Star Wars STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)---Always taking new players!

IC: Brenda Gergin
Shop keeper, landing field

Brenda finished patching up a flight suit for a customer. There was a big tear in the side arm and the human was pretty upset over it. She stood up and looked it up and down and had trouble spotting the patch job. She nodded in approval as she heard the front door open. She wondered if he came back to see if the suit was done. She headed towards the front as she heard someone yell out "Shop!" Nope, not the customer coming back for his flight suit.

She walked out of the back and looked at the being and gave a welcoming smile. New customers was always a welcome change of pace, it gave her an excuse to take a small break from working. "What can I help you with?"

Sith-I-5

 

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Skip One Tailors


Kospi poked his head towards the unmanned counter on the right, and the hanging fabrics on his left, then spotted a femme emerging from the back of the shop.

"What can I help you with?"

Ool smiled, "Ah hello, my good woman," he greeted brightly. He had been watching the latest series of Dreighton Abbey, the simple tale of Tiss'shar nobles and their Trandoshan servant classes. "I do not have more than half a standard hour to play with, and I need a flightsuit that fits my body specifications." He half-turned to show that he had a tail too. "What colours and fabrics do you have?"

Tag: JediFalcon

 

IC: Brenda Gergin
Shop keeper, landing field

"I do not have more than half a standard hour to play with, and I need a flightsuit that fits my body specifications." He half-turned to show that he had a tail too. "What colours and fabrics do you have?"
Brenda gave a smile as she took her measuring tape and measured the lizzard. She measured the base of his tail and wrote everything down including his height. "We do have a navy blue and cream color, which do you prefer?"

Sith-I-5

 

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Skip One Tailors


The shop worker handled him stripping off the towel so he could be measured, better than he did, Kospi's facial scales reddening as she measured him, and wrote the figures down on her 'pad.

"We do have a navy blue and cream color, which do you prefer?"

Ool nodded, "I have to fly through an asteroid field, so I will take them both. You did not mention fabrics; do you have anything in Fleekskin? Um..." He gestured to a roll of glistening material behind the counter. "I cannot do synthetic silk; makes me look like a pimp."

Tag: JediFalcon

 

IC: Brenda Gergin
Shop Keeper landing field

"I have to fly through an asteroid field, so I will take them both. You did not mention fabrics; do you have anything in Fleekskin? Um..." He gestured to a roll of glistening material behind the counter. "I cannot do synthetic silk; makes me look like a pimp."

"I do have two premade, the being that had them made never returned. And I highly doubt he will at this point, it's been six months. You and him have the same measurements, the only thing I need to do is alter them for the tail," Brenda explained as went to the back and picked up the two flight suits in fleekskin. One in navy and one in cream. She walked back out with them in hand. "If you want I can alter one and you can see how it fits?"

Sith-I-5

 

IC: Maria Van Helsing (MVH-1001), Port Haven settlement
Location: Whendyll System


The view from Maria's stormtrooper helmet was fritzing slightly, with horizontal lines of static shooting across the view of the nocturnal treetops, as she opened her eyes, regaining consciousness pressed up against the bole of a tree.

Her gaze focused on an upended speeder bike hanging beneath a bulbous mass of vegetable flesh, several feet across, hanging among the upper branches.

She checked her body out with her hands and how it felt. If her nervous system was to be believed, she had bruises everywhere, but specifically up her back and neck.

Maria tried to shift her legs off the tree trunk, and clattered noisily onto the forest floor.

She lay there for some moments, then rolled onto her front, then climbed up, looking around for her biker scout - left, right, down, behind, under that shrub, then eventually, slowly, up.

Was that fleshy bulb pulsing a bit...oddly?

She hadn't gotten the rider's name. She could call in and ask Seventy-Nine to do a roll-call of the biker scouts, see which one did not respond, or, she could try to deal with this herself.

Maria lifted her helmet off her head, shook out her lustrious black hair and swung the helmet hard against the nearest tree.
Why she thought that would fix the malfunctions, Emperor only knows, but she slipped the bucket back over her head in confident, and correct as it happened, expectation that the vision had cleared.

"Shame these things don't do x-ray vision."

Maria brought up her E-11 blaster rifle, set it to single shot and aimed it up at the plant. Its similarity to the Syren Plant that had tried to eat her colleague earlier made it Suspect Number One.
And, of course, the 74-Z speeder bike hanging from one of its vines, several feet abover her.

The obvious thing to do would be to shoot laser bolts at it, and hope to do enough damage that it released the scout...but her second thoughts were saying 'no'.

How was it staying up there? Using the gun's scope, she tracked the smaller liannas from the plant's sides to the branches from which it hung.

zapp

A green laser bolt pitted a fiery crater into one of the suspension vines, the Syren rippling in apparent reaction.

zapp-zapp-zapp

More energy sliced up the Syren, burning, charring then severing the lines till the plant bulb dropped towards the floor, the suspended speeder bike falling ahead of it.

"Uh oh." Maria turned to dive for cover before the speeder bike exploded on contact with the ground.

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Sal Brooks, Ryn, Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Skip One landing field.
Location: Smugglers Run


Waiting for their lizard host to return, Sal looked through the forest of ships’ landing gear towards the HT-2200 freighter that Captain Kospi had claimed as his, and thought back to his recent former life as a stealer of ships.

He would have been gaining Kospi’s confidence while his customised LE-Repair droid, Bolts, observed from a distance, and then the droid would over-ride the vessel’s security system while he kept the pilot busy.

Sal felt eyes on him, and looked round to see the Ryn observing him.

“What are you doing?” The feathered humanoid enquired suspiciously.

Sal shrugged, “Trying to recall your species’ entry into the Galactovision Song Contest. I remember it was quite catchy. So far, all I have come us with is the latter part of the chorus. A-do-ryn-ryn-ryn, a-do-ryn-ryn.”

The humanoid/ avian hybrid narrowed its eyes, suspiciously as it regarded the human spacer. “I do not believe you, Mister Brooks.”

Brooks gave a silent chuckle. “Too much?”

* * * *
Tailors

The helpful shop assistant came back with two outfits in the quoted colours, and Kospi could see that both were fleekskin.

“I do have two premade, the being that had them made never returned. And I highly doubt he will at this point, it's been six months. You and him have the same measurements, the only thing I need to do is alter them for the tail. If you want I can alter one and you can see how it fits?”

Kospi nodded readily. “If you can do so, safely within the time limit I mentioned, go for it.”

Tag: JediFalcon, any at spaceport

---

IC: Mary Formal, Port Haven beach.
Location: Whendyll System


Snorting to clear the water from her nostrils woke Mary up, her eyes opening to see three things above her, the Imperial pilot in his dark grey flightsuit, his snub-nosed holdout blaster, and the opening of his water flask, which was upside down the contents could splash down into her face.

She coughed, choked, and put up her hands to deflect the liquid from her face and eyes.
“Stop that!” She implored.

“I knew you were faking it.” The Imperial backed off several paces, covering her with his blaster. “Get up. You are coming with me.”

Mary started to wipe one palm across her face, then stopped when she felt the grains of sand on it, so wiped it on the side of her top first. Then she sat up and put a hand under her to help herself up off the sand.

