When you are traversing the wild and untouched landscapes of the savannah, just remind yourself that you are never the apex predator. The vast and desolate area of sand, rocks, dead and ancient trees are all the same blood-orange color for a simple reason: to hide your worst nightmare from your sight, the Akul. A large, quadrupedal and orange furred mammal, the Akul are the top predators that hunt all sorts of bovine, dog, hooved and giant mammals. Using their extraordinary sense of smell, they can trace your scent from days long past and track you down without mercy.

Throughout the Savannah, tall and wispy Turu-grass stretches out into long ranging fields. Watering holes are sparse and spread thin, and the terrain offers little safety from the blazing sun that hangs overhead. When the sun retreats and gives way to moonlight, the Savannah becomes almost chill, but the night is dark and full of wild creatures. In the Savannah, it’s hunt or be hunted.

"Moe?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep the ship warm, eh, I'm hopin' this'll be quick as a hiccup."

"Would you like me to activate the heating—"

"No!" he cut off the droid over his shoulder. "It's already plenty hot as hell out here. Just be ready to leave. We're finding Miss A'lora and getting out of here before something happens to my hat."

Something, it seemed, was always happening to his hat. It was as if the universe had drawn a bullseye on it, and everybody he met decided it was a good spot to aim.

Seth Danner lovingly touched the wide, dark brim sitting snuggly atop his head, feeling its frayed edges, warm from the wicked sun, and squinted out at the sea of grass around him. He went cross-eyed. Red-white-red, all flickering. It was enough to make any man's head hurt.

Even if it was her homeland, he didn't understand why his comrade had wanted to return; all he knew was that times being what they were, her going comm-silent since she'd left was bad, and someone had to check in.

Resolved, Seth set out, adjusting his heavy duster and whistling, his hands at home on his pistols' grips. His gaze swept the savannah as he left his freighter behind him.

"Miss A'lora! We've come to take you home!" he called as he went.

And called.

And called.

"...lo? Can...ear...me? Oh, bother..."

Seth swam into consciousness with one of the worst headaches he'd ever suffered. He became dimly aware through the pain of someone speaking. He yelped, attempting and failing to sit up.

"Careful now. You're suffering from heat exhaustion. Drink this." Something pressed to his lips and Seth seized it, gulping.

"...who, what...?" the dazed Human muttered as he sipped more liquid, squinting around. His head was beginning to clear, though his everything felt dry and his skin stung. He was under the sparse canopy of a tree, sun blazing down between its crimson leaves, and the turu grass made a shady bed around him. Beside him was a slim figure with dark skin and silver hair, a cloth tied over her face.

"Hello," she said. "Feeling better? Come now, let me look you over again. Just keep drinking." She reached for him with gloved hands; belatedly, he realized his coat, boots, and socks had all been removed, and—

Gasping, Seth's hands flew to his head, surprise immediately rocking him to find his hat very much there. His hat was never there unless he was watching to make sure of it.

The lady chuckled. "Oh, yes, your hat. It seemed rather important to you, didn't want it fluttering off." Her smile was bright as Seth, confused, tugged gently on the brim of his prized possession and felt a sharp pull on his scalp. "Hairpins! I've a lot of them, you see," she delicately twirled a silver curl that fell from her bejeweled, elaborate braid. "Anyhoo, I cleaned it too, had some scuffs—"

"...you…WHAT?"

The blindfolded woman stuttered, shrinking back at the shriek. She put up her hands. "Now, now, dear. I apologize if my handling your things is upsetting, truly I do, I only meant to help when I found you. I was here looking for a clanmate of mine, but there you were, and—"

"You...my hat..." Seth tore the item from his head, crying out when some of his hair came with it in a few agonizing tufts. His hands shook as he examined it, searching for the familiar, precious scrapes and nicks that were each of piece of his brother; but it was almost pristine. Ruined.

"...I'm sorry, friend," the girl was saying, but Seth didn't hear her. He forgot about everything but his defiled hat. He slammed it crookedly back atop his head and tore each of his pistols from their holsters, leveling them at the interfering witch while she held her hands in front of her.

He squeezed both triggers, and fire and lead exploded from the muzzles.

The first salvo broke against an invisible wall, manifesting with a rush and a cry from his new mortal enemy as she tumbled backwards, blood spraying the air. It wasn't as much as he wanted, just a few slashes and holes in the fleshy bits of her bare arms. He'd been hoping to shoot each of her fingers bloody well off.

Damn, but he really got tired of Jedi sorts and their bullet-blocking bubbles.

Undeterred and furious, Seth stood and fired again.

The rounds pinged off what was left of the Arconan Consul’s barrier as she scrambled back away from the smuggler. Every second or third bullet found a gap in the bubble, striking the ground and rocks around the Miraluka but never quite finding their mark. With wild eyes Seth advanced on Atyiru, all thoughts of self preservation momentarily forgotten, as he sought revenge on the girl for her slight against the memory of his brother.

