Special Delivery

[Regan Valdis]

The ship fell out of hyperspace with a crack and began to fall towards the planet. The inertial dampeners were offline and the flight systems were smoking. The large cargo vessel sank towards Onderon in a forward dive, spiralling out of control as the planet's gravity gripped at its huge mass. The droid crew were safely sealed away in their alcoves, while the lone sentient captain was strapped into a chair that didn't feel as safe as he'd like. As the surroundings whirled around like some insanely sickening ride, the young man reached for the communications panel.

"This is Regan Valdis of the transport vessel Oasis. My ship is badly damaged and heading for the surface. Beacon has been activated - request immediate assistance. Repeat - request immediate ...<kkpt-fssstkkk-zzzt>..."

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The mangled wreck of the Oasis lay at the end of a shallow scar in the hard ground of Onderon. Smoke and flames lapped up into the midday sky. The command cabin was strewn with debris. A large pile of ceiling panels started to juggle about on the floor as Regan emerged from them, miraculously unscathed. He stood up shakily, clutching his stomach.

"I think I'm gonna be sick..."

Hubbling over th the main computer terminal, he discovered that an overhead monitor had damaged the communications panel. He sighed as he turned his attention to the ground below as he peered out of the remains of the forward window. A large group of hulking dog-like creatures, as well as several other nasty-looking species, had already gathered around the ship - no doubt drawn by the smell of the foodstuffs on board. As he strained to see the hull of the ship, he noticed a large gash in the side of the hull. The pack of behemoths darted inside.

"Well isn't that just brilliant!"

[Kyzer Rayne]

Another ship, the second in the last month, to crash into the surface of Onderon. Was there some form of anomaly in space around Onderon that caused ships to lose control and plummet to the ground? No, there was not. He was no space expect or even a pilot for that matter. He had only been in space a few times. Yet, he knew there was no such anomaly. The error rested with sentient pilots foolish enough to disengage auto-pilot mechanisms because their egos told them they were capable of flying their vessel all on their. Pity they must all fall asleep at the controls, otherwise, why would they crash so?

It hardly mattered. All that did matter was that the ranks of the 22nd Light Dragoons saw the ship descending toward the planet and it's commanding officer, Lieutenant Kyzer Rayne, ordered the aerial unit to head for the crash. Each of the Beast Riders rode a drexl, the purple skinned reptavians who's skin was tough and their bodies agile. They made the perfect natural mount for aerial combat. Even if the Beast Rider riding it was to die or fall, the beast itself would still fly with the unit riderless. There was a great bond between Beast Rider and his or her mount, a bond that made them near telepathic as their bodies moved in sync with each other. Flight and combat, entwined perfectly.

The Dragoons arrived above the damaged vessel, just as a pack of what appeared to be boma pups arrived at the ship, several of which entered a hole in the hull of the vessel. Already the various riders where checking their armements, a collection of spears, machetes, knives, and bows, each of which was either strapped somewhere on their bodies or on their mount. Each Beast Rider wore a collection of brown cloth and hardened leather for protection. Except Kyzer. To declare his rank he wore black cloth and black studden leather and carried an exotic blade that resembled a shortened katana, a Wakizashi. Those with long hair had their hair tied back so that it would not hamper their sight, the same was said for their clothing, which was loose to allow free movement.

"For the Queen!" Went the shout just before the Dragoons angled their mounts down and began descending toward the boma pups at breakneck speeds. Various battle cries filled the air intermingled with the shrieks of the Drexls. Together the Dragoons pulled up and sped along the ground toward the bomas. Half the beast riders, including Kyzer, landed on the ground and dismounted from their beasts, while the remainder in the air flew over the tops of the bomas, the talons of the drexls slashing at the backs of the bomas or picking them up to drop later.

And just like that, all the boma pups on the outside were dead or gone, which only left those inside. Kyzer drawing his Wakizashi, charged into the rift in the hull of the ship with his soldiers right behind him. It was dark, but the flashing eyes of the boma pups reflected what little light there was. It was a mad melee, steel against tooth and claw. Most of the riders used spears to keep the distance between them and the bomas, but a few still employed blades, such as Kyzer, and these few remained beside their spear counterparts, so that once a boma was hooked with a spear, the swordsman could approach and finish the beast off. It was a slaughter, for the boma pups. They were young and small, naive and inexperienced. They simply could not stand up to the extensive training and battle experience of the 22nd Light Dragoons division.

