Log:The Vexation of Tiriel (I)

The Vexation of Tiriel (I)

OOC Date: February 11, 2021
Location: Cathar
Participants: Nerys Greystorm, Mujiji, Rale, Zyrette, Khalim, and Tarion Tavers

"Woe upon thee, O children of iniquity! O wicked and perverse adders, who love those who do evil! Behold the time of judgment! Behold the curse of Tiriel!"

The scene in the forest is a strange one; a man in plain grey armor and only one arm, which is currently holding aloft a small-ish bowcaster. The man isn't speaking, rather the voice seems to come from a squawking, grated box on the side of the weapon itself, speaking in a slightly garbled but very Coruscanti prosody.

"Alright, we get it, you're real upset," the man deadpans, rolling his eyes at the 'caster and settling the strap around his neck so that he can manage the thing with his single arm. "You've got a thing for this Head-Danny guy and you want us to find him. Luckily for you, you've fallen into the ownership of the best bounty hunter in the galaxy!" he annouces with a smirk, setting off through the trees with the rest of the crew in tow.

"Cursed be the name Hedanni Duun and the children of Hedanni Duun! Treacherous and black is his heart. Treason against the wise rule of Tiriel!"

"So anyway, this old Headdanny guy is out here on a ritualistic hunt or something like that, which is just, you know, a layer of irony," Tarion explains to the others while he adjusts the sling, straddling a log under the dense tree cover. "Tiriel says he's the reason the First Order happened, or something. I don't know, I just want him to shut up about it."

Nerys, who ever quite new why or how she ended up on these escapades was, nevertheless, here on this escapade. She stood amongst the mixed group of familair faces, and listened to the literal squawk box, a finger reaching up to wiggle in her ear, though she did not look at all pained. "Alright, well, do we get a bonus if we get this over with quick and dirty?" As Tarion got himself together so did Nerys, readying ehr weapon, the droid which had been maglocked to her harness across the front of Nerys' backpack settling on her shoulder, using the redhead's shoulder as a brace. "Possibly for taking out the--" she cut herself off, "Nevermind, that's illegal."

"M'I the only one concerned that we're 'ere on the word of... Um..." Mujiji, tromping along behind the madman with the madder weapon, complains. She's got her modified blaster strapped across her back, crossed with a bandolier of explosives.

She would cut a more intimidating figure if she wasn't less than two feet tall.

"I'm still not clear on that, actually. The whole -" Moo waves an incredulous, furry hand at the bowcaster. The talking one. She's pretty sure they aren't supposed to do that. But, anything that advises bloodshed is spewing advice that the kushiban is going to listen to.

"Take a quick bounty, Rale, Karr says...I'm busy a sector over, Karr says...It'll be a walk in the park, it's open season, Already got Graystorm and Khalim, he says..." Rale is grumbling, but his heart isn't in it, rubbing at his flattened ears as the box offends the sensitive satellite dishes he uses to hunt. He is still grinning, however, as he checks the seals on his huntsuit, the dark material already blending into the forest around him as he pulls free his carbine, checking the barrel, magazine, and chamber in quick, efficient motions, the same way he's obviously done all this a hundred times. "What Friend Nerys said. And Friend Muji." He stands near to the Shadowport chunk of the group, at least in good company as apparently a good portion of the Freeport decided it was Bounty Hunting day.

Zyrette checks her armor and weaponry, making certain all is as it should be. She watches the Bounty Hunter as he speaks to the Bowcaster. The existence of possessed items were not unknown to her, but this was the first time, she;d actually witness and -heard- one. That in itself was worth the trip, in her opinion. The Falleen glanced aside at Nerys, as the woman spoke, and then to often frequent companions Khalim, Rale, and more recently Mujiji. "Possessed weapon?" She supplied helpfully, to the Lagmorph.

Perched against the weathered trunk of an elderly fir, Khalim nods as Tarion gives the basic basics of this hunt, and its objective. The dull grey of the void armor currently worn is perhaps not ideal for stealthy forest work, but the scout in Khalim knows it to be at least somewhat adequate. The brighter bits on the suit have been taped or painted over. "Is he alone?" the Mirialan asks. His sidearm is in hand, the gas port's cover remove for the moment as a finger slides along the exposed innards, ensuring it's obstruction free. A small bit of down-time field maintenance, he probably isn't even aware he's doing it.