“That’s quite a drop. Meaning you’re not human.”

“Or, I bounce well.” The disguised Arcateenian eyed the Imperial, waiting for a distraction, a lapse in concentration, just some opening so she could jump him.
Her rejoinder was made through fear more than bravado, fear of how this Empire thought of and treated non-humans. She could die right here if they decided to save time.

“Not that well.” The Imp remarked, a tad smugly. His gaze flicked away to her left at the distant phoom of a repulsor engine detonating, and she moved, one arm thrust into his chest up to her elbow, the other grabbing for his gun as it slid from dead fingers.

There was a dull thud as it hit the dark sand between her and the dead Imperial who was only standing now because she was supporting him.

She dropped to one knee, lowering her kill, hoping that her free hand would find the missing weapon as it brushed arcs over the damp sand.
“Dammit. Where did you go?” She whispered to herself, pulling her other hand free, and flicking the hot gore into the darkness.

"Hey, you alright out there?" Another voice called from the back of the silhouetted Sentinel, at the top of the vehicle ramp. "Thought I heard a gurgle."

Tag: Salmakk of the ‘Service

 

IC: Brenda Gergin
Shop keep Landing Field Skip One, Smugglers Run

“If you can do so, safely within the time limit I mentioned, go for it.”

Brenda smiled as she took the suits to the back and quickly went to work. Snipping a hole where the tail measurements were, she quickly cut to base of the tail then grabbing some fabric she sewed around the edges to prevent the any running from occuring. She held up the flight suit and nodded in approval as she walked back out with it under her arm. "Go ahead and try this one. I'm sure you will be quite pleased with the results."


IC: Dom, Sal Brooks
Landing field Skip One Smugglers Run

“Too much?”

"Too much," Dom agreed with a hardened glare. "What are your real intentions with the Mercs? And somehow I don't think fixing fighters is truly on your agenda."

Sith-I-5

 

IC: Commander Chantrey, Lieutenant-Commander Gregor, Mon Cal Engineer Luten, Imperial Interdictor April Dancer, Bantha-class assault shuttle, Mako, respectfully
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


Gregor took a last glance at the repeater screen showing the s-thread monitors, which had picked up a ship that was still in hyperspace, but was approaching the Whendyll Star System, which was where Gregor’s vessel, the April Dancer was stationed.

He marched quickly across the command deck to the vessel’s commander. “Sir, we have a ship coming into our sector.”

“Gooood,” Chantrey purred, rubbing his hands together as he turned to face his fellow officer. “Our first catch of the day.”

“Don’t do that.” Gregor visibly winced at his friends’ tone. “Creeps me out. And what about the Kindness?” He asked, referring to the starfighter that they had blasted several hours earlier.

“Gooood,” Chantrey purred again, rubbing his palms. “Our second catch of the day.”

Gregor rolled his eyes, and walked away, while the Commander announced Yellow Alert.

* * * *
Hyperspace

The Mon Calamari crew watched the starlines out the front of their ship’s windows with interest, as the craft decelerated from lightspeed.

Much of their adult lives had been spent in the nebulae where the SGIS Base Ship resided, so every new star system was a novelty, and the Whendyll System promised to be the same.

The captain checked the readouts on his left armrest. “We’re a few seconds early.”

“So?” Engineer Luten, who had met with the acrobatic Merc, enquired from his chair at the side of the bridge. “What do a few seconds matter?”

The captain did not know, but he had a feeling that if you set the navicomputer to do a hyperspace jump, it ought to be the catalyst by which you returned to realspace, while according to his screens, they should still be in a hyperspace tunnel.

Outside, starlines shortened rapidly to stars, and other, recognisable shapes.

An emergency klaxon blared throughout the small ship, prompting Luten to swivel his chair back to his diagnostic boards, to find out what it was trying to tell them. “Unexpected gravity well, Captain!”

The Captain cut power to the hyperdrive, lest it shred right here!

“Our position is correct,” He reported to the four members of his crew, “Whendyll Syatem, although we are nowhere near any of the planets or moons. What brought us out of…wait, tracking gravity field.”

One of the crew looked forward out the main port, seeing one of the spots of light grow larger and more recognisable as they coasted deeper forward through interplanetary space.

“Oh, Captain.” Tors sang in vain, his words drowned out by the klaxon that no-one had thought to turn off. “Captain!”

Pabel spun round to regard his subordinate with his huge glassy yellow eyes. “What?!”

Tors pointed out the window, at the rear profile of what looked like a mini star destroyer.

Pavel looked forwards, his mouth dropping open. “Oh, sithspit.” Then, “Hold onto your hats, Boys; I’ve got an idea.”

* * * *
April Dancer bridge

Commander Chantrey glared the length of his six hundred metre warship as her four-barrelled quad-lasers jerked spasmodically in reaction to finding nothing to shoot.

Gregor was already standing over the operator at the ComScan station, one hand on the back of the operator’s chair, the other on top of the console’s apex. “I don’t understand it, Sir. They don’t appear on our scopes at all.”

Chantrey stood by the front windows, facing into his bridge crew with his arms crossed. He knew the prey had not jumped back out, not with the gravity wells, the huge spheres that broke his ship’s lines, going full blast.
“Could they have had a cloaking device? Their readings suggested they would be too small to have one.” He looked pensive. “Okay, they weren’t that small. Ship looked a bit chunky.”

Tag: no-one

 

OOG: Caught up almost completely on Port Haven; a few No-tags left to read. Will get to Skip One tags and posts soon here. But here we go, a small intro back into it all...


IC: Jason Lasso
Port Haven, several hours later


"She's an Emperor's Hand, and she's still alive."

That one comment rolled around in Lasso's head as they made their way through the jungle---for hours. With all of his historical background, Lasso couldn't come up with a "Emperor's Hand" to recent knowledge...in fact, this was the first time he had ever heard of the title! While part of him wanted to ask Taab to spill the beans on the woman if he had any more intel, Lasso also knew that it wouldn't be professional at the moment and second, Taab clearly made such a short statement because he didn't want to talk about anymore.

"My men are securing the perimeter. Now what?"

Jason wasn't winded, but the humanity of the jungle caused him to wipe the more then average sweat from his forehead as he leaned up against a tree.

Jason nodded to Hallomar, "Both you and Taab are our best soldiers here. And best shots. Hallomar, you know the area better then anybody. And Taab knows military tactics like the back of his hand. I'm going to send you two, Zhoul, and three of your guards Hallomar. That'll give you a team of six. It should be enough. Hallomar, you'll lead the team towards the village. Find a good spot outside the village and get some rest. Taab will take charge of the direct action against Imperial forces. IF you can intercept any Imperial troop movements before they reach the village, take 'em out and gather their equipment that way. If not we'll go with the original plan and stake out until the Imps level the place and leave. Taab, that will be your call on which action to take. Make the decision best for the group, not the village. Hopefully you'll find a boat down river to make the process go faster.

"I'll take Briggs, Totter, and 3 of Hallomar's guards with me, for a team of six. We'll head towards the pirate base and see what we can find. We'll meet at the pirate base in thirty-six hours. Our secondary meet-up will be here if the pirate base is taken over by the Imperials. Questions?"


