A gambler’s den of the Vertical City’s greatest bettors, Club Vertica is a casino reserved for the wealthiest of Nar Shaddaa. Cardshark droids are used exclusively to deal hands to those willing to risk their credits at the sabacc tables. Cheating is rendered near impossible under the surveillance of the droid's six photoreceptors. That of course does not stop the downtrodden from accusing others of being a fraud, which can often happen before someone receives a blaster bolt between the eyes. The few that have able to use skiffers undetected are counted as some of the best swindlers in the Galaxy.

Cerulean lights illuminate the tables, making concealment during a game difficult. Seated around most of the oval tables are a mix of gamblers from different species, succumbing to their addiction for the ultimate prize—the sabacc pot. Credits are tossed onto the tables forming mountains that draw in fierce competitors with deeper pockets and faster wit than the usual patrons.

Behind the games of sabacc, drinks are being served from the alcove of a small bar. Most of these are a shade of blue in color, expertly mixed to dull the senses of all but the hardiest individuals. Onstage, a local band sets the mood of the venue with an upbeat number that deafens out most conversations. The stakes are always high at Club Vertica.

The din and hubbub was already getting to Korroth. The trills and jangles of the slot machines, the music pulsing inside his skull, the clink of credit chips, the excited prattling of at least a dozen different languages. All the ladies wearing too much perfume only added to the sensory fracas. The Pau’an put a long-fingered hand to his forehead. He was sure he had a headache coming on.

The Jedi’s black eyes scanned over the heads of the patrons, searching for a particular humanoid—a Zeltron with scarlet skin, spiky green hair and emerald eyes. The sooner he found his mark the sooner he could return home. Not just to get out of this ghastly place—the Hoth-Satele Shan military exercise was in full swing right now. With the mock invasion just a few days away the Pau’an was determined he would be on Daleem in time to take part in the defence. His quarry certainly hadn’t made it easy to keep that commitment. She had led him on a merry chase along the Perlemian, then down the Salin Corridor and through Hutt Space via the Pabol Hutta. To have slipped from his reach on so many worlds, Korroth was sure she had received tip-offs and assistance from House Hoth.

The casino floor was jam-packed. The sabacc tables in the pit were like little islands, around which flowed streams of jocund humanoids of every colour and shape. Each being here had their own story, their own thread connecting them to the Galaxy. But all that melted away on the sabacc table, where all that mattered was the crisp rat-a-tat of riffled cards. Still, a Zeltron of his mark’s description shouldn’t be too difficult to spot, even in a throng such as this.

The Daleem Ship Smiths Guild had been reluctant to yield a visual profile of their former employee. Korroth wouldn’t be surprised if they were collaborating with House Hoth on the Zeltron’s little escapade. If the sensitive information she had fell into Hoth hands, the mock invasion would be short indeed. The Zeltron had been part of the construction crew for Satele Shan’s spaceport on Daleem—with the knowledge she carried Hoth could probably disable the station’s shields and take control of the space elevator, bypassing Satele’s most crucial defence line.

As he made his way in-between the tables, the Pau’an felt a tug in the Force. Closing his eyes, the Jedi mentally remarked on the similarity the crowded casino floor had for a lively jungle. So many lifeforms, all interconnected and interacting. But one bird’s warble stood out from the rest. He could feel this individual had a more vigorous connection to the Force. Turning to the right, he spotted a humanoid with glossy green skin, sat at a sabacc table with his back to Korroth. The ten head tendrils, the copper bands and the blackened hand (draped on the shoulders of a lady)—Korroth had seen this Nautolan before. He was not surprised to see this Hoth agent here, but his eyes widened when he noticed the Seer’s lady companion. A Zeltron with vivid red skin and upswept green hair. Typical, Korroth thought. A Satelite chases a woman half across the Galaxy and then a Hothian snatches her from right under his nose.

The Nautolan’s shoulders squared up, and his hand dropped from the Zeltron’s shoulder. Without a word, he stood and turned to face his Satelite counterpart. His hand hovered close to his slugthrower holster. Korroth looked to the gambling crowds surrounding them. This was not a good place for a fight.

“Satele Shan, right?” The Nautolan shouted over the pounding music. “Late to the party, as usual. Looks like you’ll have to go back empty-handed.”

“Look,” Korroth responded. “We don’t want to make a scene. Let me accompany our Zeltron friend here back to Daleem. You can come and get her once the military exercise is over.”

“You’re right, we don’t want to make a mess. This isn’t worth bystanders getting hurt, right? So how about you just leave.”

