The underbelly of Nar Shaddaa was a foul place to live. Although the planet was famous for being filthy, the filth down below was rancid. For years, all kinds of trash consisting of both living beings and inanimate objects were discarded. Soon a treasure heap of garbage was formed. However, as the old saying goes, "one man's trash is another Twi'lek's treasure." Finding security amid the museum of ancient treasures, Tarizza was able to build a small settlement and unite the ragtag band of misfits scattered about the lower city. The Street Rats, as they came to be known, consisted of an enterprising crew of young and old from across the galaxy which sought revenge on both the government and crime-lords whose co-dependent relationship had birthed such horror the the galaxy.
The Street Rats were one the move once again. The crew had received word that a fresh batch of entertainment had arrived from off world. This not only meant a chance to free slaves, but provided an opportunity to take revenge on the hutt slavers who furnish and train the business of “entertainment†on Nar Shaddaa. The underground city provided access routes to nearly every point of interest on the city surface. Tarizza and a group of five of their elite street fighters traversed the caverns inching towards their destination.
“Get up Tarizza…I think we should call this off.â€
“No! No, I will be fine.†Tarizza clutched her head with both hands as her First Elite positioned her back on her feet.
“What did you see?†The bulky Mandalorian First Elite asked candidly.
“Nothing which pertains to the mission up there. Go on ahead, you don’t need me.†Tarizza responded dizzily consumed by clouded visions which called to her from the shadows.
“Ehhhh. Come on boys, let’s reek some havoc!†The Mandalorian rallied the troops to follow.
Tarizza shook her head, but the clouded fog in her vision stretch forth like a pathway. This was not the first time Tarizza had experienced strange visions which have pulled her to certain objects and people. It didn’t happen often, but none of the visions before had knocked her to the floor. This vision pulled her forward as if something else was in control of her body.
Meters from where she was knocked unconscious the vision stopped. She stood amongst ruins of dilapidated buildings. The materials around her were not typical of the Nar Shaddaa. They were ancient stones which tingled her sense when she touched them. Hues of red seethed through the stones like lightening in fog, pointing her inwards towards the center of the ruin. The she realized this was an ancient training facility. She found herself in a weapon cache, consisting of mostly melee weapons. On the walls, Tarizza saw mounds of credits and a few treasures for herself. Although preferring blasters, Tarizza knew how to handle a sword when the occasion arose. She found melee weapons to be extremely beautiful, and hoped that one day she would lean to handle them as gracefully as the holovids depicted.
On the far wall centered in plain view was a resplendent sword. It glistened amid the darkness and seemed to vibrate as if begging to be taken. Tarizza ceremoniously walked towards the sword. She could not understand its language, but it called to her. Without hesitation, she stretched forth her hand to clutch the sword, but it jumped to her hand. The moment the leather straps on the hilt made contact, another visions consumed Tarizza’s mind. Thousands of years of galactic history flashed before her. She saw ancients warriors with swords dressed in robes, similar to the rumored Jedi she had always heard about. She saw brilliant colored energy bales of green, blue, and yellow met with crimson red. She saw people of crimson Skin…and the very sword she held in her hand.
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Tarizza
The Street Rats were one the move once again. The crew had received word that a fresh batch of entertainment had arrived from off world. This not only meant a chance to free slaves, but provided an opportunity to take revenge on the hutt slavers who furnish and train the business of “entertainment†on Nar Shaddaa. The underground city provided access routes to nearly every point of interest on the city surface. Tarizza and a group of five of their elite street fighters traversed the caverns inching towards their destination.
“Get up Tarizza…I think we should call this off.â€
“No! No, I will be fine.†Tarizza clutched her head with both hands as her First Elite positioned her back on her feet.
“What did you see?†The bulky Mandalorian First Elite asked candidly.
“Nothing which pertains to the mission up there. Go on ahead, you don’t need me.†Tarizza responded dizzily consumed by clouded visions which called to her from the shadows.
“Ehhhh. Come on boys, let’s reek some havoc!†The Mandalorian rallied the troops to follow.
Tarizza shook her head, but the clouded fog in her vision stretch forth like a pathway. This was not the first time Tarizza had experienced strange visions which have pulled her to certain objects and people. It didn’t happen often, but none of the visions before had knocked her to the floor. This vision pulled her forward as if something else was in control of her body.
Meters from where she was knocked unconscious the vision stopped. She stood amongst ruins of dilapidated buildings. The materials around her were not typical of the Nar Shaddaa. They were ancient stones which tingled her sense when she touched them. Hues of red seethed through the stones like lightening in fog, pointing her inwards towards the center of the ruin. The she realized this was an ancient training facility. She found herself in a weapon cache, consisting of mostly melee weapons. On the walls, Tarizza saw mounds of credits and a few treasures for herself. Although preferring blasters, Tarizza knew how to handle a sword when the occasion arose. She found melee weapons to be extremely beautiful, and hoped that one day she would lean to handle them as gracefully as the holovids depicted.
On the far wall centered in plain view was a resplendent sword. It glistened amid the darkness and seemed to vibrate as if begging to be taken. Tarizza ceremoniously walked towards the sword. She could not understand its language, but it called to her. Without hesitation, she stretched forth her hand to clutch the sword, but it jumped to her hand. The moment the leather straps on the hilt made contact, another visions consumed Tarizza’s mind. Thousands of years of galactic history flashed before her. She saw ancients warriors with swords dressed in robes, similar to the rumored Jedi she had always heard about. She saw brilliant colored energy bales of green, blue, and yellow met with crimson red. She saw people of crimson Skin…and the very sword she held in her hand.
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Tarizza