TAG Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5, anyone else
OOG: I will be getting a post up for landing the bulk of Imperial ground forces at Port Haven ASAP.

 

IC: Atin Taab
Crusader, Smuggler's Run

The activity outside the ship had prompted Atin to put his bucket back on, and so it was that he was watching the Crusader's security feed on his HUD when Jeth rolled a rickety cart up the boarding ramp. He was accompanied by a woman that the young Mandalorian hadn't remembered running any sort of background check on. Interesting. "Kid. Jeth. I'm on board with two passengers that our good Doctor wanted me to retrieve. Close the ramp for now, please. Sherland can comm you when she wants to come aboard."

Two passengers? Who was the other one? Atin went to find out He closed up the boarding ramp and made his way to where the trolley had been stashed, arriving just in time to see the woman lifting a young child out of the cart as Jeth looked over the supplies he had brought aboard.

Atin's first instinct ran to stow away, but his brain caught up with him a moment later. A stow away wouldn't have been mentioned as a passenger being brought aboard. Nor would the child be handled so gingerly if he wasn't supposed to be here. Instead it seemed the Doctor had asked that they be brought back to the Johnny Boy. A nurse and her son, or family of the Doctor? Atin wasn't sure, but he did want to know who had been brought aboard ship. "Who are they?" he indicated the mother and her child with a nod, "and what have you brought aboard my ship?"

TAG: Sith-I-5 (indirectly others at Skip 1)

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Port Haven, dark of night

Taab took a knee as he listened to the plan. He wanted to object, but didn't really have cause to. He didn't like the idea of being separated from the Captain again so soon. It was his primary job to keep Lasso safe, and that was certainly harder to do if he wasn't at his side or on his six. But keeping him safe also meant getting them all off world, and that would best be accomplished if the party split up. Taab couldn't argue that point. Nor could he argue as to everyone's assignments. The right people had been assigned to the right jobs.

So after the Skipper had finished, "We'll meet at the pirate base in thirty-six hours. Our secondary meet-up will be here if the pirate base is taken over by the Imperials. Questions?" Taab simply shook his head. Fortunantely no one could see the look on his face behind his T-Visor. He had taken umbrage at the Captain's admonishment to take care only of his group and not to worry about the welfare of the village. This wasn't his first ronto rodeo, and collateral damage in a situation like this would be the least of his concerns. Truth be told, excepting as they were assets to be used to get his own Captain off this rock, Taab didn't much care if Hallomar or his men survived this or not either. Even his own crew mates could be sacrificed by Taab in order to get his job done without him losing any sleep over it.

But that was all better left unsaid. His employers had wanted a level of secrecy with his true mission, and Taab wouldn't betray that secret just yet. He did have a feeling that somewhere down the line he would have to reveal his real mission to Lasso in order to ensure his safety, but that time had not yet come. When it did, the Kingdom of Jod would just have to live with that decision If they wanted to keep their "chosen one" (or whatever the shab Lasso was to them) safe.

Instead Taab just stood up off the knee he had taken and checked over his kit. Looking to Hallomar, "The sooner we get started, the sooner we get there. The sooner we get there, the more options we have." Options were of vital importance in any kind of combat situation. Options gave you flexibility, flexibility gave you victory. Especially if you already knew what your enemy was up to.

TAG: Bravo

 

IC: Havah Jeth, Cook wife, Cook child, inside the Crusader
Location: Skip One landing field, Smugglers Run


Havah had not gone far with the booze when Atin turned up in person, the Mandalorian minus his helmet, and wearing a black beret, allowing the Squadron Leader to see for the first time, the age of the pilot that had brought them through the asteroid field.

He was as impressed as he could be about Humans, which wasn't much.

"Who are they?" Atin nodded to the two passengers, who stood at the side of the corridor, between Jeth and Atin.

Havah opened his mouth, but the younger family member got his piece in first, grinning up at Atin. "I'm Medical Supplies!" He looked over the Mandalorian armour plates. "Are you a robot?"

The young woman jerked gently on the boy's hand, and bent down slightly to murmur into his ear, "No Dear, he's not a robot."

Havah finally got a word in, waving his Whyren Reserve towards the boy, "The Brain Trust in the shorts is one Peter Saint-James. The one in the frock is his mother, Rebecca Saint-James."

"and what have you brought aboard my ship?"

"Apart from them and the shopping trolley?" Havah raised an eyebrow at the young lad, "I have re-stocked my supplies of alcohol, the good stuff." He did not feel there was any point in identifying the brands to the young one.

Tag: Atin

---

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Tailors

"Go ahead and try this one. I'm sure you will be quite pleased with the results."

Ool took hold of the proffered suit, and followed the sign to the changing room.

Holding the outfit up after drawing the vanity curtain closed, he was quietly impressed that the woman had sewn in fabric round the hole she had cut to accomodate his tail.

Five minutes later, he was back out in the main part of the shop, standing before a full length mirror, and waving his arms, and trying out his legs to see if there was any areas of tightness, as the woman looked on.

"This is some good stuff." He announced at length. "Do the same with the other suit, and I will take them both." Ool turned from the mirror to regard the worker, "Can I wear the suit out?"

Tag: Brenda

 

IC: Brenda Gergin
Tailors shop, skip one smugglers run


"This is some good stuff." He announced at length. "Do the same with the other suit, and I will take them both." Ool turned from the mirror to regard the worker, "Can I wear the suit out?"
Brenda gave a slight smile and nodded. "It's better then wearing the towel isn't it? Yes you may." She walked back to the other room. "Give me fifteen minutes and I alter this one as well," she went to work while whistling to one of her favorite songs as she worked. It would be good to sell these suits. It was almost like he needed them in a hurry and the Force had her prepare them ahead of time for him. She held up the suit fifteen minutes later and nodded as her work. She always received the compliment about how her work was top notch compared to a store, but she knew good quality was better then quanity. She always lived by that motto and gained a reputation.

She walked back out and handed over the suit with a smile. They never did discuss the subject of payment. She was willing to take a loss if she gained a client in turn. "Twenty credits for each suit, if that sounds reasonable to you?"

Sith-I-5

 

Name:Salmakk Neot
Gender: male
Age: 67
Species: Mon Calamari
Homeworld: Mon Calamari
Affiliation: freelance Outer Rim on call doctor, part time explosives smuggler
Physical Appearance
Skin Color: typical brown salmony Mon Cal color
Eye Color: yellow
Hair Color: N/A
Height: 1.8 meters/5' 10"
Weight (optional): average size, slowly growing midsection from age
Clothing: Black pants and boots, green jacket with a white t-shirt underneath, utility belt
Weapons/gear: typically carries S-5 blaster pistol on right thigh and a backpack with medical supplies, utility belt has extra blaster packs, a couple grenade pouches


Brief History

Job Title: Field Medic/On Call doc/explosive tech and smuggler occasionally
History:

Salmakk went to a military academy on Mon Cal in his late teens where he received his training with explosives. After, he pursued a career as a doctor, worked at Big Zoo (Galactic Polysapient Medical Center) on Alderaan until he was 25. Then, learning the death of his brother, an SGIS agent named Onolar Neot, was recruited to SGIS by Onolar's friend and colleague Cale Krest.

