When you are traversing the wild and untouched landscapes of the savannah, just remind yourself that you are never the apex predator. The vast and desolate area of sand, rocks, dead and ancient trees are all the same blood-orange color for a simple reason: to hide your worst nightmare from your sight, the Akul. A large, quadrupedal and orange furred mammal, the Akul are the top predators that hunt all sorts of bovine, dog, hooved and giant mammals. Using their extraordinary sense of smell, they can trace your scent from days long past and track you down without mercy.

Throughout the Savannah, tall and wispy Turu-grass stretches out into long ranging fields. Watering holes are sparse and spread thin, and the terrain offers little safety from the blazing sun that hangs overhead. When the sun retreats and gives way to moonlight, the Savannah becomes almost chill, but the night is dark and full of wild creatures. In the Savannah, it’s hunt or be hunted.

Mirin trudged across the open field of grass towards a copse of trees. The heat from the sun hanging high in the air beat down on her, her helmet firmly in place didn’t help. Pulling out her datapad, Mirin confirmed that the trees ahead matched the coordinates she had been given by her contact. She really wished she had been able to land her ship closer, but the instructions were clear. Whoever was here to sell her the artifact was apparently a little jumpy and wanted her approaching by foot. Mirin was good at what she did and had a reputation to uphold. She wasn’t going to burn bridges with a contact or a potential client just because she didn’t feel like walking a little ways.

Activating the macrobinoculars on her helmet, Mirin got a better look at her contact, a Duros pacing back and forth under what little shade the bare trees offered.

He is a nervous man isn’t he? she thought to herself. Almost there, make this quick and then get home.

It didn’t take her much longer to arrive beneath the ‘shade’ of the trees, at least it was a bit of a respite. The man jumped as a twig snapped under Mirin’s foot.

“Ah, you made it, good.” His eyes darted back and forth as if expecting trouble. “You got the credits?”

Alarm bells were ringing in Mirin’s head, something wasn’t right here.

“That depends,” she replied cautiously. “Do you have what I came for?”

“The artifact is over there.” He nodded to a cube crate, one foot long on each side and a handle on top laying just a few feet behind him. “You can have it once I see the credits, you do have them right?”

“I do,” a third voice cut in.

Mirin whipped her head around, blaster drawn. Approaching was a handsome Kiffar, his fine robes rustling in the breeze, Gui Sol’s dark dreadlocks swayed as he sauntered forward.

“The frak is going on here?” Mirin looked over at the Duros while keeping her blaster on the newcomer.

“Looks like we have a bidding war.” A greedy looking grin stretched across his face. “Who wants to make me the first offer?”

Mirin twisted, leveling her blaster at the Duros and fired a shot into his leg. Crying out in pain, he dropped to the ground.

“That’s my best and final offer,” she said, walking over and grabbing the handle of the crate, it was surprisingly light. As she stood up, Gui’s hand grabbed at the handle.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you have this,” his deep voice was calm yet stern. Mirin’s head whipped up to meet the strangers' glare. He towered over her, his emerald eyes seemed to see through her helmet.

Mirin tugged at the crate. Gui tugged back, neither loosened their grip. Mirin lifted her blaster and squeezed the trigger, attempting to put a bolt through the Jedi’s shoulder. The bolt whizzed past Gui as his hand slid along the inside of Mirin’s arm forcing her blaster away from its target.

Twisting her arm around her opponent’s, Mirin brought her blaster back up, this time aimed at his chest. Gui pressed in, sending the second boot grazing just past his shoulder.

Mirin let out a growl of frustration. Time for a different approach, Mirin thought. Gathering all of her strength, Mirin felt the Force pulse through her legs, muscles tensing. She threw herself backwards, still gripping the handle of the crate and lifted her legs above her, hoping to catch the Jedi off guard and launch him head over heels.