The two men hurried toward the exit and Tyrrazapon sat for a moment and then decided to follow.
He wondered what these two were talking about, yet again. He was beginning to think he was collecting more questions than answers. He made his way through the crowd with relative ease as some made the effort to make room for him.
He stepped outside and immediately slowed to a stop and surveyed. There was a sort of barricade up, with men standing their ground. They had a turret, and blasters. Tyrrazapon guessed they were after someone that hadn't paid up. Smugglers never had any mercy and they didn't mess around. He'd had to fight his way out of a few jams himself back on the desert world.
He retreated back into the shadow of the building and waited. He was a statue.
In the distance he could barely make out a black object. It was headed toward the club at an alarming speed. Soon, he lost sight of what turned out to be a speeder with two men. There was one in a side-car. The barricade lit up and the men were firing their blasters and turret at the speeder. Tyrrazapon could hear shouting and taunting and there seemed to be a bit of a crash out of sight. Perhaps they had gotten their thieves.
Others began to mingle out of the club at the sound of the blasts. A small crowd formed and people seemed either alarmed or interested and there were a few placing bets.
Tyrrazapon felt more in tune now, and felt like he was connected to something, but he couldn't decide what it was. Perhaps his adrenaline was making his mind focus.
Suddenly it seemed like a man had fallen over, but he couldn't make out what had happened. Now something else occurred.
There was a bit of a crash and explosion and the turret was down now. He moved to a better position to see what was happening and as he did so, another man fell and it appeared that he had been stabbed. Tyrrazapon focused his eyes. He could see the wound in the man's arm. It was that gray-haired fool that interrupted his ale-time.
But then the figure emerged. A trickle of excitement went down his spine when he saw the man. He was wearing similar garb, but camouflaged, it seemed. Then Tyrrazapon's questions were answered because the figure produced a weapon, and the red blade ignited and gleamed back at Tyrrazapon. The figure shoved his lightsaber through gray-hair's throat. Beautifully done he thought.
The cloaked figure, similar to himself began his rounds and seemed to be enjoying himself, entertained each time he blasted a guy in the head with the blaster he'd picked up. Now he was moving toward one last man who was still alive. Tyrrazapon couldn't really tell what this other one looked like.
But then it didn't matter, after a few words seemed to be exchanged before the figure slit the man's throat with his red blade. There was another figure coming up, favoring one of his sides. He was dressed like the first. Tyrrazapon wanted to speak with them immediately.
The other one realized they had an audience, and then shot a look straight at Tyrrazapon. At this, Tyrrazapon's mind and body surged with this mysterious feeling he'd felt in smaller doses. He knew at once that these men would be able to help him. And now the man spoke.
"YOU! We would have a word with you!" the man pointed right at Tyrrazapon. They knew too. Did they possibly know who he was? He readied himself. He still wasn't sure if they were friend or foe. He would find out soon enough, as the cloaked man was headed right for him.
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