Living Half of a Life

Eight years before 'The Battle of Endor': Zolan

He sat in the cantina, enjoying a not-so-great bit of alcohol which th'barkeeper had sworn was Alderaanian Ruge. If it was, he smirked, it wasn't a good variety. It briefly flashed through his mind how ironic it was...him caring about what kind of alcohol it was, since for the last year, he hadn't really give a damn 'bout the booze he drank or the quantity he took in either.

In all honesty, he'd never been one who'd cared how much he had t'drink, but he always figured out ways t'keep it from getting the best of him. Now...it was all he had t'keep himself from beatin' the hell outta everyone in the galaxy.

He shifted position in the uncomfortable booth he sat in wishing th'spring wasn't sticking into his back. Vimus wasn't one who replaced his seats that often, although for th'most part he served a good drink (even if this drink was awful).

"'Ey Vimus!" he called from his seat, "What th'hell izzit gonna take f'you t'liven this place up."

There was a laugh. "Lillie goes on in two hours, Kazaar. That should 'liven things up'."

Aurelias Kazaar smirked. Lillie was a human (okay she said she was human, she was prolly a Clawdite) dancer Vimus used t'entertain his guests. She had moves...not just the ability t'dance...but she was fluid, graceful, and gorgeous.

Pale-white hair normally fell down to th'small of her back, but there were times she had it up so patrons/ooglers could drool over their drinks. And the former bounty hunter'd been doin' plenty of that the last year.

Kazaar'd never bothered t'figure out why he was doin' it (he wasn't a shrink and didn't want t'be one) but it was prolly 'cause 'Lillie' reminded him of his dead partner.

She'd been dead 'bout a year now and the bastard who'd killed her was still on the loose. Ashley'd been the one who kept Kazaar 'in check', the one who'd tempered his hardness and penchant for destruction with brutal honesty and a hardness of her own. They weren't lovers, though they'd shared beds before, but they were kindred spirits who understood each other. Gorgja'd introduced 'em together, something Kazaar was ever grateful (and hateful) for. If the Hutt hadn't've introduced 'em, they prolly wouldn't have been friends and maybe...maybe the Brentaal-raised Alderaanian could've avoided how he felt now.

Lost...empty...alone.

It was a gnawing feeling, something which wouldn't leave him, no matter how much he drank. 'Course it kept him 'in check' so he didn't hafta worry 'bout that too much.

Only times he kept himself (relatively) sober was when Vimus needed something. And th'old Zolander needed plenty o'help at times. 'Specially when those Clawdite gangsters had tried t'rough the place up a bit ago. He'd gone t'Kazaar (who by reputation was known for his brutality) for help.

And Kazaar, pretty much, drank free from then on. Oh...he still got charged f'it...but he never saw an invoice. He wasn't really sure who paid for his drinks...maybe it was Vimus, maybe it was 'Lillie' (he'd helped 'er out a couple times too).

After all...he normally just sat 'n drank and didn't raise too much of a fuss. Unless someone tried t'mess with either 'Lillie' or Vimus, then there's be a lotta trouble.

But people would come t'him with bounties from time t'time, especially Gorgja.

The Hutt still hoped his former #2 hunter would start workin' again...and not just 'cause of the money he brought in. It was th'fact Gorgja actually cared (as much as he could) about Kazaar. He hated t'see him dying inside. But he could only help Kazaar if Kazaar wanted him to.

Which he didn't.

Even so...Gorgja knew this bounty was a good one for the drunk bounty hunter. The tall, slightly muscular man raised his alcohol-hazed black eyes towards the entrance t'the saloon as the couple came in. They weren't much, the woman looked as though she were completely out of place here and the husband wasn't someone who prolly visitted places like this either.

More'n likely, Kazaar figured, they'd minded their own as much as possible. Wifey prolly did needlepoint or something.

They came towards Kazaar, their eyes flicking from one of the bar to another.

Then the couple stopped before the bounty hunter's booth and the husband spoke in a hushed, nervous tone.

