2405/Desert Tango

Desert Tango
Date of Scene:	08 June 2015
Location:	Faraway Galaxy <FG>
Synopsis:	The Servant Archer attempts to claim the bounty set forth on Juno Eclipse's head. He springs his trap on the desert planet of Tatooine, only to find unexpected resistance...
Cast of Characters:	428, 664, 731, 778

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Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Welcome to the desert.

The arid world of Tatooine is most certainly a desert planet, systematically baked by its twin suns. Simmering by day and frigid by night, there's little in the way of relief for people scratching out an existence in its sands. There is no temperate medium – even the shade is hot, by day, and there's little warmth by night.

Night it is, though, and some of the structures of Mos Eisley's spaceport are still lit. It's not exactly the kind of nightlife one might expect of Nar Shaddaa, but there are still cantinas and entertainment here, and plenty of alcohol for the undiscerning palate.

Even some of the scrapyards are still open, with neon signs advertising various honestly-acquired parts at affordable places! They're probably lying. But desperation will drive everyone to desperate measures.

That's why one ex-Imperial and now rebel, Juno Eclipse, formerly known to many by her callsign 'Blackout,' is found in one such scrapyard. She's haggling with the junkyard's owner; a scrawny-looking Rodian, arguing heatedly over the price of a few components she's clutching in her right arm, and some manner of fuel in a container at her feet.

She does pause to look over her shoulder every so often, but her movements are stiff and awkward, as though her shoulder hurt somehow; she's obviously favouring that arm, and her arm is folded against her chest, as though her ribs hurt. Dislocated shoulder, possibly, and broken ro cracked ribs. Fun times.

Juno's wearing the gear she's favoured as mercenary, functional and not as encumbering or hot as it could be in a place like this – black halter top, white tunic-like shirt, reinforced short leather jacket, over dark leggings, scuffed combat boots, and two blasters, one at each hip. Her hair's pulled back in a loose horsetail, and there are shadows under her eyes and a twitchiness to her movements that suggest she hasn't slept much or well for a very, very long time.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen is standing nearby, watching Juno haggle with the Rodian. He sizes it up, hand drifting slowly toward what is hidden within his jacket. Much like Juno, Galen has decided on some different garb. A blue t-shirt under a black jacket, gray pants and gray boots. Of course there's no disguising his face, as he's a very distinctive individual, but in a lot of ways he doesn't want to be hidden. Hiding means he's afraid, and fear is the path to the dark side.

Not that he's not able to use a little bit of... persuasion if he needed. He was no saint, no Jedi. But he wasn't a Sith either. What he was... it was something he didn't know yet.

"Listen," he says, "As much as I love watching her argue, I'm gonna have to ask that you give us the price she wants." He holds out a hand, lightning sparking across his fingers. "I really dislike having to get violent recently. I'm in a little bit of pain from a previous encounter, you see. So agree, or we'll test your shock resistance until we leave with what we need free of charge." He steps closer, leaning his face closer to the scrapyard's owner.

"Understand?"

Archer of Brown (664) has posed:
Though this place may be lightyears away from Earth, the man in the wide-brimmed hat can't help but find certain similarities between the two worlds, or at least, a certain part of his. A town in what they'd call South Dakota, these days. It was a lot like this place. It was a shithole, especially in the summer. You could smell all the worst parts of humanity there, and not just in a literal sense. The cigarillo, hand-rolled, burns slowly as he listens to the music of the cantina.

Pazaak, the local offshoot of Blackjack, occupies his interest long enough for him to outstay his welcome. In so doing, the place only becomes more like home. Glares and scowls from those looking to test their mettle, whispered asides regarding his skill with a 'blaster.' Surreptitious peeks from floozies looking to cause trouble of a different kind. Worried glances from the barkeep. The man in the wide-brimmed hat checks a pocketwatch, a classic timepiece from a more dignified age. Perhaps, the clock's face tells him, it's time to quit the pleasure and get down to business. "Gentlemen," he says to the other fellows at the pazaak table. He tips his hat to them – then walks, backward, out of the establishment. He smiles, thinking of the old adage 'fool me once.'