"A what?" Tarion replies to Nerys. "A /bonus?!/ You think you people are getting paid?! We're here to settle a grudge for a talking bowcaster that says he's the Chancellor of the New Republic, where do you think the financing is going to come from?" He laughs, catches his toe on a vine, and stumbles into a tree trunk, rebounding off and heading in the same general direction. "Did you think /I/ was going to pay you for this? You people should know by now that Tarion Tavers is the best bounty hunter in the galaxy," you shouldn't "And also the richest, and I didn't get that way from paying out credits for other people's problems, ok ka."

"Behold, mortals, the fate of the righteous: bound and tied by cruel chance to the meanest of men, a denizen of the lowest social strata, an unscrupulous cur for whom no crime is too low. BEHOLD! The triumph of Tiriel! For with this foul clay, I, Tiriel shall sculpt a master vessel of just punishment! The mighty shall be brought low, and all will see and know the work of Tiriel, that he hath visited upon them!"

"We've got to find them first," Tarion mutters back, stopping at the edge of a clearing where the scene ahead has diverged from the pastoral approach thus far; a hunting camp, with traditional ritualistic leather tents made from the hides of past kills, spreads in a small ring around the smoldering remains of a fire. "Savages," the bounty hunter snorts derisively. "Take a look around, see if you can figure out what direction they went." Is this even Hedanni's camp?

"Oh, trust and believe, I am very good at figuring out ways to collect credits," Nerys offered as she followed along in the wake of the group. In answer to Zyrette's question, Nerys shook her head, "I don't know about possessed, but I'd be interested in tearing that down." But, that was something to think on when they were not on the job, and as they made their way to the clearing, Nerys and Bitty began a controlled circuit of the camp, pausing here and there to see what spore they could pick up. At the far southwest quadrant of the camp clearing, Nerys hunkered down, her free hand indicating the ground, "Got tracks here. Heading deeper into the forest. Bipedal, felinoid."

"Posessed weapon?" The kushiban deadpans in response to Zyrette, her tone suggesting that she doesn't believe that it's a thing. She bodily hauls herself up and over a tree root, the movement more natural than she would ever care to admit. "Like someone stuffed a dead guy innit?"

The philosophical (or... Physical) questions regarding the weapon's personhood are forgotten at Tarion's blowharding that he won't be paying them - and Mujiji's pink nose crinkles in a scowl. "If this wasn't so weird, I'd be a lot angrier." She decides, after a moment, more to herself than anyone else. It's at this point that she thinks to actually lend something of use to the endeavor, and scuffs a paw across the ground... It's... Dirt... "Mhm... Yes, I see..." She mutters, loud enough to make sure that she's heard being useful, stooped over a leaf and staring at it intently. She's got nothing, but she doesn't want the rest of the idiots to know that. "Interesting..."

Rale moves up beside Nerys, sniffing deeply as his nostrils do with biology what Nerys and her droid do with tech and know-how. He grunts, nodding along with Nerys. "What she said, plus..." He moves toward a small, burned pile slow,y making his way down low, almost on his hands and knees as his oversized sniffer does its work.

snif snif sniiiiiff snuuuffle

He roots in a pile of small ash, holding up a bone fragment and a small pendent. "Hmm. Offering of some kind. Not sure what the drek that's all about, but seems like the sort. Muji is right, this is odder than I like."

Zyrette shrugs slightly at Mujiji and Nerys. "I'm not certain of the exact mechanics, but yes. Someone's... essence, is instilled into an object. There's been a few such items noted, historically....Or perhaps more precisely, mythologically."

The Statuesque Falleen pauses to stoop beside something and try and determine a direction. Oh look. Scat. That was helpful. She stood. She did not announce her findings, instead, glance at Nerys, whom seemed more keen in her search.

Khalim doesn't see a thing of any use. Just trees. And more trees. Look, over there, a whole bunch of trees. Tall trees. Short trees. Stuff around the trees. On the other side? There's more trees. Similar in many ways, but also each unique and different and special in its own way. Trees.

The Mirialan reholsters his pistol and steps in Zee's direction, which is also Nerys's direction, which is also Rale's direction. Still scanning, eyes panning. If anyone needs to know where a tree is, just ask Khalim.

