The Beast of Bacrana

He did not exactly open his eyes as he felt the ship jostling, but awareness came to them. The liner was too vast to be truly moved, its hold filled with victuals it would exchange with rich ore, its berths overloaded with fresh-eyed prospectors it would replace with weary, soot-stained ex-frontiersmen.

His eyes went from dull and gray to a pale green, as inscrutable structures behind their compound lenses rearranged themselves. They keenly scanned the common sleeping berth. His ammonia booth had been taken, and he had simply sat on the floor. Many seemed to want to land on this world. Some, apparently, so badly they could not bother to be listed on the manifest.

His gaze did not have to travel far to be met with another, an ortolan child seated across the aisle. Its beady black eyes were rapt with curiosity, taken by the stillness of its fellow traveller.

"Hello." The child's greeting was forward. Ordinary.

He found himself compelled to respond. One arm lifted from his leg, its first finger extended slightly. It was not quite a wave, more an acknowledgement.

"Are you a Jedi?" The question was abrupt. Almost too swift. Once the formality of greeting had passed, clearly, the child had no more use for decorum.

He took his first breath of the hour, his throat rumbling, his speech amplified just slightly by the vocoder built into his mask. His voice seemed to vibrate, a hoarse croak one might associate with disuse, were it not for his mask and insectile countenance. "Yes."

"I thought so. I saw your laser sword. Mum said it was a glow rod but I knew better."

He lowered his hand to the accoutrment hanging from his belt. A netted pouch carrying a handful of sanitary items. Two spare tanks of ammonia gas. And his lightsaber. A blocky thing with greenish brasslike fittings, wrapped around with cross-hatched rubber, for easy grip with both of his small, three-fingered hands. Perhaps, given his small frame, a shoto would have been less conspicuous, but he had learned what his Master had trained him. If he wanted a weapon to be easy, to work its way up his chain of intuition, he would carry a blaster.

He did not share these thoughts with the child. The child tried to mask its disappointment with another question.

"Can I see it?"

"It is not for showing."

The child inhaled, but what words it had planned to exhale were lost in a gasp of surprise, as two turquoise hands swept around it. He turned his head to the large, female ortolan, now putting the child over her shoulder, letting it get a look at its father, a bit further past the bulkhead. She dipped slightly, as much of a curt bow as she could manage while wrangling a squirming adolescent. "A thousand apologies, master Jedi... Gand... sir." She stumbled a little over the conflicting cultural honorifics.

"This Gand is not troubled," he spoke, perhaps not-so-subtly smoothing her tangled tongue. He lifted his hand again, flexing it open in a soft gesture of absolution and contrition. A versatile somatic trick among the fragmented unGand. It had not offended anyone yet.

The woman took a moment, turning around, and giving her child a whispered scolding. The young ortolan ran to the shelter of its father. But she hesitated.

He made no move, not to wave her away, nor welcome her.

"There won't... be, any trouble, will there? Master Jedi?" Her head turned, and she gave him a worried look.

He could sense her unease. She was concerned to see one of the Jedi coming to such a world, where she had seen fit to stay with her children, at least for a time. Her use of his title had been as unsubtle as his correction.

His breath mask hissed as he took in a deeper breath to answer her, hopefully more fully. "It is the Order's hope that this Gand's presence here will ensure that there is no trouble." His mask hissed again as he inhaled. "It is a courtesy that the Order and This Gand extend to the many new colonists here, and the peoples and companies that employ them."

It was true. The Order hoped that the presence of a Jedi Knight, however freshly engraved that title was, would encourage both the burgeoning criminal element and the overbearing corporations who sought to exploit this new, novel administrative state to step a little more lightly. His real job here was to cool the temperature of this venture by merely existing. It was hoped that the expected light administrative duties would enhance his 'soft' skills, as his Master had put it. And he would have the chance to meditate and explore the mysteries of the force outside of the confines of his temple, without the guidance of his Master.

Independently.

A mandible quivered against the seal of his mask, the pressure beginning to rise again in his temples. This was a test in more ways than one.

He turned to the woman. He was not capable of smiling. He was barely capable of modulating his voice. But he sought to reassure her. To smooth over the ripples of fear.

His mask clicked twice, as he drew in two short breaths. One for himself, and one to speak again. "There will be no trouble."

This was a mistake. It had to be. He'd sort it out as soon as he could find a comm station. He had done well in tests, his attending doctor spoke highly of him, how could they punish him like this. Sure, they paid for his way through medical school and he'd work it off. He just hadn't expected that the company that paid his way would be bought up by a mining corporation. Of course he could refuse, but then he'd have to pay them back. He'd be in debt for decades. No better to work the system and be debt free in a fraction of the time.