“We both know this is a serious matter.” The Pau’an made a few steps forward, his hands loose by his sides. The patrons around the tables nearby had surreptitiously closed their hands and walked away, and Nikto guards were converging through the press towards the two Odanites. “It isn’t just about the Clan exercise. If the Inquisitorius get their hands on her…”

“Why are you listening to this spoilsport,” the Zeltron exclaimed, punching Raiju in the arm. “Don’t even think about backing out of our deal!”

The Seer didn’t take his eyes off the Pau’an. The crowd surrounding the two had formed a wide circle by now. The patrons sensed something violent was going to go down, but their curiosity was obviously getting the better of their sense of self-preservation. Suddenly the Nautolan’s right hand twitched. Korroth flicked his saber hilt into his own hand, but stopped short of igniting. The Seer’s hands were still empty.

Raiju threw back his head and gave out a bellowing laugh. The Pau’an merely drew back with his right foot and grasped his hilt with both hands. The Seer looked back down, and this time the slugthrower really did come out of its holster. The Ranger’s emerald blade sprang to life. Raiju squeezed off three shots, but all were aimed low. Korroth hopped to one side, then jumped back. The slugs exploded on the brightly-coloured casino carpet, and a chalky liquid sprayed forth in an arc.

Most of it hit the floor, burning through the fabric and pitting the surface. Several drops hissed through Korroth’s boot. The corrosive substance seared his skin, and he gave out a yelp of pain. He went down to one knee, attempting to channel the Force through the lesion, when the Nautolan appeared right above him. His vermilion lightsaber cut through the air in a straight overhead arch. Korroth went into a roll, and the blade slashed into the ground.

The Ranger regained his feet and raised his lightsaber. Caustic pain from his left foot pierced his awareness again. He embraced it and compressed it with his mind, reducing it to a mere pinprick for the moment.

Snooty.

Yes, if he was only allowed to use one word to describe the overzealous, self-righteous, emotionally wound, academia elite, and uptight buzzkill that was the Pau’an before him; Raiju Kang would probably use the word snooty. I mean, the word itself emcompasses so much of these already and provides even more imaginary of the type of person that Pau’an could be. In fact, Raiju hadn’t met any Pau’an who hadn’t been snooty. Let’s face it, no one ever invited a Pau’an to a party expecting them to be the highlight of the night; most likely you were cursing yourself to hear about how best you could have arranged the two types of chips you put out or how they could have saved you a half credit off your purchases.

So when the Ranger winced and slightly stumbled for a second before regaining his composure, Raiju took some satisfaction in the snooty Pau’an’s plight. It probably wasn’t the most Jedi-like behaviour, but Raiju was pretty sure that Pau’an would’ve been quick to point out Raiju wasn’t a “proper” Jedi.

“You’re putting people’s lives at risk.” Korroth proclaimed, unsurprisingly.

“Maybe you should have just left us well enough alone!” A voice from the sidelines was quick to respond. Venstine, the Zeltron girl, stood at the front of the crowd. It might be getting to that point that the girl was just more effort than she was worth, but those damn curves spoke to Raiju.

Past the bold girl, something else caught his eye - the Quarren he had been chatting up at the Sabacc table before all this was quickly making his exit and a silent curse slipped into the Nautolan’s mind. To complicate things, Raiju could also see the establishment's best crew were quickly making their way forward through the crowd that was ever-growing. It hadn’t been wise for the Pau’an to ignite his lightsaber here; this was the most dangerous place in the galaxy and even though the Jedi and their Sith counterparts had became myths and legends in the public eye - it wasn’t the first time a fool waved a lightsaber around in here, and the Nikto’s would be prepared.

Raiju wasn’t going to chance it; any delay and the Quarren would be beyond his grasp and the deal would be off with Venstine. The Pau’an, the guards, and even the mountain of people encircling them were nothing more than a hindrance and shouldn’t be thought of more than that...actually, the crowd could be a tool.

“Octane Tango!” The nonsensical phrase burst from the Nautolan’s mouth at an ear-trembling volume. Agreed upon before, Venstine reacted immediately to the code phrase and hunkered down next to a nearby table and buried her face into her hands. Raiju, on the other hand, had deactivated his lightsaber and tossed its hilt into his offhand. Clenching his right fist with purpose, he bellowed with fury as he brought his fist down to the ground. Positioned smartly between several Sabacc tables whose occupants had back away to the surrounding crowd, a wave of energy rippled out from the fist. Had anyone been standing within its proxy, they would have immediately been floored; but even the Pau’an had time to back away from the telekinetic attack. Instead, the energy soared up the legs of each of the Sabacc tables and upon its intended target.