"Y-you're Kazaar right?" A puff of smoke from Kazaar and he motioned his head for th'two t'take a seat. "W-we need y-your help, sir."

He still didn't speak, so the husband took it as a comment t'continue.

The wife picked something out of her pocket. It was a photo of a young girl, no more than eight. Her wide, blue eyes were full of life and she was missing a tooth from her mouth.

"Thi-this is our daughter... Slavers t-took her three days ago.

"W-will you find her?"

A sip from his drink.

"Why?" Kazaar's guttural voice shook the two. "What'd you guys do t'deserve it?"

The woman was distraught...sure wasn't fakin'. "NOTHING!" she almost shouted, "She...she was taken from school. She's only seven!

"I don't know why!" the woman wailed.

The husband spoke, "We don't know, sir. We-we-don't know. Please...we'll pay you what you want, even though we don't have much.

"Gorgja said y-you would help us."

Kazaar took a drink from his glass finishing the 'ruge'. Gorgja always knew what bounties Kazaar'd take these days. And payment made it a bit better.

"What's 'er name?"

The husband had hope in his voice, "Kammi."

A puff from th'cigar and a nod. "Awright...gimme three days. You'll get 'er back."

The Alderaanian strode from the dilapidated saloon, his pace taking him towards the inner areas of the city. He tried not to spend too much time on the streets, mainly preferring the coolness of Vimus' saloon and the view of 'Lillie's fine figure. But he hadda job t'do and little time to accomplish it. 'Specially when it came t'slavery.

Child slavery was always a testy thing with certain people and cultures and while Emperor Palpatine never really frowned 'pon slavery , when it involved those aged 0-10 wasn't always looked kindly upon. Especially for those who wanted slaves for rather...unflattering reasons.

Slavery on Zolan was mainly done t'keep the Clawdites from taking control of th'planet. It was rumored they were sold t'various ganglords and high-ranking Imps who (supposedly) needed them for infiltration and spying. Trandoshans also involved themselves in slaving, especially human slaves- which were the most prevelant of slaves (along with Twi'leks and Wookies).

It'd be the Trannies, Kazaar'd start with and he knew who he'd talk to first.

**********************************

Redikut the Younger moved quickly from his store in the Zolan city. The Rodian spent most of him time as a low-level info broker and part-time seller of useless junk. He tried to keep to himself, easier to keep his beady-eyed head on his shoulder, but he always kept his ears.

He was just about to pick up a portable copy of the latest HoloNet, when he spied Kazaar. The drunkard of a bounty hunter was walking straight towards him with fire in his eyes.

Redikut let out a yelp in his native language and ducked into an alley. After he'd sold Kazaar some bad info a year ago, Redikut tried to avoid Kazaar as much as possible. Especially since Kazaar was known for having a long memory on...certain things.

The Rodian pulled an older model small hold-out blaster from his belt. He doubted it'd hurt the human, but Redikut hoped it'd delay him just a bit. He back up and waved his blaster from left to right. He's got to be somewhere! Redikut thought, just as he bumped into a solid object behind him.

And it wasn't a wall.

The orange-skinned Rodian slowly turned. If he'd been human he would've clenched his eyelids together, hoping (and praying) it wasn't what he thought it was. 'Course it was. Aurelias Kazaar, his arms crossed and his black eyes glaring down at Redikut.

"K-Kazaar!" Redikut tried t'give as best of a smile as he could in badly-accented Basic, "I-I have your cred-"

"Stow it Redikut!" Kazaar's brusque voice cut him off. The Rodian could smell th'alcohol on his breath (did the man ever not drink!) and it made him sick. "I wanna know 'bout who th'slavers 'round here are."

Redikut dropped his blaster and raised his hands in and attempt t'look innocent. Kazaar asking about slavery wasn't good. It normally meant lot of deaths. Lot of violence. In another time Redikut might enjoy it, but he was more concerned with his own skin right now.

