The natives see it as an obstacle to their lifestyle, whilst outsiders perceive it as a diamond in the rough. Regardless of the opinion, Menat Ombo is the most technological settlement on New Tython. Crammed with tall and slim towers, alleys and market squares have randomly developed where the necessary room is. You might turn a corner and see a vendor selling smoked meat from the indigenous animals, and the next corner could be a home. The merchant stalls are almost always temporary, folding easily with several clippings or a really good show of strength. Above the awnings of the stalls, buildings of various shapes and sizes crafted of sand and stone and earth create a set of interconnecting rooftops in some parts with wide gaps in the others.

It is easy to get lost in the crowds of people. As you leave the central market, countless alleys splinter out and lead to quieter sections of the city. The streets are kept tidly by maintenance droids. and the air is clean. At night, the city and marketplace are well lit, and the lights from the scattered inns create a welcoming ambiance to the twilight air.

Callus strode casually through the open air market of New Tython's capital city, Menat Ombo. New Tython, or Haraoka to the natives, was the home of a particularly annoying sect of Jedi the Knights of Odan-Urr they had colonized the world several years ago and began to bring in a large number of other species most notably Mon Cal. It was a curious series of events that brought him here, after the recent events of the Great Jedi War and confrontation with the One Sith Plagueis had taken a serious blow to their power base. Losing their leader for a time and losing several of their key assets, that is what landed Callus here in the heart of enemy territory so to speak they were looking for a way to not only affect the ability of their enemy to react to their upcoming strike also attempting to perhaps court a few converts to their cause.

It was actually quite a beautiful day here, the air was cool and the sun was warm, the people seemed generally happy and oblivious to what was going on around them and what was soon to happen to them when Plagueis came knocking. Callus had dressed casually as he generally preferred, wearing a dark tan leather jacket with brown accents on the shoulders and hems. His jacket was unbuttoned revealing a dark blue shirt over heavy grey work slacks. He had his lightsaber concealed at the small of his back in a case, he knew he could carry his lightsaber in the open here but it would draw attention from the locals due to their close collaboration with Odan-Urr, attention that he didn’t need. He had a DX-2 disruptor on his hip and two daggers inside his jacket. The press of the people was intense, almost to the point of overwhelming, all engaged in their business of selling, or shopping just going about their day. The emotions in the force were powerful and multitude Callus could feel excitement, greed, fear, love, hatred, despair, hope, any emotion across the entire spectrum of sentient species.

He stopped at a stall that was selling some interesting looking fruits and picked one up studying it’s blue dimpled skin closely while turning it over several times in his fingers and squeezing it gently. He looked up and the curator of the stall, a Rodain, waved at him encouraging Callus to try it. The Quaestor bit into the fruit and broke through the surprisingly supple flesh that unleashed a torrent of flavorful juice that his tastebuds couldn’t identify as having ever tasted before. It was a citrusy mix with subtle aniseed notes and a slightly bitter finish. His eyes opened wide and he looked up to the stall operator. “What is this?”

“Freglan fruit.” The seller said with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Native to Haraoka?” Callus inquired.

“The original fruit was inedible, the natives called it something that I can’t pronounce but that translates to ‘inedible’ and used it to keep insects away. I cross bred it with the Veeji fruit from Lowick. It’s quite interesting isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” Callus replied taking another bite. “How long do they stay edible?”

“A few weeks, they actually ripen quite well and I’ve been told make some quite potent alcohols.” The proprietor said adjusting some stock behind the tables. “How much for say, 4 dozen?” Callus said finishing off the one he just finished.

“Hmm…” The Rodian pondered using his fingers to figure a price in his head, “100 credits.”

“100?” Callus asked with a vague tone of incredulity, “that seems like it should get me at least 6 dozen.”

“Are you trying to rob me?” The rodian replied attempting to sound hurt, “I don’t make much here at this stall and you know the fruits don’t really grow on trees around here. Well they do just a very small number of them.” The vendor and Callus shared a small chuckle.

“How about 100 for 6 dozen as a bulk discount for a long term client with monthly orders in the same amount? Callus suggested leaning forward placing an elbow on the stall and gently pressuring the Rodain through the Force

“Make it 5 crates and we’ve got a deal.”

