Star Wars The Red Krayt: A Pirates Story

IC: Zerax , Kuroda
Minutes to Takeoff!

"So where're headed, Cap'n?"

"Oh! Our heading is in the Geonosis Sector" Zerax addressed the Twilek behind him, he pressed a few last buttons on the holo-projector that controlled coloring and image quality. Outward from the bridge's projector, ejected a bright blue hologram of a planetoid with accompanying writings, some of the text was in basic but a few key pieces were in some digital code. "We'll be able to jump there easy, my dear Samira, plus this place hasn't been touched by Hutts or Imps. Though truth be told, I hope Lobo gets in, we need to leave."

Kuroda clicked the last nav-coordinates as his computer pinged its completion loudly. "Captain, the coordinates are complete, are we clear to shove off?"

"Call in Lobo!" Zerax replied to the Quay. "Get in that man before we pass the skies. Samira, take the helm and take us out of the sky, I'll click off the hyperdrive switch when we see dark space!"

Kuroda got out of his chair and ran back towards the turbolift. "I'll see if Lobo and his little droid need a hand getting in" The Quay saluted to his captain, the Sanyassan returned in kind before making his way to the hyper-switch.

TAG: @Sarge , @T4M1-7 (Everyone

 

OOC: Stay on target... almost there...

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba
In Over His Head

The first mate was saying Red Krayt was prepared for hyperspace... which was good... but a small swarm of disc-shaped shuttles were scooping up the boarding party from the docks and moving to intercept... which was bad. Domenico wasn't about to try to dock with the corvette while under attack. The only sensible thing to do would be to drive off the boarders first.

The shuttles were smaller and more aerodynamic than the Hammerhead, but his N-4 was even faster and much more maneuverable in atmosphere. He turned and positioned the Cutlass for a three-quarters head-on pass at the shuttles. "Shields forward, Tready, we're going in."

Domenico tore past the discs, scoring a few hits with his blasters, but there wasn't enough time to penetrate the saucers' shields. Gunners were shooting back, mostly missing, but not entirely. The fighter rocked and shook from glancing blows. "Shields are down to 78%, Master Domenico." Tready sounded tense.

The Cutlass dove and turned, then swooped up from beneath the shuttles. Domenico switched to his ion cannon and lined up his sights, pummeling the target and weakening its shields before being forced to break away from the return fire. As he repositioned for another attack run, Red Krayt opened fire. Samira's turret scored a solid hit and a shuttle fell away. Was that the same ship I just hit? No time to figure that out. Cutlass and saucers traded shots, none of them penetrating shields, but numbers were against Domenico. "Shields at 49%, Master Domenico!" The astromech was now sounding utterly trepidatious.

"One more pass, Tready." As he arced overhead of Red Krayt he rolled inverted and looked down on the tall ship. Another boarding shuttle was getting close to the pirate ship. Suddenly a tractor beam flickered from the corvette. Instead of the standard wide field that enveloped an entire ship, this one was narrowly focused on the saucer's edge. Abrupt tension yanked the shuttle's nose down. It flipped and tumbled like a leaf, falling away with a spinning force that would likely overcome inertial dampers and slam the crew mercilessly into their restraints. He wondered if all of them were strapped in.

The remaining shuttles fired again, catching Domenico by surprise with a vicious crossfire of ion bolts. In an instant, shields were gone, lightning flickered across his cockpit and body, and Tready was screaming in a paralyzed electronic feedback loop. Domenico spasmed helplessly in electrical agony. The Cutlass dropped like a streamlined rock.


Black was all around him. Had he passed out? He blinked slowly, looking around. His Cutlass was in a tractor beam, which was reeling him in toward its parking place atop the Red Krayt. Stars elongated ahead of him and blurred into the bluish swirls of hyperspace. Somehow the tractor beam maintained lock and pulled the Cutlass in. Systems were returning to life, as was Tready. The ionization charge must have bled off. Judging by the way he felt, every last ampere might have bled off through him. Every muscle felt like it had been pulled to the breaking point.