"I-I don't know Kazaar!" he tried t'sound honest, "I only try to be in-involved with n-normal smuggling. Spices and stuff."

Kazaar rolled his eyes. Why th'frack did they always hafta lie? He strode forward, his body dwarfing the smaller Rodian who didn't bother t'run. Five minutes later, Redikut the Younger was suffering from a severe bout of nausea and agoraphobia. 'Course being dangled from a five-foot tall roof had nothing at all t'do with it.

"Start talkin' Redikut," the gutteral voice of Kazaar spoke from behind him. "M'arm's getting tired.

The info broker was actually happy he was only lookin' atta five-story drop. Last time he'd crossed paths with the bounty hunter, he'd gotten a broken arm. This was a frackin' blessing.

"Awright. All right!" The info broker was exasperated. "I'll talk!"

Kazaar didn't move from his position.

"You damn fool!" Redikut yelled, deciding if he was gonna die he might as well get his money's worth, "It's the Crimson Eclipse who do slavery over here! They're the ones who have the girl you're-'eep!'

Redikut was so nervous he'd forgotten the vengeful Alderaanian hadn't even mentioned a girl. Now he was royally fracked. The look in Kazaar's eyes wasn't pretty. "Ya care t'expound on that?"

"Yeah," Redikut replied, "They have a tunnel near Reboi's Parts. It leads to their caves. That's where they keep their slaves. An-and Kazaar....They've got some good tech there. You won't make it you know."

Kazaar gave a smirk. "Bah! See you in hell, Redikut."

He let go of his hold of the orange-skinned Rodian. When the *splat* sound of a body connecting with pavement, Kazaar had a pretty good feeling Redikut the Younger wasn't gettin' up ever again.

The smirk still on his face, Kazaar lit a strong cigar, and started towards Reboi's Parts and 'The Crimson Eclipse'.

Kazaar had one stop t'make before he headed towards Reboi's Parts.

With nary a sound, the bounty hunter slid into the flophouse which contained his 'bed'. It really wasn't a great place t'live, the lights hardly ever worked and the bed was more of a pad. Plus there was always a chance that when it rained there'd be water all over th'floor, getting everything from clothes t'weapons t'Kazaar's treasured cigars and booze soaking wet. The Bishwag of an owner was always sending out notices sayin', "It'll be fixed next week", but it never was.

On th'other hand questions were hardly ever asked so Kazaar was fine with the flophouse- water 'n all. 'Sides...he'd invested inna airtight humidor a week after he moved in so he hadn't lost any of his cigars since them. Plus that one Ortolan who tried t'take his booze got his squishy nose almost broken by Kazaar when he'd been discovered. Kazaar'd been left alone after that.

The bounty hunter spied what he'd come for as soon as he entered his sleeping place, a short vibrosword he'd named 'Dagny' after a woman he and his family knew on Brentaal. It was as tough as she was and he used it when he needed t'get up close 'n nasty with those he fought. Like these Trandoshan Slavers were gonna find out.

As he left the flophouse, his grey All-Temperature trenchcoat started flapping in abrisk wind that'd suddenly kicked up. Th'trenchcoat would not only protect him from any sorta weather which might pick up (like this frackin' wind) but also kept anyone from spyin' his weapons (both the sword and his silver Bryar Pistols).

Kazaar strode through th'streets leading towards th'tunnels of Crimson Eclipse. He was inna pretty sour mood, since his drinking'd been interupted and wasn't in th'mood to delay his search for th'girl. 'Course, the promise of creds helped too.

His pace slowed just a bit when he got closer to the larger parts store and Kazaar let his gaze take in his his surroundings. The store itself was a two-story building, made of stresscrete and wood. It had large glass windows and a large blinking sign which stated in cool letters 'We Have Fusion Cutters'!

Kazaar gave a smirk...he'd need t'get one of those at some point.