Chips, credits, and even tabled jewelry exploded from each of the tables; raining down onto the room’s occupants in a hail storm. For several tense seconds, everyone held their breath in amazement at the display as if it were some magic trick - until the nature of these particular people took over. All it took was one Bothan’s greed, whom had dove to the floor in panicked fashion and began scooping treasure into his pockets, and the room broke into chaos. What had once been a civil gathering around the two combatants, erupted into dozens of arguments and a fury of fists, feets, chairs, and whatever else could be used as a weapon. The crowd quickly filled into the centre of the room, Raiju and the Pau’an were quickly separated as everyone else in the room laid claim to the valuables on the floor. Even the guards were drawn away from the initial action as some of them attempted to pacify those around them while others stealthily lined their pockets with their new holiday bonus.

A playful smirk spread across the Nautolan’s face as met eyes with Korroth, he suspected the Pau’an was struggling to not show his great frustration with the situation. However, Raiju was not going to allow him a chance to pacify the chaos. Still clutching his lightsaber hilt in his offhand, the Nautolan threw his arms wide open as he attempted to focus alternative energies into each of his hands. Sweat, on the sides of his face, grew from small beads to pouring down to his jawline and soaked his collar; emphasizing the great strain he was under with his back to back attacks. Yet, while his arms too were soaked with sweat, when the Nautolan brought them up to chest height and slapped his palms together a brilliantly bright glow poured from the Seer’s hands and washed over the room with a white light.

Deafening screams pierced through the sounds of arguments, while all around the room people covered their eyes from the blinding light. In front of Raiju, the snooty Pau’an stood gritting his teeth with face buried deep into his bicep. There wasn’t much time before the Ranger would recover and be after them, and with it the room being overcome with chaos again.

Bursting into a dead sprint, Raiju launched himself over a Mon Calarmian who wrangled around on the floor clutching his big fishy eyes with his webbed, clawed hands. Landing within steps of the Zeltron, he tugged the woman from her tight ball beneath the table and pulled the woman to her feet. From her stumbling in a daze, Raiju could see that the balling up had not been enough to fully protect herself from the blinding light and he pulled on her to followed; refusing to release her wrist as he lead them through the maze of people. Tucking, ducking, and weaving through the mess of reeling masses, Raiju felt a large sigh of relief burst from him as he pulled them through the exit.

Coughing quickly overwhelmed the Nautolan’s breathing, which he finished with a long, heavy sigh. A tingling sensation quickly covered the Nautolan’s body as he lended back on the durasteel wall and focused on drawing in the energy around him. Yet, he could feel the burning look the Zeltron girl was giving him was they just stood there.

“We gotta go!” Venstine snorted, obviously recovered from her daze and feeling the pressure to catch up to the Quarren. However, the only response she got from Raiju was an extended index finished asking for a moment. Seething, she snorted again and looked back into the club; then forcefully pulled back and grabbed Raiju’s holstered sidearm.

In his recovering state, the Seer was too slow to stop the Zeltron from ripping the pistol from his side and turning back to the club entrance. The Zeltron quickly snapped off a shot into the club, but was followed by Raiju throwing his shouldered into the Zeltron girl and forcing her to the ground. When Raiju peered back into, he saw the intended target had been the Pau’an; who stood defiantly in the crowd with his lightsaber raised. Another sigh of relief escaped the Nautolan, which he followed up by reaching inside and smacking the panic button inside the club door. Immediately his arm was forced out of the club by the descending durasteel door that sealed the club.

Somewhere between rage and disappointment, Raiju Kang glared down at the fallen Zeltron. No words were exchange between the two, yet an understanding seemed to agreed upon and Venstine sheepishly stood and handed the pistol back to the Nautolan. Refusing to break his glare, Nautolan snatched the pistol and tucked it back in his holster with a forceful shove. This time, he latched it in place.

“Come on.” Venstine whispered in a soothing voice before flashing her eyelashes before proceeding and a blowing kiss. “We have a Quarren to catch and a deal to settle.”

Trotting by the Nautolan, Raiju couldn’t help but turn with her as his gaze fell upon her rear while it bounced past. Rolling his head around and cracking his neck, a smirk crept across his face while the Seer watched the girl playful bound away but the sides of his mouth dropped at the sound of something piercing the durasteel behind him. A quick look over his shoulder forced the Nautolan into a sprint while pushing the Zeltron forward.