He stepped out of the shuttle, the sun stinging his eyes, despite the dust in the air. It was four steps off the terminal before his expensive shoes was ruined by the muddy ground. At least he had a welcoming comittee as in front of him stood a Zabrak in oil stained coveralls.

"Welcome doc," the Zabrak smiled and held out an equally stained hand. Deng took it hesitantly.

"Thanks, but I believe there's been a mistake," Deng replied. "I will sort this out and be out of here within a week."

"Long as you do your job while you're here," the Zabrak said.

"I won't turn away anyone needing help," Deng said and followed the Zabrak into a landspeeder. He could do this he thought. Just a week or two tops and he'd get this sorted out and get back to the Core Worlds.

6 months later

"Put Mr. Javand in examination room 2, I'll be with him in a moment," Deng stuck his upper body out the door of his modest office to notify the reseptionist.

He closed the door and sat back down behind the desk. "Sorry about that," he said to local representative of the Lant Mining Corp. "Now where was we."

"You were trying to explain to me how you shouldn't be here," the corporate agent said with a smile. "But the thing is you signed a contract, and unless you can pay it down, you are stuck here. These people need a doctor."

"I signed with a local ore processing company company on Corellia, I thought the stipulation that I would have to move meant another city," Deng said with a sigh.

"And when we bought that company and all its contracts that move got a bit further than you expected,"" the corp agent replied. "But as it stands my hands are tied. The people here deserve medical attention, and you have 3 year left on the contract."

The two was interrupted by the door to the office bursting open. "Doc you need to come. Been an accident at mine 34."

Without thinking, Deng grabbed his doctors bag and was halfway out the door. "Don't think this conversation is over," Deng told the corp agent.

Rushing past the receptionist Deng suddenly remembered. "Apologize to Mr. Javand, try to reschedule."

Reynar Thonn jokingly referred to the Cantina as 'his office." It was true enough, this was were he did most of his business. Of all the wretched hives of scum and villainy out there The Mineshaft certainly was one of the wretchedest. Everybody has a side hustle, small time spice dealers, gamblers, black marketeers, a bounty hunter fit right in.

Problem was bounty pucks had been in short supply lately. It was so bad the droid had turned himself off for a week, Reynar didn't have that option, not with his current booze and spice budget anyway. He'd considered taking up an honest trade, like sabacc, but the pickings here? He was better off contacting the guild every standard week to see if they'd send him somewhere else, anywhere else.

But evidently he hadn't paid his penance yet. The Guild liked their hunters professional, it gave clients confidence. You could hire a triggerman for fifty cred, probably less, but you'd get what you paid for. "Reynar, you need to stop thinking with your blaster," the said. "If you want to get tapped for big time jobs you gotta be clean, no collateral damage. Follow the rules...". So he stayed here, as far from the big time as you could get. You couldn't even see the big time from here.

"Got anything?". He looked at the bartender. "Smugglers? Non guild miners? Anything?". The Arcona behind the bar blinked his gold eyes at Reynar, he was salted to the gills. No help there. Maybe he'd contact the guild, or see if the droid moved, the fun never stopped on Barcana.

Garrik Kade stepped off the transport and took a slow look across Bacrana’s settlement. New structures, fresh mining equipment, and too many people trying to make a living in a place that didn’t seem ready for them yet. The cold wind didn’t bother him. He’d worked harsher worlds.

The contract had been vague. Something about losses outside the perimeter and locals talking about a beast. That was enough to get his attention. Frontier colonies rarely asked for help unless things were already going wrong.

He adjusted the rifle on his shoulder and started toward the main hall, moving with the steady patience of someone used to watching before acting. He wasn’t here to make friends.

Just to see what kind of trouble Bacrana was hiding.

"You think we're safe here?" Deng asked his receptionist, braving another peek out the window. Right now they seemed content yelling out and booing the administrator, but how long before they decided to storm the building. And how long would the doors hold out when that happened.

With a grimace he took a sip at what passed for caf out here. He still hadn't gotten used to the taste. The first thing he would do once back to Coruscant was visit one of the many caf shops for a proper blend.

He was half a mind to go tell Director to say whatever he had to, to calm the masses. But secretly he had sympathy for the miners, after all he was forced to work here against his will as well.

The Gand peered through the layers of plastiglas between himself and the child, seeing concern etched on his face. He paused a moment, then found his feet. He took his breath-mask from the hook near the door, and stepped into the airlock, his mandibles comfortably interlocking around the rubbery seal that kept out the corrosive oxygen.

As the thin airlock cycled, he took his robe from the hook outside, putting it over his tunic. It had been sprayed with deodorant and lined with packets of a soft powder that, according to the locals, took the edge off. The smell of ammonia, he had heard, was quite pungent and distracting.