"Labor not for credits, ye shortsighted children, but lay up for yourselves that which is real: wrath and judgment upon the evildoer," Tiriel recommends in his clarion buzzing speech.

"Can't argue with that sort of wisdom," Tarion agrees sarcastically, patting the stock of the weapon with faux-affection, incapable as he is of any real emotions aside from greed and rage. "Bipedal felinoid sounds like Cathar to me," he says as he hustles over to where Nerys indicates, smiling brightly down at the tracks. "Of course, I would have found these," he assures her in the smug, self-satisfied voice of someone who would not have found these, "but you saved us some time."

Heading off along the trail, he calls back over his shoulder, "The bones are probably his first-born child or something like that, Cathar are kriffing weird. I mean, fur, and- and the ears." Did he forget Mujiji is here? "Either that or it's like, his dinner or something. You really found that just by sniffing around? Can you get his scent off it and track him down? I think I saw that in the holos once." Oh, he's just xenophobic. "Is that going be a problem? Is Headdanny going to smell /us/?"

The trail leads through a stand of young trees, the sorts of which are sometimes cultivated over the course of generations to grow into the massive citytrees that the Cathar make their settlements in. The tracks continue on a fairly straightforward course, leading along through the saplings until it terminates at a lively creek running through the trees, perhaps two paces wide at its broadest points.

"Always happy to help." Because Nerys was what? Helpful. Nerys returned to her feet, glancing around as the group appeared to be gathering, though the main of her attention was on Tarion as the leader of this little escapade. Mention of a pendant brought her attention to Rale and she attempted to get a look at it, if only to try to identify anything useful about it, "May I?" She would not take the pendant without being offered it. But she was as good at multitasking as she needed to be and continued the search, rather than hold up the hunt. As she moved, Bitty took off from Nerys' shoulder, the tiny droid disappearing into those trees Khalim had so helpfully located. As she walked, she used her free hand to indicate what she was seeing, "We're not far behind whomever left these tracks. I am still picking up residual heat in the tracks and along the ground cover." She did slow once they got to the water, "The tracks continue along the other side of the bank, following the flow of the water."

"Someone's... Essence." The Kushiban inhales deeply, releases, and chooses to push this from her conscious thoughts. It's too weird and spooky for her tastes - she had chosen to believe that the Force users were myth until someone whipped a saber out in front of her. Instead of focusing on the thought, she latches onto the idea that it's purely a mechanical invention, and a funny one at that. With that comforting thought in mind, she returns to pretending to know what she's doing. "Yes, that's exactly what I was referrin' on." Mujiji agrees readily to Rale's observations, nodding sagely. Tarion's comments about fur and ears are ignored, but noted with a little flicker of black moodfur. Kushiban are weird.

Realizing that she would better serve this effort from a better vantage point, the squirelly-rabbity logomorph takes a running jump and scampers up the nearest tree, going higher and higher. She will be able to see the patterns of the paths below her, this way - perhaps spy a fire, or a scuffle up ahead! She grabs onto a branch and steadies herself before turning - directly into a spiderweb. "PWHA!" She sputters, staggering backwards and spitting silk. EW.

Hmmm...Well, at least Rale doesn't seem concerned about this guy getting shot, his huge, glassy eyes staring at his back for a second or two too long to be normal, mumuring in Huttese an insult that compares Tarion to a variety of mud-dwelling insects. "Of course, Friend." He actually likes Nerys, passing over the pendant before standing. He looks to the three other Shadowporters with them. Tries to catch their eyes. Looks to the Bounty Hunter, a questioning sort of look in his eye. "Probably. Cathar have excellent senses, better than mine, naturally." His habit of deathsticks and Reactor Cores doesn't help. He seems to consider for a moment. No. Only if the others say anything. But he's also not going out of his way to search, hanging out near to Mujiji and Khalim if he can now. "So...Why am I gonna go risk my backside to hunt down this guy I don't know for no money for a xenophobic hunter, anyway?" He's still walking, but it's a question.

Zyrette followed the others along the track. As Nerys pointed out the trail picking up along the other side, Zee glanced from side to side, making sure their side of the back, and the likely creek were safe to cross. Likewise she looked among the saplings. She wasn't much of a hunter, but where she to plan an ambush...

