If You're Not Wild, You're Mild!

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"She sat upon herr hog. Herr beast. Herr durrasteel warr horrse. None darred speak herr name. She blazed herr own trrail on the Outerr Rrim byways, a rrebel looking for a cause. A rronin rriding underr a bannerr of chrrome and tassled black leatherr. She was the boss of the rroad. If you everr saw herr coming, you'd best step aside. Many a young man didn't, and she brroke theirr hearrts orr brroke worrse. As the thrroaty thrrottle of herr drread machine filled the night wind, everryone up the rroad knew she was brringing Hell. She went by one name...


...NAK!"

Draiya's persistent squirrel companion hopped onto her skull bandana while she sat on the swoop bike in the cargo hold, absolutely ruining her immersion. No one was going to take her seriously with a squirrel on her head, even if she did dress like a badass. Leather on leather, studs, spikes, and chains. Gloves with spikes. Draiya glanced to one of her gleaming chrome side-view mirrors, frowning at a smudge on the glass. She leaned forward, spitting on it as she wiped it sort-of-clean with her hand.

"Hey!"

She shouted behind her, toward the cockpit where her partner was flying the ship.

"Arre we therre yet???"

[Morgan Evanar]

“Not yet.” Morgan called back. They were about an hour out from Velmor. Morgan ducked down to pass under the bulkhead. The open layout of this YT-1760 allowed easy flow between cargo bay and the cockpit.

Morgan had tried to get Draiya to tone it down as she looked more like a wanna-be from a swoop gang holo than the genuine article. Morgan himself had instead taken a more subtle tack, since he knew what swoop gangs actually looked like. He donned the jacket of a 8 Malevolent, Nal Hutta branch. Outside of the jacket he was wearing a pair of practical spacer slacks and a DL-44. It wasn’t uncommon for swoop gangs to put out safehouses on low pop homeworlds. What was uncommon was swoop gangs who used lightsabers to cut out goods from a vault.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"Hmf."

Draiya shrugged off the disappointing news, turning her eyes forward with intent determination.

"Vrrrrrrrrrr....mmmmmmmmmmmmmrrrrrrrrrrr....vrrrrro oooooooooosssssshhhh."

She stopped making engine noises with her mouth and sighed. Restless, she bounded up into the cockpit to join her partner as he finished the last leg of the trip.

"You don't talk much, Masterr Evanarr."

The jacket he'd tried to convince her not to wear was getting hot, and she shimmied her way out of it, tossing it aside as she leapt into the side seat. In a sleeveless tank now, she hitched her feet into the bucket seat, wrapping her hands around her knees.

"I'm just rready to get down therre. I'm rready forr this."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan smiled softly. Draiya wasn't his first pick, but Serena had pointed out it would give him something to keep an eye on during the mission. There wasn't much disagreement from the rest of the council. He had come out of a self-imposed exile with a degree of calm.

"We need to take it slow. We'll get their attention just by being there. Besides, we're only an hour out. And you still need to get rid of the spikes. Seriously."

She pouted.

"Draiya, real swoop gangs dress more like this." He gestured at his own garments. "You get the jacket, maybe pants, the boots, and that's it. We need to convince people of the authenticity of the whole thing." On the other hand, he did really want to give her credit for the bike. It looked about right. A little new, but about right. He would let her know after the mission. Draiya's ego was already a handful.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

She looked like he'd asked her to amputate her hands at the wrists. Draiya mournfully flexed her hands into fists, listening to the leather sigh and creak as she fashioned herself into an instrument of bludgeoning. Throwing a punch with these on would have been so kuua'i. Her turbocharged imagination sent her sailing through a seedy cantina, unseen haymakers flashing into thin air and sending pirate scum pinwheeling across filthy floors along their tenderized faces. She gave a few half-hearted jabs in her seat for good measure before those too were discarded.

Master Evanar spoke with confidence on the subject. She wondered just how much about swoop gangs he knew by happenstance, and how much was practical experience.

"They'rre prretty tough guys, huh? You'rre prretty tough too, rright?"