Only once he had properly settled, emerged from his thoughts and into the present moment, did he speak to the boy, hoping he had calmed down. "Speak about this trouble."

"Someone's going to get hurt if they don't calm down," Deng sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

He stands there a moment, looking out before he decides something has to be done. But not by him. They looked ready to rip apart the first person to leave the offices. It wasn't his job to negotiate pay.

He walks over to the office of the guy whose job it actually is, Director Dorell. He knocks on the door before entering.

"Are you going to do something about what's going on out there?" he asks. "They are going to get us or themselves hurt. And dead miners can't work last I checked."

He knew imploring to Director Dorell's better nature would fail outright, as he suspected the director just didn't have any. Instead he had to get it down to numbers. "Next supply drop is weeks away, and so is any replacement workers. How do you think a month of reduced production would look on your performance review. I'd stand a better chance to get out of here before you."

He eyed the child impassively. Perhaps the child knew, or simply intuited, that he had no real intention of policing his activity. It was not his jurisdiction. And besides, he did not want to lose the child's trust. Parenting was for parents, and strangers needed all of the sources of information they could muster, especially in small communities.

"This Gand will see if this is trouble," he said, noncommittally, as he swept out of the office. He glanced at the town's chronometer, then headed for the transit station, hoping he could compel some member of the motor pool to expedite transport to the site.

Thankfully, his miniscule frame did little to strain the child's speeder bike. He would have to look into getting one for himself, as he hadn't anticipated having to come all the way down to the mine. Not without invitation, of course. Things seemed to be a bit more... heated on this planet than he had anticipated.

He looked back over his shoulder, and pointed back towards the settlement. He did not insist the boy leave, but his suggestion was very clear.

With the racous settlers shouting ahead, he approached the droid, looking up at it from his disadvantaged position, stopping before the riot shield as if it were merely a reception desk.

His mask clicked, and after a hissing inhale, he said, "This Gand would speak to the aggrieved parties," as if it were a protocol droid, and not a hulking barely-restrained killing machine.

Reynar looked out at the protestors, looking for any signs as to what the general protest was about. It didn't take much to spark unrest, as one of the company's main profit streams was screwing over the workers. He pulled out his blaster and checked it. It was a new piece, he payed too much for it back in Empress Teta, they sid the beam was bright enough to blind a Rancor at 10 meters, but then again if you were 10 meters from a Rancor, you were done for, even if it was blind.

Now that he thought about it he did have one card to play. "I know a guy inside the mining camp. One of the med staff, he's done some work on me when captures have gone sideways.". He fished his comlink out of his pocket. Time to contact Doctor Arden.

Deng is about to give the director a reply when he hear the chirping of his comlink. "Let's put a pin in this," he says with a sigh, and retreats back to his own office.

"Doctor Ardan," he answers the call distractedly. He's paying more attention out the window, in case the mob should turn violent.

"Doc it's Reynar Thonn, I've got visual on a bunch of angry miners headed your way. Do you require extraction?" Reynar doubted they were after the doctor specifically, but some of 'em might not be too particular once the mayhem starts. And considering usual strikebreaking tactics were a baton to protester's skull, he be willing to bet on mayhem.

"Please say yes M8 looks bored."

"Anywhere else sounds like a good idea right now," Deng replies, once again peeking out the window. "But afraid seeing anyone coming or going would alight the powder keg."

"That will do." His mask hissed as he stepped past the guard droid, only to pause. Consciously recalling his protocol training, he turned. "Thank... ....thanks." he stumbled a bit. However immerse he was in Basic, he had never quite mastered the simple formal pleasantries, nor the informal modes of address.

He nodded at the droid, as if formally acknowledging the end of the interaction, and moved towards the woman he indicated. She seemed to hold some sway over the crowd. He approached her, passing through the crowd with the effortlessness of the very small. His hands folded in front of him as he listened, his eyes unfocusing for a moment as he felt a tremor, a confluence of her words and the Force. On this he would have to meditate. Though he found it strange to be telling such a story at the head of a protest. Was there a safety concern?

He emerged from the front of the crowd, standing out from them by his stillness, and his cleaned and pressed pale indigo diplomat's robe serve as introduction without interruption. He could wait until she was finished.

Kitichik listened carefully to the speech, not speaking, remaining still. In his mind, he stripped away the rhetoric, the emotion. He mentally tallied two columns, grievances and remedies. Concrete actions that these people demanded. Once she seemed to circle back around, to repeat or layer onto her demands, to keep the crowd's energy, he made his move, simply walking towards the front door of the administrative office.

He glanced towards the window, where someone was watching, his head turning slightly, pointing at the door...

"Reynar stepped up beside MT-8. "What's with the bug?" His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for trouble, or people who were likely to start trouble. His main concern was the doctor's safety.