“You drive a hard bargain my friend but I really do like your fruit. Can you have someone take them to my ship? I’ve got 15 credits for them.” Callus reached into a jacket pocket and removed two fifty credit chips a ten and a five along with his docking berth and laid them on the counter.

“Very good.” The Rodian said pocketing the cash, “How will I get the shipments to you each month?”

“Leave your comm code with the shipment and I will arrange it. Also why do you call them Freglan fruits?” Callus asked from genuine curiosity.

“Well I’ve got to have a bit of a legacy don’t I?” The Rodian produced his species’ version of a grin and extended his sucker tipped hand and Callus shook it.

As the Sith stepped away from the stall he felt the smallest brush against his left back pocket but didn't react he moved his eyes slowly in the direction of the pressure and noticed a hooded figure weaving its way through the crowd away from him. Callus reached out toward the figure in the force and sensed, well, nothing. The one individual in this crowded place that wasn't projecting their emotions for anyone to read. Callus was intrigued. Was this just a common cutpurse or something else. He had time to kill so he followed the figure surreptitiously and decided he'd wait for a chance to corner them.

Bloody stupid, showing your wallet like that in a place like this and not just holding on to it afterwards. Practically asking for it.

Kordath Bleu was a in a good mood. He’d been sent to New Tython on a light mission for Arcona’s Intelligence group. The Dajorra Intelligence Agency had him picking something up from the Odan-Urr Jedi, some kind of intel sharing bit to go along with their recent non-aggression pact. They never sent him with much of an operating fund, since the Ryn had something of a reputation when it came to his deft fingers.

He rather enjoyed this world. The temperature tended to be nice and the climate didn’t make his hair itch, which meant his entire body was comfortable. Even with his robes covering him, the Krath wasn’t really hot. It was a lovely day for some petty theft and scoring points with the DIA.

Yet something started to nag at him, and he glanced back the way he’d come and saw a sandy-headed Human look away. Kordath groaned, keeping his hood up and slouching further. The Human was nearly half a foot taller than the Ryn; he might not spot him if he could find someplace to dart off too.

Blast, must be getting clumsy in all this time off. Need to start practicing my skills when I’ve got the time, this is just embarrassing.

The marketplace was still busy even as Kordath moved away from the central area of the bazaar. An alleyway ran off from both sides of the street up ahead, and the Ryn considered his options. Running off down one of those seemed like the most obvious move, which meant the Human tailing him would likely catch on. Not to mention the Krath didn’t have the faintest idea what the layout of the area was, so getting lost was a real possibility. Checking his rear again, Bleu almost stumbled. The Human was gone!

Might have been my imagination, always so hard to tell the hairless ones apart, he decided, smiling to himself in self-satisfaction. Kordath turned his head back to the watch where he was going, and ran head-first into the tall Human’s chest.

“Gah!” he shouted in surprise before instinct took over and he kicked the man in the shin. As the Human yelped and hopped back a step, the Krath turned and ran towards the alleyway on his right. A glance thrown over his shoulder showed the man hobbling after him, his strides growing longer as he moved. Kordath let out a mental sigh. He’d not expected the little kick to do much but he’d hoped it’d slow the guy down. He was tough looking anyways, but this seemed unfair.

A threeway intersection of alleys was coming up, and Kordath didn’t hesitate to sprint to his left. Spotting a pile of empty crates outside the back door of what was, from the smells wafting out, a local restaurant, he kicked the bottom one out. A clattering of wood could be heard behind him, causing him to steal another look back, just in time to watch the man make a clean leap over it.

Oh poodoo, this is bad. He might not be any quicker than me, but blast it if he’s not even breathing hard yet.

Kordath saw a dumpster up ahead, lids down and pushed up against the wall, and had a moment of desperate inspiration. Scrambling quickly as he reached it, the Ryn gave himself a little boost from the Force and used the trash bin to help him reach the roof. Pulling himself over the edge and running forward again, he felt himself starting to pant. This was turning into a not so good day, he realized as the sound of boots on roof could be heard behind him. He found himself headed towards the edge of the rooftop and gauged the distance to the next one. It was doable, he felt, as he pushed himself to the limit, leaping across the expanse of open air.