With the battle over, Kyzer wiped his blade clean and then moved through the ship, heading forward toward the cockpit with a few of his best soldiers behind him. Weapons ready, they pushed through the heavy cockpit door, which had lost power and had to be forced aside. The group stepped into the cockpit, weapons pointed at the lone man who stood behind the damaged controls. "State yourself!" Kyzer demanded, his sword pointing toward the man. There was the soft stretching noise of bowstrings being pulled taunt. The Light Dragoons did not believe in energy weapons and used primitive weapons instead, but should this man draw a blaster, he would find himself with several arrows and spears through his heart.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A small group of Mandalorian warriors had been out hunting, tracking the group of boma's that the City Dragoons had just slaughtered. The crashed freighter was obviously carrying cargo, judging by how it had dug into the ground.

The City's Beastriders entered the freighter, and the Mandalorians remained hidden, contemplating the carnage of the boma pups in the clearing around the crash. The freigher was a greater prize than the pups, though each were a meter and a half at the shoulder and the adults were even bigger. The meat on the adult boma was tough, hard to eat, and tasted overly gamey. The pups could be used for a fine supple leather in addition to all the other uses the warrior clan had come up with over the centuries.

One of them sent a short burst transmission back to the main hunting party, describing the wreck.

[Regan Valdis]

"Oh, I'll state myself, alright! I'm the damn captain of this thing - thats who I am. Regan Valdis - thats me! This is my ship so don't go round acting like you own the joint, buddy. I don't need spears and harpoons and arrows and knives and sharp sticks pointed at my face okay!?"

He sat down, holding his head. He kicked a random switch that had broken off and fell to the floor.

"I don't need this right now. I've been ambushed, chased, shot at, crashed and threw up and almost got my head chomped off by one of those big dog things out there. I'm just here delivering supplies to Iziz. I didn't ask for this to happen so lay off, man!"

He looked up, bewildered at the current situation. His ship, his pride and joy, lay in ruin all around.

"This whole thing is beyond repair. It's not even worth scrap now."

[Kyzer Rayne]

The weapons were slowly lowered as Kyzer strode into the cabin, sliding his sword into the sheath upon his back. "If you are who you say, then you have nothing to fear from us," He said as he took the man by the arm and pulled him to his feet, "But you cannot sit here. We most move. It will be night soon, and far worse beasts will begin hunting. We need to make for Iziz at once. Follow," he released the man's arm and headed out the cockpit doorway, through the ship, and back outside the way he came in. Several of the Dragoons were up in the air, on patrol, while two were down on the ground loading the dead Boma pups on to their drexls mounts. It was a bounty they would not leave behind. He ordered the rest of the Dragoons, then ones that had come inside with him, to set up a perimeter around the ship and watch for beasts or Mandalorians.

Kyzer was very ill at ease. Boma puts were hardly a challenge for experience Beast Riders, but where there are pups there is a mother boma, a great beast longer then a man is tall, angry, and weighing more then enough to crush a man beneath it's body. Teeth like razors and a tail that can shatter bones. It was not a beast you wanted to meet in the dark, or at all for that matter. Mandalorians would be a better adversary then a group of adult bomas on the hunt. Iziz had a loose treaty of sorts with the Mandalorians of Mandalore's camp, but there were other Mandalorian camps and groups that could prove a problem this far out from the city.

"What is your cargo?" He asked the pilot, whom had been more or less herded out here by Kyzer and his Beast Riders. The man was still in shock, that much was evident, but Kyzer was not going to let the man's dazed mind hold him back. He has questions and he wanted answers yesterday. He was very pushy in that way. He blamed his childhood. Being the nephew of the King had it's perks, and being a spoiled brat had been among them. With his father and uncle dead, though, the flow of wealth had come abruptly to a simmer and he was forced to grow up. So he joined the military, and here he was now.

Sometimes he wondered if his cousin, the Queen, even knew that he still existed.

[Regan Valdis]

As they made their way through the mangled, cluttered and often blocked corridors of his ship, Regan shook his head in dismay multiple times. The route from the cockpit to the gash in the hull was relatively straight up until the final turn through the garage, where the huge hull breach opened up into the hostile unknown. It was hot outside, temperatures that Regan had only partly felt while in the confines of the ship. It was overbearing and very uncomfortable for him, but he soon found a large leaf to absorb most of the heat. The man in charge spoke to him.

"What? Oh, ah, food supplies mainly. About sixty-five percent of the manifest was made up of foodstuffs. Some trade goods, a few tanks of bacta and a small weapons caché. Oh and a kitten too - she's in a stasic-cage. Cute little thing, can't imagine she'd like this place though."

A rustle in the trees was accompanied by a low growl, heralding a chorus of bestial cries from the surrounding jungle.

"I guess a sharp exit's in order, huh?"