Rale's words echoed her own. At least concern the lack of pay. However, her curiosity was peaked. And sometimes that was enough, for her. "I've never seen a possessed item before." She said, quietly aside to the Chadra-fan. Then, seeing nothing that worried her, she started across to the other side.

Khalim stops at the edge of the creek, kneeling and taking long moments to inspect the other side. "I don't see any running, jumping or landing footprints," he says to whoever may be nearest. It's hard to hide impact impressions from a jump, no matter how stealthy you may be. He points at a dislodged rock a few feet from the creek and makes a little hop over. "Tracks," he says, and sure enough, a trampled, wet collection of stones. And a bit beyond, more. They're arranged in a general direction. "It could be our Cather, and if so it's that-a-way." A point in his best guesstimate as to where the felinoid would have traveled. The Chadra-Fan's attempt to catch eyes isn't missed, and the Mirialan sends them back. The look is inscrutable. Perhaps that meant something in and of itself.

"Your average Cathar male is round about six feet. This creek's narrow enough that with their added flexibility, they could span the water in a single long stride." Nerys, though, was not anywhere near six feet. She was, however, nimble enough to cross the creek and move to pick back up the trail. Sealed armor prevented wet toes. because no one liked wet toes. Bitty zipped across without a hitch of course. Floaty droid was floaty. Once she was on the other side, she looked down at her hand at the pendant which had been given to her, before she tucked it away into a pocket. "This is interesting," Nerys offered to Zyrette as she moved, though she cast her voice loud enough for the others to hear, "It marks the beginning of a blood hunt. The hunter is gifted the pendant before a hunt begins. It is buried along with an offering before the hunt begins. If the hunt is successful, they retrieve the pendant as a sign that they were, indeed still alive. if they fall in the hunt, it serves as a ritual burial for the fallen hunter." And then, she glances over to Tarion, "It does make one wonder who is hunting whom."

Returning from her fruitless tree perch, Mujiji claws webbing from her fur and follows the others. The grass, it turns out, proves to be a problem, and the diminuitive sentient cuts a comical figure bounce, bounce, bouncing for brief and intermittent glances above the tops of it. "I think -" She pants each time she's above the grass. "That we - " bounce "- should follow -" bounce "-the path". Yes, valuable input.

"This looks like an incredibly good place to ambush, really," Rale notes, peering at the long grass, the dividing creek, and then at his comrades, especially Khalim. "Kay, you've been in the Stuff before, Doesn't this seem exactly a spot you'd pick to ambush someone at close range, if you felt you were outgunned?" He's sniffing, and shakes his head as he points out into the swath. "Yeah, track definitely leads out there. Not loving what Friend Nerys is adding to the discussion either." But, sealed in a Huntsuit, he follows, sticking close to Zee and Khalim as he goes.

Zyrette half crossed the stream before Khalim pointed out the rocks. Ah well, hind sight. Once in the grass lands, she had to agree with Rale, compounded by Nerys' observations. "Yes, I've had that very feeling from the on set." She agreed,

Zee peers at Mujiji leaping above the grasses, and heads over to said mowed down trail. She spots indents in the grown, almost like fence posts having been turn up. "Is this some sort of... Vehicle tread?" She asks aloud, kneeling at one of the indents?

Khalim looks to the bounding lagomorph, and should he catch Mujiji's attention for a moment pats his shoulder. "Just consider me an extra-small AT-PT. With meat."

Nerys's words bring a frown to the Mirialan's face, and his pistol is again unholstered. Not that it would do a whole lot of good at the ranges afford this scenario, but he suddenly feeling less safe. To Rale he adds, "We're likely already seen, if this is an ambush. And yes. But not just close. Long too." As Zyrette begins to inspect something out of the ordinary Khalim approaches to lend an eye as well.

"What the krif's a blood hunt?" Tarion questions, ambling along as the others mostly do the work of determining what and where to go. "Is this some kind of weird Cathar thing we should know about?"