Moving shakily and gingerly, he retrieved his breath mask from his emergency gear. It was a top-of-the-line model that also protected his body with an atmospheric containment field, which would be adequate to get him to the airlock. "Tready, see to the ship, I'm going inside."

"I think not, Master Domenico. The ship was thoroughly ionized, as was I. We both need at least an hour to let the last of the static charge dissipate. I'll come back and check it later."

Had the ion blast affected Tready's processors? The droid had never before directly disobeyed him like that. But there was nothing he could do about it. He climbed out onto the hull, noticing some carbon scoring in the Cutlass's gloss finish, and it wasn't likely to buff out. This is why I can't have nice things.

Eventually he made it to the bridge. He nodded to the others, hoping they wouldn't notice how shaky he was from being electrocuted. He looked for the Squib, who was recoiling from having his paws swatted away from a console by the first mate.

"Whookiee, if that was you operating the tractor beam, I am in your debt." He bowed gratefully.

"Indebted-to-me!" squeaked the excited rodentoid. Too late, Domenico remembered how Squibs were when it came to debts and bargains. He should have chosen his words more wisely. Whookiee was peering at him closely, looking him up and down. "Is-that-a-Pyke-shock-whip? Ooh, koovy-keen! Let-me-see!"

Domenico had forgotten he had taken the whip, and willingly handed it over, hoping that was the end of the matter. He turned his attention to the captain, trying not to be distracted by any under clothed green Twi'leks.


TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Samira


Samira cupped her chin when Captain Zerax informed of her their destination.

Geonosis? She had vaguely heard of it. That would be a good long jump, and remote, too. She thought of asking the captain "Why?" but had learned from experience that asking questions about Zerax's plans usually just brought more infuriatingly mysterious answers. She suspected sometimes he did not actually have a plan, but just went with intuitive decisions in the moment.

On the other hand, he did have a knack for getting to his destination, one way or another.

There was no time to worry about it further. The ship was ready for hyperspace, they just needed to break away from the planet's gravity well - and out of the atmosphere. But stupid Lobo was still outside in his posh yacht.

Kuroda dashed off to help bring in the fighter, so Zerax commanded Samira to take the helm. The Twi'lek leapt into the pilot seat and grabbed the joystick. She was no pilot, but keeping the ship steady while it arrowed up through the stratosphere she could do.

Samira glanced out of the cockpit screen and saw Lobo's blue fighter looping and firing at the enemy shuttles. Idiot, she thought to herself. We're ready to jump and he's still swashbuckling around trying to look good.

Whookiee seemed to have similar thoughts. The Squib had bounced into the cockpit, and was now working the tractor beam controls while Captain Zerax concentrated on final double-checks and adjustments to the hyperdrive in consultation with his mysterious map.

As she watched the little furry engineer, Samira realised he was fine-tuning the tractor beam to pull in Lobo.

"Oh just leave the rapscallion out there!" she scolded Whookiee. "We're almost ready to go!"

But the Squib worked the controls with astonishing dexterity, his little paws flying over the panel. And sure enough, with a clunk that echoed throughout the ship, the Cutlass clamped onto the Krayt.

"Now can we get out of here, please?" she appealed to Zerax.

Kuroda had returned, reinforcing the assumption that the human was safely back on board, and Samira offered to surrender the conn back to the first mate. But Kuroda saw that Whookiee had been messing with his tractor beam controls and came to swat them away.

And then he walked in.

Samira's scowl was replaced by a frown of confusion as she saw that Lobo was slightly smoking - the star battle must have been hotter than she realised. Lobo quickly realised it must have been Whookiee that pulled him in and gave a sincere thanks.

And the Squib was next eyeing up the human's electro-whip.

Wait, what? When did he get an electro-whip?

It doesn't matter, Samira shook her head. She realised she was still in the pilot's seat. The atmosphere had cleared from the cockpit and they were now into the rich black darkness of the endless void.

"Cap'n, we're ready to jump to hyperspace!"

