The evening and night have passed without incident. All is silent on the ship, save for the by now familiar sound of heavy breathing from the direction of Bane's bunk, a not altogether unexpected side effect of the mercenary's sleeping in space suit. In the early hours of the following morning, Bane has been awakened by Zirak.

"R5 is interested in locating a shop which sells droid equipment before we depart the planet," he murmurs softly, "And I also need to feed. Besides," he sends a dark glance at Sora's bunk, "It has been a while since he went off, and it would be better if only Sella was around when he did..."

Bane listens groggily to Zirak's words, and is silent for a few moments afterwards. Then Zirak's words seem to sink in, and he shrugs.

"No arguments there," he shrugs, glancing at Sora as he rises with a yawn, "Though I doubt we will find a suitable droid shop in these parts. Our best bet would be to find an Industrial Automaton supplier in the upper levels, now that we have a functional ID signature."

"Fine, just food then, for now."

Zirak, Bane and R5 have exited the ship, making their way out of the hangar and into the streets once more. Bane has taken the lead, as usual, directing them away from the markets, shops and stalls, and into a less brightly lit section of the city. After a few minutes they have reached a turbolift.

"This is an entrance to the Undercity," Bane explains as they enter the lift, "A pit of refuse and low life's. You've got to find some sort of 'food' down here."

Zirak seems quite pleased at Bane's resourcefulness.

The turbolift doors open a few moments later to reveal an almost pitch black alleyway extending before them. Graffitti, rubbish and the stench of stale sweat, vomit and excrement down here make the hangar in which they parked smell like a lakeside estate on Naboo, although, of the trio, only Zirak is unfortunate to actually be able to smell these mingled stenches. The alleyways are deserted for obvious reasons, and no beggars venture to these depths.

They have not gone more than a dozen meters before the turbolift door opens once again, and turning, they have found themselves facing a sinewy, tentacled quarren, armed with a blaster rifle.

"Bane Malar," he says in thickly accented Basic, "I thought I recognised you. The Hutts have placed a hefty bounty on your head, after you so foolishly set up Vungo's spice shipment last month. Fifty thousand credits. You are a fool to travel down here with only your friend."

"Fifty thousand?" Zirak echoes, mildly impressed.

"And you are?" Bane asks, blankly, ignoring Zirak.

"Who I am makes no difference," the quarren says, "But the Hutts want you dead. They don't want Xizor finding out about anything. So, this is the end of the line for you."

OOC: Zirak Derasir rolled 25 using 1d20+6. Initiative.
Bane Malar rolled 13 using 1d20+3. Initiative.
R5-D3 rolled 15 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Vessyk rolled 4 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:35, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

The gloom of the alleyway in which they stand conceals the darkness that distorts the shadows about Zirak as he stretches out a hand toward the quarren.

OOC: Zirak Derasir used Drain Life on Vessyk.

Not being armed with a weapon, R5 surreptitiously trundles behind the remains of a partially demolished wall.

Bane quickly takes cover, crouching to launch a blast at the quarren, which narrrowly missed the bounty hunter's left shoulder.

OOC: Bane Malar dealt 19 points of vitality damage to Vessyk.

As the dark tendrils have sunk into his chest, the quarren has gasped and fallen back a pace. He does not know what has happened to him, but seems to suspect Bane of possessing some artifact or device, as he has quickly raised his blaster and fired two deadly blasts which have forced Bane to dive for the wall behind which R5 has taken cover.

OOC: Vessyk dealt 28 points of vitality damage to Bane Malar.

Zirak has showed no inclination to dodge out of the way of the quarren's blasts. He has drawn his lightsaber, charged forward, and swung. The quarren's eyes have widened at the sight of the blade, as he correctly identifies the source of the darkness. He has narrowly ducked beneath the fan of red light directed at his head.

OOC: Zirak Derasir dealt 19 points of vitality damage to Vessyk.

The quarren has fired two blasts at Zirak. The first barely grazes Zirak's side, but the second shot strikes him squarely in the left shoulder, tearing through his armor and into his flesh beneath.

OOC: Vessyk dealt 19 points of vitality damage to Zirak Derasir.
Vessyk dealt 12 points of wound damage to Zirak Derasir.

A hasty blast from Bane has issued from somewhere half concealed by the wall, and has not come close to the dueling pair.

Zirak has given a snarl as he staggers forward, taking hold of the quarren's tunic. Dark energy has once more formed in the air about him, and raced through his arm and into the quarren. He has taken a step back, panting but revived as the wound in his shoulder swiftly heals over.

OOC: Zirak Derasir has healed 12 wound points.
Zirak Derasir has healed 13 vitality points.

Vessyk's tentacled face has paled as he realises that in Zirak he is dealing with a much more deadly being than the typical mercenary. He staggers backward, gasping for breath and clutching the wall. His eyes widen as Zirak strides forward, raising his lightsaber to decapitate the unfortunate quarren.

"Wait!" he has gasped in alarm as the lightsaber descends, "Bane! Please! I can pay you!"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:25, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

The lightsaber pauses an inch from his neck.

"How much?" Zirak hisses softly.

The quarren swallows quickly, breathing hard.

"Two thousand credits," he offers, "It's all I have in my account. Please."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"A pity. For five thousand I might have spared you," Zirak says, making to swing.

OOC: Zirak Derasir rolled 10 using 1d20+2. Bluff.

"You know, now that I think of it," the quarren says hastily, "I recall that three thousand credit bounty did clear the other day..."

OOC: Vessyk rolled 8 using 1d20+1. Sense Motive.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:31, Fri 15 Dec 2017.