She gruffly appraised the elder Jedi's look. He didn't look like he was putting on a costume. He owned it. Tall, lean, and dangerous, he seemed a convincing part.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I've been in more than one scrape before and I've almost always come out better than the other guys." He stated matter-of-factly. This was akin to saying Rancors ate things or that the 2nd Death Star was a battle station. Morgan had been beaten, exposed to hard vacuum, run through, shot, stunned, poisoned and committed self-exposure to g-forces that would have permanently damaged lesser organics. He'd never been part of a swoop gang, but he'd had a few run-ins on Nar Shadda.

"Planetfall in 55."

They dropped out of hyperspace above a green and blue world. Morgan put the YT-1760 into a lazy arc. The swoop gang's last hit had been at Kel Wonnie, a town that was mainly for mineral exchange and transport. The precious minerals and gems vault had been hit and some of the contents had been lifted by the swoop gang.

They put down in a field several kilometers outside of town. A warm breeze washed up the cargo ramp, which spat out a pair of swoops.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya's restless legs bounced in her seat all the way down. By the time the landing struts connected with terra firma, she was out of her seat, hitting the ground running and heading back to the cargo hold. She'd taken his advice to heart, ditching the chains and the spikes. He'd allowed her the jacket, and she shimmied it back on as she adjusted her skull rag, snapping goggles over that to complete her attire.

The Syragori's heart thudded in her chest as she waited for Morgan to catch up. She primed the actuator, feeling the reverberations and power thrum into her bones as the swoop's power plant roared to life. The bike floated on repulsors, waiting only for her slightest command to rocket her across the landscape. She stilled her racing emotions, willing herself into the moment. That perfect moment pregnant with the cusp of action. Her antsy fingers rolled along the handlebars, gripping tight in unison as she hunched over, coiled and ready to go.

[Morgan Evanar]

There was a throaty roar as Morgan's swoop blew past Draiya. The sun threatened to fall below the horizon soon. By the time they floated into town the sky had gone from blue to grey and purple. His large silhouette gave the townsfolk pause when the pulled up into a grasslands watering hole. Draiya pulled up a moment later to see him leaning on a post. A tilt of a head toward the doors, and they walked inside a moment later.

The conversations got quieter.

"Whiskey, neat." Morgan ordered at the bar. It was a typical spaceport cantina, with some food but an emphasis on alcohol for spacers and local dock workers.

"Any preference?" The bartender asked after a moment of hesitation.

"Wells fine." The bartender nodded and looked at his young companion for a moment.

"Corellian Brandy." She said. Morgan gave her a slow nod. Morgan took a sip of the questionable whiskey, and Draiya managed to not make a face when the alcohol started it's slow burn into her body. He turned around and leaned his long frame against the bar and surveyed the room. He absently swirled his drink around in his left hand.

A patron walked up to him. Dark hair, dark skin, dockworker's uniform and union patch present.

"Those your swoops out front?" He asked.

Morgan flashed a lopsided smile. "Might be." He answered. He already knew full well that someone drunk enough was having a bad day and wanted very badly to take it out on one of the swoop jockeys.

"Might want to check your rides." The dockworker took a glance at the door.

"Huh." Morgan slammed the drink back and threw down enough to cover the drinks and a generous tip.

"The fuck you think your doing?" He bellowed at the pair of slightly rotund men who were red in the face and unfocused. One of them hit Morgan's swoop with a metal pipe. He was in the dirt under Morgan's boot faster than he could blink. Draiya kicked his partner in parts unmentioned in polite company and let him double over.

"Answer the fuckin' question. The fuck you think you're doing?"

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya settled back with a cocked fist ready to pounce on the soused idiot who had taken a pipe to Morgan's hog. The only thing that broke her war face was the fact that she'd punted the man in front of her so hard in his wedding tackle that he'd vomited on her boots. The Padawan shuffled a step back, a shocked look of gross-out on her face as she gave each boot toe a little kick in the air to flick away as much sick as she could.

Oh man, barf...on my shoes! I can't look kuu'ai with barf on my shoes!

Her attention shifted quickly as she returned to looking mean, balling up her fists for good measure as the other dock worker sputtered.

"All you sithspawn swoopers...and all the trouble you bring with you! Hope you burn in hell for what you did!"

Draiya's fierce face suddenly blanked, feeling an impetus through the force. It didn't take much to glean something from the man now writhing under Morgan's boot. Feelings of anger, sure. But pain. Not his.

Draiya pulled at Morgan's sleeve a little, shaking her head slightly. She didn't think these guys were bad guys at all.

