.

"Little?" He echoed quietly, and again for a few more times as the creature began to pace, and it was only because he had given him his weapon back that Hsi did not throw a 'little' fit. As the man began to stiffen in an epiphany, some idea or other coming into his head Hsi finally came to his boiling point, and if he were a kettle the sound he'd be making would be a whistle, but instead it was just his shrill, squeaky little voice calling back,

"LITTLE? I'll show you whose little! I'll cut your damn legs off and make you walk around on stubs for the rest of your forlorn life you stupid bird spit(Substitue rhyming word here)!" He cursed, fluently and speedily. So speedily in fact, that his words were garbled and had more to the effect of; "Li'l? I shoo whosittle! I-cuture damegsiffnd makou 'roundon stubbor huhrest of your forelife!" He twitched his head, and was about to do more than just yell when the door slid open and a man walked in, a cigarrette in one hand and heavy armor all around him. He put the smoke out on the floor with a single, strong flicked that sent the lit end colliding with the ground, issuing ashes and a small light.

He held a verpine shatter gun in his free hand and waved them over, "Sebda the Hutt is now accepting someone, Flash, if you would, we're ready for you first."

[Cirith An'Gol]

Rogarr stopped whistling as the Jawa flew into what might have been a rage. The Jawa spoke so fast it garbled his speech, making him virtually impossible to understand. He thought he might've discerned something about 'legs' in his flash sped words but he couldn't be sure. Then while the little cloaked alien was continuing to throw a fit a man in heavy armor entered the room and told the Shashay that the Hutt was ready to see him.

Rogarr simply shrugged and continued to swing his legs over the edge of the seat and whistle his tune. After the Jawa finished his rant Rogarr looked to him with a puzzled look on his furry face and asked "Hey man, are you ok? You don't have low blood sugar or something do you? B'cause I don't have any food on me".

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Hawk has not posted. What do we do?

[Cirith An'Gol]

I don't think he's gonna be on here alot anymore. I think he's been thinking about leaving actually, so we just move on without him I suppose. I hate to do that but, that's the way it is unfortunately.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

So, do you want to go into the Hutt's place first or shall I? Makes no difference to me.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

"Well take Hsi Asmae next!" A voice came out from the door to the audience chamber. With one last glare, Hsi gathered up his things, equipped himself well, made sure everything was holstered, locked, and strapped tight, and grabbed his bag of heads, dragging it along.

The audience chamber was large and smelly, opening up to the left, right, and forward in a semi-circular pattern. The Hutt lay straight ahead, on a cushioned platform with a large pipe of some sort of benign gas or intoxicant. How cliche. Twi'lek slaves lay all around him, but did not interfere, knowing of the upcoming meeting. There were a diverse group of thugs to the left and right, as well as two gammorreans flanking either side of the large slug.

Hsi strode forth, unbothered by the whole of it, not intimidated in the least by the 'impressive' display. The room was kept clean, but still smelled of the various races, and Hsi rankled his nose non-theless, slightly impressed by the fact that this Slug was 'cleaner' than the rest. Or at least he held higher standards. Most Hutt's on Tatooine were less than complimentary house cleaners.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" The Hutt asked in his long, drawn out language, making stupid gesticulations with his short, stubby arms. Honestly, why did Hutt's even have arms if they could barely be used.

Despite his obvious contempt of Hutt's and their retinue, Hsi kept his cool, and said, in his own speedy language, which a droid interpreter was thankfully there to repeat, "Certainly oh round one, since you did not specify whether you wanted them dead or alive, brought back or not, I came to a middle grounds. I'm sure you'll be satisfied with the headcount."

After a short interpretation, Hsi crossed his arms and kicked the bag over in front of him, knocking it down and spilling out a Rodian head. This drew a long, drawn out laugh from the large Hutt, and he was quick to forget the insult in Hsi's speech; something Hsi had been counting on...Hutt's were predictable if you knew their motives.

"I like the way you think, tiny one." The Hutt replied, laughing a little bit more, and Hsi narrowed his eyes dangerously but did little more other than entertain thoughts of Hutt bits all over the ground as his rock collided with the mass of fat that was his employer...Hsi had to wonder if the rocket would simply be absorbed, though, "Here's is our agreed upon credit number. 1000 for every head, nine heads you brought to me, no?"

"Plus the money it cost for the freighter all the way to the planet!" Hsi scolded, "I expect to be well compensated?"

"They are dead, and that is all that matters, so you can have your credits."

Hsi smirked, maybe he'd be able to make a living on this sand-pit yet. "But!" The Hutt said, wiping the smirk right off his face, "You must collect one more bounty, for me." He replied.