@Sgt.Matt @Sarge

 

IC: Zerax
SAILING!

"Let's spin it! Hold on!" Zerax punched in the hyperdrive switch upward, the ship shuddered like it had a cold and the cockpit windows were now enveloped in a endless blue aura. Hyperspace enveloped the craft in blue and white, shuddering stopped as they drifted at high speed, Zerax chuckled at their escape. He remembered worse days, like the one time Kuroda and Samira dealt with that one madclaw or the time Catankerous Tim accidentally welded the fuel shafts to the plumbing, but those always ended like today. A captain and his miraculous crew escaped lady danger once again, I swear Lady Luck is keeping hold over us. Relaxing from the hyperdrive switch, the captain looked back at the now filled room of crewmates and droids. And now, it's time for the full revealation, as most pirate captains would do per the code.

"Now, since we're all in Hyperspace, I am going to reveal the destination of our hunt," Zerax stood by the left of the holo-projector, allowing everyone a little view of the target. "This is Savo-4, one of the few moons on Geonosis long since abandoned by its buggy population in the Clone Wars, virtually uninhabited. But before now, it was the hidden vault for the CIS war treasures; a nook for the Seperatists to dump their stolen or 'borrowed' goods until the war ends. As stated in this datamaps log, we're stumbling upon gold ingots from Jabiim to mounds of jewels carved by Muunilists finest. Any questions before I continue?"

TAG: @T4M1-7 , @Sarge

 

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba


Domenico shrugged. He had grown up with money, so the prospect of more didn't really excite him. More would be better than less, of course, but all he really needed now was to lay low until House Melantha had calmed down enough to not have him imprisoned or executed when he returned home.

The rest of the crew seemed pleased with the revelation, though. Good for them.

Mongo waddled over to him and carefully placed the silly hat back on his head.

"Thank you, Mongo," mumbled Domenico quietly. He wanted to take the thing off, but that would mean raising his arms, which was more effort and pain than he was willing to endure at the moment.


TAG: @Sgt.Matt @T4M1-7

 

IC: Samira


Samira listened intently. Savo-4, moon of Geonosis, dumping place for old Clone Wars loot.

That all made sense - a galactic-wide war needed financing, and when things turn south resources do tend to suddenly go "missing" as the rats abandon the sinking ship. It could be easy pickings.

Samira watched Zerax carefully. She had an idea that the word "BUT..." was destined to appear somewhere in the near future...

@Sgt.Matt @Sarge

 

IC: Zerax, Kuroda
Intrepid Bridge

"No questions? Excellent, then we're all in agreement in storming the vault," Zerax pressed another node on the projector, the planet image zoomed up to reveal a red dot and the dot morphed into a honeycombed, mountain palace. "Now for brass tacks, the vaults holding is in this little palace area; we can dock close behind the palace as the only one seems a little small for us. The log states that we must take heed of the palace 'guardian', TA-10, probably some wrecked droi-"

"What if there are other things waiting for us? Cap'n?" Kuroda piqued, hand outstretched. "Those bugs have very scary ways of home security, even after the Empire cracked down on em."

Zerax took this in with a nod of acknowledgement. "Aye, ye maybe right on that matter; there was three other things I forgot to mention from the logbook. Mapmaker mentioned that trespassers will 'deal with the might of his ancestors fury' and face droids not seen on the field" The Captain chuckled a bit at the last part, he knew the CIS's droids well enough as a cabin boy himself. Most droids he faced were common grunts that a simple blaster shot or heavy gun would put them down, Zerax could recall that the more dangerous mechanoids were being produced for more frontline work than facing pirates. "As much as I believe this mapmakers droids are scrap after these years, we should all tread with some caution as good ol'Gunray may have left us some surprises on Savo. But danger aside; everyone take a few moments to rest up or get used to the ship, we have some time before we near the Geonosis Sector."