[Morgan Evanar]

"We didn't do a gorram' thing. We just got here and some bantha-brained jackoffs have started shit? I just wanted a drink. In a quiet dive. On a quiet planet." Morgan reached down and pulled his victim up one handed.

"What colors did those Force-Fucked assholes wear?" He hissed at the now trembling man. They had to put on a show. No swooper would take this kind of attack on their bike laying down.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

The dock prole struggled against Morg's grip like a fish on a hook. He was wild-eyed and red in the face, recounting that day when everything had gone wrong.

"Blue!"

The man sprawled at Draiya's feet finished coughing out his dinner, wiping wearily at his mouth.

"And green!"

Which led to the first man nodding energetically in recollection.

"That's right! Blue and green it was! All over their jackets, their bikes. They...they called themselves the...uh...the Knights."

Draiya listened to their words, understanding the meaning underneath them. Blue and Green Knights. Backing Morgan's play, she rough-housed the other man up by his hair.

"These gangerrs, what else do you rrememberr about these jerrks?"

Fear etched plain on the mens' faces.

"They...they had lightsabers."

[Morgan Evanar]

They weren't going to get anything more. He pulled his victim's face close to his.

"Touch the swoops again and I'll kill you." He hissed, and dropped the man back to his feet. He stumbled backwards, eventually landing bottom first on the dusty street.

Draiya followed suit. The pair scrambled away from the mean swoopers. The swoops were no worse for wear aside from a few scratches, and Morgan made a nod to the ship. His swoop started with an angry growl before settling into a bass hum, and then a vicious roar as he disappeared into the horizon.

_

Back on the ship, Morgan immediately dug into the Alliance's intelligence on various gangs and matched colors. The gang in question didn't have much presence or much about them, but they were noted to exist. The trick was going to be to draw them out.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya cooled her swoop down back in the cargo hold, and immediately began to preen herself with a shop rag, removing remnants of offending mess from her boot.

"So the rreporrts arre trrue then." She mused, working the leather into a shine once more. "Some gang has found a cache of old lightsaberrs."

Tossing the rag aside, she looked to Morgan with curiosity.

"But how? You'd think those things would be underr, I dunno, lock, key, and a legion of storrmtrrooperrs in the Emprress' evil lairr bank vault."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan smiled.

"You would think. During the Clone Wars even the Jedi needed to move weapons, so there was the occasional unmarked crate of lightsabers floating around with certain military units. From what we know, the vast majority are accounted for and largely in Imperial hands, but there are a few floating around. They were easy enough for the Jedi to find, not so much for anyone else." He remarked.

Morgan pulled up a map of the sites the thieves had hit.

"They're not subtle. Since they've hit the port vaults, everything else will be diminishing returns. The mines themselves are too well defended to make a target of opportunity."

"What about a supply convoy?" Draiya asked.

"Gift wrapped for a saber wielding swoop gang. We'll need to get the schedule." Fortunately they had brought a change of clothes and could look respectable. It was just a question of going to the corporate headquarters and asking the right people.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

A look of mild disappointment crossed Draiya's features. She was sure they'd have followed the reports straight to the bad guys and settled things with advanced negotiations. Still, Morgan was probably right. You treated the disease, not just the symptoms.

After spending entirely too much time in the refresher, Draiya emerged. No longer a rough and tumble swooper, she looked nice for a change. Hair done up, earrings, and makeup. She wore a jacket and camisole and a knee-length skirt. It had been a long time since she'd dressed this way, and she felt...

"...rridiculous."

She appraised herself in the mirror, even as she turned here and there. Okay maybe this wasn't bad.

[Morgan Evanar]

They looked professional. Draiya's age might be an issue, but Morgan looked formidable in the suit. At an even two meters he would probably be able to physically intimidate whoever they needed to, but Draiya's mental mindtrick would likely take care of any gaps.

Morgan looked at his Alliance Military badge, and decided it would suffice in this scenario. Besides, it was active so they could check it as much as they pleased. This was one of the times where he had asked the question "what would Adia do." This was probably what Mom would do.

The ship lifted off and headed for Ven Delmor. It was a modest city with a modest skyline, anchored by the Royal Palace. Like many low populace border worlds, the spaceport spread out instead of up, and had the luxury of a hub design. Dawn had lit the palace, and it's tasteful golden spires glistened.