Hsi's eyes went wide at the ridiculous proclamation, where did he get off demanding that Hsi work for him? He was just about to protest when the Hutt rose one stubby finger up and said, "Consider it payment of my not killing you on the spot or sending my thugs to your warehouse to ruin you. I still have use for you, and so your threats and your insults go un-reprimanded. Do not make the mistake again, or you will come back from this bounty to look upon the fires of your machine shop."

The enraged Hsi stood there for a long while, running his finger lithely up and down the cool metal surface of his rocket, fuming. Unfortunately, he was powerless, and after simmering down, he said, "What would you have me do, than?"

"The details are not needed now. I am putting a crew together as we speak, and searching for a ship. Needless to say, you will be a part of that crew, whether you wish it or not, and you -will- perform this mission. I will send a runner to you when I have found formed together enough hunters and found a ship. Leave my palace now, but remain on Tattooine, and take this with you..."

A devaronian servant walked up and handed a small black device with a beeping red core. Hsi scowled and took it.

"It will track your movements that my servants will be able to fetch you when we need to. Now GET OUT!" The Hutt grumbled.

This was quite unexpected, grumbling the whole way out, Hsi stuffed the device in a pocket and stormed out, stomping out of the audience chamber and through the lobby, "Careful." Hsi told Rogarr, slowly and in basic, "The dung heap is in a special kind of mood today."

[Cirith An'Gol]

Rogarr was half way asleep when the double doors screeched and groaned open. He watched the Jawa stomp out in a huff, obviously unhappier now than he had been already.
Rogarr's ear twitched upwards in suprise when the Jawa told him to be careful. Rogarr simply nodded his fox-like head before looking towards the doors, and seeing the man in heavy armor and a wicked looking gun motioning for him to get inside. "Hey you! Fox! Get your rear in gear! Sebda the Hutt doesn't like to be kept waiting" the man said, a little annoyed at the delay.

Rogarr simply nodded and slid from the chair "Thanks for the warning...Hsi was it? See ya around maybe" he said as he walked toward the doors calmly. This wasn't his first encounter with a Hutt, he knew they were as slimy on the inside as they were on the outside. The Jawa's warning came to his mind again Careful, the dung heap is in a special kind of mood today he walked through the doors and a few minutes later they slammed closed behind him, the sound echoing through the room, making Rogarr cringe lightly. "Nice gun ya got there, what is it?" Rogarr asked looking to his heavily armored escort as he was walked towards the Hutt.

"This baby is a Verpine Shatter Gun, she's my favorite. Don't get cute or I'll let her speak for herself" the guard said with a hint of pride that quickly went to embarassed annoyance.
"Nice peice of hardware ya got, well time to scoot I guess, later" Rogarr said waving to the guard politely and turning to gaze at Sebda the Hutt sitting, what had to be regally for a Hutt, on his throne. "Your highness, thank you for seeing me on such short notice. My name is Rogarr Clawfere. What can I do for you?" the Amaran said politely and noticing that the room was kept relatively clean. The only noticeable smell was the musky scent of various races that kept to the room for security purposes.

He noticed the big Gammoreans at either side of the massive Hutt but, didn't pay them any mind. He'd grown up on a space station so, he'd seen plenty of the galaxy's species. The Hutt regarded him like an insect in need of squishing but, made no move to carry out his idea.
"You are going to help track down a bounty for me. I am putting a crew together as we speak, and searching for a ship. Needless to say, you will be a part of that crew, whether you wish it or not, and you will perform this mission. I will send a runner to you when I have formed together enough hunters and found a ship. Leave my palace now, but remain on Tattooine, and take this with you...It will track your movements that my servants will be able to fetch you when we need to. Now goh!" The Hutt rumbled tossing him a small device with a red core that beeped quietly. Rogarr caught it gracefully and pocketed the device in his vest pocket "Ofcourse I will your higness, but, could I ask who the bounty is on?" Rogarr said mildly curious.

The Hutt turned his yellow orbs and narrowed his eyes to bare slits before yelling "I SAID OUT FOX!! GET OUT! BEFORE I HAVE YOU DISINTIGRATED!!" the Gammoreans to either side stepped forward heavily hefting their serrated Axes. Rogarr bowed as he stepped back and turned toward the open doors, walking quickly in that direction. He had no doubt he could avoid those axes if need be but, he didn't want to get in a fight. The double doors slammed behind him heavily and Rogarr simply "harumphed" holding out his hand for his blaster. The droid slapped his blaster into his hand and he continued down the hallway. Rogarr looked back briefly looking for the Shashay but, he didn't spot him. Figuring he'd already left Rogarr walked on, a few minutes later a Nikto guard came trotting up to make sure he didn't wander anywhere. "Boy, I don't envy you guys. How do you put up with that slug?" Rogarr said a bit peeved. The Nikto didn't reply though and simply nudged him forward, a silent warning to keep quiet and keep moving. He was relieved when he got back to his fighter and inside the cockpit.