Salmakk disgraced himself on the mission by abandoning it and leaving the SGIS without so much as a message. The Mon Cal had gone into business for himself on the Outer Rim with his medically oriented YT-1300, Healing Speed, the insides boasting some fancy medical equipment, while also occasionally smuggling things on the side. He lived a relatively quiet life. In recent years, he had set up a small clinic at the south end of Free Trader Alley and hadn’t left in at least a standard year, partly because he enjoyed Port Haven, partly because Healing Speed was in no condition to fly. The Mon Cal's brief experience in the intelligence community had taught him to be more aware of his surroundings and thus knew the Mercs often frequented Port Haven though he never had any direct contact with any members of the organization.

---

IC: Salmakk Neot
Port Haven, Whendyll System

Salmakk didn’t look behind him as the old Mon Cal’s feet and joints pushed him through the jungle far beyond their means. His small clinic had been destroyed and his assistant had his head smashed in by part of the clinic as two AT-STs tore up the southern part of Free Trader Alley and moved on to the main settlement of Port Haven.

Salmakk had seen the retreat of the citizens of the Alley southward. The old Mon Cal had a different plan. He had slipped out of the southwest point of the Alley and headed northwest trying to get behind the Imperial advance. He had a bag of supplies, mostly medical, a S-5 blaster pistol, and two proton grenades on his utility belt. The Mon Cal briefly entertained the idea of making a break to his ship but he decided it was more suicidal than his current plan. The ship was barely spaceworthy, the screeching of TIEs overhead confirmed his fear of air support, and getting to the ship without getting shot would have been a trick in its own right.

Neot sighed and pushed on through the jungle encountering no resistance miraculously until he hit the edge of the jungle. Salmakk was wary, but decided to venture closer. That’s when the crimson soared in beside him. Salmakk was rocked by the impact as wood fragments leapt out toward him and he was knocked off his feet.

On his back, the old Mon Cal laid still. He saw the tree begin to tumble over the cliffs and with what looked like some blue thing on top. It appeared to be clinging to the tree as it fell over the cliff and out of sight. Salmakk did a quick check over himself and found he was intact, though disoriented and covered in mud from what had been the root system of the tree.

The Mon Cal, without brushing the mud off, rolled over and crawled toward the cliff’s edge. Though he was old, he relied on instinct from his younger days in the military academy, an instinct that apparently hadn’t atrophied with age. He peeked over the edge and confirmed what he thought. An Imperial landing craft had taken up residence of the beach. He wasn’t sure if the ship was shooting at him or the apparently unconscious Human female at the base of the cliff.

Salmakk was still for a time. He didn’t want any sudden moves to trigger the sensors on the craft. He figured the mud had distorted any heat signature anomalies from his head as he peered over, though that wouldn’t last long. He began to think and formulate. Why should he care about the being down there? He saw the Imperial trooper approaching and then the spectacle unfolded. Her fragging arm just went through the man! Salmakk was wary, but he knew that any enemy of the Empire, especially one that could do that, was valuable, and would certainly help his odds of surviving to the next day. Without help, he was a dead man anyway.

He knew moving down the cliff rapidly would be noticed, and he knew shooting wouldn’t help anything. But he did have two proton grenades. He concocted a plan.

The Mon Cal slipped a proton grenade out of his belt and armed it. He stood up quickly and heaved the grenade as close to the ship as he could. Knowing he had only a few seconds, the Mon Cal sprang into action.

“I’m too old for this sithspit,”* he muttered to himself as he tightened the straps on his backpack threw himself back first off the edge of the cliff, pistol in hand. As he did so the silver ball erupted with a big explosion as the fireball pushed sand and other debris on the beach in all directions. He hoped it would occupy the sensors for the time it took him to descend the cliff. By the time the explosion had subsided the bolt from the ascension tool on his pistol was in the top of the cliff and the Mon Cal was at the bottom kneeling, holding the S-5 pistol in his left hand.

The Mon Cal looked at the female before him. She appeared human, but the blood dripping from her arm and the dead pilot on the ground with a hole in his chest said otherwise. The old Mon Cal decided the matter wasn’t pertinent as blaster fire was sure to be incoming shortly. “Need a lift? I think this,” the old Mon Cal said, showing the second proton grenade in his right hand, “would give us enough cover if we ascend. Or if you’re feeling particularly crazy, we could make a go at the ship.” The Mon Cal looked back. The beach was blackened where there grenade had gone off

Tag: Sith-I-5

OOG:
*line is a slightly modified version of something Danny Glover’s character says a lot in the Lethal Weapon series
---
IC: Cain Varss
Hanger, Skip One, Smuggler’s Run

Cain had watched the lizard run off. And before I could even ask what species he is... Now, with Cain’s attention free from the lizard, he glanced over at his other two concerns, the Ryn and Sal. They had a brief exchange. Cain hadn’t decided whether he liked the Ryn or not, but the charge he levied at Sal rang true with what he was thinking as well.

“"What are your real intentions with the Mercs? And somehow I don't think fixing fighters is truly on your agenda."

Cain took a few steps forward occupying the space that Ool-Re-Kospi had occupied and looked at the small group, then spoke adding a little venom to his voice. “The Ryn thinks you are lying Sal. Now why would he think that?”

Tag: JediFalcon, Sith-I-5, (or Bravo, or whoever is controlling Rav and Dom at the moment)

 

IC: Mary Formal, Port Haven western beach
Location: Port Haven


With better reflexes, Mary would have ducked as soon as the explosion went off not far behind her, but as it was, she was grateful for the momentary illumination picking out how close she was to the rear of the Imperial lander, and the other pilot standing wide-eyed on the ramp, just before a pound of sand hit her between the shoulder blades, and the second Imp ducked into his ship!

She took a step after him when a voice alerted to the armed Mon Cal standing to the left of her. She glanced into his chest, then tilted her gaze up to where his wide-mouthed face was, the light from the cratered beach fading fast.

"Need a lift? I think this," He indicated something that she could not see in the darkness. "would give us enough cover if we ascend. Or if you’re feeling particularly crazy, we could make a go at the ship."

"Hold that thought." She stsarted to stretch up to his lips with a finger, but realised it was covered in gore, and brought her arm down.

She followed the Imperial through the opening at the back into what she assumed was the vehicle area. There were sealed lockers and exposed tool shelved on the walls to her right and left, and the pilot, light-skinned human male in a black flightsuit, was facing her, with an E-11 in a double-handed grip.

She was on him as he raised the blaster, getting one hand on the barrel to try to tug it from his grip, but her slick fingers slid down the barrel, and she had to settle for elbowing him hard in the head with her other arm, careening him into the side, where he dropped to one knee, the gun pitting a laser bolt into the deck as they grappled on the floor.

Mary didn't want to ruin this man's suit; she had heard what sounded like boat engines.

There were people coming over the water, and she did not think they were locals.

Tag: Salmakk

OOC: Welcome back to the GFFA, Salmakk!

---

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Skip One Tailors
Location: Port Haven

"Twenty credits for each suit, if that sounds reasonable to you?"