After clearing with the port authority they were able to settle into docking bay A12. Morgan remarked to Draiya that they only had 42 bays by the look of things.

Velmor Mining was the only other building that really had any weight aside from the palace at just under half the height. It was a simple office block with curved edges, and only a half kilometer from the space port, so they walked.

"I might need your hand with a Mind Trick if we get stonewalled. It's not one of my strong suits."

The desk secretary was a modestly dressed human female who, while attractive, wasn't particularly notable. She was decidedly average physically. Morgan gave her a soft smile.

"Hi. We're with the Alliance Military. I'm Mister Evanar and this is Miss Naaianeya." Morgan held his badge up. It was either an excellent fake or the genuine article. The secretary took a look at the badge but didn't press further.

"We're interested in talking to your person in charge of logistics regarding the recent mineral thefts."

"Oh. You'll want to speak to Dr. Taya Delesk."

"Could you see if they're available?" Draiya pressed. Morgan put his hands behind is back and appeared to relax.

"One moment." She paused while the earpiece light changed from red to green. "Hello Darren. We have some representatives from the Alliance here to see Dr. Delesk. She's in a meeting?" The secretary looked back at Morgan for guidance.

"We can wait for her next window." He offered.

"What time can Dr. Delesk see our guests? Uhuh. Okay. One moment." She muted the call. "Dr. Delesk has a window right after 1300 local." Morgan nodded.

Draiya smiled. "Thank you." They turned back for the door.

"Might as well get a feel for Ven Delmor." Morgan offered. "Besides, we can have breakfast."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"Surre."

Draiya nodded eagerly as they left. The spaceport was a bustling place, even at this early hour. And as much as Draiya yearned for an earnest hot pursuit, she understood her role in situations that weren't so dynamic. She was the fixer. And that too could be kuu'ai.

"I didn't know you werre in the Alliance."

She looked at his badge with no small measure of curiosity. It could've been forged, but it looked real enough.

"Have you been in many battles?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"I am still, but not active." He was a Lieutenant in the Alliance Navy as a Technical Specialist, according to the badge. Morgan's face blanked at the other question.

"I've seen things no one sane would ever desire to see." It wasn't an exact answer, but it was also true. They paced through the commercial district while they talked. Morgan didn't know Draiya aside from her impulsive reputation. Skilled, yes.

"What about you? Have you seen many battles?" It would be interesting to hear the response of a young Padawan. His nose had picked up the smell of a bakery and properly brewed caff.

"You smell that?" He interjected before she had a chance to respond?

[Draiya Naaianeya]

I've seen things no one sane would ever desire to see.

Draiya's expression morphed from surprise to skepticism. That was a pretty kuu'ai hook, but a little cliché. Still, Morgan's deadpan admission leaned it probably towards the former and most likely truth. Before the Padawan could pry on that teaser, he flipped it on her.

"Me?"

Draiya gawked. Aside from that one time. Well, he was there for that one. The Syragori shook her head.

"This is only my second mission off Sanctuarry. The otherr one wasn't rreally much fighting. Morre like rrunning away."

No one had flipped the question on her before, and the Padawan realized she'd seen more action than she'd actually considered.

"When I came to the Orrder we, well me, I got separrated frrom my family when the Empirre attacked. A guy named Ben helped me escape. I helped him rrun away. Guess I'm prretty good at rrunning away if I have to."

The stirring aromas of breakfast weren't lost on the hungry Syragori, and she locked onto the source like a missile, quickening her pace. A near constant regimen of calisthenics and martial training kept her at a nearly nuclear metabolism, and mention of food at nearly any time could be followed with a prompt yes please.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Running away is a good skill to have." Morgan acknowledged as they headed into the bakery/cafe. Draiya seemed to ponder this while they found a seat.

"What would you all like to drink? We have a large selection of caf, teas and fizzed beverages." The human waiter asked.

"Caf and water please." Morgan offered while the Syragori across from him nearly drooled.

"Well I want a chocolate pastrry and a namana pastrry and a bowl of nerrf soup and loaf of cinnamon brrread. And two nerrf sandwiches. Oh, and waterrr." She added firmly. Morgan smiled slightly, and thought for a moment.

