[R16 - Tatooine - NR3F] SoF - Fight, Flight and Freeze

Season III

Last Post by Sentinel_Brix 2 months ago

2 Posts

2 Users

1 Reactions

182 Views

RSS

Niblet

(@niblet)

Posts: 2

New Member

Topic starter

Sands of Fortune - Families of Mos Espa

Golden Opportunity

Waff had finally secured a gig that aligned with his interest… blasting; his contractee being Bib the Slimy. Those who have worked for Bib often remark that collecting the credits after the fact is more laborious than the work itself. This job gives plenty of room for operational freedom and Waff always was an overachiever when it came to slinging bolts. It should be a free sack of credits(enough to finally get off world); these self proclaimed aristocrats don’t have half a mind for security.

The Targets

The mother of Dok Strassi rules house T'doshok on Tatooine from the shadows of Mos Espa, while leaving the figurehead positions to her hatchlings. The mother has been cracking down on the business district with a plasteel fist. She has arranged an evening meeting with the Aqualish family chief enforcer and the Klatooinian family Head Portmaster of Mos Espa with the aim to standardize corrective punishments throughout their fiefdoms. Waff decided he would strike his targets before entering their meeting in the trandoshan owned underground spotchka refinery, where they held private tastings and gatherings. Waff would pay a street urchin with fruit to delay one of the targets so that the three would arrive at the same time.

Due Diligence

It didn’t take any research to know that this trandoshan matriarch is a fighter, what some digging has revealed is that she only kills by hand to please her goddess; too proud to carry a blaster. Next, the aqualish chief enforcer; uncle to Garfalaquox, a shrewd delegator but quite unfamiliar with violence, surely he will flee at the first sign of threat, need to be quick. The Klatooinian Portmaster; a brother in the head family who has achieved his position based on family name alone. By all accounts a useless being, his brothers wouldn’t let him scrub the floor without supervision. They likely have him followed at all times, should expect a hidden combatant amidst the crowd.

Surprise from Above

An all too familiar scene to Waff, the blaster ambush starts and one or two below him dart off that instant, while the majority are a couple heart beats delayed in identifying the disturbance. Just like the dozens of bristling womp rat nests that Waff had reduced to steaming silence, the “creatures” below him reveal their instincts in a frenzy; fleeing, squaring up and some stunned to inaction. Waff chose this place knowing that he would sink into muscle memory and his awareness would focus into the deep flow state of target selection. The mask puffing stimulants into his three lungs certainly helped with speed as well.

Aftermath

Trandoshan mother dead. Aqualish uncle dead. Klatooinian brother found cowering among well armed, dead goons. Examples made. Word will spread fast, now all that’s left is payment…

Spoiler

The life of Waff

Waff lived on the scorched sand ball for most of his life, when he tried to remember the time before, the fragmented memories only brought confusion and pain. The closest thing he ever had to a family here was his late master who taught him how to shoot and would sometimes hint that Waff was not like the other slave stock. After his master’s life and land were taken in a raid, Waff spent every credit he could spare on blaster gas cartridges, he reduced countless stone targets to burnt sand and glass. Eventually he moved on to living targets; for months he traveled back and forth across the wastes by speeder blasting anything that moved; mostly womp rats, even entering their burrows which he found strangely nostalgic. After a few close calls with the hardy rats where one or two shots was not enough, Waff would learn to tune his blasters to emit a much higher thermal yield for a standard bolt while still holding form out to medium range; and he started custom mixing the gases himself. Waff spent many sleepless nights cleaning and tuning his trusty blasters; thinking of his old master, thinking of revenge.