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| - Paxo: Ternab Hills At the base of Mount Kraskhara, the Doma Plains transform themselves into a series of stunted hills. Occassionally dotted by slags and vents of volatile chemicals, the Ternab Hills once were mined for raw materials. Now, however, Paxo's industry claims much of their raw materials from off planet. Poking through the thin atmosphere, Muont Kraskhara looms above you. To the west lie the plains, and to the southwest lies the Artho Craterlands and the Halidome. Dunerunner lands in the distant plain, and her pilot wanders eastward towards Mount Kraskhara. Kneeling not far into the foothills is Haquien, wearing a long, dark jacket. He studies the grass below him while a water bottle rests around his neck. The grasses sway in the afternoon breeze with the faint sounds of wildlife in the plains. And over that, the sound of marching feet. Getting closer. Haquien doesn't pay attention to the marching, it seems, though a moment later he does stand and stretch. Looking to the moutain, he begins to walk again. His steps are light and casual, more of a wanderers pace than a hiker's or soldier's. A small detachment of armed men crests a hill, and at their lead, a tiny woman with a stern air about her and a black eyepatch over one eye. "A little far to be sightseeing, aren't you?" She calls out to the man harshly, though from the distance, she cannot tell who it is, it appears. The man pauses, one foot crushing the gravel beneath him. He smiles a little, then mutters, "That's strange." Standing there, he tilts his head slightly to the side to look over his shoulder, then frowns. "Very strange." He mutters again. Calling back, Haquien says, "Not from where I'm standing!" "The Lady of Paxo is generous to visitors who wish to enjoy the bounties of her planet, but a strange ship, you fly. Not much of.. a leisure ship." Rem barks out again, letting the wind carry her voice. "I request merely some identification, and you may go on your way. We are peaceful here, but refusal would be.. unwise." Haquien smiles a little and reaches into his pocket. "You don't need to see my identification," he calls back. He turns fully and faces Rem, then crosses his arms across his chest. He waits where he is, his coat flapping gently with the wind. White lines give away mostly-healed scars. His left eye, though, is a little pale and has a nasty scar across it, and nearly all around it. His bone structure is fine, though. Rem holds in place a moment, her eye narrows. ".. Haquien?" she breathes. She takes a slow step forward and lifts her hand to stop the men behind her from following, approaching slowly and alone. ".. I didn't expect to see you alive.. old friend." she says, a touch softer. Maybe even sad. "Alive and.. mostly well," he notes simply. His left eye doesn't move, it just sort of stays focused forward. Frowning a little, Haquien adds, "Myriad started bragging too soon, I take it?" He extends his ID forward, uncrossing his arms as he does so. "Never brags. He's gentle," Rem says softly. "He even worried over your fate. You Republic types judge them so quickly..." She hands back the ID. "I know who you are, there was no need for this. Why are you here, Haquien?" A half-smile. "Checking up on dear, old me?" "He only cares because of something that happened," Haquien explains. "I might note his sincerity, if he hadn't shred my face apart." He pauses, taking the ID back, which he deposits back in his pocket. "Decided to have a look at home. Check up on family. My dad and I used to hike this moutain, back before the war." He gestures up to it. "Anyway, I see you made it out alive, thanks to Amalfiel. Feeling OK?" Rem's hand goes up to touch her eye patch. "I've had better days. But then.. so have you, it seems." There's something akin to sadness in her voice, but still rather harsh - the tone of someone whom life gave a solid backhand. She turns a half-heel, putting her side to the man, studying him with her good eye. "I never got a chance to thank you. For saving my life.. the first time." "Is your family still here on Paxo, then?" She changes the subject quickly, after a quick sniff of the air. "Old wounds heal with time," Haquien explains, nodding. He gives her a weak smile, adding, "I don't regret it. I'd do it again, but I doubt that, next time, I'll be able. They're after you, Rem, and they want you bad." He pauses. "Father, mother, and sister. My father works for Income, haven't seen any of them in two years. Think I'll be able to get into Pax City?" Rem pouts and lets out a dramatized sigh. "There's nothing wrong with being badly wanted.." Her mouth quirks into a half smile. "But, I suppose the context makes it less desirable." She turns again to face the man and lifts her eye patch, exposing the gaping hole of an eye socket, eyelids faintly quivering to cover something no longer there. "I gave Legion-- Amalfiel-- my eye for saving my life. You? I give you the freedom to explore Paxo as you wish." The patch snaps down to cover the wound. "Come and go as you please. We are not the Republic to shoot you down, imprison you, or put you through a mockery of a trial." Her remaining eye darts around wildly, a hidden rage despite the sweet words and smile. "The trial was to imprison," Haquien notes, "a far better fate than what that sniper had in store." He stares into the gaping hole with concern only, then says, "I won't cause any trouble, and I'll keep my hands to myself. There are only two other people I'd like to speak with while I'm here, anyway, besides my family. Then I'll go." He sighs. "Will you give me some sort of pass or permit? I know at least one of your comrades that might take any opportunity to have a go at me." "You're so convinced the Republic would have treated me fairly?" Rem lilts, clearly amused. "My dear Haquien, I did not think you so naive. An honorable death in combat, on land or in the skies would have been preferred, but I was denied that as well." Her hands move to pluck her badge from her uniform breast. "Here. Until you have a moment with the Lady Bellamy and get formal paperwork, this will do." She holds it out with an aloof air of superiority. "There are two ways to get this - and I am still very much alive, so the guards will know. Simply leave your weapons, should you carry them, at the checkpoints, and you will be allowed to pass freely." "You would have been given a fair trial," Haquien notes with a nod. "Had you been captured in battle, surrendered, you would have been taken to Sullust and let go. Those are our standing orders." He takes the badge and looks it over, nodding, then pockets it. "I left my carbine on my ship." Smiling, he adds, "Want to finish the hike with me? Should only take about four hours." Rem throws her head back and laughs. Simple and hollow, like the plains. "Yes, I'm sure that's what would have happened. Well, I don't think I'll be taking those chances again. I doubt it will be arrests and trial for me now. Not after the trouble I caused an Alderaan." Her gaze travels out to the mountains. "I'm afraid my constitution is not made for high altitudes outside of a cockpit. Though, perhaps, I will see you around the city." She turns to head back up to her waiting men. "Enjoy your hike." "Well, someone is gunning for you," Haquien agrees, "but isn't low-level folks like me." He nods to Rem calmly, adding, "Perhaps in the cantina. See you around, Rem." He turns and proceeds towards the looming mountain.
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