"Quality like this, I think I can stretch to thirty credits each." Ool advised, getting out his wallet (don't ask out of where, you don't wanna to know).

He knew Invisible Market places like these wouldn't want to use credit chips, so had a sheaf of credits on actual crisp flimsis.

The lizard crossed to the counter and started to lay tens on the counter. "Ten, twenty, thirty; that covers the suit I'm wearing. Ten, twenty, thirty. That's for the other one." He was tempted to ask her how she felt picking up his laundry, but the Mercs seemed like they were in a bit of a hurry.

He grasped hold of the second suit, thanked the woman profusely, and headed out of the shop, spying the one the Squadron Leader had called Cain, getting up in the face of the Sal Brooks fellow.

He would have to watch that Cain guy.

"Towel!" He about-faced, tail swinging behind him, and managed to get back inside the shop before the front door closed fully. "Sorry, my towel, did you see where I left it? Probably in the changing room."

Tag: Brenda

 

IC: Captain Pabel, Engineer Luten(npcs), Bantha-class assault shuttle, Mako
Location: Whendyll System


The SGIS vessel was in more darkness than usual, the captain having shut down all high-power systems that could be detected by other ships' passive sensors.

Luten moved to the front of the bridge while the white beams of others' glowrods crisscrossed the darkness behind him. He looked over an abbreviated expanse of ridged white metal, and the starfield above.

He turned goggle eyes upon the Captain's chair. "You parked us on the back of the conning tower?"

Pabel nodded with a released sigh. "Just like Agent Robie does with the Haven." That ship was also a captured Immobiliser 418, acting as a secret retreat for other beings on the run from the Empire.

Luten turned again to the amazing, frightening sight outside. Just two hull thicknesses between them and a crew of thousands of Imperial soldiers. "And you are sure they cannot detect us here?"

"I am not sure of anything, Luten. A TIE patrol could easily spot us if they decided to pass round the back." There was a whine of fluidics as the chair turned to the right. "Gunners, better get on the quads," he suggested, referring to their heavy quad-laser cannon, "I want any nosey starfighters dusted before they can report our position."

The two junior Mon Cals jumped off their chairs, and headed for their stations.

"And I want everyone in suits!"

"Do we have a plan?" Luten asked.

The captain was aware that everyone in his small crew had stopped to listen. "The Delicate Delinquent should not be far behind us. Hopefully the arrival of a big warship will provide enough confusion for us to sneak away, or to run for the DD's protection." He paused. "Luten, get on the sensors. Monitor the status of the gravity field. If it turns off, we need to be ready to book."

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Salmakk Neot
Port Haven, Whendyll System

"Hold that thought."

Salmakk watched in horror as the blood soaked appendage reached toward him, then the being withdrew, seemingly acknowledging the gore on her arm. A brief wave of relief flowed through him. Then the being took off toward the craft. “Crazy it is then,” the old Mon Cal muttered to himself.

Salmakk removed the liquid-cable quickly with the cut of a knife and reattached a bolt to the end of the ascension tool on the pistol. The old Mon Cal thought he was being quick, but by the time he located her position, she had disappeared into the ship, Salmakk barely catching a glance.

With a grunt the old man stood up preparing to head into the ship after her when he saw movement in the darkness from the beach and heard engines approaching. Sithspawn. The Mon Cal took off in a quick jog toward the opening. As he entered he found the mechanism that closed the hatch and punched it listening to the hatch hiss shut behind him. He followed the noise of a scuffle in the ship to see the two beings grappling. Salmakk ran up seeing an opportunity and kneed the pilot hard in the chest pushing him onto the ground on his back. He wanted to separate the two before this man befell the same fate as the one on the beach. The E-11 fell out of the man’s grip. Salmakk bent down to grab before the pilot could recover the blaster, and then tossed it toward the female.


The Mon Cal leveled the blaster at the pilot’s head. “Don’t move,” he commanded. Keeping his large eyes on the pilot, he shifted the conversation toward the female. “We have company on the beach. We need him alive. If we can get the ship to target the troopers on the beach we might have a chance. If he gives us the access codes, we might even be able to fly this thing, unless you have a better idea.” He paused for a moment then, as an afterthought, “The name is Salmakk by the way.”

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Brenda Gregin
Tailor shop Skip One smugglers run

"Quality like this, I think I can stretch to thirty credits each."

Brenda smiled greatfully as the lizzard laid out the credits for each suit. "Thank you and nice doing business with you," she watched he walked out of the door as she headed to the change room. She noticed he didn't walk out with the towel on. She picked it up and headed back to the front desk as he walked back in. "You forgot your..."

"Towel!" He about-faced, tail swinging behind him, and managed to get back inside the shop before the front door closed fully. "Sorry, my towel, did you see where I left it? Probably in the changing room."

He finished the sentence for her as she handed the towel to him. "I believe this is yours. Did you have a suit in cleaning somewhere?" She was familiar with suits being cleaned and how the occasional being walked around with a towel instead waiting for the suit to being cleaned.

Sith-I-5

IC: Fress Colias
Landing Field, Skip One Smugglers Run

Fress walked up the ramp as she heard the challenge from Dom causing her to curse under her breath. She had specified for the ryn to keep an eye on him not to accuse him. It was her job to find the truth. If something was going on at Port Haven she had a feeling Lasso may try and warn them away from the place.

As she walked to where the others were waiting. Another vision hit her causing her to freeze.

Jason, Taab and a few others were walking towards the base of the mountain. Lasso was issuing out orders to the others. She blinked her eyes and found herself in an Imperial Camp set up in a small village. The situation has escalated she thought with a frown. "Is Kopsi back yet?" She questioned sensing the strong urge to return along with the excitement and adventure she felt just before going into each battle. "Yoda would rap my knuckles if he knew what I was feeling," she muttered under her breath.

Bravo, kommando104

 

IC: Mary Formal, Sentinel-class landing craft
Location: Port Haven beach


The Imperial wasn't a bad fighter, although he clearly wasn't front line combat, and at some point, he flipped the tables on her, getting on top.

Despite her reluctance to damage his clothes, as he got his hands round her throat, she began to ease a hand free, to sort him how she had sorted his co-pilot, when his weight was lifted from her and he fell on his back on the deck.

"Don’t move."

She noticed the Mon Calamari had followed her and was pow, he clocked her in the face with a thrown E-11!

Mary decided to just lie there while he held the Imperial at gunpoint. "We have company on the beach. We need him alive. If we can get the ship to target the troopers on the beach we might have a chance. If he gives us the access codes, we might even be able to fly this thing, unless you have a better idea. The name is Salmakk by the way"

"Salmakk." She used his name for the first time. "My plan is to steal and wear his uniform so that I can try and pass for Imperial when more troops arrive. What's your plan?" The last bit was rhetoric, since he had already laid out his plan.

Mary grunted as she rolled over and rose to one knee next to the Imp. She started for the zip at the neckline of his black jumpsuit, and slapped away the hand that tried to stop her. She pulled the zip from his neck down to chest level.

"You are dead. You just do not know it."

"That's funny. Apart from the cut above my eye," She glanced meaningfully up at the old Mon Cal, then looked down at the supine pilot, "I feel fine."