An abrupt stop nearly caused him to fall backwards and off his new perch, tail flailing wildly behind him in an attempt to find balance. Falling forward, the Ryn hit his knees and tried to slow his breathing, eyes wide. Something had grabbed him by the back of his robes when his feet had hit this side of the jump. With a much more graceful landing, the Human appeared next to him, looking at him more in question than anger.

“You’re quick, little guy. But you aren’t out running me.”

Kordath shook his hood back and looked up to grin at the man, trying to put on as pleasant of an appearance as he could. He reached into his robes as he stood, causing the Human’s hand to settle on the grip of a pistol on his hip. With a sigh, Kordath held one hand up in a placating manner while pulling the man’s wallet out and tossed it at him. He caught it, raising an eyebrow at the Ryn in question.

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t recognize ya I guess, must be one of the newer Odanites, eh?”

“Pardon?”

“You stopped me with the Force, nearly made me tumble off the bleeding roof you did. But if I’d known you was one of the Jedi I’d not have pinched the thing in the first place.” Kordath shrugged, smiling at the man. An Odan-Urr Jedi was no threat to him in this place, as long as he didn’t move to attack him.

A smile crossed the Human’s face. “I see. You think I’m one of the ‘locals’. You’re not that lucky, pal.”

The Human pulled his pistol from its holster, watching the Ryn. “Now, I’m Callus, Callus Bo’Amar. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? Doesn’t matter. Nobody steals from me.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa wait! I gave back the bleeding wallet, what’s the issue, mate?”

“I am not your ‘mate’, friend,” growled Callus, lifting the pistol. Kordath groaned to himself and held up both hands in front of him. A bright flash came from the gun and skittered across an invisible shield before the Krath, causing Callus to pause.

“Okay, I’ll bite, who are you then? Not a Jedi, so neither of us are supposed to be on this world,” asked the Sith, waiting for his disruptor to be fireable again.

“I’m Bleu, mate. Comeon, let’s not do this, we make too much of a ruckus and the brown cloaks will be all over us, eh?”

“Brown cloaks? Oh. The Odanites, I see. You don’t wish to be discovered by them either, hmm?”

Kordath gave the man a lopsided grin. ”Actually, I got me an invitation. But I don’t see no reason to get you killed, mate, we only just met.”

The smile never left the Krath’s face, and he’d not lowered his hands yet either. When a bright flash erupted from nothingness between them, it caught the Sith completely off guard. The world was a blur of spinning purple splotches on white as Callus tried to keep his footing. As he dealt with this, waving his DX-2 around to ward off the little bastard that had blinded him, he heard the Ryn speak.

“Drop it, mate, I don’t wanna fight ya. I’m not the killin’ type and I already gave ya back the wallet, so just leave it.”

After that there was a patter of running feet, and his vision slowly returned. A dark flash out of the corner of his left eye allowed him to spot the Ryn hopping over the alley and running across another roof. Callus raised a hand and sent out a thin, jagged line of electrical energy that impacted on the fleeing Krath’s rear, causing him to yelp and botch his jump. He heard Bleu yell out in surprise as he fell, and a crash from below.

“Not getting away that easily,” growled Bo’Amar as he moved to pursue his prey.

Callus had to admit that the Ryn had a valid point. There really was no reason to make him into a corpse. He peaked over the edge of the building and saw Bleu in a heap of crushed boxes and refuse. Callus took a few steps back and leapt across to the next building with the help of the Force. He followed up by dropping off the edge onto an awning and then to ground level. The Quaestor moved around the building to the alley and saw the Ryn's tail vanish around a corner. While Callus wasn't in the mood to kill him he decided he still had some questions. This character was trained in the Force, but by whom? He obviously wasn't one of the Odanites and Callus found it hard to believe the pickpocket came from one of the Brotherhood's clans, perhaps this was the convert Callus had come here to find.

Callus made his way to the end of the alley to a main thoroughfare and swore under his breath. All he saw was a mass of bodies moving in all directions with dozens of them wearing hooded cloaks. The Epicanthix growled and pushed his way into the crowd and began ripping hoods down searching for Bleu, but to no avail. He stopped in the middle of the crowd and tried to calm his frustrations as he reached out with the Force sweeping over every being that he could perceive searching for the emptiness that he had felt when he'd touched the Ryn before but it wasn't there. He'd missed his chance.