[Kyzer Rayne]

Foodstuffs, great. Why did the ship that was crashed on an animal filled with hostile, hungry animals have to be laden with food? Why not all weapons? Hm? Those were not so edible and harder to destroy. Foodstuffs, even locked away in two inch thick durosteel cargo crates would not last long with a pack of wild bomas. They would just bash it with their heads and takes until it opened, they were that smart. It did not matter if they could smell the foodstuffs or not, they would smell the taint of humans and just wreck the entire ship. By this time tomorrow the ship will be a rusty shamble of durosteel, deck plates, and the bit of hull on the bottom, and a lot of bomas would go back to their nests with enough metal in their stomach to build a star destroyer. God knows why they do not die from it.

Foodstuffs, the Gods know Iziz could use some fresh items on the menu then what they have now, which is mainly roots, some vegetables, and a lot of wild game meat. But after a lifetime on Iziz, even the delicacy of a tender boma pup steak grew old and tiresome. What he would give for some nerf meat. Hopefully this pilot had some in his cargo, but he was not going to ask. Save such foolish questions for another time, another place. Right now they have a shipment to protect.

"No. We stay here until we can transport the cargo to the city. This cargo is important to Iziz. We cannot leave it here to be destroyed by the beasts," and with that said he walked away from the pilot and over to the two beast riders collecting the bodies of the boma pups. "Hiyoko, Zim," The two men snapped to attention, "Head back to the city. We need reinforcements and something to get all this cargo back to the city. See if any of the passing freighters or transports have a repulsorlift we can borrow. Let them name their price, and see if you can get the 102nd out here. The Gods know we'll need them to last the night." The two men nodded and jumped aboard their boma pup laden drexls and took off, heading for Iziz.

Ten minutes later, the air patrol was reduced to three and the rest of the Beast Riders were on the ground, armed to the teeth and ready. The Drexls had been stored in the cargo hold of the ship, their slim bodies more then able to fit into the open spaces due to the crash causing most of the cargo to shift to the back of the hold. Glowrods had been found inside and set around the area outside the gash in the hull, which turned out to be the only hole big enough for anything dangerous to squeeze through. In addition to the glowrods, several small fires had been created in a half circle out from the hole, so that the warriors sitting in front of and just inside the gash would be able to see anything approaching. Spears and bows were found in the hands of the dragoons, preferring to take anything at range rather then directly with blade or fist.

There had been no word from Iziz and no reinforcements yet. Traveling at night was not impossible, just suicidal. The mounts of the Beast riders could see just fine in the dark, but their riders were no so naturally equipped. It was quite possible that no one would come till first light, but that might be too late for some of these warriors here tonight.

"How long has ferrying cargo been your trade?" Kyzer asked the pilot, who sat nearby him on the grass outside the hole. Kyzer was looking outward, continuing to scan the outside of the perimeter fires for movement, while the whole time he fidgeted noticeably with his sword.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

There was movement in the darkness, possibly several shapes moving towards the fires silently.

Then a hand held flash lit up, revealing an un-helmeted Mandalorian in full armor. "Hail the fire," she said.

[Regan Valdis]

Regan clutched at a long-barrelled repeating blaster rifle, his trigger finger relaxed. He kept his mind occupied with thoughts other than his present predicament; his company's steady flow of questions helped.

"Me? Oh I don't know really. My old man taught me everything I know about merchants, trading, bartering, stocks, antiques - even mineral surveying. I worked in a lot of different stores owned by him while I was growing up. I guess you could say I've been a tradesman all my life. As for my own set-up - thats been going steady for almost five years now. I'd say..."

Hail the fire.

The unfamiliar voice belonging to the unfamiliar face caught Regan off-guard. He was ready to light up the jungle with his weapon. But the absence of a grizzly feral creature did not warrant such gung-ho behaviour. Plus he'd since placed his weapon to one side while rabbiting on like an old lady. After glancing the armoured figure up and down, he leaned close to one of the others and idly asked in a hushed tone...

"What kind of a statement is hail the fire anyway? 'Hail the fire!' - it's like greeting a bonfire or something, it doesn't make any sense."

The beast rider gave a disapproving, or possibly baffled, look at Regan before standing up and taking Kyzers side.

"At least to me, anyway", Regan added - to nobody in particular.

[Kyzer Rayne]

Kyzer turned to listen to the pilot's story, and failed to see the deeper shadows approaching the encampment. It was not until the voice from the edge of the fire rang out that Kyzer turned to beheld the armored figure. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, and he felt those around him doing so themselves. The only thing that kept him from ordering the archers to open fire were the facts that their arrows would not penetrate typical Mandalorian steel and that the Mandaloriain in question had it's helmet off and it's hand raised, which was very untypical by Mandalorian standards.