"The Special One will avenge me."

"The Special One?" She savoured the title as she unzipped him to the crotch of his suit. "Salmakk, mean anything to you?"

Tag: Salmakk

---

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Skip One tailors
Location: Smugglers Run


Turned out the woman had his towel ready, already holding it towards him.

Kospi gratefully added his towel to the spare suit in the crook of his arm.

"Did you have a suit in cleaning somewhere?"

Ool stepped back to the door, suddenly regarding her tensely. "You want to watch those lucky guesses around visitors. You might attract the wrong sort of attention." He had more to say, regarding ISB and Jedi Hunters but the Mercs were in a hurry. He lifted the bent arm holding the towel. "Thanks for this."

With that, he turned, exited the shop, and pumping his powerful hind legs, crossed to where Sal was still sitting with his Fan Club.

"Alright Kids," he called as he approached them, and continued on to his ship, "we're ready to board."
As the base of his HT-2200 came into view, Ool considered that he could have told Brenda that his previous flightsuit was at the cleaners, and she could add it to her stock, since he wasn't coming back here, but he had truly been spooked by her question.
What was she, some kind of jedi?

In isolation, he would probably have dismissed it, but coming on the tail of the Squadron Leader's similar ability, it had stood out more.

Dismissing the thought, Ool turned his head to check if the humans and Ryn were following him.

Tag: Brenda, Ryn, Sal (not me now), Cain Varss

 

IC: Brenda Gergin
Tailors shop Landing field

"You want to watch those lucky guesses around visitors. You might attract the wrong sort of attention."

Brenda smirked planning to get into contact with her friend at the cleaners. It's not the first time someone left a suit at the cleaners and never returned to claim. She just sold them off as used to customers if they couldn't afford new material.

"Thanks for this."

"Welcome," Brenda waited until he left as she hit her comlink. "Did you have a lizzard give you a flight suit to clean by any chance? He came in here looking for new ones and is most likely not coming back for the suit."

IC: Fress Colias
Landing Field Skip One Smugglers Run

Fress turned around at Kospi's voice causing her to smile grimly. "Good to see you have your flight suit sorted out, destination is Port Haven. The Crusader led us in, and I plan to have him lead us out," she said indicating the YT-1300 Corellian freighter as she hit the comlink. "Saber, unlock the couplings we're leaving, download the destination into nav comps three frequencies below this one."

Saber beeped in acknowledgement as Fress commed Kasumi and everyone else. "This is Firecracker, we're leaving immediately. Saber is downloading the destination into your nav comps three frequencies below this one. Scorch is going to lead us out of the field. Once we clear the asteroid field, we will be jumping immediately. We've had run ins with the Imps a few times already and the destination has a chance of turning into a target. There is a good chance we will be going in hot. As soon we get to the destination keep all scanners peeled for any unusual activity in the area. Report to myself or Spook. May the Force be with you."

Fress looked at Sal with a frown and could sense something through the Force from him but she still had mixed feelings from him. "Get going, both of you," Sal and Dom nodded as they followed Kopsi up the ramp as she walked over to her X-wing and climbed up the ladder. Saber beeped in greeting as she settled into the seat. She quickly brought the engines off standby

//Requested for lift off, we have the green for imediate departure,// Saber reported as Fress checked over her the initial scan. Everything was green and ready to go. "Firecracker to Scorch we have the green for departure, lead everyone out of here. Single file, Phoneix and I will be escorting you out. Any problems notify me immediately. Goodluck to everyone."

If Jeth sneaked any booze he better not be chugging. She needed him to have a clear mind incase things really have swung south. The future was always in motion and never set in stone. The situation can change at the drop of a hat.

Fress hit the button notifying Atin he may lift off.

Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik, kommando104,

 

IC: Atin Taab
Crusader, Landing field, Skip 1, Smuggler's Run

"I have re-stocked my supplies of alcohol, the good stuff."

Atin wasn't sure what constituted "the good stuff" to the aruetii (foreigner). His father claimed the only alcohol worth drinking was either a stout ne'tral gal (black ale) or tihaar (colorless distilled spirt). Atin's experience with anything else was...limited, so he could merely shrug his shoulders at the Arkanian. What Jeth did with his free time was his own business and he didn't give it another thought.

The other passengers though did concern him. He had stifled a smile at the young Peter's comments. So young, so innocent. Atin couldn't remember an innocent part of his own childhood. It was always a struggle for survival, or training with his buir (father). If asked, he would have been hard pressed to decide which had been the more difficult part of his life. At least the training had him working towards something though, not just worrying about getting to the next day alive.

The child's mother at least had quickly come to his rescue. Atin couldn't remember anything about his own mother, and knew very little about his adopted one. He hadn't spent much time with her, his time with buir had mostly been spent training or working. he wondered for a moment what this mother would think of him, a young man to her eyes all dressed up in the beskar'gam (Mandalorian armor) of a warrior. It was something he still struggled with, the aruetiise (foreigners) all saw him as so young for what he was, while his own people saw him as lagging behind.

He mentally shrugged that off as he looked again to Peter. The boy looked to be around the age that Atin was when he had been adopted by Taab, and Atin could remember those first few years as some of the toughest of his life.

Atin blinked away the memory. He had been right back then, each day had been more difficult than the last. He remembered how the next day Taab had made him run for an additional three klicks after he reached the rocky crag. How it had crushed his elation at reaching his objective and filled him with a sense of dread and impending failure. But he had survived that task too, and the next day when Taab placed series of obstacles in his path he took it in stride. The time on Tatooine had toughened him up, mentally and physically. After Ranklinge he had been a survivor, but after Tatooine he learned to not only survive, but to thrive under difficult conditions.

He never did find out who that old hermit was, the man would watch his training from afar on several more occasions. Atin had taken it as a lesson to ignore what didn't matter. It was a lesson he still struggled with at times though. He looked again at the child and his mother who still grasped his small hand.

"You mother is right. I'm no robot, I'm a soldier" he said with pride. "Stick to the lounge or the crew quarters. I'm going to stow away this cargo." He left them there as he pushed the rickety cart into the forward hold and secured it there with against the bulkhead with a cargo net. There was no point in breaking it all down. It would roll off the ship easier if it was all left together. There didn't seem to be much in the way of actual medical supplies here, but Atin guessed every little bit helped.

The buy'ce clipped to his belt beeped at him at Atin looked at his gauntlet, "Firecracker's" voice came through. "This is Firecracker, we're leaving immediately. Saber is downloading the destination into your nav comps three frequencies below this one. Scorch is going to lead us out of the field. Once we clear the asteroid field, we will be jumping immediately. We've had run ins with the Imps a few times already and the destination has a chance of turning into a target. There is a good chance we will be going in hot. As soon we get to the destination keep all scanners peeled for any unusual activity in the area. Report to myself or Spook. May the Force be with you."

The Force? Really? Atin would rather trust to heavy beskar and a good blaster than the force any shabla day of the week. Still he moved back to the lounge area and told everyone to strap in, they would be leaving soon. Making his way back to the cockpit he received another message. "Firecracker to Scorch we have the green for departure, lead everyone out of here. Single file, Phoenix and I will be escorting you out. Any problems notify me immediately. Goodluck to everyone."