The mark is one Juno Eclipse, Imperial pilot. Outside of her ship she should be easy game, although he's not really the bounty hunting type. It's more... curiosity that drives this. There's been a lot of chatter on the radio about Juno and her little friend Starkiller. People don't pay the kind of money offered up for their capture without good reason. And with Vader always looking out for them, maybe they can't speak up as freely as they might should.

The man in the flat-brimmed hat can help with that. A little stroll through the desert town's streets, trying to match faces to pictures. The Servant's eagle eyes dart from body to body, scanning quickly and efficiently. Maybe he radiates the bounty hunter vibe, or maybe it's just the whole living legend thing – but some people kind of edge away from him as he searches. He doesn't search for long – haggling in the night is easy to pick out.

Looks like Eclipse and Starkiller. Good. "How about getting violent with someone who can fight back, friend?"

Kyle Katarn (778) has posed:
A disturbance was felt in the Force not long after that mess in the Crystal Valley. Tatooine, the sweaty armpit of the Outer Rim systems, is a world known well by Kyle Katarn, unfortunately. As he made arrival to the system on a hunch, the rebel and Jedi seems content to wait it out from afar, watching from the window of a cantina as the drinks are passed around and the patrons give him plenty of cover.

The Imperials are also out in force, hunting for any suspicious individuals charged with treason against the Empire. Ever since they occupied this world, it's been harder and harder for scum and villainy to hide without paying lip service to the Imps.

Luckily Kyle's much cannier than your average thug with a blaster.

He pays for his drink before long, making it towards the scrapyard when he senses more than a bit of conflict going on.

He isn't Lowri Revan-Shan, but Kyle still has reason to give a damn about these two ex-Imperials, whether their appreciate his shadowing them or not.

the Bounty hunter toting slugthrowers will hear a blaster being cocked and pressed against the back of his head, and Kyle keeps the weapon steady as he clears his throat. "Sorry hoss, you're gonna have to wait another day to go after these two."

What is it they call these sorts of situations? Something something showdown?

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Rodians might not speak Galactic Basic very well, but they can usually understand it enough for it to be fluent, or close enough to it to make very little difference. The alien creature visibly pales, blanching at the implicit threat that sparks and dances across the former Sith's hands.

"Galen." Juno turns her head slightly, cocking a warning eye at her companion. Apparently she doesn't appreciate him jumping right to threats; the look she gives him, while appreciative for the intent, is clearly annoyed at the methodology involved. "It's alright. He's got to make a living out here, too. I'll pay," she sighs, grimacing as she moves the arm she's favouring to her belt, passing over a credit chip.

Her hand freezes halfway there, and even the alien looks up, clearly not expecting any extra company this late at night. Juno's mouth twists into a hard line, a scowl of aggravation and alarm. She's beyond exhausted, in pain, and now she's going to lose the goods she's just finished haggling for while they flee.

Somewhere between Juno noticing and scowling, a blaster's made its way into her right hand, and she brandishes the weapon – only for it to droop slightly. There's someone behind the gunman with the black powder weaponry...

...He looks a little familiar, too...

"I suppose I could ask you to simply let us go, but I doubt you're going to do that." Juno sighs through her teeth, wincing slightly at the deep breath. Her ribs are still bothering her; cracked, one of them probably broken, and it's excruciatingly painful, to go by the lines of tension that simple gesture brings. She's already backing slowly away, abandoning the things she'd just spent so much time and effort trying to haggle down. "Galen..." Now's a good time to run, her apprehensive tone seems to say.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Man, Eclipse. Stop being a buzzkill. That's the look he gives her, but he says nothing, pulling back and allowing the lightning to peter out. "Fine, fair enough," he says, "I wasn't actually gonna hurt him, you know..." He turns away from the Rodian, right into a man with...

That hat is INCREDIBLE.

As another man approaches and places a blaster barrel to the would-be hunter's head, Galen eyes that hat. He smirks, stepping between the man and Juno, hand reaching into his jacket. He can sense something through the Force, but he keeps quiet. "Nice hat," he says, "Hand it over and I won't leave you as a scorch mark in the sand. Good deal, right?" he asks. He keeps his hand in his jacket pocket, curling it around the hilt of his saber. He can hear Juno getting aggravated, but some things a man just has to do.