TAG: @Sarge , @T4M1-7

 

IC: Whookiee

With the captain's dismissal, the Squib darted out of the bridge toward the engine room, clutching his new Pyke shock whip. He was eager to take it apart and see what made it tick. It was a bonus that he hadn't had much opportunity to fiddle with Pyke tech, so he'd likely learn a thing or two. And he'd be messing up Pyke stuff as another bonus. He didn't much like Pykes. Whookiee grinned and broke into a favorite song.



I was down on my luck on the dunes of Tatooine
Craving for spice when I heard a man say
I got the fastest sand rigger in all of the Dune Seas
And I need forty crew who can help me away

When I asked the old salt of the work he was meaning
He said taking the fat Pyke-ee trains on the lee
When I asked of the wages of all me hard labor
He threw back his head and he bellered at me

[Chorus:]
No purchase no pay is the rule of the day
If we don't take a prize then you'll go empty handed
You'll fight like a krayt to help pluck a fine jewel
If anyone stands against us you'll help them to die

We shipped out on a sail barge to ply the sweet trade
And weren't gone but a week when we spied our fair prey
Three long Pyke landspeeders a-stalled out to windward
But we had the surprise and we seized the day

We engaged em' full on and we fought them like gundarks
One of us three of them yet we won't let them flee
And I had but one question for our rugged sand captain
Why did you never say they'd be shooting at me?

[Chorus:]

We fired our blasters and we captured those spice trains
They was as full of spice as those Pyke-ees could be
I made a small fortune from my one adventure
And retired from a short career in piracy

Now I sit here in this Mos Eisley cantina
Drinking the best that my money will buy
I'll work and I'll fight and I'm still a fine sailor
But there ain't enough money to pay me to die

[Chorus x2:]


TAG: @Sgt.Matt @T4M1-7

 

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba


Domenico didn't have the energy for a sigh of relief when Captain Zeraz said they had time to rest. He turned for the main corridor and his new bunk without even waiting to watch the Twi'lek walk by. As he exited the bridge, his feet caught on something and he tripped, falling flat on his face. He looked up to see Mongo looking embarrassed and trying to hide a two-and-a-half meter long pole arm behind his back.

"Sorry," mumbled the Gammorean and extended a hand to help him up. Domenico was about to lambast Mongo's clumsiness, but before he spoke, he noticed that the palm and fingers of the big green hand were badly blistered. He had forgotten how Mongo had saved him by hauling on the shock whip.

"I'm all right, Mongo. Just be careful with that pike, and get yourself patched up in sickbay."

"Mongo no have pike! Mongo have halberd. Pike is pointy thrusty weapon. Halberd is hacking swingy weapon." Mongo spoke with the careful concentration of a child trying to remember left and right. He had worked hard to learn the different types of pole arms. "Where is sickbay?"

"Down the corridor, behind the door that says sickbay." Domenico ducked as Mongo turned and the halberd on the Gammorean's shoulder swung toward him. "Careful, Mongo! Every stick has two ends!"

"Oh, sorry!" Mongo studied the nearest door earnestly for a long moment, then turned back to Domenico, inadvertently swinging the halberd again. "Mongo no read."

Domenico sighed. "Of course you don't. All right, first we go in here." He led Mongo into the cargo hold where he had met some of the ship's droids. "See, Mongo, since you have the biggest weapon, you get to stay here in the biggest room. You leave your halberd here, and after you get your hands fixed, you can decide where in this room you want to sling your hammock." As he was talking, X1M entered the hold and his armored face somehow conveyed a look of curiosity to Domenico. "Come on, Mongo, I'll show you where to go next." He turned to X1M, gestured toward Mongo and whispered, "Teach him to read." X1M whispered back, "I'm not a miracle worker."

Farther down the corridor, they entered the sickbay and spotted a 2-1 series medical droid. Had it been on the bridge with the rest of them? Domenico didn't remember and was too tired to care... until it began speaking.

“Arrr! What have we here? Two medical emergencies! Twice the amputations, twice the pay, and twice the fun!"