"The corp will want this solved fast. Work stoppages are bd for the bottom line, shareholders don't like that."

"It's happening," Deng sighs, mostly to himself more than the receptionist droid as he sees the first person in the crowd walking toward the building. At least it only seemed like one guy for the moment.

The man pointed at the door, did he want in? Was he in need of medical aid? He stares for a moment, realizes that he don't looks as angry as the rest of the crowd before hurrying over to the door and opening it quickly. He waves the stranger inside, motioning him to be quick.

Kitichik entered the building, letting the door close behind him. He saw the director rush into the room, and gave him a curt nod of greeting. There were words to be had, but they could wait. He turned to the doctor. He had a passing familiarity, knowing who was responsible for the well-being of the miners here, just from local talk. He offered him a nod as well.

"No one is hurt, so far?" Kitichik spoke directly to Deng. "The miners have expressed some safety concerns."

Deng lets out a sigh of relief as Deng closes the door behind him. He lets out a short yelp of surprise when the door opens again and Reynar enters. He quickly hurries over and closes the door again and locks it.

"We all have concern," Deng says. "I'm a mere doctor not a corporate negotiatior."

"This Gand is interested in the conditions of the miners, not the company's position on the condition of the miners. This is why this Gand has chosen to ask the doctor, and not the director." He motioned to the besuited man gesticulating wildly at the door. "What is the doctor's impression? Is there merit to these rumors of abductions?"

Deng is about to answer the Gand when he hears the door thud. He flinches in fear, thinking this is the crowd, but realizes when the attempt to open don't persist that it's just someone else trying to enter. "Expecting anyone?" he asks no one in particular, before remembering the Gand's question.

"Some miners have gone missing, though I think the official explanation is dereliction of duty," Deng replies looking over at the administrator. "Though, can't imagine where they would have run off to. Nowhere to run as far as I know. Everyone have to work harder to make up for the missing people, which leads to error and more work for me."

He realizes his explanation could come off wrong and quickly adds. "Not that I mind the work, that's what I'm here for. But wish that work didn't come with quite that many damaged limbs."

Reynar opened the door again for Matey. He didn't want the droid to feel left out, or even worse, decide to do a little freelance strike breaking. "We're getting the real story now, you'd better get in here."

"Please pardon my associate."

He nodded thoughtfully, one hand running along the edge of his breath mask. It clicked, hissing as he took a breath, stepping aside as the two mercenaries seemed to shoulder their way inside. The miners' concerns were legitimate - not that he had doubted them, what with the current of discontent and fear rippling out of them, but they were observed, acknowledged. This was important to know.

He paused, then looked up to the doctor. "The statement is appreciated."

He turned to the director, walking into the office as if invited. His hands folded in front of him, as his mask hissed once more. "The residents of this camp have expressed concerns about the conditions of the working environment, and have a list of grievances and remediations that the residents would like to see addressed." His tank hissed, as he gave the director a moment to collect himself. "What shall This Gand tell the citizens is the director's statement on these matters? When can these citizens expect redress of these conditions?"

He carefully kept his matter-of-fact tone, implying that silence was not an option - he would be communicating something to the miners outside, whatever that might mean for the conditions inside shortly thereafter...

Reynar's hand shot out, he grabbed at the directors desk as the ground rumbled. "What in the Force was that?"He looked noticeably relieved after the tremor died down. Was this related to the problem? He knew an earthquake could be disastrous to a mine. The one they just felt was no big deal, but anything bigger could be catastrophic.

He looked out a window to see what was going on outside.

Deng stands by letting the newcomers discuss with the director. It was nice having someone else voice the same concerns he had, without his complaints ending up in his employee file.

When he feels the ground rumble he quickly dart wordlessly into his office to find his doctor's bag. He had been here long enough that it probably meant a cave in. Luckily most of the workers seemed to be in the square demonstrating, so maybe any damage would be minimal, but could still be lives in danger and need of aid.

The intrusion of the mercenaries was not entirely unwelcome. Perhaps these people could serve some useful purpose in defusing the tensions. They didn't seem the sort to batter protestors, but some visible security could prevent an outbreak of real violence. And if the source of the issue was in fact some kind of creature, or a person using a creature's legend as cover for some purpose, perhaps (if he did not miss his guess), a bounty hunter of some stripe might be the solution to the problem.

The Force, sometimes, provides.

He reached out and touched the wall a few moments before the tremor struck. His thoughts turned to the laborers outside, as he watched the doctor rush to the ready. He committed himself to follow the doctor out, to render aid if needed. The doctor would know the way, but he otherwise remained still, his gaze still on the director, not betraying his intent to leave.

"Well?"

