Frustration

Zithill was torn between frustration and amusement. It was the casual order from the human male that tipped him towards the former. To address a being by their race like that was so... human.

Nevertheless their unconscious attacker did need watching and the hulking Rarek was too busy arguing Sith philosophy with the human child to take up the task. Zithill gave the prone man a soft kick and seeing that he did not move he called over to Hargar.

“The prisoner should be carried are you up to the task?” He asked as he drew his rifle from about his shoulder and levelled it down at the bound man. He stared around in the darkness trying to make out which way the twins had gone. A familiar tingle grew at the base of his spine and suddenly the trail appeared before him like a crimson thread leading the way they had gone. Being a findsman had its uses.

He did not know what had happened to the downed Issac or the screeching Twi'lek Nyavi. He had felt the force attack and the power of their defence. It had been considerable, but the exact source had been a mystery.

Right now they were floundering in the dark in a foreign space station while those familiar with their surrounds march off leaving them to their foolish squabbles.

"I follow the droid and he two young charges." Zithill announced at last, "Perhaps one of you could secure a light?"

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