“Run!” The word cut quickly through the air much like the emerald blade cut through the door behind them.

The durasteel sizzled as it melted. Korroth could feel the heat of the incandescent metal on his thumb and index finger. Behind him in the casino pit were shouts and mayhem. The Nikto floormen were deploying stun batons on anyone who got too close to the croupier droids or the cashiers’ cages. Swarms of agitated people, once gamblers and now pillagers, rushed about, jumped on tables, surged against any potential exit they could find.

The Pau’an paid no attention to them. His hands tightly gripped the saber hilt, a folded sabacc card wedged between his fingers. The groove of red-hot metal now described a rough circle in the door. With a final push the durasteel disc lurched forward and tipped through, slamming to the floor on the other side. The Pau’an de-ignited his lightsaber, pushed through the opening and moved quickly away. The patrons were already jostling and elbowing their way out of the newly-formed exit. Korroth put some distance between himself and the dispersing crowd—it wouldn’t be long before law enforcement arrived on the scene, and he didn’t want to get stuck with them.

The Pau’an blinked as he surveyed the Casino’s open plaza. A purple afterimage of the Nautolan’s flash flare still floated in his vision, but it was obvious that the two runaways were no longer here. Taking a deep breath, he clipped his saber hilt to his belt and unfolded the crimped sabacc card in his hand. It was the ten of Flasks, but it had been vandalised with a red marker. Somebody had filled in the green stylised cup symbol, making it look like it held a ruby liquid. The sole fact that the card wasn’t randomly changing value indicated that it had been used for a purpose other than the game. The Jedi had found it amongst the mess left by the Nautolan, and he was convinced it was some kind of signal or token.

Closing his eyes, Korroth rubbed his thumb over the glossy card. His awareness descended through his hand into the sliver of plastene. It seemed to gain an additional dimension, one that pierced time as well as space, and revealed the card’s ethereal tethers to the world. A faint image began to form in the Jedi’s inner eye. Bobbing green tendrils, a dark hand clutching a scarlet one. Korroth reached out towards them, but the image dissipated like steam in the wind. He could not hold it, it was as if they were not the last beings to have held the card.

A new figure appeared in the Jedi’s mind. It had a long grey tunic, pale tawny skin, tentacles where its mouth should be. Korroth focused on the image. The Quarren was twiddling with his mouth tendrils and jerking his head this way and that. He stood in a dim backstreet that was stacked high with crates. Behind him flickered neon Aurebesh letters—”The Claing Chalice.” Korroth opened his eyes and the image disappeared. He knew that place, he had seen it on his way into the Casino. Raiju and his contact must be using it as a fallback location. The idea that an Odanite would put such vital Clan intelligence in jeopardy, it shocked Korroth and spurred him to get his hands on that Nautolan.

The wail of sirens reached the Pau’an’s ears. Soon the plaza was flooded in strobing blue-red lights, but the Jedi was already racing past the Casino building and down a narrow alley, a slight limp marring the cadence of his step. He squeezed through the press of curious onlookers and followed the alley as it twisted around the Casino’s auxiliary edifices. The neighbourhood’s seedier establishments filled these streets, a sharp contrast to the glitz of the Vertica. Occasionally the skyscrapers opened up to reveal the sights and stench of the levels below—zoetropes of a living slum. Korroth turned a corner and spotted the bar’s sign, illuminating a dark recess of the alley. Sure enough, a fidgeting grey-robed Quarren paced below it. His eyes went wide when he saw the Pau’an approach.

“You!” He pointed a suction-tipped finger at the Jedi and began to back away. “You... you’re the crazy svaper with the lightstick!”

Korroth held his hands up, open palms towards the Quarren. “No fear, sir. I’m just here to talk to the Nautolan. I have nothing against you.”

“You keep your distance, you hear? Raiju didn’t say nothin’ about competition. He hired my ship,” the Quarren rattled off. “Ain’t nothin’ you can do about it!” He bumped against a tower of boxes, and their contents rattled with the dull clinks of brimful bottles.”

“A ship—for the Zeltron girl? Where were you going to take her?”

“Ha!” The Quarren snorted. “Think I’m gonna tell you?”

“Look, whatever the Nautolan offered you, my people can top it if you take her back to the Nilgaard sector. You just need to wait here and let me sort it out with our mutual acquaintance.”

“Well…” The Quarren made a wet warbling sound in his throat. “Long as I get to… oh-oh.”