"Too far away," Deng mutters as he is packing his doctor's bag. "The mines. They are too far away."

He moves to the window to look outside as if to confirm it to himself, not that he can see the mines from here. "There is no way we'd feel it here. Not unless the whole mountain came down."

"This is something else," Deng tells everyone. "Could still be dangerous though."

The Jedi looked levelly at the director.

"Your statement is awaited."

He glanced at the doctor, who, after his immediate panic, seemed to be reconsidering the possible source of the tremor. But he knew who might be attuned to the movement of the earth.

Disengaging the door lock again, he stepped outside, looking over the crowd of miners and other locals gathered. He approached the ringleader, the woman identified as Elira Voss.

He did not bother with introductions. "Human Voss, is there a guess among the miners as to the source of the tremor some seconds ago? Is the encampment stable?"

If the droid that had blasted off didn't get a good view, perhaps they would have something to say...

"This isn't natural," Deng sighs, nervousness obvious in his voice. His knuckles white from where he's clutching hard to the doctor's bag, looking out the window. Debating to go out or stay behind where it is safe. At least safer. No one seems to need his aid yet.

The Jedi watched the droid soar into the air. He suspected there might be a vehicle approaching, but he would have the facts soon...

Reyar walked out of the office and opened up his comlink. "What do you see Matey?". He'd hoped the droid could get a better visual angle on whatever the trouble was.

Deng's brow furrows as he hears M8-T's warning. "Will the walls hold?" he asks, wondering aloud about the structual stability of the administration building. The looking around he wonders how many people they could fit in here.

"We need to get people to the storage facility," Deng says, his brain finally catching up to his panic. "The only proper building in town. Leave it to the corp to only secure the valuables."

But Deng was quite certain that he didn't have access. So he looks to the director. "You! You have access, you can get us inside."

Outside, speaking with the miners, he did not hear the general commotion about Banthas. But the cloud did rouse his interest. He cast his eyes about for a speeder bike he might borrow, to get a closer look... although he hoped the one in his size had gone back home...

"Okay, we need to get into town, the structures there weren't made by the lowest bidder. I've got a speeder bike back there, maybe we can get around the herd and see what's driving then this way." He needed to move his bike anyway, nobody covered 'trampled by stampeding banthas' as a warranty repair.

"Anybody want t come with?"

"A speeder may be able to divert the herd." He approached the speeder, apparently interesting in doing a little more than reconnaissance.

Despite thinking "That sounds incredibly dangerous" Reynar kept heading to his speeder. Hoping the Jedi would join him. Whatever weird, strange magical powers the Jedi had would make this easier to pull off, otherwise it would be him and a few stun grenades. Diverting the herd would be a pretty tall order.

Trusting the doctor and the others to effect the evacuation, he clambered up on the back of the speeder. His mask hissed, as he took in a breath, before leaning over to be heard by the driver. "First, the herd will be herded. Second, the herd will be frightened. And third... something else will be tried."

Hopefully, the howl of the speeder bike would be enough to coax and shape the stampede, and direct it away from the population, with the flash and wail of his lightsaber, if necessary...

Reynar never heard the Jedi's plan over the roar of the engine. The Jedi probably planeed to get out there and do...Jedi stuff. Banthas were dumb animals, how hard could this be right?

"Get close. As close as possible. Pull up alongside and lean in. Divert the Bantha."

He clutched the heavy lightsaber in one hand, the other holding firm to the seat of the bike. He lifted it straight above his head, and with a snap, the blade extended. The searing white light left a contrail of faintly green energy in one's vision as the energy lanced into the air.

The distinctive hum of the blade, normally the dull buzz of the tightly focused beam fighting against its equally tightly focused containment field when the blade was moved or jostled, became a rippling, warbling cacophony as he dialed back the beam's tightness, making it waver and flicker just slightly against the atmosphere whipping past it on their ride over. He hoped the bright light and terrible sound might give the beasts pause, and encourage them to change course.

Deng is concerned what will happen if the director ends up in a small room with the miners at the moment, but his need to save the most people take presedence. Still clutching his doctor's bag he starts guiding people towards the storeroom.

Making sure everyone makes it, would be cruel irony to be trampled by the crowd while avoiding being trampled by Banthas.

"Everyone this way! In a calm manner!"

He had not expected to attract them, but it was just as well. They could be more easily led. He patted Reynar's shoulder, and then motioned towards where the ground grew more rocky and uneven, a place to funnel the beasts where they might expend some of their frantic energy navigating the ground they could easily soar over, and away from the packed roads and avenues of the work camp.

"Good. The Banthas follow."