"Go ahead and double that order."

The waiter looked at them like he was on Candid Holo.

"Really." Morgan assured him. He'd eat the loaf of cinnamon bread later.

---

After essentially 3 meals in one sitting, Morgan paid the bill. While it wasn't expensive, it wasn't dive diner credits either. He'd mark it down as an indulgence for the trip and be frugal otherwise.

"Let's not keep Dr. Delesk waiting." He said, and burped loudly. He chuckled and meekly asked to be excused. Draiya looked like she was going to explode with laughter.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"Rright." The Syragori's eyes glinted, transitioning from a bit of good times back into mission mode. The last two bites of cinnamon bread were neatly parceled into paper, pressed tight, and tucked into a pocket. Morgan gave her a sidelong glance, and the padawan shrugged cryptically. Squirrels gotta eat, too.

The trip back to Velmor Mining didn't take long, but Draiya felt as if time ran on cold treacle. She was eager, but that wasn't going to help in the here and now. Tamping down her excitement, Draiya busied herself by exploring the life energies around her. It gave her a task to focus on and also allowed her to be mindful of any potential trouble or pitfalls that might be waiting on them.

Returning to the office, Draiya waited for Morgan to kick off the questions in earnest. Again, she was the fixer. Already something didn't seem right. The Doctor was nervous.

Remaining quiet, Draiya watched as her dark eyebrows started to knit.

[Morgan Evanar]

"...so you've been hit twice?"

"Ah, yes. Twice." Delesk confirmed. Morgan frowned a little. She'd been generous with the data since confirming Morgan's position in the Alliance military. What she didn't know, and probably had banked on was that Morgan wasn't going to read all 250 pages of data, and 50 that wasn't very important. Well, except that the 50 contained exact shipment and production numbers, and since he was a numbers guy, things weren't adding up.

"Oh." Morgan frowned. He looked a bit confused.

"I'm not following. On page 62 and then on page 105 we have total losses of 896,553 credits, but if we go towards the end of the report we have total losses of 1,365,022 credits. In very fine print I might add. That leaves us with 468,469 unaccounted credits."

Delesk winced visibly.

"I'm going to guess that the supplies were raided one or two..."

"Two." Draiya confirmed.

"...times that are unaccounted for."

Delesk visibly paled.

"Doctorrr, is therre anything you'd like to add?" Draiya asked.

Delesk promptly collapsed like a sabbac card tower in a windstorm. Draiya and Morgan now had solid start on the enemy, their techniques, number and possible locations.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya watched Morgan at work like a maestro. Had it been up to her, she would have preferred a more direct approach. Direct questions that brought answers weighed by the force and possibly followed up by a frontal assault by means of searching the Doctor's mind. Morgan simply asked her to follow his lead. He did most of the heavy lifting not by use of the force, but by brute force reading and catching contradictions in writing.

"Hey."

The Jedi duo headed back to the freighter, preparing to whittle down three locations into the most likely one to stake out.

"Did you, uh, used to be a cop?"

The Syragori was intrigued by Morgan's approach. Maybe this was the sort of thing Serena had in mind when she suggested that her padawan ought to learn subtlety.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan chuckled and then ended up laughing.

"I used to be a slicer." He said through his laughter. He caught his breath.

"You use the same search for logical inconsistencies in the data and then use those to take advantage of the system. Or the person." He explained. "We're going to be be using a similar approach to figure out where our adversaries are, and what they'll probably do next."

Morgan put in the previous four hits into the map, along with times and dates. Delesk also provided the shipment schedule and her contact information in case there were any changes in the future.

"Well Ms. Naaianeya, where do you think they're going to go next?

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Time to shine. Draiya stood to the fore as Morgan parted to allow her a vantage of the map. The Syragori's dark eyes glanced from point to point, breaking only to look at the data they'd gleaned from Doctor Delesk.

"They hit this one last."

She pointed to the grid location at the top left. Sliding her finger along, she moved southeast, resting on another.

"This one they got the larrgest haul from."

Moving yet again, the Syragori traced a finger closer to the main settlements.

"This one didn't have an alarrm call. They discoverred it at audit."

The padawan's hand hovered over the fourth one, considering everything she'd stated.