And stealing fancy hats from assassins... is probably not one of them. But hey.

Archer of Brown (664) has posed:
Archer sighs. At least he has some advance warning, this time. "Your iron close enough to my brains, son?" It's certainly not Jack, of course, but, being shot in the back of the head isn't an experience he wants to relive. "I ain't even drawn on 'em yet." His hands slowly raise into the air, eyes locked onto Starkiller and Juno. "So what's the story? Long lost friends? Rebel sympathizer? Need the money to save the family farm? Don't suppose it matters none. From where you're standing, I imagine it looks like you got the advantage."

"Can't let you two go just yet, not that it's anything personal. Son, you mind letting me hand over my hat? Thanks." Without bothering to wait for a response from Katarn, Archer removes his hat and offers it over, holding it outstretched with his other hand up. From the hat fall five playing cards. One of them falls face down in the sand. The others are, in order, the eight of clubs, the ace of spades, the ace of clubs, and the eight of spades. "Oh, would you look at that."

An ominous wind blows over the assembled Elites. Archer reads his hand aloud: "Dead Man's Hand." It's hard to explain the change that occurs after he speaks the words, but... everything seems meaner, more cruel, somehow. The air is colder, the shadows longer. A malfunctioning protocol droid on sale for cheap at the Rodian's stand suddenly begins speaking backwards.

It happens in a flash – literally. The droid's central processor goes violently, sending white-hot sparks from its visual receptors. Whether or not the sparks actually harm anyone, the hunter uses the distraction they provide to his advantage, diving aside to duck behind a closed market stall.

Kyle Katarn (778) has posed:
"Allies I can't afford to lose." Kyle explains, prodding the back of Archer's head with his Bryar's muzzle. The weapon is pointed just in the right way for a shot to go right through the back of his head and out the other end, leaving behind a nasty smoking hole where once lay most of Archer's weathered features.

Galen's demands for the bounty hunter's hat draw a very confused and aggravated look from Kyle, one that says "For god's sake, son, try to take this seriously." Starkiller is a lot younger than Kyle expected an Inquisitor to be, but his demeanor is definitely explained now that they're face to face.

As the cards fall from Archer's hat, Kyle only pulls the pistol back to give the gunslinger some room until he realizes the significance of the hand that's revealed, before he's distracted by the droid's head more or less exploding from a burst of lead to the face.

No doubt shoved away by Archer, Kyle stumbles back a bit before he moves in hot pursuit against the hunter. "I got him, get out of here!" He tells Juno and Galen, but one might guess they aren't going to listen.

Damned kids never do.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Keep it up, Juno's flat and entirely unamused look seems to imply, and I'm going to make you sleep in the cargo hold.

"It's not whether you were going to hurt him or not." Juno takes Galen by the arm, briefly steering him aside, voice hushed. "Do you really want to use the same methods that the Empire does? Because that's what that sounded like, just now. They threaten and they bully to get what they want, and I will not allow ourselves to degrade ourselves to that level. I don't care how badly we need some of this."

...And then, suddenly, hat.

Is he seriously wasting time and endangering their lives over headwear? Seriously?

Still holding her blaster, the pilot allows herself a moment to grind her teeth in pure frustration. She's had little enough sleep that this is just beyond the threshold of what she's willing to put up with. She watches, every nerve strung tighter than a violin string, ready to do whatever needs doing to get out of this alive. Even as she watches, she tries to figure out the identity of that tantalisingly familiar face...

Ominous wind. It's not a normal desert wind, what little she's felt thus far in the evening. This is different. Sinister. It swirls sand underfoot, stirs her hair and clothing, and something about it feels subtly wrong, somehow. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She startles so violently she almost drops her blaster as the droid's processor finally blows, throwing herself bodily away from the rupturing droid, struggling to see where the bounty hunter had gone; but it's too dark and her eyes are simply too tired. As it is, her body is beyond exhausted, so much so that it's almost a physical pain.