With a dazzling display of athleticism the Arconan rolled backward, her hand reaching for the hilt of her lightsaber, and sprung up onto her feet. With a push of a button the brilliant cerulean blade sprung to life with a snap and a hiss. It hummed in the still, hot air between the two combatants.

“My friend,” the Consul said. “I do apologise for any offence I may have caused. I was merely trying to help. Surely there is no need for further violence.”

With wild eyes the Odanite raised one of his Reynolds and prepared to fire. But before he could even pull the trigger Atty was on the move, shooting forward and slicing down and to the left with her brilliant azure blade. The lightsaber sliced the slugthrower in half, the melted steel of the barrel dropping to the ground with a thud. But the loss of a weapon didn't deter the smuggler as he raised his remaining pistol and began to squeeze the trigger.

The Arconan called on the Force and waved her hand. "Your hat blew off! Go get it.". Danner stopped in his tracks and turned, taking off in a mad dash in pursuit of the phantom hat, eliciting a small giggle from the Miraluka. But something at the back of her mind tugged at her attention. Reaching out with the Force the Consul could sense the fleeing smuggler, the small creatures scurrying through the tall grass and something else. Something large and hungry stalking the Odanite.

From out of the tall grass leapt a creature built for the kill, the apex predator of the Savannah, an Akul. It pounced upon Danner, its razor sharp claws tearing ragged strips into the smuggler’s back, staining his white shirt red with blood. Whatever spell the Consul had placed upon the Odanite’s mind faded as the beast dug claws deep into Seth’s chest. In a panic the smuggler did the only thing he could think of: he pulled the large knife from his belt and plunged it deep into the Akul’s chest again and again. The beast roared in pain and leapt off the Human, running off to die in the long grass.

Guilt rose up in the Arconan’s heart. She felt somehow responsible for the smuggler’s current predicament, as well as the inevitable death of the Akul. She ran to the stricken smuggler, momentarily taken aback at the ragged holes in his flesh.

She began to kneel beside Danner when he thrust weakly with the blade in his hand and shouted, “Get away from me!”

“Hush,” she replied in an authoritative voice. “If I don't help you, you’re going to die.”

He swung the blade weakly but the Arconan swatted his hand away. She placed her hands gently on his torn chest and called on the Force, sending healing energy into the injured smuggler. The flow of blood slowed to a trickle as Seth’s torn flesh ever so slowly began to knit back together. But before Atty could fully heal the Odanite, something cold and hard pressed against her lower jaw — the barrel of a Reynolds DE-21 slugthrower.

“I said get away from me,” said Seth through gritted teeth.

"Alright," the Miraluka said softly, tilting her chin back as his unsteady arm shook, jabbing the barrel forward. "I'm removing my hands. See?" She paused, however, still not backing up. He saw her fingers twitch near her belt. "But...if you just let me help you—"

Without blinking, Seth jerked the tip of his remaining Reynolds to the right and fired directly next to her ear.

The girl recoiled and screamed, grabbing at the side of her head. Her pointed ear pressed hard to the side of her skull, blood trickling freely from within. Flash-burns were black in a starburst against her cheek from the muzzle. She tried to curl up on the ground but the Human jabbed his pistol at her.

"I said get away!" he shouted a third time through bloody spittle, knowing that she would barely hear him. He hollered louder just to be sure. "GET AWAY NOW OR I SHOOT YOU DEAD!"

He wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't already killed her. He didn't particularly care. Watching her cry was good enough for him right then. It made the mean bit of him that demanded justice for his hat glad.

"F-fine!" managed the lady, stumbling to her feet. She swayed hard, tottering worse than a man at the bottom of a barrel; but she still managed to retreat a good few feet before she fell again.

Momentarily mollified, Seth returned to his agony, head thudding back on the ground and arm to his side. He sucked in a few breaths through clenched teeth, then rolled over, getting his limbs under him. He wobbled, dropped low again, pushed up and kept crawling.

His boot nudged something more solid than grass. There was a crack and then—

Hissssss.

Seth suddenly found himself engulfed in a growing, billowing cloud of pale bluish mist. Panic assaulted him and he gasped in a few large, desperate lungfuls of the stuff before he could remember to hold his breath. His eyes burned, all of his lacerations burned, the pain nearly making him sob as he tried to stand and run from the poison. He stumbled again, chin biting into the ground, and then that stung too. All over, his skin buzzed and tingled and ached, like his muscles were going to crawl off of him.

Oh gods, I'm melting, was his single, terrified thought.

But slowly, the adrenaline-soaked sponge that was his brain began to process something, reasserting itself over his thundering heartbeat and shrieking instincts. The Human laid there very much...not...melted? In fact, when he touched the cut on his chin, he found it already closing. Carefully, he uncurled from his fetal position and stretched. Pain still flared up the lines of his wounds, but...he twisted carefully, prodding at whole, puffy pink skin and sore, tender muscles.

