Read part one here & part three here
Felar Werda shoved another Dradit Delight into his mouth, feeling the sugared grub’s innards burst out in a manner the large man enjoyed. He lay back in his lounge chair on the observation deck of the hunting barge, eyes scanning the thick brush below. The grub juice dripped down into the shaggy hair of his beard, the visceral pleasure eliciting a demented smile, showing off his teeth like fangs. While the barge was well camouflaged, a context-responsive paint on the hull allowed it to change as soon as the environment around it did; Werda could not have blended in on the ground. Werda was an imposingly tall, middle-aged man with grown-out sideburns & a wispy comb-over.
As if to distract from the noticeably pronounced age of the popular holo-comedian, he had adopted a wild fashion sense in recent years. Werda’s outfit of the day was a solar yellow one-piece, a jumpsuit adorned with exotic pink floral bursts. Despite the high fashion, something the throngs on Andino would have looked upon with awe and posted incessantly on the feeds, the celebrity undercut the beauty. He carried a vague air of sleaziness.
Werda’s ever-present personal assistant Talus stood beside him, holding the tray of snacks on the rubber-tipped fingers of his airtight vacc suit, something all gaseous Exalons wore to interact with the solid sentients.
Werda’s companion & co-host of The Clash, Ori Paak, sat on the lounge chair beside him, looking detached & forlorn at the endless jungles of Murn before them. The twenty-something rail-thin boyish man looked at the jungle with his dark-ringed raccoon eyes but didn’t really see it. His mind was elsewhere, thinking of all the fun he could be having getting intoxicated back at his penthouse. Instead, Werda, his boss, insisted they go on an excursion to this backwater bog.
During the flight, Werda explained his upbringing in the Imperium colony of Tranquility here on Murn. The pompous emcee held court with the captive crew of The Clash, telling them how the Imperium only wished to bring civilization to these savages, these elephantine Juggerrmari. How were these imposed gestures of goodwill met? With sabotage by the natives. How ungrateful, Werda spat. Ori could still remember feeling the spittle splash against his cheek, turning his head and wiping it away discreetly with a handkerchief. But a job was a job.
The Clash was one of the highest-rated programs in the Imperium, a tournament where captured Resistance members were thrown into an arena and made to fight to the death. Yes, stimulants and other drugs were often used to get them in “the right mindset” to murder their comrades, but Werda assured anyone with concerns they would turn on each other anyway. Might as well get some views for it.
The trip to Murn was a passion project for Werda. He had always wanted a Juggermari special, a chance to take these gray-skinned ingrates and watch them kill each other for his pleasure. No one was more excited about this hunting trip than him. His cackling laugh and teeth-clenched grin unnerved the rest of the crew, but they kept stone faces. Werda picked up the comm stick and shouted orders to the pilot to take a hard right; the bearded man said he saw a small pack trying to use the tall grass as cover. On the underside of the barge, hunters sat in swivel chairs, protected by thick domes of plasteel, harpoon guns armed with nets ready to fire at Werda’s order.
“We’ll just find this Latia Kateen, drop off the map data, and get back to business,” Khol tells herself.
Scans of Murn told her the populations were clustered mainly on a continent in the southern hemisphere, close to the planet’s equator. Odds were she could find someone that would direct her towards Kateen. Murn was a lush jungle world on the edges of the Imperium, rich with jewels buried deep. The last century had seen many attempts to set up fuel drilling operations, but the local Juggermari were quite good at dismantling these ventures and driving the companies out.
The Mutara breaks through the cloud cover of Murn, and the vast jungle is laid out before them. V-32 points out a barge coasting over the canopy, headed towards a clearing. The ship’s sensor tells Khol four Juggermari are hiding in the tall grass. She puts two and two together and realizes these poor people are being hunted. Stick to the mission at hand, she tells herself. Those words still go around in her head when she realizes she’s redirected the ship to intercept the barge.
Khol redirects power from the FTL drive to thrusters to give an extra push. Khol notices the fuel supply of The Mutara has dropped tremendously, and she likely will need to fill up the tank to leave Murn. She lands the ship about 100 meters away. The boarding ramp descends, and she and V-32 move to rescue the Juggermari.
Khol lets the Juggermari know she’s there, keeping her weapon holstered. “We were flying in and noticed the hunting barge. We can give you a lift on our ship. You need to hurry.”
One Juggermari gives her an annoyed look. Her large ears hold several piercings, each denoting a significant life event and role in her community. She provides a muted but snarky short trumpet. “Yeah, we know. We’re trying to lure them in.”
Khol is stunned for a moment. “You’re trying to get the barge to come catch you?” She looks at V-32, his optical sensor iris closing to show shared confusion. “I think that might be a little dangerous..”