He shoved his way past what he thought was a shopper wearing a fur coat, but realized a bit too late that in his distracted state he'd actually shoved a menacing looking Wookie. Callus looked up as the walking carpet hefted him up by the shoulders and flung him into the crowd with a howl. Callus landed on top of a gaggle of shoppers who were none too happy to see him. He got up quickly to an angry chorus from the pedestrians who saw fit to lash out at him, however Callus' attention was solely on the Wookie that was stalking towards him through the crowd.

Once the big furry oaf got within a few paces Callus focused on the Force and lashed out with both hands towards the Wookie. The wave of energy slammed into the creature lifting it off the ground and back into the crowd several meters. The onlookers were stunned for a moment and then began to press in on him. All of them incredulous that a Jedi would do such a thing. Callus could feel his anger welling up at these small insignificant people as his hand flashed to the small case under his jacket. The cool metal was somehow refreshing against his fingertips as the worn metallic cylinder flashed in the fading sun of dusk. He thumbed the activation plate and the weapon came to life with the symphonic sounds of the focusing crystals aligning themselves. The crowd took a step back.

"I'm no Jedi." Callus growled exerting and projecting his hatred, anger, and aggression through the Force onto the crowd. The pressure was immense and the backed away in fear as he stalked past them. He deactivated his weapon and eased off of the pressure as he got further away from where the action happened and ducked down a side alley. Callus gave an exhausted sigh as he leaned against the building wall, he reached up to wipe sweat from his brow when he heard slow, almost sarcastic applause coming from his left.

"That was rather impressive back there." A familiar voice sounded over the applause. "I have to admit, watching you flung through the air by that Wook was a sight, then you landed so gracefully on those folks," the Run chuckled a bit, "I've got a picture on my data pad," he paused as he looked over at Callus who had his face in his hand rubbing his eyes. "Oh c'mon mate it really was impressive how you dealt with the Wook and how you terrified the crowd out of your way." Callus raised his head and looked over toward the Ryn.

"Glad I can entertain." Callus responded quietly. "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure." Bleu said with a bit of hesitation in his voice. Callus' hand dropped slowly and then almost unnaturally fast he spun and had a small vicious looking dagger against the Ryn's throat and his left arm pinning Bleu against the wall.

"Who are you?" Callus' voice rumbled at the Ryn as he applied more of his weight onto Bleu's chest and applied more pressure with the edge of the blade.

"I told you already." was the reply as Callus dug the blade closer almost heavy enough to break skin.

"Who. Are. You." Callus demanded again, this time breaking the skin with his blade and a small trickle of blood.

"That may be a question for another time mate." Bleu choked back.

"I think it is a question for right kriffing now." Callus said ready to drive the blade into soft tissue at the shoulder when a voice came from the end of the alleyway.

"Stop right there!" A wet gravelly sounding voice commanded. Callus looked up to see a Mon Cal clad in brown robes holding a green lightsaber pointing towards him flanked by a dark skinned female human and an Ithorian. Callus gave a glance down the other end of the alley and saw two other figures, a Zabrack and a male Human with lit lightsabers as well.

"Well mate, what's the plan?" Blue whispered.

"I've never had a problem killing Jedi." Callus said with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. He released the pressure on the Ryn and dropped the dagger. As he did so he pushed his jacket back slightly exposing his holstered blaster to Bleu as his own hand reached further back to the cylindrical case at the small of his back.

Karking Jedi everywhere! Why they got so many in the marketplace on a quiet day like today? thought the Ryn before his eyes lit up with understanding.

I missed the meet! These idiots are lookin’ for me and he’s gonna try and fight the lot of them. That’s bloody suicide on his part, but he might, no, he **will* take down one or two of ‘em. Next time Atty sends me running to New Tython for a mission it’s already gonna be a pain. If this idiot kills a few Jedi with me on the sidelines it’ll be a blasted diplomatic incident and she’ll have my hide for boots.*

Callus’ had dropped the knife at his feet. The Ryn had his own inside the robes he wore, but pulling them now seemed like a bad move. A silver blade snapped to life with a hiss of energy from the Dark Jedi’s weapon, a hungry light in the near-Human’s eyes. Mind racing, Kordath tried to figure out a way out of the situation, his eyes darting to the disruptor pistol on the man’s hip. The Mon Calamari was surprisingly quick — too quick, in the Ryn’s opinion. Emerald and silver blades met in a crackle of sparks and screeching as the plasma weapons were pushed against one another.