Juno immediately throws herself forward, gasping in pain at the twist against her broken ribs and her dislocated shoulder; vision blurring at the reflexive tears of pain. She forces herself onward, though, down an alley. The ship isn't far off – but the question is, will she be able to get away in time, before that mysterious gunman decides she's more of an easy target than Galen?

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen smirks. He could take the hat if he wanted. It was... oh god damnit!

The cards fall, the air changes, and a droid goes supernova in the back, letting Mr. Fancy-Hat dive into a stall. Galen is quick to recover from the shock, or so he feels, trying to locate the man even as he rubs at his eyes. "Get out of here!" he calls over to the Rodian. Regardless of his threat, he wants to get the shopkeep out of the battleground. His saber ignites with a flash as he spins it into its normal position, his other arm bracing in front of his chest. The blue blade behind him hums with energy, and Galen's eyes peer around. "You," he says, "He's after Juno and me. Your help is appreciated, but I'm not leaving someone else to fight my battles. That's not my preferred style."

He doesn't say it out loud, but he also wants a shot at that hat.

"Well, I got you to tip your hand a bit," he calls, before sending a wave of lighting toward one of Archer's possible hiding spots. The energy arcs from metal to metal, searching for its mark as he approaches cautiously. "Get out here," he says, narrowing his eyes, "If you're hunting us, you know what you're in for."

Archer of Brown (664) has posed:
Mason's voice rings in the Servant's mind. 'How is your mission going?'

Archer responds. 'Another guy here. Tried to bushwhack me.'

'Oh? Who?'

'Ain't seen his whole face. Kinda scruffy. Brown hair, maybe. Beard.'

'The Empire recently put a bounty on a Kyle Katarn. That might be him.'

It just might be, thinks the Servant. Archer doesn't know the guy from Adam, but maybe a bluff will play out. "Got me? Let's see how well you do when I'm shooting back, Katarn." Hmph. Falling into the exact kind of big-talking behavior that killed him in the first place, that earned him so many poisonous hangers-on and young punks trying to make a name for themselves.

Galen's lightning shreds the flimsy wooden kiosk he'd been using as cover. He casts an eye towards Eclipse attempting to escape. Not a threat, for the moment, and, based on what she said, not bad people, either. With nothing to protect him, he leaps – much in the same way a Jedi might – into the air. His silver revolvers are simply out now, smooth as silk. The movement is too fluid to be called quick, because quick implies urgency or need. The weapons are out, as naturally, as fluidly as one might breathe.

And they roar. These things might look like relics, but those burning white projectiles flying from them are clearly not the work of an average slugthrower. Two head for Kyle, two for Garen. Whatever this man is, he's not a regular human – definitely an Elite, and one with powers that seemingly draw on some mystical force. Maybe not The Force, but definitely A Force.

Kyle Katarn (778) has posed:
Whatever is powering those slugthrowers turns out to be not so much hot lead and powder after all, as Kyle finds out the hard way. He takes a blast to the chest, but a flash of blue reveals he wasn't shot, but knocked off guard by the first shot. Immediately after the first hits, Kyle manages to deflect the second blast handily. THat bryar also seems to have entered the holster as Kyle braces himself.

His weapon raises in his hands, and Kyle shrugs at Galen. "Suit yourself, this guy won't be easy to drive off anyways."

Not to remain reactive this whole encounter, he reaches out with his free hand, yanking the parts of the destroyed droid to fling towards Archer. His lightsaber gives off a furious humming sound as he lunges towards Archer just as the cowboy's knocked upside the head by the chestplate of the droid he just shot, and Kyle swings his lightsaber at Archer's chest.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The Rodian is quick to follow the advice. He's so quick, in fact, that he'd vanished as soon as the interlopers had shown up to claim a bounty on his customers. One can likely find him cowering beneath a stone counter, clutching his own blaster to his narrow chest. It won't save him from the likes of these people, of course, but it might give him a false sense of security. Hopefully he won't come back to his shop being turned into a crater.

Meanwhile, the blonde pilot is busy throwing herself down an alley, but she's put her body through far too much strain over the past two weeks. She pulls up short with a faint sound of agony, as both ribs and dislocated shoulder protest violently at the abuse. Fetching up against a wall, she arches her head back, baring her teeth in silent agony.