The lead Juggermari snorts and turns back to her companions. They check their laser pistols, pulse rifles, and grenades. Khol & V-32 have little time to decide their next move as the barge’s engines hum loudly; it has reached the clearing. Part of Khol wants to return to The Mutara, but she also can’t imagine these young Juggermari will stand a chance.
Khol asks V-32 how confident he is about firing a shot to disable just one of the barge’s engines. He looks at the ship, making calculations in microseconds. “100% sure, as always,” the bot replies. Khol hopes his cockiness is warranted.
V-23 misses the engine, his pulse bolt striking a non-critical part of the barge. Immediately, they are spotted, and laser fire erupts from the ship in their direction, targeting V-32.
Khol has to return to The Mutara, and these Juggermari are coming along. She brings up a commanding tone and shouts at everyone to get the hell on the ship right fucking now! The Juggermari’s eyes widened, and they grabbed their things and followed as she led the charge to the waiting vessel.
In the ship, Khol finds the engines slow to start. The barge gets off a couple good shots that damage non-critical parts of The Mutara. She guides the ship higher than the barge can reach and makes distance between them and her.
Khol lets V-32 take the helm and goes back to check on their passengers. The one who showed so much annoyance towards Khol speaks first. She tries to explain that she and her friends would ambush the hunting barge. Khol eyes their rusted, surplus weapons. “You weren’t taking that down with those. I know why you want to hurt them, but you were going to get yourself killed.”
The Juggermari calms down. Introduces herself: Mash Calla. She’s part of the Thundertrunk herd from a nearby village. Khol shares some rations with her guests and asks if they know of Latia Kateen.
New NPC connection: Mash Calla – point of contact on Murn
Mash and her friends suddenly light up. Yes, they chatter, eliciting excited trumpets. Khol gathers that Kateen is a leader of some kind. She catches a mention of an extensive settlement called Osseus. Khol stifles a laugh and calms the young Juggermari down. Mash explains that they would take her to Osseus, but their village’s only hovercraft has been broken for months. Craft like the Mutara aren’t safe because of the recent arrival of Imperium forces with this hunting party. The hover will be better to hide in.
Khol reasons she might have something in her undelivered cargo that could help. That would mean giving up on a future profit. As much as she can’t bear to part from the money…but she can, though. It feels easier than she imagined it would. She lets Mash and their friends know, and they help navigate the Mutara to their small village of Shan.
Wedra’s tantrum at the Juggermari escape left Talus half drenched in Dradit juice, and he politely excused himself to have his vacc suit cleaned. By the time Talus returned, his red & black rubber casing now polished to perfection, the crew of the hunting barge was preparing for an arrival. It took a few questions as they rushed about, and Talus learned a Sanik-class battle cruiser had arrived in the system. A shuttle was en route carrying someone of importance.
Twenty minutes later, the hunting barge met with the shuttle in a clearing. From the observation balcony, Talus could see the masked, black-robed figure walking across the grassy field and onto the boarding ramp; moments later, Werda extended his hand and flashed that wolf’s smile. Talus detected an air of nervousness, something his employer rarely exhibited in public. Through the chatter, the Exalon garnered their visitor was Dreng Rankor. That title caused the gaseous alien to excrete a scent between a floral citrus & mildewed water. Those familiar with Exolan emotional scent language would know he was feeling terrified.
“I want access to your barge’s sensors and vid feeds,” Rankor demanded with a cold confidence. Werda screams at the barge’s crew to take Rankor to the security room immediately, that he will be given everything he asks for. When the Skygge lord leaves the observation deck, Werda collapses on his deck chair, motioning for Talus to bring him something to drink, something strong.
Khol & V-32 get the broken hovercraft in Shan working after tinkering on it for a couple hours. Mash Calla lets the elders of the Thundertrunk herd know about the journey they will be taking. At first, they voice apprehension, but when Khol fires up the broken craft, their tension relaxes, but only a bit. They aren’t willing to send the whole pack of young ones but agree to let Mash, as she is an elder sub-adult, a mere year out from taking a more prominent role in the herd.
Not long after they departed from Shan, V-32 picked up Imperium activity in the region. Mash suggests an alternate route; however, this takes them near the site of an imploded toxic waste facility left over from the former occupation. Mash warns the chemicals there have done strange things to the native animals. At first, they appear in the clear, but then something blocks their way.
(Here’s what I rolled up using some random tables)
Arboreal Finback (dangerous)
Size: Medium (person-sized)
Basic form: amorphous/elemental & fish/torpedo-shaped
First look: oversized arms, serrated teeth
Encountered behavior: climber
Revealed aspect: elemental control, trap setter
[Image source: AI-generated through Canva]
A crudely dug shallow divot in the ground causes Khol to lose control of the hover and crash it into the thick trunk of a large Equbacca tree. V-32 announces something is moving in the canopy. Khol pulls her laser pistol, as does Mash.