His alcohol-clouded black eyes spied th'hunched Trandoshan beggar sitting by the sewer system. The thing was trying t'keep himself from being seen, even though he had t'be about six feet tall. Kazaar pulled his hands from his pockets and looked left t'right. No one else was on th'street...just the 'beggar'. He moved quietly forra man of his size and got closer to the Tranny.

The beggar suddenly made a start, and began to turn. He'd smelled Kazaar's cigar. But that was okay...the bounty hunter wanted him t'smell it. Wanted him t'feel it coming.

His arms wrapped around the neck of the Tranny and with a *grunt* Kazaar pulled him towards an alley by the parts store. The two struggled for control, the large human not bothering t'use any of his weapons. He relied on his wits to conquer his foe...even in his alcohol-addled state. He then noted something interesting...the Tranny's arms went from leathery and reptilian to a more-human-like form (even if they kept their green color). Eventually, the beggar went limp and Kazaar spied the reason for the change.

It was a Clawdite.

The shapechanger lay unconscious on the permacrete street, obviously a look-out for his slaving masters. No one else was on th'street...just he and the look-out.

The bounty hunter smirked and started rummaging through th'alien's belongings. He didn't find much: a small hold-out blaster quickly discarded, an ID saying she (it turned out) was named 'Riz Lemur', a computer spike, a glowrod, and a small pouch of credits (no more than 30).

He shook his black-haired head. Whatever th'slavers were paying th'Clawdite it wasn't much. Even with Zolan's decent economy it was tough forra Clawdite t'make a living. He should kill 'er and be done with it, but Kazaar had a thing 'bout hurting girls...he didn't like doing it and he did his best not to. So he tapped her scaly cheek twice. Lemur (if that was 'er name) suddenly threw her eyes open and tried t'run, but Kazaar wouldn't let 'er.

"Listen t'me girl," his guttural voice was sharp, "Ya wanna live...find another job." His eyes flashed and he let 'er go. He thought she might fight, but instead the Clawdite ran off down the street, disappearing as quickly as she could.

The bounty hunter ran a hand through his head, then strode towards th'sewer system and hopped into the dank sewers. He turned his glowrod on and scanned his surroundings. He spied it...a hole in the mostly-brick wall leading to a rock tunnel. No sentries were present, but Kazaar hadda feeling they were around somewhere. His ears picked up voices as they came closer t'his position. It was a series of hisses and growls mixed with Basic of some sort.

Kazaar pressed himself against the slimy brick of the sewer and slipped as far from the opening as he could. The voices got closer and the bounty hunter tried t'make himself as small as possible.

"Arrre we sure things arrre clearrr?" one voice spoke.

"Yesss," another one hissed, followed by more hisses and growls.

"The girrrrl's buyers sssshould be here in a few hourrrs. Crrrei willl love his new girrrrl..."

Kazaar clenched his fist as he heard the name of Kimiiki Crei. The albino bastard had just started t'make the switch from bounty hunting t'being a crime lord and had all ready grabbed a couple pieces of pie in th'galaxy. The fact he was getting into slaving only made it worse. He put his hand on his vibrosword and started t'walk forward.

The two Trandoshans turned around as they either heard or smelled him, and pulled their blasters.

"Hey guys," Kazaar's voice went from guttural t'a clearer voice, inflecting a Coruscanti accent. "I'm with Crei...I'm here for the girl."

He smiled as the two stared at him for a moment. They shrugged at each other and one of them asked. "You're earrrly."

"Hate being late, pal," another smile (which was hurting his face), "The Velvet Gangster wants his stuff fresh."

Another glance between the two Trannies. "Okay...let'ssss go..."

Kazaar let the two guide him down the tunnel towards the Crimson Eclipse compound.

They traveled down a small maze of rock tunnels. A series of smaller man-made caves branched off from the tunnel, each barricaded by a durasteel door. Even behind the thick steel of one of the doors, Kazaar's ears picked up a 'moan' of some sort. It was followed by a *whipping* sound and another 'moan'.

He made note t'visit that particular chamber later on...