Running is one thing, but she's not going to make it to the ship like this. She can't run. If she takes it slowly, though, she's going to be overrun if the bounty hunter decides to go after her. Plus, there's no telling whether bounty hunters already present in Mos Eisley might find her too tempting a target to pass up.

Juno looks back, briefly, in time to see Archer of Brown leaping into the air like a Jedi and firing those weapons. They look like black powder pistols or revolvers, a thoroughly antiquated but sometimes-used technology, but whatever they're firing... those aren't normal slugs.

She hesitates, agonising over her decision as much as her wounds. Does she stay back and help, or does she flee for the ship?

In the end, she can't.

She can't run; her body simply won't hold up if she keeps on as she is. Even if she had to flee, she couldn't get away. Instead, she edges back to the wall, swallowing against a dry throat and taking careful aim while the bounty hunter's occupied.

And then she fires off two precise shots, one after the other, the blaster's charge lancing green through the desert night. Maybe, if she's lucky, she might be able to hit something useful – she does aim carefully, if nothing else, bracing her wounded shoulder against a wall.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen smriks as the gunman makes his reemergence, the ex-Inquisitor dashing forward to put a quick end to the bounty hunt. However, the man is more than he appears. Not only is he a snappy dresser, he's also some sort of... cowboy wizard. "He... he's not using the Force!" he calls, "What the he—" His words are cut short by the snarling repeat of the man's weapons, the projectiles certainly not your typical bullet. His movement is swift, the saber blade lancing across his body. The impact is heavy, even against the lightsaber, but he manages to force one shot off course. The other slams into his empty arm, causing the Force-user to stagger back. Blood blossoms from the wound, but Galen seems undeterred. In fact, there's a light in his eyes right now. Juno, if she could see it, would know it's the look he gets when he's invested in a mission.

Force help us all.

He leaps into the air, saber swinging back to its neutral position. He keeps his eyes trained on Archer, smiling as his saber arcs out, aiming to slash across his chest from right shoulder to left hip. "You're something else. Fine, then that means I don't have to hold back!" He follows his attack up with a pulse from the Force, aiming to shove the gunman into a pile of debris.

Archer of Brown (664) has posed:
The broken droid is shattered, utterly pulverized by two more shots from Archer's pistols. By his reckoning, that leaves him with three in each gun. Of course, he doesn't have much time for reckoning with two pissed off Force users on the rise. Now that he's already jumped, he's got nothing to do but fall—WHAT IN TARNATION

Two very GREEN bolts of blaster fire distract him from his other enemies. He pivots midair, tracking the shots with his eyes.

BLAM BLAM

The gunman's projectiles and the pilot's meet midair in a violent explosion. The Servant just tracked and countered projectiles with two of his own, and did so as if it weren't utterly outrageous. To him, of course, it isn't. It's only part of his legend.

The fact remains that there are still two midair Jedi with him, and he's not by any means a close-range fighter. His chest bears a blood-red X as two lightsabers cross it in arcing paths. He is then promptly propelled by a force he can't explain, through a pile of debris. The Servant hits the wall with a crack forceful enough to shake the clay building which broke his flight path, but he's not out of the fight.

Archer runs up the side of the adobe, scaling the sheer surface easily to get a better vantage point, then begins a retreat – or so it seems. What he's actually doing is using the rooftops to try and search for Juno. As he leaps, he speaks to the Force users. "What'd you fellas do to earn such a big price tag, anyhow? I mean, I know what the party line is. But maybe I just don't take Vader's word for it."

Kyle Katarn (778) has posed:
WHAT

Suddenly explosions are happening all over the street, and Kyle covers his eyes to prevent getting blinded as a result. "Protect her, I'll go after him!" He says to Starkiller, knowing how he is with JUno. Without missing a beat, he takes pursuit after Archer, leaping up onto the roof with Jedi agility. He's a quick runner, which makes the chase after Archer very easy.