Descending at a speed none of the three can react to in time, The long arms of the beast swipe at Mash, attempting to dig in its claws and pull her back up to the canopy to feast. Khol finds herself looking into the black void of a predator’s eye. Its head and arms are covered in thick leaf-like scales that let it hide among the lush branches of the jungle trees.
Khol & V-32 act as a coordinated unit, taking point and opening fire on the monster to save Mash from its grasp, attempting to overwhelm it with fire.
A well-placed blast from Khol strikes one of the muscular arms of the Finback; he elicits a rapid clicking hiss, releasing Mash, who falls to the ground. She sits up, dazed, collecting herself. The Finback lunges at Khol.
One blast from V-32 and another from the Finback sends it scrambling up the tree trunk. V-32 moves to check on Mash, and Khol glances, distracted. When she looked back up, the Finback had dropped behind her from one of the massive branches above.
Khol is pushed to the ground, wrestling with the Finback. Its long snout pressed into her face. There’s no breath as the gills that line its neck pant with heavy breaths. She watched the wide mouth spread open, the serrated fangs lining its gums extending when the jaws pushed forward. Jamming her arm into the open mouth, Khol pulls the trigger on her pistol, opening a gory hole through the back of the creature’s head. It leaps off of her, flailing in its death throes, only to slam into the hovercraft. The violent gesticulations damage the craft beyond any ability to repair it in the middle of the jungle.
Khol gathers herself and checks on Mash. Mash is a little bruised, but otherwise, okay. It’s on foot from here. The three move across a nearby ridge to have a better vantage point. From there, Khol looks down on a valley where the husk of an Imperium fuel processing plant once was. Now, it’s a metal skeleton sinking into a bog of luminescent toxic chemicals that have leaked into the jungle around it.
A few clicks past the ruins of the old fuel plant, a steep incline slows the group’s progress. By the time they break through the next dense copse of tall jungle Sacczinnias, gigantic flowering plants with bold pink & yellow petals the size of raptors’ wings. On the other side is the hunting barge. Khol notices Mash’s eyes widening, and she shakes a little. “It’s going to be okay, kid,” Khol assures her. “Follow me, we’re going to sneak by.”
It’s early evening by the time Mash leads Khol & V-32 into the bustling settlement of Osseus. The large village is found nestled into a cluster of tall, wide-trunked Saccdium – colossal trees that remind Khol of the skyscrapers on Andino. Wooden walkways & suspended bridges connect the spaces attached to the arms of the mighty vegetation. A lift built from salvaged Imperium structures & vines brings the three up into the torchlit community above them.
Living spaces and shared communal structures jut out of the trunks, but most of their interiors lie within the trees, giving them the illusion that they have grown naturally. A network of thoughtfully placed support stilts line the bases of all these walkways & extensions. At first, Khol is worried Osseus will be a dangerously rickety place but quickly discovers the engineering on display is masterful. Workers emerge from using their last few hours of daylight to harvest in the fruiting canopy, bringing down colorful, plump fruits the smuggler has never seen before.
They recognize Mash after she gives a distinctive series of trumpets and bursts. Khol also notices the diversity among them. Some bear the same elephantine features of her young friend: long flexible trunks used for communication and like an extra arm, large fan-like ears that flap to cool and are adorned with piercings that communicate the individual’s role in the community, tusks that are varying states of growth and damage.
There are two more groups among them that Khol can perceive. One group bears two horns on the bridge above their nostrils. Their heads are slightly elongated, with small ears perched on top. Their bottom lips protrude and appear to have prehensile qualities, grabbing at greens from the salad they take into wooden bowls during the communal dinner. These horned Juggermari bear thick skin on the parts of their body exposed to Khol; she suspects they are quite formidable in close combat.
The second group present has broad, round heads with mouths far wider than the other variations. Two tusks protrude from the bottom of their mouths, and nostrils are positioned high up on their snouts. Khol assumes these Juggermari must be good at staying submerged in the water, just the very tops of their heads poking above the surface to grab lungs full of air. While Mash’s kind and the horned ones have a muted gray hide, these Juggermari have tinges of purple mixed with the same color.
It is from this third group that a female Juggermari emerges. She bears a slight, knowing smile. Such kind eyes. Khol feels a weight she didn’t know was on her back suddenly lift as the woman approaches. This is Latia Kateen. She wears a necklace of polished stones on a leather thong around her neck. One ear is pierced with a dangling beaded ornament, and a silver ring adorns her left nostril. Metal bands, possibly copper, decorated with ornate patterns are worn on her tusks.
“They tell me you have something for me, young human,” Latia says as she sits next to Khol at the communal table.
Khol reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out the datastick. “I think I have a way to save your people.”
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