“You’re still here!” A voice roared at the top of the alley.

The Pau’an’s hand twitched, but he resisted the urge to grasp his saber hilt. He turned round to Raiju. “You were going to let her escape, weren’t you? Help her drop off the Sentinel Network sensor,” he said, nodding to the Zeltron standing with Raiju.

“Escape? She’s a fugitive now, is she?” Raiju retorted. The Nautolan did not approach, he stood with his legs apart, his shoulders straight-on facing the Pau’an and his right-hand fingers tap-tapping his belt. Venstine was a couple of steps behind him, her teeth bared, her hands clutching and unclutching in the air. “I hadn’t realised Daleem was a prison planet!”

“This incident has flown far beyond the concern of Daleem. Letting her go away on a random ship—it’d be handing our most sensitive information to…” The Pau’an’s black eyes flicked towards the Quarren behind him. “To our enemies.” He waved his arm in a skyward sweeping motion. “The Clan’s enemies!”

“You haven’t latched on, have you,” Raiju remarked. An annoyed grimace twisted his lips. “We’re not ‘letting’ her do anything. It’s her choice where she comes and goes. I’m just here to facilitate.”

“Nobody’s disputing her right to leave Daleem. But as long as her knowledge imperils the Clan, we need to keep her under surveillance. Tell you what—” Korroth made a few steps forward, favouring his left foot. The sweat and strain of the previous run made his caustic burns smart like stingwort. “Until her intel is no longer actionable, we can both stay with her here on…”

The Seer broke out in a throaty laugh. “No thanks!” The paroxysm of laughter subsided and he took a moment to regain his breath. His visage suddenly straightened. “In fact, I think you’ve wholly overstayed your welcome.”

The ever-coursing ripples of the Force caught the subsequent moment—Raiju unholstering his heavy repeater and Korroth igniting his saber—in a single lattice of potential energy. The repeater discharged its deadly load. The emerald blade swept across the Pau’an’s body. Metal slugs hissed and sparked as they met the beam of plasma. Raiju depressed the trigger again. The repeater’s nozzle spewed its hail of fiery pellets, pushing the Ranger back along the alleyway.

The slugthrower fell silent for a moment. Korroth saw the Nautolan raise his sable hand. He advanced, green saber raised in front of him, closing the distance before Raiju could fire again. Something jangled and clinked above his head, to the left. A high crate tipped over of its own volition and capsized its contents over the Ranger. Glass bottles clunked over his bald head. One shattered over his shoulder, soaking his left arm. More smashed on the duracrete pavement. The rancid reek of the ruby liquid hit the Pau’an’s nostrils.

The clatter of repeater fire filled the alley again. Incandescent pellets struck the ground, sparks flew. The spilled liquor ignited with a whoomph! Nigh-invisible, orange-tipped flames spread outwards. Korroth yelled out as he felt sudden heat rise up his left arm. He let his lightsaber drop away and began to whack his sleeve. He threw himself to the ground and rolled over his left side. Barely registering in his frenzied mind, several shouts sounded from up the alley. The hem of a grey robe drifted past his head.

Arm cradled against his abdomen, the Pau’an came up to one knee. The sleeve of his kaftan was burned off. The exposed skin was pink and raw. In places it had blackened and peeled off. The burn extended up to his cheek, with the metal ear-disk almost fused to his skin. The comlink on his wrist was charred and half-melted. Gritting his teeth, Korroth unclasped the band. It peeled away with a moist ripping sound.

The Ranger picked up his saber hilt and stood up straight, grunting through his teeth. The pain pervaded his senses, throbbing in time with his quickened heartbeat. He called on the Force to wash over the limb, dulling the pain provided he kept it still. Looking up, Korroth saw Venstine pushing the Quarren onward, just before they vanished around a backstreet corner. Raiju, on the other hand, was moving quickly towards his Satelite opponent, his red-orange blade held before him.

Korroth raised his green lightsaber in his right hand. Thoughts of Daleem, vital intel and red Zeltrons had evaporated from the Ranger’s thoughts; only Raiju remained. His focus was solely on the Nautolan, not in hate or anger but in single-minded will to victory. The vermilion blade descended upon him, and clashed with the emerald beam. Korroth riposted, but Raiju caught the blade in his next swing and batted it aside. The clean, sharp cuts of the Seer’s saber were like an advancing portcullis, pressing Korroth back along the narrow street.