His lightsaber swaps to his off-hand, and he draws his blaster pistol in his right hand, taking a double-tap to fire upon Archer just as he goes into slashing range, making a lunge towards the bounty hunter servant.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Fetching up against the wall, the blonde pilot sights down the barrel of her blaster pistol, trying to follow her difficult target. Although she might imagine he's using some variant of the Force, Galen's call suggests that it isn't a familiar variant. Someone from beyond the veil, then; a multiversal bounty hunter. That in turn is enough to think that it might be somebody Elite.

She hadn't been expecting an easy time of getting away, not in their current state, but that makes things even more dangerous.

Fervently, she hopes Kyra isn't busy later on, or that she can limp her way to the White Mage some time within the next twenty-four hours, because she's going to need some kind of medical treatment even more after this is through. The pain in her shoulder and ribs screams at her in a voice that's practically audible.

Before she can address the rather pressing issue of escaping, she has to stare for a moment, because it sure looks like he just shot her blaster bolts out of the air. Now... with the way blaster weapons work, "bolt" is more of a linguistic convenience. There isn't a bolt; it's simply a concentration of energy, heat, and light, which tends to fry its way into or through its targets. At no time is there actually a physical projectile or slug, nor is there a leftover projectile or slug left in whatever gets shot.

So if that gunman actually managed to shoot those out of the air...

"Oh, damn," she says, very softly, and she can almost feel the blood drain from her face.

She looks to the side, trying to gauge how far it must be to the Rogue Shadow from here. Although she can hear the gunman asking her companion and their ally what it is they did. It might carry more weight if he weren't trying to shoot them down at the same time, but she knows better than to answer; instead, she crab-scuttles her way back into the alley, shimmying up against the warm adobe wall.

Using it to lean against, she follows it in the direction she last left the ship. As a pilot, she's used to thinking spatially more than most people, and it's very difficult for her to lose her sense of direction... but she's very tired, and she's wounded to the point of distraction. It takes her a few seconds to reorient herself; seconds that she doesn't have.

More than that, wounded as she is, she's not able to restrain herself or walk quietly – he can probably hear the sound of someone walking unevenly, staggering and occasionally catching themselves against a wall; or the sawing of Juno's breath against her throat, as much from exertion as from pain.

This day, she decides, is officially a horrible one, and she'll be very glad when it's over.

If she lives that long.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen lets his face fall as Juno's blaster shots are... shot out of the air? "How the hell did you do that?!" he calls, "I don't know what you are, but that's not normal. Only a marksman of incredible skill could've pulled that off, and not mid-combat." He drops back down to the ground, dashing along street level as Kyle takes the rooftop chase. He was right, of course. Juno was vulnerable by her own admission, and he needed to make sure she was safe. He wouldn't let them take her away from him again. If it meant giving into the Dark impulses in his mind, then he'd do it to protect.... no, he couldn't. If he gave in, he might lose himself for good.

He'd have to save her without drawing on that strength. So he'd use the strength of why he betrayed the Empire, why they have a bounty on their heads. He'd use his heart.

He can sense Juno, and as his feet follow her path, he can sense her strength faltering. She wasn't going to make it to the Shadow at that pace. Not without taking shots from Archer. So, as he finally closes the gap, he runs right past her, then kneels in front of her with his back to her.

"Plan B. Get on."

There's no joking tone in his voice. It's delivered like he might have delivered flight orders in their Empire days before they fell for each other. There was no time for jokes now.

Archer of Brown (664) has posed:
Archer quirks a brow as his enhanced leaps carry him from rooftop to rooftop. 'Protect her.' He smiles – but it's not a cruel smile. He looks over his shoulder at the approaching Jedi. Two shots left in each gun, now. Too close a range to shoot Katarn's blaster bolts out of the air, so he'll just have to juke. One bolt grazes his ear, burns just as bad as the lightsabers do, it seems. If he flares his nostrils he can smell his own cooked hide – or maybe that's hair. Time slows down as the Jedi's blade crosses through the air.

It's not a question of evading it completely. This is what Katarn does. It's probably what Starkiller does, too. The option here is where he wants to get hit. Where it's most acceptable to get hit. Ribs, he decides. The Servant ducks under the swing and comes back up. "Protect her, huh? Think I've heard enough."

CLATTER

The sixguns fall, willingly dropped from the Servant's hands. They gleam in the cold moonlight, as do the engravings on the handles.