One of the slavers must've seen his black eyes glance at th'noise. "That'ssss wherrrrre we keep thosssse who are uncooperative. Salla alwayssss getsss them to be...more cooperative."

The bounty hunter kept his body in check, preventing his hand from reaching for either his 'Dagny' or 'The Twins'. They would come into use later. Instead, he gave a nod and a knowing smile, as if he'd dealt with 'uncooperative slaves' in a similar fashion. Kazaar briefly scratched the side of his head.

"So Salla spends time with everyone?"

A serpentine smile, "Yessssss. It issss why he'ssss the besssst."

A nod from Kazaar.

"You sssshall meet him later. He conductssss our bussssinesssss."

This caused Kazaar t'raise a black eyebrow in question.

The Tranny gave an almost shrug, "He'sss the bessssst."

As Kazaar nodded t'the words, his sharp eyes kept watch of his surroundings. They'd passed by another smaller cave, this one containing an unlit firepit, stocked with wood. Around it appeared t'be at least 10-12 bedrolls. He hadn't seen any other rooms with bedrolls, so he figured there were prolly a max of 12 slavers at the compound as much as possible.

That'd make the odds pretty good, Kazaar smirked inwardly.

They'd come to a larger cave, it appeard t'be a place where business was conducted in one way orra 'nother. A larger wooden table sat in th'middle of the room and there was a large Trandoshan (carrying a rather deadly lookin' repeating blaster) standing next to it.

At the far end of the room, a medium-sized door, made of durasteel, stood. Further inspection showed the door had a small, rectangular eyehole where 'merchants' could 'inspect' their purchases. "Wait herrrre," one of the Trannies said before he disappeared back down th'hall.

As the bounty hunter waited, the two other Trandoshans walked towards each other and started talkin' in hushed tones. Kazaar didn't know a ton of Dosh but he knew bits and pieces of it.

Tranny One, "*Growl* *hiss* weapon check *grunt*?"

Tranny Two, "No. *Hiss* *Hiss* respect him."

Tranny One, "*Long growl* *longer hiss*."

Tranny Two, "*long, threatening hiss*".

Kazaar only smirked and lit another dark cigar with a black butane lighter. The flavor helped cancel out the dankness of th'caves and also cooled his hot blood. He was aching forra fight now, the desire t'show these slaving huttspits what it was like to have t'face someone willing t'fight back, t'keep themselves alive, instead of sittin' back and getting killed. Those kinda people (the frackin' gullipuds, Kazaar had no use for. Far as he was concern...they were alll ready dead).

"Ah hello," an almost cultured voice came from the entrance as a taller, refinely dressed Trandoshan male stood (two other Trannies behind him). Kazaar was almost impressed by his ability t'speak Basic without an accent.

"You must be Crei's representative...I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Kaz," Kazaar replied using th'name he'd been given while in Imperial prison, "You must be Salla."

"Indeed," Salla replied, "Very well. I assume you wish to inspect the merchandise before proceeding with purchase?"

The bounty hunter answered with a nod and Trandoshan motioned for Kazaar t'follow him to the door behind the table. He pulled open the eye-hatch and told Kazaar t'look inside.

He didn't see much; the room was dark and didn't have a bed, table, or any other sort of furniture in it. But in the corner, Kazaar's eagle eyes spied the figure of a young girl, her tiny hands wrapped around her knees where she sat. Blue eyes, containing all sorts of innocence peered from over the knees, as if waiting for her fate.

Kazaar'd found Kammi.

He let out a grunt as Salla stated quite plainly next to him. "Shall we begin negotitations?"

It was then Kazaar's short vibrosword, 'Dagny' came from its scabbard and towards the Trandoshan slavers' neck.

Salla saved himself only barely.

As the blade passed towards his neck, he jerked suddenly to his right, avoiding the main portion of the blade but still taking a rather deep cut to the side of his thick neck. As he fell towards the floor, Salla put a massive arm on the hilt of Kazaar's vibrosword. It spun from the bounty hunter's hand, falling beneath the Trandoshan as he landed with a *thud* on the cave floor.