The two combatants passed the front of the Claing Chalice and moved onto a descending ramp. From the levels below came pointing fingers, muttering voices and the stink of unwashed, lived-in streets. As they moved downwards the tips of their lightsabers scored bright gashes in the duracrete. Raiju chambered his lightsaber on his left hip and pulled it horizontally, as if he was chopping down a tree. Korroth jumped back onto his right foot, wincing and half-faltering at the tug of his acid-burned skin. The vermilion blade buzzed past, and the Pau’an thrust out his lightsaber. Raiju’s saber rose and caught Korroth’s attack. The green saber got knocked back, its feeble one-handed grip unable to bear the direct force of the Seer’s movements. The Ranger kept his seared left arm tucked close against his body, like a broken bird’s wing. Even so, with every convulsive motion the pain pierced through his Force-fed mental barrier, forcing a groan from his lips.

The Nautolan’s lightsaber was raised straight above his head. Korroth redirected the impetus of his own thwarted attack into a downward cut. Raiju’s reddish blade descended with speed and force, like a headman’s axe. It chopped down on the emerald blade and bashed it into the ground, carrying the Pau’an’s shoulder downward. A gust in the Force blew from the two crossed blades, warning the Ranger. His back muscles contracted, arching his body backwards as the tip of the Nautolan’s saber hummed upwards past his nose.

Having evaded the strike, Korroth felt himself carried back by the Force-propelled momentum of his own body. He fell backwards. He saw the Seer’s feet shuffle closer to him and went into a horizontal roll down the ramp. He yelped when his body passed over the burned arm, but he managed to get back up on his knees. He blinked from the searing pain cutting through his mind. The ramp, the Nautolan, the narrow passageway swam in his vision. Raiju had his left hand closed in a fist. He punched it towards Korroth and opened it. The energy of the Force ripped through the air. The Ranger leapt up, but the world lurched like a ship in a nebula. The impact caught him in the chest. He put his right foot back but it gave way on the awkward footing of the ramp. He stumbled backward, his head thumped on the duracrete and all went black.

The Pau’an’s body tumbled and rolled down the ramp like a bag of sticks. Raiju, panting slightly, deignited and holstered his saber. He watched as the unconscious Odanite hit the bottom of the ramp. Initially, the rag-clothed inhabitants of the dark street scattered away from the new arrival. Soon, however, a dozen scruffy urchins began to creep towards the body. Raiju started down the ramp, but a feminine voice called out to him. As he turned around, Venstine emerged from her hiding place behind the corner.

“That was astral, you thrashed him!” The Zeltron made her way down the ramp, bright green curls bobbing up and down. “C’mon, the Quarren’s waiting for us.”

Raiju looked back to the street below. The urchins were all over the senseless Pau’an. Three were fighting over his lightsaber hilt. One was trying to prise the intact ear-disk from his head. The rest had stripped him of all possessions in a matter of seconds. As they left, one of them threw back the acid-damaged boot. Venstine pulled on the Seer’s shoulder. He turned away from the Pau’an and put an arm around the Zeltron’s waist.

“Maybe,” he mused out loud, with a white-toothed grin. “We can let him wait for another night.”

The pounding, panicked beating of his two hearts nearly drowned the sounds of their boots squeaking and scuffing on the floor as they hurried around corner after corner. Raiju Kang had been quick to take the lead from Venstine, having passed his lightsaber back to his right hand, and clutched her tightly with his left hand; with each change of direction the Nautolan tugged the Zeltron onto his tail. Whatever protests the girl had were quickly ignored, having been lost in the rush and determination of the Nautolan - she was going to followed, and she was going to keep up.

“Stop!” The command was spat out well before the pair had even rounded the final corner to the turbolifts. When they had; Raiju had every other intention besides stopping.

Dropping the pretty Zeltron’s hand as soon as a new trio of Nikto appeared, the Nautolan seemed to throw something invisible towards the first guard’s groin. Whatever the projectile had been, it hit the man with such force that it forced him from his feet with a large howl before he collapsed to the floor; face first. While the first guard became incapacitated, the Nautolan was still in motion leaping forward into a slide.

The distance between Nautolan and the Niktos was drastically cut down while Raiju rode across the floor on his buttocks one of his legs extended. Forcing the guards to change their aim, despite the split second it had been, had given the Nautolan enough time to spring upon them. Activating his weapon, the orange blade was quick to lash out at its targets. First an ankle was cleaved. Dropping another target with a blood curdling howl. Next, the blade swiped at the blaster the third Nitko held in an attempt to disable it - but only succeeded in forcing the owner to pull back and cancel his own would-be attack.