"What? No! No amputations, just basic burn ointments-"

"Arrr! I just be one poor droid, so one of you'll have to wait while I treat the other, but we'll have you both anaesthetized in a mynock's heartbeat, you won't feel a thing when your limbs are falling to the deck, me hearties."

The droid was lurching forward with a syringe extended. Domenico backpedaled rapidly. Mongo looked around for a weapon and wished he hadn't left his halberd behind in his big new quarters.

"Priority safety override! Halt!" Domenico sighed in relief as the medic pulled up short, it's one functional eye flickering momentarily as its processors rebooted.

"Arrr! Why do people do that to me? It's just rude, is what it is."

"Rude? What do you call threatening to amputate limbs, a mild annoyance?!"

"Arrr! Tis what I'm best at, and I take pride in me work, bucko! You're too young for a pegleg, but a hook on your hand will make you look dashing."

"No! No hooks, no peglegs, no amputations! Burn ointment! For him, not me!"

"Arrr! Why didn't you say so? Heave alongside, greeny, and hold out your meathooks."

In a matter of moments, Mongo's hands were slathered in ointment and wrapped in plastiskin. One Eye seemed to have reasonably competent skills, once it was started on the correct task.

"Arrr! Now, let's have that armor off, big fella, and I'll patch up your torso."

Mongo clutched his rancor-leather breastplate. "No! Not getting undressed." He looked down at the deck. "Mongo shy."

They argued back and forth, and finally Mongo reluctantly pulled the armor off his chest. It stuck to his flesh for a moment in the area where Domenico had sliced it. Mongo looked down at himself and his eyes widened at the shallow wound. "Look! The L that stands for Lobo!" he cried exultantly.



"Arrr! Tis a nasty scar, but we'll have that clean as a whistle in two shakes of a womprat's tail."

"No! No erase L! Mongo is Lobo's friend now!"

"Arrr! It chafes me programming to leave a visible scar, which is why I always amputate." Domenico didn't follow the droid's logic, but it was pressing forward with its 'reasoning.' "Hold still and this won't hurt a bit. Unless you want it to; I can do it that way if you'd like. Here, bite down on the strap."

"No! No! The bold renegade carves an L with his blade! The L that stands for Lobo!"

Mongo and One Eye were so wrapped up in their argument that neither one noticed when Domenico slipped out the door and headed for his room.


TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt

OOC: I did my best to capture Dr One Eye's voice. How did I do?

 

IC: Kuroda
Ship Quarters



Kuroda upon being dismissed by his captain, made headway towards his little kingdom on the Krayt, the secondary section of his captains cabin was his very own room. His side was rather grungy in appearance; bunk was a nest of Jedha quilts and dull grey spacer pillows, twin clothing drawers were welded in, and a couple crates aside his beside carried his grenade weapons. Where is that bottl-OH THERE IT IS! The Quay saw the bottle of spice-gin laid on his bedside, his captain was not fond of spice being used on the ship and frowned on people huffing it on duty, however alcohol infused spice was a different tale. Kuroda grabbed the greying bottle, yanked off the cork and took a swig of the green glowing liquor; remnants of hot fire pouring into his gullet. Polishing off the last swigs of the liquid leftover, the Quay's cybernetic optics flickered in coloring as the spice kicked his synapses into overdrive and caused him to experience brief spice euphoria. Ahhh this is the life, in a few days jump, I'll be swimming in treasure and maybe, get to knowing Samira again.

Prior to her eventual capture, Kuroda had a small infatuation with Samira during their years as pirates; mostly birthed by Zerax pairing them up for scouting jobs. However, that was puppy-love for a young lad and he was still a cabin boy back then, pirate code didn't have a rule against relations with crewmembers but the Quay was unsure if it would've turned up right. "Dunno if she stills remembers how we worked together," Kuroda mumbled, his spice haze was dimming quick due to the cheap chemical products. "Frak, I wonder if she even knew that her partner crushed on her? Maybe it's best if I don't question much."