Salla grasped at his neck, trying t'stop the bleeding, out of the fight.

Th'other Trannies weren't as lucky.

The initial response t'an attack was something Kazaar'd seen plenty of times...Fight or Flight... ...Live or Die...

The Trandoshans, though they outnumbered Kazaar 6-to-1, with four others somewhere in the surrounding Zolan city, paused at the shock of the brazen attack. They were used t'seeing various slaves attempt t'struggle while they were bound in chains, but they'd never seen anyone lay a hand on their leader.

And then, in one fluid motion, Kazaar pulled 'The Twins' from his shoulder holsters. They'd been a part of Kazaar's arsenal since he plucked them off some damn fool of a hunter who'd tried t'claim a bounty from someone all ready in Kazaar's possession. He'd killed the sithspawn, then noticed the gorgeous blasters on the dead hunter's corpse. An all-too familiar smirk came t'Kazaar's lips as he'd reached down and felt the pearl-handles around his own fingers.

As Kazaar aimed the twin blasters towards the Trandoshan slavers, he remembered Ashley's sultry, laughing voice when Kazaar told her he'd named them after both his mom and her. "Oh Aurelias...you really are a mess."

The human's black eyes flashed in rage, his face a mask of ferocity and bare-knuckled tenacity. A roar emerged from Kazaar's lips, one of challenge and the desire of battle and death.

Whether it was his death or those of his opponents...no one knew. Kazaar unleashed death upon the six slavers, his blasters firing round after round at their bodies. One of them, the large hulk offa Tranny, somehow managed t'pull his own blaster and caught Kazaar right in the right pectoral muscle, before falling limply on the cave floor.

The dispenser of death's smirk was ugly as he gazed at the carnage around him. Lizardhead lay sprawled out all over the cave floor, the horror of the ordeal all on their face. As Kazaar holstered 'The Twins', Salla plunged a vibroblade into Kazaar's left thigh. Blood streamed from th'wound and the bounty hunter almost lost his balance. He lifted his left leg and promptly smashed a booted foot into the Trandoshan Slave leader's snout. The slaver fell back t'the cave floor stunned and didn't move.

The Alderaanian, raised on the harsher world of Brentaal, retrieved his own vibrosword from the cave floor and gave an ugly sneer. Then he stalked towards several cargo containers near a computer console. The containers were large enough t'hold a human body and were all ready labeled with an address of some sort.

A Trandoshan Address, Kazaar noted, before pulling one open.

He discovered 'bout 500 credits within the container (prolly from some other transaction earlier) and promptly pocketed them. Drinking money f'later...part of th'rent too.

His black eyes scanned th'room again, noting none of the slavers had bothered t'rise from their prone positions (not even Salla). Deciding he had little time, Kazaar investigated th'rest of the compound for any other slavers who might've heard the commotion. So far, no one had shown up, but ya never did know. Kazaar'd once had a squad of Gammoreans show up late from a night of drinking while he was killing their boss.

That'd gone real well, he winced at the memory.

The bounty hunter's strides were slightly gimpy, the wound in his leg starting t'bleed a bit more, as his strides took him towards the room he'd heard screams come from. There was no keypad t'open it, just a simple metal bolt which Kazaar quickly threw open with his arms.

As the stench of raw sewage and decomposing bodies assaulted his nose, Kazaar wished he hadn't opened th'door. The room was about as large as the one where he'd slaughtered the Trandoshans. At the far end, a stream (clearly an off-shoot of the sewage system just outside the caves) ran through it with two gates blocking both ends. There were bodies everywhere. Most of 'em were in the actual water (Kazaar made a note not t'curse any more sewer workers), but several lay in a pile by th'stream. He saw a button by one of th'grates and pressed it. A mechanical *whirring* came from the floor as the bodies were dumped into the sewage by a conveyor of some kind.

Kazaar shook his head. This was no way f'slaves t'die.