The swath cut through the grass had lead back into the forest, and it is from the trees that noise begins to clatter and clack, heralding the arrival a few moments later of a giant beetle as big as a small troop transport. Massive jaw pincers clack furiously as the beetle tosses its head aloft, struggling to shake free a figure on its back. Clinging to the beetle's carapace is a humanoid figure covered in dingey grey fur, dressed in leathers and festooned in primitive weaponry. It's not a rider/mount situation, more of a fight-to-the-death situation, from the frantic attitude of both beetle and blood hunter.

"Hedanni Duun! Behold the curse of Tiriel!" the bowcaster thunders, a word which here means 'blows out its speaker but doesn't get that much louder.' "Judgment is upon you! The blind eye you turned in the senate to the heinous crimes committed in the shadows! The blood is on your head, and your blood will answer for your crimes, that all may know and fear the curse of Tiriel!"

"The krif is THAT?!" Tarion shouts over the rambling pronouncement, already scrambling out of the path of the giant beetle as it hurtles ahead on legs the size of fenceposts. "You didn't say anything about giant killer bugs! I hate this planet!"

"A hunt to the death. Yours or your prey." It was probably much less simple than that, but at this point, Nerys was not terribly interested in exploring the complexities of Cathar rituals and culture. The mention of tracks was a much more relevant conversion, as Nerys turned her eyes that way. Just in time to see said hunter crashing out of said forest on the back of said, one would suppose, prey. Now, one might think, you know, eliminate the rage bug, but no, that was not the mission, and both Nerys and Bitty raised their weapons, aiming to shoot the target as instructed. That was the mission, right? And they could still run, right? "I wonder if it dislikes water."

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Is Mujiji starting to tire? Khalim's offer of a shoulder is regarded carefully before the tiny logomorph takes a final bounce, digs in those little claws and clambors up the Mirialan. It's from this perch that she is awarded a spectacle of the beetle and hunter's battle - and a grin spreads slowly across her muzzle. "This is more like it." She decides, running a thumb claw over her bandolier of explosives... But... No - the grasses, the trees... Perhaps that isn't the brightest idea that she could have. Instead, the Modified DL-18 is swung from her back and, using Khalim's head to stabalize herself, fires off two rounds at the beetle. They can't get paid if this thing eats the prize.

Rale can't properly see! This is not only annoying in the tall grass, but a severe tactical impairment! But he has a solution! He plants his feet, tapping a control on his wrist and launching himself up on a plume of exhaust, oversized carbine coming around for two short, lethal blasts toward the Extreme Beetle. One goes wide as his flight arc takes him around, but the other impacts hard on the thing's head, hopefully ringing its bell a bit...And leaving him utterly exposed only a couple feet above the grasss.

Zyrette watched with horror as the rider and 'mount' appeared, "Which one should we shoot at?" She couldn't help but wonder out loud. That carapace looked like it would be a nightmare to try and get through. Before she could point out the enemy of my enemy is my friend logic, though, Nerys opened fire on the 'rider' and between herself, and her droid, killed him. "Well, I guess vengeance has been wrought.."

The Falleen lifted her own DL-18 and took aim at the beetle. She suspected they wouldn't have just been able to go on their merry way, regardless. She takes aim, and shoots wide. Good thing the others she traveled with were better shots.

"This guy was in the Senate? Like, the New Republic Senate?" Khalim mutters, as Hedanni Duun nearly instantly becomes Hedanni Dead. The Mirialan frowns deeply. "We're settling a political score here," he murmurs. But that beetle is still there, and it's with for death - theirs - was not politically motivated at all.

The Mirialan pauses as Mujiji takes up his offers and clambers up, then pauses again - a look of major league uncertainty plastered across his face - as the little Kushiban uses his HEAD as a weapons emplacement. But it seems to work! As the DL-18, exertly stabilized by Khalim (it's a special talent he didn't know he had), splashes home. Twice.

"Nice shots," he offers, then raises his own pistol. Briefly sighting, his SoroSuub's trigger is squeezed twice in rapid succession, sending sizzling, screeching tibana-charged bolts at the mega-beetle. Both strike home, burning little holes in the beetle's carapice but otherwise not seeming to slow it's rampage.

"Tiriel?" Hedanni Duun has time to look confused at the mention of the name. "He died twenty years ag-" BOOSH, KA-PEW, Nerys and Bitty blow him off the back of the Kiltik with extreme precipice.