Then something came up on his mind, a certain bauble he had laying about his fragmentation grenades and stun cartridges; the Quay drunkenly stumbled to his pile of boxes. Digging through endless weaponized bric-a-brac, Kuroda dug his leathery fingers around a braided necklace, thin golden brown coils interconnected by sapphires. It was a Weequay braid necklace, very hard to come by for normal spacers unless if you know your cultural jewelry, luckily the Red Krayt had one such person who did. Maybe Samira might enjoy this as a starting treasure, I stole this off a Hutt merchant's dead neck.

With a shake of his head to rouse out his waking eyes and rushing out the cabin doors; Kuroda made his focus to surprise his new Twilek guest on the ship.

TAG: EVERYONE

 

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba, and Samira


Domenico slipped out of sickbay, happy to not see any more of Mongo's unclothed torso. That might be enough to turn me off green skin for life.

Samira stalked back toward her bunk room, once Captain Zerax had declared their destination and offered time for R&R. She was surprised to see the human coming the other way.

He had looked so toasted during the briefing, she had thought he was already turned in. Then she saw the medbay's door beyond and put two and two together.

"You've met One-eye, then?" she smiled.

Domenico smiled back reflexively. Considering how the day had gone, it was a nice change to be smiled at by a pretty lady. And he was already moving past the green-skin aversion that Mongo had inflicted on him. Then he saw the look in her eyes and realized her smile wasn't really a warm one. His own smile faltered.

"Ahh... I see. You knew about the droid's predilections. A joke at the expense of the new man, then. Some sort of hazing ritual?"

Caught in and embarrassed by what she now realised was a pretty juvenile stunt, Samira immediately went on the offensive.

"Yeah, you're new, so someone needs to tell you; when we're about to hit hyperspace you don't go off swashbuckling in your posh yacht to show off. What if you had trouble docking in time? You could have delayed us all!"

She scowled then turned to head to her own bunk room.

Domenico thought dully that he ought to be irritated, but he didn't have the energy. "You complained that my ship was blocking your field of fire. I moved my ship. What else was I supposed to do?"

Samira huffed and turned back. She could not walk away without getting the last word in.

"You could have manned the cannons and concentrated on the bow, just like I said!"

"I've never manned a cannon or a turret in my life." His eyes dropped in embarrassment, then he realized what it must look like to Samira if he talked to her while looking down, so he met her eyes again and pressed on. "It did not seem wise to ask for an instructional course while we were being shot at. This ship needed to be defended, so I defended it as seemed best to me, as I knew how."

Samira shrugged. “Well, now you know better. Remember it. And the turrets are not hard, even I can teach you the controls in about ten minutes…”

Domenico's mouth twisted wryly. "You may have surmised that I am rather new to the pirate life. There is much that I need to learn, I daresay. I'm certain I could spare ten minutes or more to learn turrets tomorrow, if you'd be so kind...?"

Samira realised her mistake a moment after she said it. It was not meant to be an invitation or offer. She stamped her foot in frustration and huffed.

"I didn't mean... oh, alright then. Someone had better show you, before you blow off bits of the Krayt. Now good night!"

She turned for the last time and marched to her bunk room.

As Samira stalked away, Domenico took a moment to appreciate that she kept herself in good shape. A very good shape.

He collapsed onto his bunk without even kicking off his boots. Or taking off his hat, as he realized the moment his head hit the pillow. He tossed the ridiculous thing across the room and it landed perfectly on a hat rack. At least that was one thing that had gone right today. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep. It didn't take long at all.


TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt

 

Combo: Samira & Kuroda (I'm assuming you two meant to post this and never got a round tuit, so I figured I could do it. Hope that's OK.)


Samira emerged from her bunk room with a grim determination to face another day on board the Krayt. Things should be relaxed now they were in hyperspace, especially as they had Gildy to help with general ship-board cleaning duties. But Samira had inadvertently "volunteered" to train Lobo how to use the turret cannons, and was still cross with herself for walking into that one.

The Twi'lek had been up early, to get in and out of the showers before Mongo and Burg came in. That, it now seemed, had been an unnecessary precaution. Neither of the huge beings actually showered that often, it had become apparent.