"Welcome back Rogarr. How was your venture into the Palace" Vera's voice monotoned through the speakers. He really had to get some attitudes for the AI, her bored tone was going to drive him mad.
"It was fine" Rogarr said sharper than he meant. He ran his system checks and fired up the engine, blasting sand behind and raising a sand cloud as his manuevering thrusters gently lifted his fighter into the air. Once he was at thirty feet he turned the fighter around in the direction of Moss Eisley and roared off. He was considerably low for a flying vehicle but, paid no mind, there wasn't anything out here that he could hit anyway. He just let the humm of the craft, the feeling of flight and the thought of getting away from the Hutt's palace relax him.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Hsi stomped on over to his droid, the guards staring at him. He didn't even give them a second glance. Before leaving, Hsi started giving his droid an inspection, looking at each leg first to make sure all the nuts and bolts were in place and that all the parts were unscratched or scathed. If he saw even one blaster scorch on this thing, he was sure he'd just set it loose on the Hutt's mansion. After the leg inspection, he crawled on top of it with only a bit of a struggle, using every muscle in his arms to pull him up. He walked along the top ( keeping a watchful eye on the turret, so that it didn't swivel and try to knock him off, the playful thing. ) and checked the exterior.

After his tedious inspection, he sighed, seeing nothing out of order. So instead he began to pop the hatch and crawl in. Right about the time he did, the big gates opened up again, and a none-too-happy Rogarr Clawfere walked out. Hsi could tell by the ruffled look on his face that his experience hadn't gone too well. He shrugged, when a hutt wasn't happy, everybody suffered.

Unlocking the hatch and hopping into his Z3-N spider fighter, he smiled, the cool air-conditioning rushing over him. Yes, it was a wise decision indeed to install air-conditioning. However, occaissionally it would go on the fritz and turn the entire interior into a freeze-chamber. In fact, this seemed to be one of those occaisions, because the moment he slipped in his felt the hairs on his Jawa body go up, and the cold bit right through his robe, teasing his skin. "Eep!" He reacted, the cold being entirely unexpected.

He took his rocket out and put it down, then found a nice nook and, slightly miserable and grabbing a blanket, he said, "Alright, take us home."

It was a good thing he did plenty of preparation for this such circumstance, because he wouldn't be able to repair the unit until he arrived at his shop. And it sure was cold. He opened up a side cupboard, and found a few more blankets, wrapping himself in several layers of warm, warm quilts. "Ahhh..." He sighed, effectively becoming a little Jawa cocoon, and closing his eyes, letting the rythmic feel of the vibrations as the spider turned and began to walk, the ups and downs and great clanks. The only reason it didn't rock him all around and pretty much break every limb on his body was because he'd installed plenty of shocks in the thing to make it a smoother ride. He still recalled the long lasting bump on his rump from the very first field use.......Three hours of travel across the hot desert, and he hadn't taken into account the bumpiness of long riding periods. Oops.

[Cirith An'Gol]

Rogarr opened his eyes and sighed, Tatooine sprawled out around him. In certain lights and angles Tatooine can be quite beautiful Rogarr thought as he smiled and sent the fighter into a lazy barrol role. Deciding that he needed some time to unwind and calm himself, he veered offcourse and headed into the massive dessert known as Dune Sea. The Dune Sea was perfect for what Rogarr had in mind, nothing around besides Sand People, Bantha's and Womp Rats, plus the occassional Krayt Dragon but, those were a rare sighting. He dipped down a couple feet throwing sand to either side like a boat running across the water, once he'd come to a open stretch of dessert. A few minutes later he pulled up on the stick and sent the fighter up and into the sky, spiraling like a golden arrow shot from a bow. He levelled out and flew upside down for a mile or so before flipping the fighter over with his manuevering jets.

He climbed higher and higher until he was above the topmost cloud layer. He levelled out and gazed at the golden planet beneath him and sighed Beautiful.
He stayed at this altitude for a few minutes, admiring the stars that were visible. This was why he'd chosen to build a fighter and make his way through the galaxy. He wanted to see what was out there. His eyes locked onto a incoming ship and he smiled, briefly thinking about playing with it but, he chose against it and simply made way for the freighter. He pulled away from the trajectory of the incoming traveller and noticed that someone was looking directly at him. He flipped the fight onto it's right wing, letting the pilot of the freighter get a good look at him before saluting the freighter pilot and shaking the fighter, the right wing coming up first and then dipping down to raise the left wing. The freighter pilot simply shook his head. Rogarr hadn't known the freighter pilot, he was just a stranger but, it was obvious the man was amused.

