Post by Darth Xaos on Jul 3, 2016 1:26:03 GMT
Hot winds blew across the sea of dry grass that stretched over the flat plain from horizon to horizon. Amidst the waving weeds, a large Boma beast gnawed on the remains of a Bantha it had caught and killed. Bomas came from the Onderon system originally but the natives of 'Dosha had early in their history imported several populations of the predators from their neighbor to serve as prey in hunts. For the Trandoshans, it is widely know, all existence is a hunt and life is at its purest in the pursuit.
And it was into that life of simple purity that Saraas had long since returned, his past among the stars almost completely forgotten. The Trandoshan crouched in the grass, waiting for the Boma to turn at an angle most opportune for a shot from the blaster he held in his taloned, scaled hands. The beast harrumphed as it swallowed down a particularly tough glob of gristle and turned about ninety degrees along the Bantha corpse's perimeter before taking another mouthful. That bite would be the last thing the Boma ever experienced.
With the bulbous-bodied beast slain, Saraas arose and began walking back to his landspeeder as he had no intention of trying to drag his slain quarry back home. Within an hour the Trandoshan hunter was loading both the Boma and the Bantha it had caught onto the sizeable flatbed of his speeder. Then it was just a matter of driving for a few more hours. It was something of a task to hunt this far from his dwelling but all Trandoshans knew a hunter who is so lazy as to only ever hunt near their home is soon without food.
It had been roughly two years since his exile from New Bethrezen and the Sith Brotherhood but at times it seemed more like two decades. Saraas did not think of himself as the person who had once been a dread Inquisitor, and had long since let his old skills and connection to he Force atrophy. He'd maintained a few Force Powers, ones that were mostly simple and of direct application, but relied almost totally on his own mundane skills to survive. The heady days of dreaming and plotting for galactic conquest were gone, and he was rather glad to be rid of them in truth. Though he knew Darth Lucifer had chosen 'Dosha as Saraas' place of exile primarily due to its Union loyalties, he was glad he'd been returned to his homeworld regardless of the original circumstances.
Upon arriving at his shelter, Saraas was shocked to discover three Trandoshans waiting there. He didn't live near any settlements, and intentionally so, therefore visitors were not a usual occurrence. Seeing him arrive, they approached and one began to speak.
"You are the occupant of this shelter, yesss?" the Trandoshan, with a gray cloth tied around his upper arm just like his companions, did not wait for a confirmation before continuing, "The enemy is planning an invasion and the War Chief has bid all hunters to come to Hsskhor to be assigned to places of defense."
When a Trandoshan simply said, "the enemy," without any qualifications they could only mean one group, the Wookies.
And it was into that life of simple purity that Saraas had long since returned, his past among the stars almost completely forgotten. The Trandoshan crouched in the grass, waiting for the Boma to turn at an angle most opportune for a shot from the blaster he held in his taloned, scaled hands. The beast harrumphed as it swallowed down a particularly tough glob of gristle and turned about ninety degrees along the Bantha corpse's perimeter before taking another mouthful. That bite would be the last thing the Boma ever experienced.
With the bulbous-bodied beast slain, Saraas arose and began walking back to his landspeeder as he had no intention of trying to drag his slain quarry back home. Within an hour the Trandoshan hunter was loading both the Boma and the Bantha it had caught onto the sizeable flatbed of his speeder. Then it was just a matter of driving for a few more hours. It was something of a task to hunt this far from his dwelling but all Trandoshans knew a hunter who is so lazy as to only ever hunt near their home is soon without food.
It had been roughly two years since his exile from New Bethrezen and the Sith Brotherhood but at times it seemed more like two decades. Saraas did not think of himself as the person who had once been a dread Inquisitor, and had long since let his old skills and connection to he Force atrophy. He'd maintained a few Force Powers, ones that were mostly simple and of direct application, but relied almost totally on his own mundane skills to survive. The heady days of dreaming and plotting for galactic conquest were gone, and he was rather glad to be rid of them in truth. Though he knew Darth Lucifer had chosen 'Dosha as Saraas' place of exile primarily due to its Union loyalties, he was glad he'd been returned to his homeworld regardless of the original circumstances.
Upon arriving at his shelter, Saraas was shocked to discover three Trandoshans waiting there. He didn't live near any settlements, and intentionally so, therefore visitors were not a usual occurrence. Seeing him arrive, they approached and one began to speak.
"You are the occupant of this shelter, yesss?" the Trandoshan, with a gray cloth tied around his upper arm just like his companions, did not wait for a confirmation before continuing, "The enemy is planning an invasion and the War Chief has bid all hunters to come to Hsskhor to be assigned to places of defense."
When a Trandoshan simply said, "the enemy," without any qualifications they could only mean one group, the Wookies.