Which begged the question: Why in the nine levels of Hell was a Mandalorian approaching them in such a fashion? Was it a trap, was it a negotiation, was it a peace offering, was it his grandma come back from the dead? There were no absolutes known at this point, which made it all the more frightening.

Kyzer ignored the pilot's mad ramblings and stood up, his sword held in his hand, but it remained in his sheath, ready to be pulled, but resting quietly nonetheless. With a flick of his hand, two of the Beast Riders, his second-in-commands Roan and Eliza, stepped up beside him as he walked half the distance between the ship and the fire the Mandalorian stood near.

"Approach the camp."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The woman did so, hands held easily at her sides. She walked with a poise born from years of fighting - a warrior's simple grace. "You have nothing to fear from me, Beastrider." Her green eyes gleamed in the firelight, a long scar running down the side of her face, bisecting her left eye.

"I lead a hunting expedition. Boma whelping season was a standard month ago and the pups are thick in these parts. My warriors reported to me the wreck, and I wished to see it for myself." Her keen eyes picked out the pilot quickly, his clothes more sophisticated than the leathers the Riders wore.

In fact, the warriors had reported that the freighter was full of food, and that they should salvage it for supplies and scrap metals. But with the current truce they had hesitated, especially since the Riders had arrived so quickly.

[Regan Valdis]

"Oh, you wanted to see my shattered dreams! Well take a good look sweetheart! That smoking wreck of junk behind me is all thats left of everything I own!"

He was exaggerating quite a bit. He still had the warehouses on Corellia, but unfortunaely they were empty at the moment. And without the ship any cargo would be useless and he'd owe a lot of money. The ship was his livelyhood. No, it was more than that - it was his home away from home. It was his pad. It was his freedom.

Well, maybe that last part was another exaggeration - his family was very wealthy. But the ship was his. It was his pride and joy. Flying around the galaxy in his own ship with his own cargo, making his own deals - that was his adventure. And now it lay crashed on the edge of a jungle on an unfamiliar and inhospitable planet where strange jungle-women held conversations with bare flame.

"I don't suppose you have a type-nine commercial tractorbeam emitter underneath that industrial bodice, do you...Miss?"

[Kyzer Rayne]

"The ship, as you can see, holds up to popular rumor," Kyzer replied, tempted to thrust out his foot to trip the pilot as he sauntered over bold as brass. This man was going to get himself killed. Onderon was not a planet you could just waltz down to the supermarket to get your meat. No, you had to go out and kill it yourself, and then sell it in the market. And going to the market could sometimes be more dangerous then the wilderness. If you bought the last Boma steak you could expect a gaggle of old ladies ready to beat you over the head with their canes to get that meat.

"Is there anything we can assist you with, daughter of Mandalore?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her lips twisted with amusement at daughter of Mandalore, and she shook her head. "There is nothing you can assist me with, Beastrider. I wish to speak with the pilot of this vessel.

"Alone."

[Regan Valdis]

Regan stepped forward slightly. The sheer unfairness of the situation tweaked at his brain, replaying the reality over and over. The disappointment he felt paled in comparison to his anger for getting himself into the whole ordeal.

"Well I don't know if I can fit you in this evening..."

He raised his hands to his head and, using his fingers, made quotation marks.

"...Daughter of Mandalore. I'll have to check my schedule - busy busy busy, you know how it is, I'm sure. A one-to-one consultation may have to wait until I can spare the time.

A nearby flame flickered in the mild breeze, glazing orange highlights across her curves that were all but hidden by the darkness.

"...ah, who am I kidding. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, it can't hurt to talk, right?" He spoke with a shrug of his shoulders as he cocked his head to one side before showing off a trademark grin. He turned back to his unnoficial companion, whose name was still a mystery to him, and slowly walked backward towards the sultry siren. He spoke in a hushed tone, trying his best not to erase the cool exterior he attempted to conjur.

"She's not...dangerous, right?"

[Kyzer Rayne]

He did not like this, not for a moment. She wanted to speak with the pilot alone, and then what? Would she and her Mandalorians kill them once they had the prize in hand? The pilot was hardly worth anything alive or dead, but the Mandalorians are crafty beings indeed and had ways of manipulating hostage situations. It was not their usual style, but they did employ such tactics on occasion.

It reeked of treachery.

But the pilot seemed willing, and Kyzer would not hold the man back from something he seemingly wanted to do. Therefore Kyzer took a step back, allowing the pilot to step forward. He quickly retreated back to where the rest of his soldiers were holed up next to the downed ship. For the hundredth time tonight he was wishing they had energy weapons with them. They had set out to hunt and patrol, not to get in a firefight with the Mandalorians they were said to be allied with at the moment.

Whatever the result of this, he and his men would fight to the death if required.

Never trust a Mandalorian...