To say Gerad was in a bad mood was to put it politely, not that most other species would have noticed. Garundin’s had a reputation for being a surly lot, so they’d have just assumed he was behaving like normal; but this [i]was[/i] different. He’d just spent the past four hours walking back to Oasis after the hovertruck he’d been using had been blasted to shit. It’d cost him a fair chunk of his limited credits and much time modifying it for his own ease of use, and now it was a smouldering slag pile out in the desert.

He’d been planet side for a few months now, and between odd jobs to keep the credits flowing in, he’d spent much time at a relatively close exposed bit of the strange archeotech, trying to see if he could figure out anything about it; so far he’d been no more successful than anyone else, but that was no deterrent, like any other Garundin he was patient. 

Now, however he was on a bit of a warpath. He’d been working at his usual site, when another vehicle approached. He’ been cautious but since it didn’t appear to be a Skull Taker’s ride, he kept working instead of just engaging as soon at the vehicle came in range, that proved to be a mistake; there were no warnings, no threats, a duo just dismounted and opened fire at him, lobbing an explosive charge at his truck at the same time.

Fortunately for the duo, Gerad had been at the bottom of a depression and was not able to bring any of his rather potent ‘guns’ to bear, the only weapons he had at hand where some homemade pheromone grenades that he’d put together as they seemed to be somewhat effective in dispersing, at least small packs, of ‘hoppers’. He lobbed a few of those at his attackers, causing them to remount their ride and retreat in the direction of Oasis.

Seeing as he need to go back there anyways, he’d followed, managing to make the trip with only a few minor scuffles with some wildlife. Once back inside the settlement, he began sampling the air with his armour, using the pheromones to track his attackers through the place. Too many species without a highly developed olfactory sense, the ‘tag’ was almost unnoticeable, to Gerad, it was a ribbon of brilliant light. Following the trails, they rounded a corner to where he could hear a rather [i]insistent[/i] conversation. 

[b]"[color=f7941d]Welcome Mr Phoenix, So I heard you were looking for me. I think we should have a bit of a chat.[/color]" 
"[color=662d91]Yes, I think a chat would be nice.[/color]"[/b]

He stopped short of the corner and listened. The ones that had shot at him and trashed his stuff were right there, and from the sounds of things they were not alone. Now [i]most[/i] species, when confronted with a situation like this, would either back off and try again later or try and get some more information about what was happening just out of sight before they did anything, but Garundins just hit their problems head on and relied on their stubbornness and armour to carry the day, and Gerad was very typical for his people.

Stepping around the corner with his Barrier deployed and his V.L.A. in hand, he saw a dozen or so thugs all facing away from him and glaring at a lone human. "[color=lawngreen]Hey,[/color]" He said in a rumbling bass. "[color=lawngreen]I don’t know what’s going on here, and don’t much care, but I do have a quarrel with [i][b]those two[/b][/i].[/color]" He added, using one of his secondary hands to point out the two ‘tagged’ thugs. "[color=lawngreen]They come with me and I’ll get out of your way.[/color]"