The howling of the second Nitko quickly faded, likely due to the fact shock had quickly set in, while the Raiju forced himself to his feet using his momentum to his advantage. Throwing his weight forward, the Nautolan slammed into the Nitko; shoving his shoulder into the guard’s chest and sending him reeling into the glass that wrapped the turbolift. A deep thud accompanied the man rebounding off the glass, which was followed by a large crack - when Raiju’s elbow connected with the man’s jaw. A second thud rang through the hall as the guard collapsed to the ground clutching his jaw in pain.

“Get in, now!” Raiju commanded the Zeltron, clipping his lightsaber and tugging his pistol from his holster again. Slowing, the Raiju backed into the turbolift and left the Zeltron to activate it. His focus remained squarely on the hallway they were leaving. Time seemed to have slowed as he waited for the doors to close, with each heartbeat taking minutes. Finally, light reflected off a shiny, bald surface - and Raiju fired a good measure in front of it to drive the Pau’an back into the previous hallway.

“It’s over, Korroth.” Raiju followed up with, shouting between the glass doors as they closed. “You’re time would be better spent tending to these fine gentlemen.”

His last few words echoed in the turbolift after the doors sealed with a clunk. While Raiju couldn’t be sure, he felt the Pau’an had picked up his message. Suddenly, the Zeltron and Nautolan began to descend and slowly the Pau’an disappeared from view. Picking up speed, the lift sailed towards the docks below and lights flew by at an increasing speed creating a tense hue over the pair. With distance ever growing between them and their pursuer, Raiju couldn’t help by realize the more pressing concern and how it had been silencing his partner.

“It will be okay.” Raiju started, stepping towards the Zeltron and placing a hand on her shoulder. When she failed to acknowledge his words, he gave her a slight shake and tilted his head into her view and met her eyes. “It will be okay, Venstine. If she leaves here today, we will track her down.”

“Only for as long as you need those codes.” Venstine spat back, she was now visibly upset - taking a moment to wipe tears from her eyes. “”Once you-”

“Find out you don’t have them, I’ll ditch you?” Raiju asked, his show-off grin quickly creeping across his mouth. Disbelief shot over the Zeltron’s face, which soon turned to horror and embarrassment. For several long moments, they rode the turbolift in silence as Venstine mulled over the realization. Finally, sniffling up for a final time first, she continued.

“If you knew already, why…?”

“Did I agree to help you?” Raiju finished for her, their ride immediately stopped at the docks and he stepped out the opening doors. “I’ve also had a soft spot for a beautiful woman in need.”

Despite her red coloured skin, Raiju knew he had made her blush without looking back. Yet, he also knew she would come to her senses soon enough and want to know the real answer. For the sake of what was to happen next, he knew she had to be able to trust him.

“For as long as you stay out of Satele’s hands, the longer they are distracted.” Raiju confessed, turning back to the Zeltron and grabbing her hand. When Venstine looked up and met his eyes, he moved his hands to her shoulders and held her tightly before continuing. “We don’t need the codes, we already have a tactical advantage. But forcing them to recode their system last minute will cause disorder for us to pounce on. Furthermore, keeping Korroth from the battle for as long as possible keeps an important piece out of play.”

“So I was just a pawn for your plans?” Venstine’s words had a bit of hurt to them.

“No more than I was for you,” Raiju was quick to point out. Suddenly, behind them the second turbolift hummed indicating their pursuer was approaching, Knowing their time was short, he pulled the Zeltron in front of him and pushed her through the doors while holding her left arm tightly behind her. WIth levage on her arm steering the Zeltron, Raiju quickly whispered one last bit into the Zeltron’s ear. “Thankfully, using you had the added bonus of helping her as well.”

“You must be a fool to come down here.” The words sounded gurgled coming from the Quarren. It hadn’t taken Raiju long to scope the room after he shoved Venstine through the door into the Quarren’s docking bay - there wasn’t much to this tiny bay or the pathetic ship that was housed in it.

“I think you are a fool for leaving behind your spoils!” Raiju spat back, “Where I come from its considered rude to make a man track you down to pay you.”

“Forget it!” The Quarren stood boldly on the loading ramp to his ship and continued to point his blaster towards the pair. “I don’t want anything to do with Jedi!”

“Then it’s your lucky day! Cause I’m not a Jedi” Raiju shouted back with a jolly snort accompanying his words. At this point he push Venstine into the area between the two men and stood with his arms wide open showing he was unarmed. “All I am is a man trying to get a little credit into the slave trading business. Consider her an offering to lubricate future deals.”