Atin keyed the transmitter twice, giving a double click acknowledgement of the order. Good luck. Well at least it was better than the shabla force. Atin fired up the engines and began to pull the ship up and off the landing field under repulsor power. Once they were a safe distance away he punched up the main engines and they were off and away into the asteroid field again.

TAG: Sith-I-5, JediFalcon, kommando104, Coffee_Ninja, anyone else I might have missed on Skip 1

 

IC: Cain Varss
Hanger, Skip One, Smuggler’s Run

Before Sal could give an explanation to the two the lizard was back, this time in a flightsuit, and just as quickly as he appeared, Kospi left toward his ship. With that Cain had intended to ask Sal again what he was hiding, but before he could continue the interrogation Fress spoke into the comm laying out her orders. And with that she sent Sal and the Ryn on their way and she, too, was off and headed for her fighter. Time to get off this rock.

Cain headed toward the other end of the hanger at a light jog and hurried up the ladder into the cockpit of the Z-95 and pulled his helmet on. He hit the button to bring the canopy down and started the snubfighter. A smile made its way across Cain’s face as the familiar hum of the engines filled his cockpit. He checked his ship, all engines green, blasters ready, shields up, and all systems were a go.

"Firecracker to Scorch we have the green for departure, lead everyone out of here. Single file, Phoneix and I will be escorting you out. Any problems notify me immediately. Goodluck to everyone."

“Cochise to Firecracker, I’ll bring up the rear.”

Cain gazed across the hanger, waiting and thinking. I left that bottle of expensive Corellian whiskey at the bar. Sithspit.

Just then, the YT-1300 lifted off the ground. That must be Scorch, meaning the other X-wing pilot is Phoenix. Cain followed the HT-2200 out of the hanger with the group hoping that this Scorch could navigate the asteroid field.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, JediFalcon, Sith-I-5

---

IC: Salmakk Neot
Port Haven beach

"Myplan is to steal and wear his uniform so that I can try and pass for Imperial when more troops arrive. What's your plan?"

Salmakk was about to introduce more of his plan, but before he could the pilot spoke.

"The Special One? Salmakk, mean anything to you?"

“No, but I make it a point to stay away from beings that are referred to only by a unique title.” He looked at her face and the cut over her eye. “Sorry about that cut.” He thought about taking the time to attend to the wound, but there were more important things to consider. With the female handling the pilot, Salmakk lowered his pistol.

“Besides, I’m not sure the Special One is our immediate concern. Or my immediate concern. You seem to have it all figured out, though.” The old Mon Cal needed her if he was going to survive this attack. He had to make himself valuable fast.

“Of course, they’ll send someone to investigate when the pilot doesn’t report in and realize the crew has been killed. Then what were you going to do, just walk around in a pilot uniform. That won’t be odd at all, a pilot away from her ship during the middle of an operation, especially when it’s reported that one of the pilots found dead was stripped of his uniform,” he said injecting a good amount of sarcasm into his voice.

The Mon Cal thought for a moment. “If you want to go your own way, then go, but I am going to find the Mercs. If anyone can figure a way off this planet it’s them, and I had heard some of them had arrived earlier. My assistant was all giddy when he saw a few of them at Heaven’s Water.”

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi, Peter Saint-James, Havah Jeth, the Snow White (Green Goblin) HT-2200 freighter, the Crusader, respectively
Location: Skip One landing field, Smugglers Run


Ool hurried into his ship, more concerned about following the lead ships through the asteroid field, than the upcoming fight.

Unless they were planning to break the laws of physics, more than the usual, anyway, it would likely take several hours to get to Port Haven. It wasn’t like the Whendyll System was the next one over; the Glottalphibs of Skip Five wouldn’t be popping round to borrow a cup of spice.

Climbing up onto the deck that housed the cockpit, as well as the crew lounge, he pointed a claw to the right, directing his passengers to the latter, while he himself made for the cockpit, to his left.

“You have the run of the ship, excepting the cockpit, and Cargo Bay One, which you will recognise by having ‘Cargo Bay One’ stencilled on the blast door.” The rack of probes were in there, and he didn’t want his passengers finding them.


The Tiss’shar reached the cockpit and dumped his new fleekskin spare, and the towel into the third navigator’s chair, and stood just inside the cockpit doorway with his claws on hatch controls. “Any attempt to penetrate either cockpit, or Cargo Bay One, and I space the ship. See you at Port Haven.”

He sealed and locked the doorway, then settled down in the pilot chair to start pre-flight.

Moments later, as the YT-1300’s ion engines flared, he followed her out into the maelstrom.

* * * *
Aboard the Crusader


Jeth made sure that the passengers followed Atin’s instructions, and secured themselves in the lounge. He was more comfortable with space flight, so would get things for them if they needed it.

His comlink bleeped, and Fress’ voice came through. “This is Firecracker, we're leaving immediately. Saber is downloading the destination into your nav comps three frequencies below this one. Scorch is going to lead us out of the field. Once we clear the asteroid field, we will be jumping immediately. We've had run ins with the Imps a few times already and the destination has a chance of turning into a target. There is a good chance we will be going in hot. As soon we get to the destination keep all scanners peeled for any unusual activity in the area. Report to myself or Spook. May the Force be with you.”

Atin ran off towards the cockpit.

There’s no need to run, Kid, Havah thought, it’s not like she’s aboard.

Rebecca looked up at him meaningfully, “Mister Jeth? What does she mean, the destination has a chance of turning into a target?”

Havah returned her gaze, “She means, don’t make any ******* plans.”

Typical of small boys when they hear bad words, Peter cackled like an amused Kowakian Monkey Lizard.

"I'm here all week" The taciturn Arkanian trotted off to the cockpit to sit with Atin.

Tag: Atin, Sal and Ryn, and the Skip Gang

OOC: Havah's response to Rebecca's query comes from one of comedian Denis Leary's shows.

 

IC: Fress Colias

Edge of asteroid field/Hyperspace heading towards Port Haven


As soon as everyone cleared the asteroid field she had everyone form up behind her in a V shape with her being in the center. It looked like a ward assortment of ships but she didn't see any other way to enter hyperspace with this many ships around her. "Rest up during the hyperspace jump. We have a few hours to spare before arriving at the rondevue, we're jumping now,” she reached up and pulled back on the hyperspace lever. If her vision was correct they were going in hot or the Imperial's would've moved on by the time they got there. She highly doubted that. The Imperials never gave up anything without a fight. She set the alarm for six hours. Fifteen minutes before coming out of the hyperspace jump. She leaned her head against the side of the cockpit and closed her eyes.

A persistant beeping of an astromech causing Fress to snap her eyes open and noticed they still had a few hours left from their first jump. She noticed Saber was beeping at her. "What is it?"

//Talking in your sleep. Are you having a malfunction?// Saber questioned as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"No, but you will be if you do that to me again," Fress snipped back. "I think I had a dream or a vision. I think I was at my wedding, but the grooms identity was hidden from me," she paused for a second as what Saber asked caught up with her. "What did I say in my sleep?"

