At one point in time Luprora stood as a haven to the immigrated Lupr’or. The haven did not last as worsening climates reduced the population down to a single settlement. All that remains is the corpse of a civilization, constructed from a combination of wood and metal that barely resemble buildings. They function more as a protective shell and a solid frame for those that remain, hoped to be far outside the reach of the native threats.

The rising tide of the expansive seas lap at the outcroppings of obsidian rock that makes up what remains of the land. Mountainous croppings that shrink with the coming waters. Passageways and staircases are carved into the stone itself, left to assist those travelling in low tide. The scattered relics of technology lies abandoned throughout the expanse as a testament to the Lupr'or's original immigration, left unused and at the mercy of erosion and time.

The tide stands as the greatest threat to life on Luprora. Starting at its lowest point at dawn, the tide rises throughout the day and brings with it the native Tsw’ells. These tentacled monstrosities sleep in the earliest hours of the morning and reside in the ocean’s waters. It is ill-advised to travel along the shoreline, as Tsw’ells have been known to drag unsuspecting individuals to their deaths beneath the waves. These massive creatures aren't the lone threat to those who trespass upon the surface. The R’ora live among the shallow outcroppings across the planet. Extremely territorial, this species is sentient enough to wield primitive polearms and rely on the presence of Tsw’ells for protection.

Luprora the haven is a promise lost to the sea, with only the battle for survival left behind.

I can't believe they saw me. The blue haired vagabond thought to himself as he drunkenly stumbled down the ramp of Lady Luck. How could you do this to me? His churning thoughts turned to the flask in his hand before he tossed it to the side. 

"All we had to do was pick-up the stolen weapons and deliver them to Kalan, Deeva," the burly Corellian hound turned her head and panted, clearly confused by her master's words. "I know, I know!" he shouted. "How was I supposed to know the ship was from Odan-Urr?!" Deeva barked, he should've known.

He growled as he patted himself down, his weapons were in place. His blaster, given to him upon initiation into Black Sun and his trusty Monlitzer were right where they were supposed to be. Oh, and his vibro-dagger was also there, strapped to his ankle. He couldn't forget about that. 

A grimace crept across his face as his violet eyes danced around, mapping the terrain of Luprora with an inebriated focus. Waves crashed against rock and the sun was in a position that made it dawn on the planet. This water looks perilous, he thought as it quickly reached the ankles of his boots and began to slowly rise up the landing gear of his ship. Treacherous, he continued as he squinted his eyes to focus on a strange tentacle slicing through the water. Deeva began to growl but his attention was quickly taken away as another ship descended from the atmosphere. "Gah, looks like we have even more company, that's fine, it'll be a party!" he sarcastically shouted to the sky. 

Fairly close to his own ship, the visitors touched down near it, the hull was painted with the symbol of the Jedi clan and was no doubt carrying someone he'd rather not see. As the ramp lowered, he fully expected to see a lightsaber wielding servant of justice, instead he saw an unfamiliar man with a large hat, a rather long vibro-weapon, and an even bigger attitude. 

"You there!" The man shouted, pointing his finger as he stomped down the ramp. "You've got something that belongs to us!" 

Zeek, with the most innocent face he could muster merely pointed to himself and looked around befuddled. 

"You've got the wrong guy, Jedi!" Zeek shouted back. "I'm on a - fishing trip!" 

"I'm no Jedi," the mystery man replied "and the only thing you're fishing for is trouble!"

"Is that so?" Zeek chuckled, crossing his arms in order to covertly slide his hand to the grip of his Black Sun blaster that rested in a shoulder holster. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, friend."

"What, now were friends?" Zeek smiled as he quickly drew his weapon and fired both barrels from the hip. Fortunately for Silvon, he himself was wily enough to know what was happening as he made himself a moving target, a target that the two purple bolts screamed past but didn't hit.

"I never miss!" Zeek roared, his eyes a little too wobbly for accuracy. 

Jon would sway to the right and then to the left as a volley of failed attempts crashed into the rocks, the ground, and rising waters. He burned with the focus that Zeek was currently lacking as he quickly closed the gap and spun, digging the tip of his vibro weapon into the silt and flicked it upward into those beautifully unique eyes of the Scoundrel. 

Zeek stumbled back, blindly firing off a random series of shots that caused Deeva to buck away in fear for her life. His eyes burned but his vision came back just in time to step over Jon's attempt to chop him down. 

"Whoa," Zeek murmured, as he stomped his foot back down and slithered his balled fist upward. A satisfying thud met his ears and his knuckles ached as Jon's head reeled back. Bacch'nal, it was almost as deceptive as the practitioner.

Jon clutched his bleeding nose in aggravation, stumbling back and away from the thief. He’d spent so long matching wits with Jedi and Sith, he’s started to forget what a good old fashioned fist fight could be like.

He grinned through the blood, locking the two halves of Kanshou and Bakuya together at the hilt.

Guess its time for a refresher course, eh?

“For the record,” he said, his voice muffled by the blood clogging his nose. “I did try to be civil about this.”

Zeek blinked at the man, before raising his blaster pistol to fire again.

Jon looked the thief straight in the eye, and screamed at the top of his lungs, charging at his opponent while swinging his blade-staff around like a wild cudgel.

Zeek was so startled by the insane display that he recoiled backwards, his first shot going wild. Jon smirked, and as soon as he was within five feet of his opponent, triggered the repulsor in his vambrace, knocking Zeek to his feet.

Jon moved to bring Kanshou down on the thief’s blaster hand, disarming his foe in more ways than one without actually killing the man, when a slobbering, growling mass slammed into his side. The correllian hound tackled Jon to the ground, knocking his weapon from his hand and sending them both tumbling across the ground.

On reflex, Jon triggered his shield-generator, keeping the beast’s jaws from wrapping themselves around his throat. What it did not do, however, was dislodge several hundred pounds of muscle and teeth from on top of him, and the monster kept him pinned to the ground.

“Nice one Deeva,” Zeek panted, pulling himself to his feet and recovering his pistol.

“Call of your mutt,” Jon growled from underneath the hound.

“Not very nice,” Zeek muttered. “Why don’t you just stay there and play with Deeva for a while and I’ll--”

“You’ll what, fleshling?” a metallic voice echoed from behind him. Zeek turned, slowly, already dreading what he would see behind him. The magna guard towered over Zeek, looking down on him with a pair of glowing, unfeeling red eyes. “Master,” the droid intoned, tilting its head. “Shall I delete this one for you?*”

“Nah,” Jon said, having given up on trying to get out from under Deeva, and now just lying there while the hound chewed on the force-field around his throat, silently praying it held. “We need him alive big guy, to tell us where he stashed the weapons he lifted. Just do me a favor, and rough him up a little, would ya?”

“Now hang on here,” Zeek said quickly. “I’m sure we can--” but he was cut off by the electrical snap-crackle of an electro staff activating.

“Orders,” the droid said in a low, but dangerous tone. “Confirmed.”