"Doctorr Delesk stated this one was overrflow frrom centrral. But it was the firrst one they hit. I don't think they had a way in at this point, but that otherr one they prrobably did. Why attack some but slip past and rrob otherrs clean?"

The points on the map were more or less evenly spaced, but Draiya paid less attention to their location than to circumstances.

"Masterr Evanarr I think they'rre going back to the same one they just hit. Even if the securrity steps up, they prrobably have a back doorr in."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan nodded.

"If you've got a key to the back door, why go in the front? Velmor Mining probably doesn't consider lightsabers when managing storage locations. Put something behind a meter of duracrete and you're going to be confident that outside of a massive explosive or a very loud plasma cutter, nothing is going through. Velmor Mining hasn't figured out that last hit because they haven't done a full inventory."

He zoomed in on Draiya's choice of location and flipped from a map that provided locational data to topographic data. A building began rendered itself in exquisite detail.

"I may have liberated some of the architectural data from Velmor Mining." He said with a slightly sheepish shrug.

Draiya motioned her finger into the holo. "What about herrre?"

"Those are ventilation shafts for the mineral processing. They'd get uncomfortably hot and you'd need a full respirator, but since they exhaust to the bottom this cliff face, it's not monitored." He paused.

"So, Padawan, you wanna don your biker leathers?"

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Unable to swallow her smile at the thought, Draiya nodded to the idea.

"Let's do this!"

Mounted up once again and this time with a potential break in to thwart, the energies of the force felt alive and kinetic. Draiya shimmied into her jacket and snapped her goggles just as Morgan growled his swoop to life. The pair kicked dust, launching across the landscape to hug the landscape in a path that wouldn't take them to the nearest route to the mineral processing depot, but would do so in a manner that would keep their profile low - avoiding both the bad guys as well as any trigger-happy guards who might get spooked into thinking Morgan and Draiya were up to no good.

If they were lucky, they might even catch the criminals in the act.

The sun was nearly at zenith, and anyone manning security would think it ludicrous for a broad daylight attack to occur once they were already on alert. Draiya and Morg pulled into a tandem charge, cutting through a back canyon descent that the topo map showed would dump them off behind the cliff wall.

[Morgan Evanar]

Draiya was staggered slightly behind him to keep out of the swoop's wake. The turbulence behind the big bike could be dangerous. His eyes absorbed the terrain through darkened optics, but they were merely color commentary to the real feed as Morgan felt the displacement of the terrain through the Force. The ride was relatively uneventful. They kept a 4 meter cruise altitude and the speed to 150 klicks. They took a gentle slope that pulled them out of the canyon.

They crested the ridge that started the floodline for an ancient river that had formed the canyon below. There was enough shrub on the top of the ridge to provide good cover. They didn't see anything in the canyon below except an obvious outcropping of permacrete exhaust.

"Ration bar?" He offered Draiya, who immediately tore the food item's wrapper off and consumed it. Morgan chewed a bit more thoughtfully on his.

The pair settled into the shadows offered by the swoops, and waited.

"Now would be a good time to practice meditation. I'm not the best source of instruction on connecting to the living Force, but we can will do what we can..."

-----

Late afternoon approached. The sky was lit, but the shadows grew long in the canyon. In the distance, the whine of repulsors and growl of power units echoed off the dry riverbed. Draiya blinked awake. In an instant she was ready to ride the swoop into battle. Morgan's face was impassive as he held up one finger.

"We should wait until they've committed some of the gang to the theft. Those tunnels are long and it will take several minutes to cover that ground in the heat." Morgan explained. They watched eight of the twelve person gang don gas masks and heavier clothing.

"Now?" Draiya asked after a minute. She was going to explode. Morgan silently counted to ten.

"Now."

The swoops awakened, and they thundered down the cliff face. Morgan drew the DL-44 and blew up one of the opposing swoop's engines with a small bang.

"I'll get any runners! Disable the swoops first if you can!" He yelled over the commotion of return blaster fire. They dodged and split paths toward the cliff face. Morgan took another shot and disabled another swoop, this time the DL-44 found the repulsor array. The ganger swoop crackled, hissed and dropped to the ground. 10 more swoops to go.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya's right hand shoto sang green the moment it slapped palm. Keeping her left hand fixed on the handlebar, the Syragori dipped low in the saddle as she drew her bike around for a danger-close pass. The ganger swoops were arrayed four deep in a row, making it tidy work for Draiya to lower her blade down and to the right in a lean. She passed the bikes quick as a moment, and in her wake four pairs of stabilizer fins dropped free from their railings, red-hot slag the only testament they were ever there to begin with.