//I Fress take you as my husband. You must be malfunctioning.//

Fress stared at the translator screen in shock. “I am not and human’s dream. I wonder who the man was in my dream. I swore never to get into another relationship, weird, I sensed that I knew him,” she stiffled a yawn and looked at the clock. “Still have a few hours left before emerging. I’m going to grab some more rest. Keep an eye on things and only wake me if something has gone wrong with the X-wing or we’re close to coming out of the jump. Night Saber.”

//Night Fress.//
----------------------

IC: Seira Trasks
Hyperspace

Seira blinked her eyes open as she noticed there was still time left in the jump. Fress was bold that was for sure and her military training shone through those last few transmissions. She shook her head giving a light stretch as she thought back to the botched mission. Her fiance and her were attempting to bring in a bounty worth enough to allow them to retire at an early age. Somehow he caught wind of them being there for him.

Seria reached up and wiped tears from her eyes. To this day it still hurt. She refused to allow anyone to get close to her after that. It hurt too much to think about going through it again. And yet somehow she had a feeling Fress would understand. She brought up Fress’s profile on the computer and read through the missions and background.

Fress was from Alderaan, how could she sit there hours after the planet exploded and be able to carry on without breaking down? It wasn’t healthy yet when you’re life depended on it. You had to carry on or be killed next. She must be really good at pushing her feelings aside, Seria thought with a frown. She knew as a squadron leader, Fress had to push everything aside to allow her to continue on.

Something on the screen caught her eye, miscarriage? At age sixteen? She blinked in surprise wondering who the father was. She looked further down and noted the father died two weeks before in battle. Fress must’ve been a wreck after that. I guess loss only makes you stronger in the end, she reflected with a frown.

The odd part about this particular bounty was Fress never fully trained and after knowing she had left the path of the Jedi for a chance at starting a family. The only part that confused her was why did Vader want her so bad alive capture only if she didn’t fully train? She must know something about him or he wanted to know something about him. What was the question and she highly doubted Fress would tell anyone what that reason was.

There was no way she could turn Fress in, she had a feeling they had a connection through loss. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She couldn’t turn the younger woman in after knowing she had suffered something similar to her.
-------------
IC: Sal Brooks (Rav Carter) Dom, Ryn
Enroute to Port Haven

Rav sat down as Dom watched him with suspicion. Dom had challenged him earlier and he wasn’t too appreciative that he butting in on business he had no place knowing. “Don’t you have something better to do like sleep? As Sherland told us to do.”

Dom smiled grimly as he shook his head stubbornly. “Nothing better to do, I don’t trust you. There is something about you that speaks I am lying.”

“Then why did Sherland hire me if I passed their little background check?” Rav challenged with a serious expression.

“I’m sure if she found out if you did lie to her, don’t be around for the aftermath. I have a feeling she wouldn’t hestitate to eject you out the air lock. I get the feeling she isn’t one you should cross,” Dom smirked annoyingly.

Rav sat back leaning his head against the wall and closed his eyes. If Sherland did discover he lied to her before he had a chance to steal the Johnny Boy, he had a feeling he would not survive the confrontation. Dom was right, she was not a woman you crossed. Otherwise they wouldn’t be sticking her in the squadron leader position and that was speaking a lot. It was rare for a female to make that position which only made him wonder what kind of background she came from and what the extent of her training was. He had listened on his comlink as she issued orders. They were down to business and not beating it around the bush. “You’re most likely right. It’s rare for a female to make squad leader in a Mercenary group. That’s speaking a lot in itself,” I’m dead if she discovers the truth, he thought to himself. “I’m not hiding anything, just looking for a fresh start.”

Rav could sense distrust from Dom and he wasn’t Force sensititve. Almost like Dom was watching him in disbelief. He imagined the look on the Ryn’s face and smirked.

Tag Sith-I-5

 

IC: Josch Decinchi alias Zieleb-Xan ‘Mac’ Macja
The Delicate Delinquent, enroute to Port Haven

"We need to check those larger pipes’ emergency hatches. There should be several on the bottom level. You up to the task for a little game of finding Imperial listening devices?"

Josch wondered whose bright idea this was, Palso’s or Yav’s. To him it seemed kinda silly to look for ‘Imperial listening devices’ in water pipes. He thought that the running water would cause the listener to only hear rushing water. But then again, he was not overly familiar with the tools of spies and espionage organizations.

"We’ll have to stop the flow of whatever liquids are in these pipes or risk swimming in it once we open the hatches. You work on this hatch, I’ll work on the next pipe over. We’re looking for a listening device probably planted on the inside of the emergency hatch. Savvy?" With that Palso set to work on the hatch he had indicated.

Josch parroted the pirate’s actions with his own hatch. He stood back, trying to stay out of the liquids splash zone. Lucky for him it was not a waste/return liquid pipe, he planned on avoiding those for as long as he could. Josch searched the hatch like Palso suggested, but he decided that he wanted to make certain that he did a thorough search. He climbed up into pipe and wiggled his way down it, a small glowrod, held between his teeth, provided him with some illumination.

The tightly confide space would normally have set his back teeth on edge, but for some reason it was comforting. He felt safe and secure with in the piping, like nothing could penetrate its protective shell. Without him realizing it, the glowrod slipped from his teeth as he drifted to sleep out of exhaustion.

With a gasp, Josch shot straight up in bed, his bare torso drenched in a cold sweat. He didn’t know how, but he knew the bed he was in belonged to him. In an attempt to slow his heart rate, Josch swung his legs over the edge of the bed and took several deep breaths with his eyes closed. A soft hand found its way on to his back and began to gently rub him.

“What’s wrong Sweetheart?” asked the distinctly feminine voice that belonged to the soft hand.

Neither gave him a start, it was like they belonged there and he was used to them. Josch reached up and ran his own hands through his damp hair. “I was back there. I was on the Delicate Delinquent on our way to Port Haven to meet up with the rest of the Mercs.” He let his hands fall back down to the bed, grasping on to the edge of the mattress, and released the tension in his neck causing his head to hang loosely.

The hand on his back came up over his shoulder, crossed his chest, and joined its partner that had wrapped itself around Josch’s opposite arm. The woman laid her head on his unoccupied shoulder which caused her wavy, orange-reddish blonde hair to fall into view. “That was a long time ago Josch, everything is okay, we’re both safe and sound. The Empire can’t find us here."

He placed his hand on top of both of hers. “I know, honey,” Josch wanted to use her real name, but for some reason it was eluding him, “But I just can’t seem to get it off my mind.”

She gently kissed him on the cheek and whispered sultrily in his ear, "Come back to bed, Sweetie, and I’ll give you something to take your mind off the past.”

A grin curled the left side of his mouth as he turned around to look at her. As his eyes were about to look upon his female companion…

CHIRP! CHIRP!! CHIRP!!!

The call of his comlink once again snapped him awake before the mystery woman could be revealed. Was it a dream? Was it a vision? Was it both?

“Search Team personnel, great job, great job. Stand down and get what sleep you can.”

Josch shook himself even more awake and slowly crept back out of the tube. As he made his way to his rack all he could think about was the strawberry-blonde beauty and hoped that she would be visiting his dreams again so he could gather more clues to her identity.

TAG: Bravo Sith-I-5