"Aw, look, it's their first political hit-job," Tarion remarks proudly, stopping his helter-skelter dash away from danger long enough to admire the sight of a grudge-fueled assassi- JUSTICE being carried out.

"Minion of fate, selected to torment the soul of righteous Tiriel! Aim me that I may participate in executing judgement! I will not be sidelined from my own vengeance on the wicked! Aim me!"

Begrudgingly, the bounty hunter takes lackluster aim, laboring under the difficulty of doing so with only one arm and a sling, and with a KA-BOOSH the little 'caster rockets a shot wide at the Kiltik as it lumbers towards Nerys, bearing down on the woman with murderous intent in its beady eyes, clacking pincers spreading wide to CHOMP down on the most readily accessible limb.

This particular Kiltik was supposed to have been prey to one particular Cathar, but that did not stop it from being a predator itself, and so, as it was hit, it reacted in both pain and likely animal rage as it charged away from the now very dead and failed blood hunter and barreled down towards Nerys, its unnatural speed beating hers as a vicious spied leg segment spearing into the meat of her left thigh, as it tried to pin her down, hoping, no doubt to keep the woman down long enough to take a chomp out of her. Whatever choice words the space raider had for the creature did not make it past her helmet as she kicked away at it, aiming for it's dumb bug face, opening fire on the thing as she tried to scramble back to get clear of it. Bitty, of course, was not about to let this insult to her mistress and loyal steed stand, and she once again opened fire on the beetle, trying to tempt it away from her mistress. Her d-roid range, however, was not properly attuned and the shot went wide.

With Hedanni dropped like a sack of meilooruns, they are able to better focus on the rampaging beetle monster. "I wanna make armor out of it." Mujiji decides, giving a wide grin as she tucks her gun away, prepared herself, and - when it's close enough - latches a handhold and hauls herself up onto the beetle's back. There is a moment of panic where she struggles to find a foothold, grasping uselessly at the slick carapace of the beetle. She needs two hands - the gun is strapped back to her back, and she steadies herself...

And then reaches for a grenade.

Is...Is he seeing this correctly. Oh my. Okay, okay, Rale thinks. I can make this work, okay. Never mind that he's still pretty crazily new with this jetpack. Never mind that he's gonna try and pluck a tiny lagomorph off the back of a bucking mega-predator. Nope, Mujiji is about to do something dangerous and insane, and so he must try and help! He tucks away his carbine, getting both hands open as he hovers, prepared to zip down and scoop up his comrade, or at least propel her faster off the beetle once this plan is in motion!

Probably. Maybe. Maybe kill them both. Time will tell!

Zyrette watched as the giant beetle took a bite at one of Nerys' legs. Not to be felled the other woman continued to shoot as she scrambled away. Zee deciding as she was least of the gun hands present that could actually aid here, stepped forward. As Mujiji, out of seemingly no where, was suddenly climbing the Beetle, Zee darted in. Hooking one arm under one of Nerys' she began to pull, helping the scooting back further out of range, and hopefully not just offering a second target.

The situation is rapidly devolving into chaos, as often happens when massive titan-like monsters of nature enter into the equation. The Mirialan visible winces as he sees Nerys captured by a spiked leg segment. Mujiji has hurled herself off of Khalim's shoulder to try and, he doesn't know, ride the beetle to glory? Climb inside and make a home? The Mirialan takes the first step in Nerys's direction when he sees Zyrette rush towards and then take hold of the woman. Their volume of fire must be kept up, and so he instead resights his pistol and unload two more loud particle bolts, both striking one right after the other in a miniature cluster.

For the situation to devolve into chaos would have required it to be orderly to begin with; as it is, the crew of vigilantes/hitmen have interrupted an aging Cathar in the performance of one of their people's most sacred rituals: a blood hunt against a kiltik, the local megafauna that are known to devastate the environment and sometimes Cathar settlements when left unchecked.

Tarion levels Tiriel again at the 'caster's insistence, firing off another wild shot that sizzles past Mujiji's ears rather than striking the massive beetle, and in the meantime, the bug loses interest in Nerys as she scoots away, tugged by Zyrette, preferring instead to veer on Khalim, its thick forelegs thumping into the ground just in front of the Mirialan. The creature makes no screeching noises, just a consistent high-pitched thrum and the intermittent chattering of its huge mandibles.