'Good' evidently meant something different in Gand than it did in Basic, Reyar thought as he bore down on the throttle of his bike. The banthas seemed to be moving their way. The Gand seemed to consider this a success, but Reyar was trying to figure a way out of this without getting his lekku stomped by stampeding banthas. He turned in the direction the Gand indicated, the bike could probably handle the rough terrain better than the banthas could, at least there was that. He might be able to use the tractor beam to impede them more, maybe even break up their formation. This was gonna take more than two stun grenades, that was for sure.

Deng stresses that the miners seems to move more as if they are leaving a concert than escaping certain doom. But at least no one is in danger of being trampled by each other at the moment. Maybe they have enough time for this speed to get it done in time.

He scans the distance, trying to judge how long they have until he'll have to get these people into safety.

Deng felt at a loss for how to spurn the people on when he sees Matey swoop in from on high and start snatching people.

"I thought you were hard men!" Deng called out, hoping to shame the men to pick up speed. "I've seen core worlders walk to the grocery store with more pep in their step than you. Are your life so little worth that you'd rather be trampled than feel your heartbeat pound!"

Reynar opened up the bike's throttle. Hopefully the banthas had more difficulty with this terrain than he did. "Let's go!"

"... Less good." His chitinous claws gripped the back of the Twi'lek's jacket as they wove through the boulder-strewn glacial mounds. They had bought some time and averted the immediate crisis, but he did not know how long the banthas would keep going. The colony, though undoubtedly better-equipped to handle an onrush of wildlife than a mere encampment, was not exactly an acceptable route for this stampede either.

With a snap, his lightsaber dissipated, pulled back into its sheath. He attached it to his belt as he scanned, contemplating his next move. "...Perhaps... they are still being driven." He tugged the jacket again. "Can this twi'lek move behind them to see?"

Reynar didn't like the way the bike rattled when he opened up the throttle. I need to get that checked, he thought as he turned the bike back toward the herd. He didn't have the lekku to go through the herd, instead he made a wide circle around the banthas, respecting the damage those trampling feet could do to the Jedi, and more importantly, to him.

"I'll get us back there, just keep your eyes out."

Deng tries to shrink himself and look as unimposing as possible. He may have judged in error, and if he should get his ass kicked which doctor could he go to. He want to untangle himself from the whole thing. With the colony threatened, his services might be needed. Most of the workers might be here yelling at him, but there were people who didn't work the mines as well. And who knows how many were just to drunk to wake up for the protest and are now sleeping.

"Look! Let's not do anything we'll regret," he tries to calm them. "We need to warn the colony. You could stand here and give me a black eye or we can try to get your families to safety!"

"Thank you sir," Deng tells the bartender and backs off towards the bar. "So how much for a bottle of..." he lowers his voice for just the bartender to hear. "..the cheap stuff."

Then he turns his attention back to the miners. "How about I buy you a couple of bottles and we call it even. I really should get to town. People will need my services. You may not care about the town, but if the company have to spend all its money rebuilding they won't be inclined to pay you any better."

He was not really able to close his eyes, or even squint properly, but he certainly gave that impression as he scanned for any signs of what might be agitating the banthas...

Reynar lowered his scanner goggles over his eyes as he peered through the kicked up dust.

Deng realize they won't be in time to stop the herd, but at least he'll be able to help those who can't get out in time. He clutches the doctors bag to his chest and moves with purpose along with the crowd.

The goggles did nothing to shed light on the current situation. He didn't have any firm plan to proceed, just a dangerous half baked plan his brain started to pull together.

"Well that was a big fat bust. Do you have any ideas?" He looked expectantly at the Jedi

"This Gand can think of one other thing, but that idea is very dangerous and ... " He paused for a second. Only the driver could hear the hiss of his mask. Had he just mistimed his breath, or was he hesitating? " ... not very good."

He glanced over at the rampaging creatures. "If this twi'lek would have this Gand make the attempt, the speeder would need to be very... very close to the leading bantha."

As the speeder edged in closer to the lead bantha, he turned around on the seat. One leg propped up on the back of the bike, as it slowed, just slightly. A hand reached out, and he felt the physical distance between them decrease. Felt the spiritual distance between them decrease.

The Bantha was a bundle of... itself. Muscle, sinew, even its rudimentary mind and personality, it was all a whorl in the force. A ripple in the fabric of the universe. Thought made manifest. And like a thought, it could be changed. Its place in the universe was as ephemeral as its thoughts.

At least in theory...

Three exoskeletal claws splayed, held steady even as the speeder bounced, and he reached across the gap with the force.

Anyone sensitive to it often described synesthesia. Most humans claimed to hear it, a dull roar, like a roaring vein heard through clenched jaw and plugged ears. He felt it, as if the air had grown thick around him, a whorl of dense wind directed by thought, and saw, visible in his peripheral vision as a faint heat mirage.