The Jedi’s companions were circling, the Ithorian moving to block the entrance to the street while the dark-skinned woman was paying far too much attention to Kordath.

Thinks I’m gonna bolt on her, smart lass. Cute, too. Probably bloody repressed from all that silly Jedi nonsense they stuck in her head. Be a shame if this guy cut her down.

Another shower of sparks broke the Ryn out of his internal thoughts and forced him to pay attention to what was going on before him: Callus and the Mon Cal were trading blows not a foot away from him. Evidently, this was not the best place for him to be. Meanwhile, down at the other end of the alley, the other Jedi were watching, hilts in hand.

He came to a decision.

It went against almost everything he believed in, everything he’d relied upon to keep himself alive over the years. He stepped away from the wall and tossed his hood back. Reaching over, he grabbed the Sith by the jacket and jerked him backwards, putting a foot in the back of his right knee for good measure.

Callus swore as his footing was lost and the green saber blade passed within inches of the Sith’s nose. After stumbling back and recovering, Bo’amar began to charge at the Jedi only to find the Ryn standing between the both of them, hands held up before both combatants.

“Cool your exhaust, mate,” growled the Ryn before he turned to the Jedi. “You lookin’ for me, eh?”

“Am I?” asked the slick-skinned water dweller, peering at him with one of his bulbous eyes. His other swiveled a bit to look at the Human Jedi with him, who was pulling a small holo projector out. A tiny blue and white image appeared, a picture of a Ryn with a few lines of Aurebesh set next to it. She looked from the image to Bleu, who gave her a smile and a wink, much to her disgust, before nodding to the Mon Calamari. “So, you’re the one Arcona sent.”

Kordath’s left hand closed and turned, extending a finger in the generally accepted sign of ‘wait!’ to the Sith. He could feel Bo’mar’s eyes burning into the side of his head at this point with how hard man was glaring at him.

“Aye, I’m Bleu. Sorry about me mate here,” said the Ryn, smiling at the Jedi and hoping that his nervously twitching tail didn’t give him away. Stretching the truth with Jedi could be dangerous business. Half-truths and generalisations would have to carry him through this; outright lying would get him thrown in a cell.

“Your ‘mate?’”

“Well don’t take it like that, eh? They sent him along as security, ya know? Keep an eye out, make sure nothin’ untowards happened to me.” Kordath stared the Mon Cal right in one eye, trying not to focus on the one that kept moving around of its own accord.

How do they not get bloody dizzy with that going on?

The Jedi let out a bubbling sound that Kordath interpreted as a sigh, lowering his weapon and waving at the woman with him. She pulled a small data card from her robes and walked up to Kordath, handing it to him. Despite her efforts to the contrary, he managed to close a hand over her own and give her a grin.

“Next time maybe we meet up for a bite to eat instead of all this robes and sabers business, eh love?”

She jerked her hand free and wiped it on her robes, disgust evident on her face.

“Suit yerself, luv, ya don’t know what you’re missin’,” he said with another wink. Bleu turned to look at Callus, who was still glaring at him. He turned back to the Mon Cal who seemed to be in charge and did a little mock bow. “Sorry, again, for the ruckus mate. We was having a bit of an argument and things got out of hand. Try and keep it quieter next time, eh?”

“Get off New Tython.”

“Roger that, mate.”

The Ryn turned and scooped up the Sith’s fallen knife before giving Callus another look, and a gestured with his head towards the alleyway entrance to the street. Slowly, the broad man followed him out into the quiet street, where already life was starting to return now that it seemed the show was over. The two began to walk side by side away from the Jedi. Kordath twirled the knife a few times before holding it up by the point and extending the handle towards Callus.

“Can’t have ya killin’ Jedi with me around, cause me all sorts of problems. Figured you didn’t wanna die on this rock neither. So let’s just say ya owe me one, eh?”

“I ever see you again, Arconan, I’m gutting you.”

“Nah mate, that’s not how it works. Next time you see me, you’re gonna let me go, then we’re even. The time after that, well…” the Ryn trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

“The time after will be very interesting indeed,” growled the Sith, before turning and joining the flow of pedestrians, leaving Bleu by himself. Kordath watched him go, turning the data card over in his hand.

Well, that was fun.