Perhaps this was a mistake - there is a lot of fire centered on this beetle, some jetpacks have been involved... But at least they are dealing with the leg stuck in its mandibles. "CLEAR TH'BEETLE RADIUS!" The Kushiban shouts, plucking an explosive from her bandolier. While Mujiji lacks restraint, she does have enough common sense to keep herself from setting this whole place a fire... It's a cryoban grenade that she chooses, jamming it roughly between the cracks in the carapace. She didn't know that it would be the hunched posture the task requires saving her as she bends just as Tarion's shot bursts where her head had been.

She activates the grenade.

"CLEAR, CLEAR!" Mujiji is going to have to scramble - and she does! Leaping as hard as her tiny legs can carry her. Which would be great, if one of those legs hadn't become wedged in the folds of one of the creature's wings, and she slams against its back, her own momentum downing her.

'Well'. She thinks, clenching her fists with a grin. 'At least I went out like this.' She closes her eyes, accepting her fate - embracing the incoming darkness with a slim degree of satisfaction.

And from above, screaming down on a pillar of fire and billowing exhaust, comes Rale! Seeing Muji turn to run, he reacts without thinking, without any rational thought other than 'GET FRIEND' and as she is tripping, his fingers rapid-fire on the control wrist panel shooting him down and arcing right across Mujiji as, in perfect timing, his armored, little arms scoop the Lagomorph up and against him as he turns up into the sky. Inside his helmet, is it possible heavy metal music is playing? Nobody will know, as all they can hear is "NOT TODAY!" yelling his denial of death as they rocket away from an explosion of fire and ice, possibly the most cool and badass explosion this planet has seen.

He doesn't look at the explosion.

Zyrette releases Nerys, as soon as she's certain the other woman is steady on her feet. Frankly, she'd been pleased not to feel the expected weight of bug pincers at her back. Still as she turned to ready a few more shots, a lot seemed to be happening at once. Instead of attacking her, the Beetle instead focus its buggy rage on Khalim. Fortunately, the Mirialan was hopefully to wily.

Nerys started shouting. Moo started shouting. "Oh no.." But before she react much more than that, explosions went off, a heroic Rale swept in, and the day was saved? Non the less, the Falleen ducked and covered, least there be exploding bug bits.

Khalim watches, thoroughly impressed and feeling like a comfortable chair would be nice at the moment, as Mujiji 'nades the monstrous beast, followed by Rale's dive bomber swoop to the rescue. Was there a hint of heavy metal adrift in the air? Khalim slips a pair of shades out of one of his vac-sealed suit's utility pouches and slips them on a moment before the blue-flash and /WHUMP/ of the cryoban grenade's terrible detonation. He simply nods, blue explosion reflected back at the beast's crumpling body by the shades reflective tint. "I love the smell of cryoban in the morning," he grates.

When the dust settles and the kiltik is dead, Tarion emerges with his stupid lop-sided grin, dirt and kiltik guts smeared across his face as he regards the devastation. "Now that's what I'm talking about," the bounty hunter remarks, smearing some ichor from his cheek with the back of his hand. "/Extreme/ precipice."

Stepping around the carnage to the body of the Cathar, he looks down at their vic- target. In death, it just looks like a sort of elderly old cat-man, probably out here to go out in a blaze of glory to begin with. "You happy now?" Tarion questions, single hand jimmying the weapon known as Tiriel around to 'look' at the body.

"Take heed, O children of the stars, and harken unto the words of Tiriel,

Listen ye, and listen well, that ye may hear and understand

This is the curse of Tiriel, that his friends betrayed him in a time of need,

That in the hour of need, when the transgressions of the Unknown came to light,

They turned their backs upon Tiriel. They shunned his warnings and deafened their ears,

And so stored up doom upon themselves and those who they knew not.

This is the curse of Tiriel, that this doom be revisited on them tenfold; I will repay."

"So that's a no on shutting him up, then," Tarion decides with a sigh, shifting the weapon around onto his back. "Oh well. I think he's got a list or something. How many old senators could there even be, anyway? I hope I have a fun hobby when /I'm/ a disembodied voice. It's the little things, you know?"