Danger!

Wide-eyed, Draiya bent back in her seat, the only thing now keeping her on her swoop were her clenching thighs. The blaster bolt had been dead to rights, and she could feel the heat on it as it sang past her forehead.

"That was close..." Draiya muttered, absolutely wide-eyed as she fought inertia to sit up again and grip the bar for another pass. This time, the Syragori was ready for the second shot, slapping it into the dust with finesse as she advanced full throttle on the marksman ganger.

[Morgan Evanar]

Draiya had made a tactical error. While she pursued her primary attacker, this left her open to the other five riders. Morgan cut throttle on his bike, and disappeared from the saddle, only to re-appear behind their attackers. He pulled a stunner from beneath his jacket and promptly put it to a swooper's neck, the familiar crackle-discharge promtly dropped the Gran like a sack garbage dropped from a Nar-Shadda scow. He turned and fired a single shot from the 44, and blew through the blaster carbine held by a Bothan. The Bothan smartly threw it away before it exploded. The thunderous boom drew the attention away from Draiya.

Morgan disappeared again, and appeared behind a pair of humans who looked slight confused since a moment ago two meters of human had been on a swoop, and now was not. They were lining up a shot on his empty bike when two massive hands shoved their heads together. One slumped immediately. The other was promptly ragdolled four meters into the air. The sound of a lightsaber cutting metal let Morgan know they were numerically even now.

"I suggest you surrender!" Morgan bellowed, his voice echoed through the canyon.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya continued to run down the gunman, and his shots against her were swatted aside without threat of injury. She was nearly on him, when he had an apparent change of heart, drawing a bead on the forward-braced fuel tank. Already committed into a bank, and without the leverage to parry the shot against her bike, Draiya followed her next best instinct, which was to leap...a second before her swoop bike exploded beneath her. Sailing in the air and still under the sway of her forward momentum, the Syragori mindfully lowered a shoulder at the point of ground's impact, rolling into an energetic tumble as she avoided the worst of the fall. Now covered with a patina of dust, Draiya popped up from a crouch to find herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

click

Draiya smiled, taking a few quick steps to advance before the ganger tossed his blaster aside, pulling something familiar from his jacket pocket. A blue lightsaber sparked to life in his hands, and he held it before her in a clumsy two-fisted grip.

"Morrgan!"

Draiya pinwheeled into a hands-free cartwheel, sailing over the ganger's obvious midsection swipe. Her agility beyond catlike through the force, Draiya sprinted up the canyon wall in full acrobatic grace as the Zabrak once again missed his mark.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan sighed and drew the DL-44 again. He casually side-stepped blaster fire from the remaining human while Draiya dodged another clumsy saber swipe. Morgan's 44 belched a bolt that hit his aggressor in the hands. An anguished cry issued from the roundish middle-aged swooper, who promptly collapsed to his knees in agony. The swooper's middle and ring fingers were mostly missing, and the blast had created a nervous system shockwave in his arms.

"Are you a betting man?" Morgan growled at the Zabrak from thirty meters. Morgan leveled the big blaster pistol at his remaining foe.

"I'm betting I'm more of a shot than you are a Jedi." The Zabrak's eyes flicked from two meters of trouble to Draiya, who he was just trying to keep the end of the saber pointed at.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

The Zabrak's hacks and slashes were easy to dodge, and Draiya could float like a butterfly against his attacks all day and he'd never graze her. That wasn't the problem.

"If you don't put that away, you'rre gonna get yourrself hurrt!"

The ganger's wild and unbalanced swipes were more a danger to himself than they were to Draiya. Her dark eyes focused hawkishly on the danger point. Every time it retreated to cock into another brutish swing, it seemed to inch closer to the man's own body out of his own irresponsible lack of discipline. The padawan prudently put distance between herself and the ganger, lowering her shoto blade to raise her off hand to her temple. In a moment, ice water dumped into the ganger's veins and he dropped his lightsaber as if the handle were live and electric. He screamed, falling into a fetal position on the ground in a sob.