Rogarr laughed again and went into a gentle dive. He adjusted the angle of his dive to gain more speed, the nose of his fighter began to glow gently as he ate away the miles. The fighter came out of it's dive as it followed the commands Rogarr's hands made, skimming the surface of the sand and creating a wake as he passed over it. His AI was blessedly quiet as Rogarr played in the air and with the sand. Rogarr smiled and put the fighter into a gentle climb that brought him back to a suggested height and steered himself back towards Mos Eisley. He'd had his fun and he'd thoroughly enjoyed it. "Didja have fun Rogarr?" Vera, his AI, monotoned, crossing her arms and smirking.

"Yes Vera. I did. I needed that. Now, I can focus on the job at hand" Rogarr said with a toothy grin. He brought the fighter in and extended the landing gear as he nestled back into his original hangar. He checked his systems over again before shutting the space vehicle down and stretching back in his chair, his arms over his head. Not knowing that another ship had witnessed his aerial antics and that it's Captain hadn't appreciated the show in quite the same manner.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Hsi had fallen asleep in his nice and cozy cocoon he'd made for himself, sleeping sweetly like a little doll. He was just starting to dream of some sweet Juma juice on a tropical planet when...

His body went flying violently from side to side, bouncing off the walls like a tennis ball between two star players. The world shook, his view was flipped upside down and around and around. One minute he was staring at the ceiling, the next the floor. After a while it stopped, luckily, he incurred no injuries other than a minor bump on the head. He grumbled for a bit, then made a derogative noise, after which he ran a diagnostic, "What happened?" He asked.

The simple reply was a small Jawaese script that appear on a flat computer screen at the head of the droid interior. It said; Wake Up Alarm. Hsi grumbled even more, his own droid had shaken itself violently just to wake him up. After a few seconds he popped his head out the hatch, staring out to find that he was just on the outskirts of the city. "Hmm..." The Jawa murmured. He could see a big building down the end of a 'street.'

That building was his warehouse and shop, home of Jawa Custom Weapons and Armor. Happily, he stepped out and walked down the streets, the pounding of his heavy droid right behind him. When he arrived at the imposing three story high structure, he walked around to the side and pressed in a code. A heavy durasteel door suddenly came to life, the sound of its great bolt locks coming undone striking his ear with a satisfying familiarity.

Z3N-Spider fighter went inside the cargo door, no larger than a common garage door, and stopped a few yards in. After that, Hsi closed up the garage door, the heavy door coming to a grinding halt and locking up tight. "Oooooh." Hsi murmured, "Gotta put a few gallons of oil on the hinge."

( Yeah, sorry it took so long. Out of State. Thought I'd be able to get to a computer but couldn't. *Shrug* )

[Cirith An'Gol]

((OOC: Don't worry about it. I've had writer's block lately..so no problem XD))

Rogarr awoke from his gentle slumber and stretched before checking the chronometer. He'd only fallen asleep for ten minutes. He slapped a button on the right side of the cockpit and waited as the cockpit slid upwards and opened, throwing hot sand and air into the cool interrior. Rogarr stood and stretched again before slapping another button and jumping out and onto the stationary latter and climbing down, the cockpit sliding down and sealing behind him.

"Keep her secure Vera. I'll be back shortly" Rogarr said as he walked toward the hangar doors that led into Mos Eisley. He chuckled a little as Vera made a small distinctive beep, beep to assure him the security sytems were in place.
I wonder how long it'll be before we get our pilot and information for this Bounty we're supposed to be retrieving Rogarr thought as he strode through the "streets" of Mos Eisley trying to figure out what to do in the meantime.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Hsi immediately got to work on fixing his most prudent problem; air-conditioning. Always an important thing, especially on planets as hellishly hot as this one. Not to mention the fact that he hated sub-zero temperatures. ( Funny, cuz he's a part of the battle of Rhen Var. ) Hsi grabbed his hydro-spanner from off a work bench and hopped onto the back of his droid, climbing up and toward the back, where there were four slight lines in the shape of a rectangle. He worked the spanner along the sides of these lines, where several bolts were, and removed a thick plating of armor from Z-3N's hind-quarters.

And inside of it was a small air-conditioning unit. Hsi quickly leaned forward and checked it out, popping off the top. It was strange, the nob was on a normal level, but it was pumping out freezing amounts of air. Hsi looked underneath to see if something was wrong with the dial underneath. It matched the nob on the outside perfectly. Strange. After a quick look at the rest of it, he found nothing out of order. Hsi chucked his hydro spanner across the garage, hearing the clank on the floor further off.

He grumbled then, realizing that he now had to replace the panels...Yes, sometimes his short fits certainly got him nowhere.

( Sorry, just kinda killin' time for now. Not sure what to post. Cirith can come in anytime, just let me know when you gets bored. )