Then his eyes caught th'figure in the middle of the room. She had t'be only 18 , but she'd been chained and beated pretty hard. What was left of her face wasn't much...it was a mess. She wasn't alive, but the Alderaanian wondered who she was.

There was a tattoo on her waist, a krayt dragon. If she'd been alive it woulda looked pretty. Now it just off-set the pastiness of her skin.

Kazaar unhooked the body from the chains and let her lie on the ground. He shook his head and he felt his blood start t'boil. The bastards! The chuff-sucking sons of bitches! He hated it when guys busted up dames...slaves or not.

In his rage, the bounty hunter almost missed the flash of a shadow against the pale skin. He rolled back against the wall, as three bowcaster bolts slammed into the cave floor. Salla stood at the entrance of th'room, his neck slick with blood. The Lizardhead uttered a *hiss* and fired again, this time grazing the bounty hunter's shoulder with the blast.

Kazaar moved quickly, his muscles tensing like coils, as he leaped towards the slaver. Pulling the vibroblade from his thigh (a gush of blood springing from his leg), Kazaar stabbed Salla in the stomach as the two went tumbling into the corridor. They rolled over and Kazaar knocked the bowcaster down the hall.

"You bastard!" he shouted as he grasped at the Tranny's neck, before sending him headfirst into th'rock wall. "Ya think your Scorekeeper gives a damn about how many people you murder! You frackin' son of a..."

Salla's clawed hand came up and he drove his talons into the wound on Kazaar's leg. They both went down again, in a heap of arms and legs. Kazaar's thumb came out of the din and he plunged it into Salla's eyes, effectively ending the fight. But he wasn't done yet.

"Ya think you can torture defenseless people?" The black-haired man's face was a mask, "Ya think you can just hurt 'em without payment. I've got ya frackin' payment right here!"

He pulled Salla by the neck back into the room where his cohorts still lay dead. On one of them, Kazaar found four metallic staves, about as long as his forearm. He picked them up and smiled wickedly at the delirious Trandoshan.

"Guess what pal...ya get t'feel real pain."

It took a few minutes f'him to string Salla up, but Kazaar got it done. The Tranny was hung up on the far wall by the four staves (one in his right arm, one in his left, two in both knees). In another part of the room, Kazaar found a small medkit where he placed bacta patches on both his and Salla's wounds. "I want ya t'be around when ya see what I'm gonna do," his guttural voice was full of anger and Salla only gave a weak moan in response.

Kazaar went about beheading the dead slaver bodies with his vibrosword. He placed their heads in the cargo container he'd found earlier and smirked each time he did it. It gave him a thrill t'see them go into the container, knowing they'd been sent off to the Crimson Eclipse's masters on Dosha. Maybe it'd send a message t'em, Kazaar didn't know or care. All he knew was it'd send a message.

It was just he and Salla now, the lead Trandoshan 'negotiator' still hanging by his limbs on the wall. The torturer popped his knuckles and wrists as he sauntered towards th'soon-to-be dead slaver and gave a smirk.

He started at th'Tranny's knees...removing them first with two quick strokes from Dagny. Then one arm and the next. He then dragged Salla's torso towards th'cargo container where the rest of his 'companions' were.

"I hear ya Trannies can regrow ya limbs...I wonder if ya can regrow a head."

With a *thunk* the blade of Dagny swung down, removing Salla's head from his torso. It plopped into the container and all was still.

Kazaar cleaned both his blade and his bloodied hands on a towel which lay on the wooden table. Then he threw open the door where Kammi was being held. She'd moved from her original position near the wall, into the center of the cell. Her hands were clasped together and her blue eyes rising to meet the towering figure.

Kazaar's eyes caught some sorta religious symbol in her hands and he knew why she'd been taken.

The girl's face was questioning but she didn't speak.

"Your parents have been looking for ya, Kammi," Kazaar's voice was soft and he smiled at her and her innocence. The girl crawled up into Kazaar's jacket, burying her face into his left shoulder.

They left in silence.