Tension remained high while the Quarren appeared to be thinking. It was clear he was unsure of the Nautolan from the events up in the casino but the man’s greed for for the Zeltron and what she offered stayed his hand. Raiju knew he needed just a little more convincing.

“Come on, man, I mean a smart businessman like yourself has to have another Zeltron back there.” Raiju sighed, pointing towards the Quarren’s ship. “Pair the two up, call them sisters - better yet, say they are twins. No one will know the difference and you can charge so much more for them.”

“Right…” The Quarren seemed to like the idea, and he quickly waved the girl onboard with his pistol. “Come on, get on. GET HER IN A CAGE!”

Shouting to someone in the back, the Quarren seemed to refuse to leave the Nautolan’s sight and kept his blaster on Raiju. At this point Raiju felt his hand was played and kept his hands up and slowly back away. When he felt he had given enough distance, he finally dropped them and finally shouted again.

“So, that credit, I’ll collect next we meet - yes?”

“What have you done…” Was the answer to Raiju’s question. Instead of being shouted from the ship’s loading ramp, it came almost as a curse from beside the man. And indeed, there stood the panting Pau’an whose eyes stayed fixated on the ship as it began warming up. Without another word, the Ranger darted forward and ignited his emerald blade. Any protest from Raiju seemed to fall on deaf ears - within seconds, the Ranger had closed the distance to the ship.

Several discharges from the Quarren’s blaster rang throughout the hanger and were quickly followed by a howling cry. Raiju cursed as he watched the alien collapse down the ramp and the Pau’an disappeared into the ship.

Unclipping his lightsaber, Raiju ran towards the ship but held out at the bottom of the ramp; waiting. Whoever had been in the ship taking commands from the Quarren soon shared a similar fate, or so the scream from the ship seemed to illustrate. Yet, Raiju trusted that the unyielding commitment Korroth had to the Jedi path might it was a last resort. So he continued to hold out, listening for any issue taken with the Zeltron. Instead, things surprisingly went smoothly and within a few more moments, the Pau’an reemerged with the Zeltron in tow. She kept her eyes cast to the ground, and a look of defeat washed across the girl’s face but she seemed to resign herself to the fact she had to go with the Pau’an. Yet, at this point it was Raiju standing in the only way off the ship.

“Enough, Raiju.” Korroth plead. “You made your move and it failed. The girl is coming with me now.”

His fist tightened on the lightsaber hilt, as his conscious went through an internal debate. However, finally, Raiju yielded the ramp and withdrew several steps to make way for the Pau’an. When the man exited, only a nod from the Pau’an seemed to thank Raiju for his acceptance before he pushed the girl away and back towards the turbolift. When he had finally disappeared, Raiju ran onboard to see what had happened to the girl they had been chasing.

It took several moments to get the layout of the ship, but when he figured out where the holding units were Raiju slid into the room and fell to his knees. Peering through the holes in each of the cages, the Nautolan met the eyes of four different individuals - each more scared and terrified than the last. His soul cried out for the conditions these people were in, but it was the final pen that brought tears to his eyes. A girl with scarlet skin, matted down green hair, and emerald eyes refused to make eye contact with him. Yet, instead of wearing a skin tight, revealing dress that Venstine had on; the girl wore only a ragged pair of underwear that smelt like it had been stained several times over and draped over herself a tiny brown blanket for some additional warmth.

The sound of the pen’s lock lifting was eerie in this place, but Raiju was quick to heave open the door afterwards. Kneeling down beside the girl, he gently reached out towards her while speaking softly in reassurance that she was safe. Yet, to fully help her he knew he needed to know what happened.

When his hands touched the blanket, he forced himself to picture its journey to him. Starting at some inconceivable time, his mind races through the times the girl had touched the blanket. There were events of hurt, where the girl had been force against her will or beaten into submission. Other times of great sadness or loneliness, that she clutched the material in hopes to combat the pain she suffered. Yet, as the pictures raced through his mind they fogged near the end when a sudden feeling of joy overcame the material and a familiar face filled the picture in his mind. The fact of a scarlet girl, with spiked hair she patted down and with emerald eyes that contained a hint of hurt in them.

Sitting down next to the woman, Raiju put his hand on her shoulder and felt her sigh in relief. Squeezing her, Raiju leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“It’s okay now, Venstine. Korroth will get her to safety.’ He felt her turn into him and squeeze back, more tears had began raining down her cheek. Yet, through a lump in her throat she managed to respond.

“I know.”