"Don't...don't hurt me! Please...noooo!!"

[Morgan Evanar]

In a flash, Morgan shouldered the Zabrak into the sand and slipped a plast wiring tie around his wrists.

"Draiya, grab the ill-gotten glowsticks." Morgan stated. The Padawan nodded and set to work.

Morgan would chalk this up to a win. Sure, there were casualties in the form of fingers and concussions, but overall very little harm had befallen their foes. Morgan and Draiya acted quickly to push the carnage out of direct view from the exhaust pipe. They didn't have to wait long to greet the rest of the swoop gang. The valuables had been loaded on small repulsorsled into metal trunks, six in all. One by one, they emerged from the pipe, in fairly rapid succession. By the time the lead swooper's face was pulled out of the mask in confusion, Morgan and Draiya were upon them.

In such close proximity, Morgan's size, speed and strength were terrible to behold. Two swooper's became eighty kilo projectiles, headfirst into two others. A blaster was drawn, and Draiya's blurred hands rendered a broken wrist and a throw to the ground. There was a yell when the associated shoulder dislocated.

Morgan rounded the last container with a haymaker to the ribs. The big human's breath and impacted ribs popped. The swooper promptly lost his feet and collapsed onto his side. Morgan rolled him onto his back with an oversized foot, and lowered the other one onto his chest.

"Aw fuck." He managed through wheezed breaths from beneath a long beard with starts of grey. "Aw fuck man, you hit like a goddamn Wookie." He groaned. Morgan smiled.

"You've still got your intestines." Morgan offered.

"Can't tell." The swoop leader coughed. "Fuck."

"So who tipped you off on the sabers?" Morgan cut to the chase.

The swoop leader took breath, winced, and considered his answer.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya's body stood taut and ready, though the fight was over. She was still living in the electric moments prior, feeling the storm surge of emotion and intent swelling off the incapacitated gang members. It took discipline not to be swept up in the heady charge of it all, and as the Padawan came down from her high, she could feel Morgan's intent raining down upon the gang leader.

So who tipped you off on the sabers?

The ganger's eyes flicked left and right as he weighed rapidly shrinking options. Draiya could feel his words on his tongue, but they were retreating as instinct gave way to guile. The Syragori raised her right hand, tracing the air with two fingers.

"You want to answer his question."

Ceasing his squirm, the gang leader's face knit in confusion, looking from Draiya back to Morgan.

"I want to answer your question."

It only seemed reasonable, after all. They hadn't killed him and if he cooperated, he might just save his skin. The ganger nodded.

[Morgan Evanar]

The gang leader launched into a detailed description of who and where they received the Jedi weapons, only pausing to cough. Sriluur, a Weequay fence named something he couldn't pronounce but could write out phonetically, a drop point for the blasters and spice. He pressed the swooper for more details about the crate the weapons came in, but aside from giving a good description of a typical Clone Wars era weapons crate, there wasn't anything to it. Morgan frowned. Spice running was common enough by swoop gangs. They had to keep funded somehow, he supposed.

The Jedi picked the swoop gang clean of sabers and ranged weapons. Morgan started to examine one of the Jedi weapons while walking to their swoops. He put the saber back into his now clanking jacket. There would be time for that later.

"Let's get moving."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya had collected a few of the contraband sabers as well, and helped stow them into the saddlebags on Morgan's speeder. She didn't even feel like mourning the loss of her own bike. The mission had gone from novel and thrilling to disturbing. It wasn't simply a matter of an extremely lucky and stupid gang finding an opportunistic cache of old Jedi weapons. The mission now had a trail to follow. Draiya placed a call to local authorities anonymously, tipping off the presence of the suspected gangers as she slipped into tandem behind Morgan.

"So now we head to the drrop point? Orr should we warrn Ossus of ourr findings?"

Another strange matter eluded the Syragori. Despite her efforts to squeeze information from the gangers, all they had were coordinates. With degrees of separation severed that cleanly, there was a good chance that a professional hand was involved in the food chain.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Drop point is already cold. We need to go back to Ossus and leverage veteran expertise on the origin of the lightsabers. I mean, I can tell who made the manufactured parts but my knowledge of crystals is limited." Morgan stated.

While the problem had been solved, a larger mystery was revealed. A mystery with disturbing implications.