Roots of Purge

Part 1: Welcome to Boz Pity

   The blue ring of stars began to fade away as they exited hyperspace. Belim and his Quarren Master Groshuk entered the atmosphere of Boz Pity, a planet in the outer-rim of the galaxy located near Kessel and Saleucami. Commander Kyle, the commander of the 302nd Legion of the clone army flew him and his master down to the surface in their republic shuttle. They were assigned to infiltrate a small base that was rumored to hold separatist plans for a super-weapon. While collecting information about it in the Coruscant underworld, Groshuk had learned that it is a palace for an infamous crime lord. Master Windu suspected it was a cover-up or a hidden base for the Separatists. We landed at Hanets Spaceport, a well known location for smugglers. While exiting the ship, Belim could smell strong spices in the air. He didn't like the overwhelming smell. It had an uncomfortable feeling like his nostrils were burning. Groshuk stepped out of the shuttle with Kyle behind him. "Don't you just love the sweet smell of outer rim spices Belim?" He asked. Belim just gave him a sarcastic look and turned away. "I guess I'm lucky I have a helmet." Kyle mentioned. Entering the marketplace, Belim could sense fear all around him. He shuddered with the overwhelming presence. He heard his masters voice behind him, "I sense the fear as well, my Padawan. This port is home to many criminals with bounties or criminal records, and when they see Jedi with a Clone Commander they feel nervous. We should probably have brought our disguises from the shuttle."
"I told you we would need them!" Belim snapped. "I'll go back and get them."
Belim sprinted back to the ship, hoping not to miss anything important. He grabbed his master's and Kyle's disguises and put on his. He had heavy pants and a cloak to conceal his lightsaber. He went back to the place he last saw his master and they weren't there. He heard yelling in a nearby tavern. "That must be them." Belim thought to himself. He rushed into the bar and saw Kyle locked in a headlock by a Trandoshan, its claws barely an inch away from Kyle's throat. Groshuk was nowhere to be seen. He jumped forward, tossing the clothes into the Trandoshan's face. The beast was temporarily blinded allowing Kyle to free himself from the headlock. The commander sent his fist right into the Trandoshan's jaw, sending him hurling back. The thug let out a whimper and ran out the back of the tavern.
"Thanks for that, kid."
"Don't mention it."
Belim gathered the clothes from the floor and tossed Kyle his disguise. While Kyle went to change, Belim helped clean up the tavern, putting chairs back where they belong and cleaning up broken bits of glass. As he and Kyle were leaving, Belim tossed the bartender and silver credit. "So." Belim asked, "Where's Groshuk?"
"He went to search the some of the spice stores, to check for information. We may want to find him before he gets himself into trouble."
"Agreed." said Belim.
   Belim and Kyle walked down an alley to get to the spice market. The sun was beginning to set, making the Boz Pity sky look gray and unnatural. Belim hated it when it was dark. He didn't have finely tuned senses, as his master had said, it was always a difficult thing for him. At night when it was dark he really had to trust his senses not his eyes. Though in his lifetime, his eyes had never really betrayed him. Lost in thought he really wasn't paying attention to the large person behind him. Next thing he knew he had been smacked in the head and knocked out cold.
     When he awoke, he was hanging from a wall with Kyle, who was still unconscious, with chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Suddenly a Trandoshan, looking much like the one from the bar stepped in front of him. "Welcome to Boz Pity." he said with a huge toothy grin.