And with his will he tried to turn the beast, away into the rocks, away from the town and its inhabitants, to where its anger and frustration could be spent, and the knots of its primitive emotions could untangle themselves harmlessly...

"What now?" Deng mutters to himself. He looks around for any height where he can get a better look at the surrounding area. He's afraid the herd has changed direction and he's brought the crowd right into the path of certain doom.

"I think we're good here. The Jedi did...Jedi stuff...". He knew it might still be close, but hopefully the worst of the damage was mitigated.

He exhaled, the breath leaving his body, shoulders sagging. Tiny, clawed hands clutched the back of the speeder bike as his concentration gave way, the vast beast put off course, at least.

His respirator hissed quietly, his eyes darkening for a moment as he grappled with his own consciousness, having immersed himself deeply in the Force. The subsumption of self had proved more challenging than... well, not more challenging than he expected, but more challenging than it should have been. He would meditate on the Cosmic Force in due time. For the moment, he would have to accept his perception of Self.

"This Gand did what this Gand could do. Perhaps this deed was enough."

"Don't worry. No better place to be in an earthquake than far away from infrastructure," he tries to tell the miners, though from his voice it sounds like he's trying to convince himself as much as the miners.

"Still could be people in need of help, so we should hurry to town!"

He dismounted the bike as it entered the mining camp, his feet finding the ground. His mask gave off a hiss as he stood still for a moment, reorienting himself after the strain of the feat. He was no master, but he had done what he could.

"Stampeding banthas..." pause, click, hiss, "not a normal occurance."

He gazed in the direction that the beasts had come from, then up to the man who'd been brave enough to give him a ride. "This Gand has need of a tracker who knows this area. There is an unknown thing afoot."

Deng is almost limping as he returns to town, his legs not used to this much walking, at least not with shoes more suited for sitting in an office than long forays into the wilderness.

He looks at the crowd behind him. Luckily they were protesting today, or most of these would be in the mines when the quake hit.

He picks a few at random. "You there. Go check to see if there's been any cave ins," he orders, though his tired voice betrays his confidence.

"The rest of you. Hope you don't mind postponing the protest until we've made sure no one has become hurt. Now let's see what damage was done."

Deng don't much care about structural damage, but will take a round to make sure that no one has been damaged. Though with most of the miners out with him, he figures the biggest threat is a few hangovers next morning. While doing his round he will try to listen to the local scuttlebutt to see if anyone has any clue as to what scared the herd.

Deng is about to head out when he sees a few familiar faces. The same people who meddled earlier in the afternoon and 'broke into' the adminstration building.

He nods a greeting. "Thanks for the assistance earlier. I don't think we had time for introductions," he says. Then he remembers his manners and hold out a hand to shake. "I'm the local doctor around here. Deng Ardan. Most people around here just call me Doc... if they're in a good mood."

"This world is much like any other on most days. This day is an exception." He approached the doctor, who had seemed to keep a cool head during the crisis. "Is this doctor familiar with any veterinary medicine?"

Deng looks surprised at the question. "Uhm.. I know which end of the animal is front and back," he says with a shrug. "I suppose there's some skills that could be equally applied to all genuses. I mean, if something is shot you have to stop the bleeding, but beyond that I don't know much about animal care. Didn't even have pets growing up. Allergies."

His arms folded slowly, hands disappearing into opposite sleeves. It was difficult to tell if he had them crossed with disappointment.

"This child stayed here. Why?"

"This human knows the local banthas' migrations." His breath hissed for a moment. It was a statement, more than a question, an acknowledgement of fact. "Put the human down. This Jedi does not expect the human to harm anyone."

His breath hissed again, as he paused. "What would compel the banthas to move with such recklessness? This is the question. A herd of creatures of that size is not so easily... spooked."

"So two uncommon occurences in a row is what you're saying," Deng says with a shrug. "Could it be some mining equipment that malfunctioned?"

Deng searches his pockets, suddenly remembering he had a small bag with beef jerkey. He produces it and offers to the kid.

"You hungry?" he asks in a friendly manner. "You really don't have to be nervous of us. More bark than bite."

Kitichik remained outwardly impassive. It was difficult at the best of times to read his expression, with his breath mask covering the motile parts of his face. The rest, including his segmented eyes, were held rigid by exoskeleton. He didn't exactly exude empathy. It did not help that his mastery of Basic was just great enough to be uncanny when his cultural more's collided with linguistic norms.

But he did choose his words very carefully.

"This Gand is looking for more information on the stampede and what might have caused it. But there are very few clues. If this Gand does not discover anything, well, this Gand will have to return to his office and report to the civic authorities on the happenings here in the camp. The town council will be curious to know what happened."