J.B. Hickok

"You ain't criminals. You might've pissed some rich folk off, but you ain't criminals." Katarn could've sold the other two up the river and saved his own ass. Instead, he offered himself up to fight while they escaped, knowing full well if he were defeated, he'd be doing time – or worse.

Kyle Katarn (778) has posed:
"Depends on who you talk to." Kyle says, just as he sees Archer drop his weapons. He does the same, extinquishing his lightsaber as well as the weapons hit the roof. "I don't sell out friends, that's not who I am. I'm a Jedi; I help people, sometimes I have to make enemies in doing so, but I'll risk it regardless."

His words are stoic, missing that usual wry demeanor Kyle's best known for. "If you're going to make enemies, might as well do it for a good cause, if you ask me. If you want out of this, this'll be the end of it. No hard feelings. Judging by your musing, I'd say we're best off letting this lie."

The moonlight definitely paints a grim picture, but Kyle's still content that this means Galen and Juno will be able to slip away another night. One only hopes they can get to a medic soon. But he knows a guy...or girl, as it were.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Even marksmanship wouldn't account for the destructive ability to eat a blaster bolt. It must have been something of even greater power than the concentrated energy that blaster pistols rely on, and then to accurately plug that energy out of the sky? That's frankly the kind of superhuman thing that speaks of an extremely specialised Elite.

It's enough to make something cold settle in the pit of her stomach; enough that, when Galen is suddenly in front of her and kneeling, she doesn't even hesitate before holstering her blaster and throwing an arm around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. "Run," she gasps. "Get me to the ship, and I can get us out of here."

This is why pilots stick to their ships. Give her a hot zone to fly through any day, and she'll take that over having to show her mettle on the ground. She's no commando and she knows it. She knows just enough about protecting herself to get herself into trouble.

She glances back, looking through the corner of her eye at the last direction the gunman had been; where she'd heard his voice. So, is he curious more than actually wanting to kill them? Curiosity is good. Talking is good. Isn't that how any rebellion starts? Asking questions?

"You want to know why?" she calls back to the Servant. "We're deserters, and traitors, because we refused to slaughter innocent civilians...!"

"And you! Jedi!" This, to Kyle, although she still hasn't caught enough of a glimpse of him to prove his identity. "Thank you...!"

The statement is angry, but she's forced to cut herself short, wheezing, ducking her head against Galen's shoulder and trying so hard, so very hard, not to whimper in pain.

No matter what happens, she's not going to show Galen, of all people, how much she's really hurting. A futile effort – he can sense through the Force that she's in white-hot agony – but it's in her nature to wear a brave face.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen takes Juno's weight onto his shoulders, straightening up and breaking into a full sprint. His speed is still incredible with a passenger in tow, and they would reach the Shadow in short order at this clip. However, he stops. As the gunman drops his weapons, he turns back to look at the Servant. His eyes are still bright, but for a different reason now.

"I'll tell you what we did," he says, "We pissed off the Empire by being human. As an Inquisitor and a Sith, I wasn't supposed to grow so close to anyone that I would give up everything for them. I did. We did. That's all."

With that, he waves, then turns back toward the Shadow. As he does, he keeps the man's appearance in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, they could get another ally in their corner.

Archer of Brown (664) has posed:
"No hard feelings," confirms Archer. "Just wanted to get it straight from the horse's mouth. Me and my boss're... funny like that. The loudest person in the room ain't the most right, he likes to say." Well, the Senator says so in better grammar and without a gravelly drawl. He nods towards Katarn, and there's an... energy in the air, or rather, a departure thereof. The guns have dissolved into blue motes of energy, and the man on the roof is going much the same way. "We'll let it lie. I'll do ya one better..."

As he dematerializes, Archer shouts towards Juno and Galen. "Can't nobody blame you for that," he says. What? Must be off world grammatical conventions or something. "You ever feel your backs against the wall, you ask for Archer on the radio." He chuckles, the lower half of his body gone. He smiles at Kyle, indicating an intention to deliver the same promise to the Jedi, should the need arise.

"Happy trails." The Servant is gone.