"Bacta, like the Force, is no great panacea. But, it does help," came a cool tone from nearby, speaking overly loud as Seth climbed to his bare feet. "I suggest you go look for your friend. We're finished here. I've others to attend besides you."

With that, the half-deafened blind woman turned and began walking off. Her path followed the bloody trail the akul had left in the trampled grasses. The Human gaped after her.

"The hell are you doin'?" he found himself asking.

"Seeing what little I can do to help that poor creature."

"It's surely dead!"

The woman tilted her head, quiet for a moment, then smiled faintly. "No, it lives yet."

"All that blood will surely get others comin' 'round."

"Most likely."

"You daft or something, always trying to help the things what want to maim you when they ain't even asked for it?"

Her smile grew. "Perhaps. But I am also right. Farewell, friend. I am sorry again for your loss."

Somehow, Seth got the feeling she didn't exactly mean his hat.

The woman turned and left, the grasses swallowing her. Seth's shirt tatters clung to him with sweat and blood. His weapons were either in pieces or lost somewhere in the grass. He could only hope his gear was still over by that tree, and that he could find his way back to his ship and find A'lora.

But most importantly...

Seth recovered his hat from where it had gotten knocked away in the mauling. There was a hole in its top. He poked his finger through it, wiggling the digit, and sighed. It just wasn't the same.

But then, nothing ever would be.

Once again, the Miraluka pushed the smuggler's hand aside and scowled as she said “Are you really that dense? If you don't let me help you, you're going to die.”

In no condition to do anything more than lay there, Seth acquiesced to Atty’s ministrations. Once more, the Arconan Consul gathered herself and opened her mind to the wonders of the Force, sending healing energies into the ruined flesh of the Odanite's chest. A wave of warmth entered Danner’s body as the Force stemmed the flow of blood and repaired ruined muscles and tendons. His skin, so pale only moments ago, began to regain its colour and his breathing became less laboured.

Time dragged on and the heat of the Shili sun coupled with the strain of healing the smuggler was wearing the Consul down. Her hands began to shake, her brow was covered in sweat and the wounds on her arms were beginning to bleed more and more with each passing minute. But never once did she complain or relent in her desire to see this man, who not long ago had been trying to kill her, survive his wounds.

Seth was bored, and he really needed to pee, but all he could do was lay there and wait. Looking around all he could see was the tall turu grass all around them, still in the late afternoon, until it wasn’t. His first inkling that something was wrong was the grass off to his left moving without a breath of wind. Then something burst from that long grass, all teeth, claws and wild eyes ready to kill. On pure instinct, the smuggler pulled a pistol from its holster and fired. The crack of the shot caused the Arconan to grab her ears and shout in surprise.

The bullet sailed through the air and hammered into the orange furred skull of an Akul. The beast, its brain now little more than mush, thumped to the ground dead. Atty turned to look at the dead predator before looking once more at the Human man lying in the long grass.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, shock evident on her face.

Seth replied with a hoarse voice “To save you're karkin’ life, that's why.”

The Arconan walked over to the dead Akul and examined it, expecting to find the stab wounds Seth inflicted on the creature earlier in the day, but there were no wounds in the creature's side. Suddenly a feeling, like a tickle at the back of mind, warned her of impending danger. She rose to her feet and stretched out with the Force, the myriad of life teeming around her. And there, like a pair of beacons in a dark night, stalked two more creatures intent on murder.

They were moving straight for the Arconan and the Odanite, perhaps attracted by the scent of blood. It didn't matter to the Augur, her sole priority was the protection of the injured smuggler. The hunters burst from the long grass, the larger of the two letting out a low menacing growl. Atty called on the Force, reaching out in an attempt to understand and communicate with the creatures, but all she could sense was anger and hunger. Activating her lightsaber, she hoped the brilliant blue blade would scare the Akul off, but they continued to hunt the Consul and the smuggler.

The smaller of the two circled around to Atty’s left while the larger leapt forward, claws extended, aiming for the Consul’s throat. She floated gracefully to the left and slashed downward, cutting the predator in half. Its bisected corpse dropped to the ground with a wet thwack, its internal organs spilling out onto the ground. From behind her came three loud cracks of a Reynolds DE-21 firing. She spun quickly on her heels to see the second Akul drop to the turf with a trio of holes in its side.

“You're welcome,” said Seth as he fell back.

Atty sadly shook her head at the waste of life and rushed back to the Odanite’s side, his wounds reopening from his exertions. “I need to get you out of here before anymore of these animals come back.”

“My comm,” Seth said. “Call my droid Moe, tell him to bring the Syren here now. He’ll ask for a code, the reply is whiskey six two.”

The Arconan pulled the device from his wrist as he passed into blissful unconsciousness.