His mask hissed as he inhaled deeply. He was not often so verbose. "Of course, if this Gand is headed back into the town, it wuld be prudent of this Gand to ensure that this human is returned safely to this human's family. I am sure this human's mother would be relieved to know where the human had been during this dangerous incident." There was a click as he inhaled again, and another as he tapped the side of his mask, running over its intake hose, a tactile tick that appeared very similar to tapping his chin in thought.

"Of course, if this Gand had more urgent information to act upon, this Gand would surely have no choice but to trust this human to return promptly of this human's own devices, and communicate this human's safety and well-being in this human's own words, which this Gand can only trust will be as accurate and prompt as this Gand's own report. It would, of course, be regrettable if this human's... excessive bravery and bold initiative in assisting this Gand's duties went unreported to the human's parental couple, simply because this Gand had pressing matters to attend to."

"Or this Gand could be told where it is." Kitichik had been indulgent with the child, but he did not want to put him in any danger, if there was some kind of predator or even malicious actor out in the field. "If there is a bantha, wounded or dead, what killed it may still be in that place." His conjecture might reveal why he wanted Deng to accompany him - to determine the cause of death for anything nearby that might have spooked the herd.

"Well no use standing around talking about it," Deng says. "Let's just get out there and get it over with."

Kitichik folded his arms and looked towards the droid and doctor, confident they would agree that the small child might be unnecessarily endangered tagging along.

"Could you not just point out on a map where we're going?" Deng asks the kid.

"Well, don't feel much like being buried under rock so guess you'll have to come along," Deng sighs. "Just stick in the back with me if things go sideways."

Deng realizes that if things go sideway, Kordath is probably far more prepared than him to deal with it.

Deng goes silent suddenly as he sees the director coming towards them. What now? he thinks to himself.

He move towards the director, with a forced smile on his face. "Director Dorell? Do you need something?"

Thalen watched the, what to him seemed a rather heated, confrontation. While it seemed to be about an excursion and the need for a guide. Seeing the director beginning to rush over to most likely give some asinine answer to the question he was being asked, Thalen quickly stepped over, between Deng and the director, his hand extended in greeting.

"I believe that Director Dorell was coming over to offer you my services since he’s aware that I know my way around out in that terrain. I may not be local, but I have done a bit of guiding from time to time.

Thalen Darden, at your service."

He glanced up at Deng, and then at Matey, who both seemed to vouch for the boy. He had expressed his doubts and been gainsaid. His breath mask hissed, a punctuation mark on the conversation.

"This Gand's business will take this Gand elsewhere for the time being," he noncommitally reassured the director, who clearly just wanted to exercise some control over the situation. His gaze turned to the other human who approached them. His head inclined slightly, a somewhat awkward nod of greeting. "This Gand would welcome additional help. This group should move with haste - much time has already been lost. This Gand does not want to miss signs of what agitated the bantha." He motioned towards where the herd had come barreling in from.

Thalen looked a lot more comfortable once they were out of town and moving through open country. He settled into the saddle, adjusted the rifle across his back, and let his eyes wander over the torn ground ahead.

"Kid’s got the right idea," he said, mostly to himself. "Better than sitting around waiting for somebody else to figure it out."

He glanced down at the trail as they rode, then over the nearby brush and rocks. Old habit more than anything else.

"If anybody sees something strange, try not to ride over it."

That was about as much instruction as he seemed interested in giving. After that, he just fell into the ride, keeping an eye on Kordath and whatever signs the trail left behind.

Deng is barely paying attention to the conversation. All his focus is dedicated to not falling off. Before heading off, he quickly ran back to his office and brought along an old blaster that he once got as payment from a pasient down on his luck. As he rides into what could be danger, he thinks he should have checked if it even works.

The Jedi remained quiet along the trip, concentrating on the beast beneath him. He had been raised in the temple on Coruscant. Though no great pilot, he was more familiar with an air speeder than this rough creature. He could only trust that it would follow its fellows.

He hadn't had the need to stock up, trusting in the Force and his modest utility kit to provide. He didn't expect to be trekking through the wilderness for weeks, after all.

His body shifted, trying to get a view of the coming plains, hoping there would be some clue to uncover there. Raising all this ruckus with nothing to show for it would undoubtedly not go over well with the locals, and he didn't want to stir the pot any more than it had been, with the miners so on edge...

"Could the birds scare a whole herd?" Deng wondered aloud. "And if they are scary enough to chase a herd, should we find a cave or something to take shelter in?"

Fidgeting a bit uncomfortably in the saddle, Thalen frowned and watched the eagles circle. "I think we just need to keep an eye out. If they start down our way, then we may need to get some kind of cover. For them to be this far down out of the high ground there has to be a solid reason. If something or someone stole an egg from their nest, that sort of thing. "