So Samira was already scowling with a bad start to the day when, to her surprise, she bumped into Kuroda. The young Quay had been waiting for her in the corridor, it seemed...

"M...Morning Samira," Kuroda smiled, the liquid courage in his system steeled any nervous energy, though for how long was anyone's guess. The necklace was held behind his back as he stood next to the Twilek, he gulped back the last minute puppy love energy boiling in his gut. "I wanted to give this to ya, it's a Weequay braid necklace."

He then revealed the necklace into the corridors flickering light, sapphires started to shine a bit under the rather poor lighting. "I was meaning to give this to ya when we were sailing back then, didn't get much of a chance to do it due to our ventures. But now, I wanted you to have this as your first treasure of the voyage," Kuroda said, his smile slowly turning sheepish as his face blushed.

Samira hesitated, confused. Kuroda was passing her some personal treasure? That did not make sense. Then she saw his sheepish smile and realisation dawned.

He is giving me a gift, a necklace.

"Oh, I..."

Samira was uncharacteristically lost for words for a moment. The Twi'lek had been treated as little more than a slave or object for most of her life. She enjoyed the life of a pirate as she had then been treated with respect. Shipmates even looked out for one another. It could, daresay, be likened to a friendship.

But she had never been treated like this before. She looked again at Kuroda. The young Quay was growing up, it could not be denied. He was no longer a lad, he was a young man. And she had always had a soft spot for Kuroda.

She regarded the necklace. That was genuine Weequay braid (she could tell the fakes now), and those looked like sapphires. This might be worth quite a few creds, she caught herself thinking. Samira bit her lip and chastised herself viciously for even forming such a thought. Sorry, she apologised internally, it's just a reflex.

He is gifting this to me.

Samira felt a strange warm glow inside at the gesture, in the place where a heart and emotions should be. The place inside her that for so long had been ice cold and defensive. It was melting.

She accepted the necklace with a smile and a bow of thanks.

"It's beautiful," she managed. "Thank you, really."

There was a moment of awkwardness. She felt like she owed him something more. This was all new to her. Then other doors started opening in the corridor. The other crew were stirring awake. The moment was broken.

Samira stepped close to Kuroda and whispered. "You know, you're just too good to be a pirate. Thank you."

Then she went on her way.


"You know, you're just too good to be a pirate. Thank you."

Kuroda all but melted upon hearing her voice thank him, he tried to say something in return but his mouth was fluttering and only vague gibberish. Internally, he wanted to call her back and unleash the floodgates but morning had come; everyone was pouring out for the daily ship routine, Captain was probably waking up by now as well. "I may be too good but I'm still a pirate nonetheless, my bonny lass" Kuroda mumbled, he smiled as she left out of sight with the necklace in hand.

Then an astromech scooted by him and chuckled something in Jawa.

"I am not a lovesick mush-puppy you swab!" Kuroda snapped out of his blushing trance, now rather irate with the small droid's further comments. "And what do you mean I should go to a Gungan nunnery? Explain?"


TAG: @Sgt.Matt @T4M1-7

 

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba, Samira

In Red Krayt's crew lounge, Domenico studied his latest work critically. Tready was holding up an exterior access panel from his fighter's nose, and Domenico was painting over some carbon scoring that hadn't buffed out. The pirate ship's supply lockers lacked the correct shade of Lightning Blue (Naboo Factory Color Code N6), so he had decided to hide the surface damage with nose art. It had turned out rather well, in his opinion.




Samira stalked into the crew lounge, and found him there. She harrumphed, half wishing he was not.

She marched over. "Come on then, let's get on with it."

Samira saw what he was painting then and paused. To get angry about it, to react, would be to admit that she cared and a sort of defeat. This was a pirate ship. Each crew member was free. Sensitivities should be left at the door.

So instead she snorted. "Someone you know?"

A corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I suppose that depends on how much you anthropomorphize ships. My Cutlass needed a name, so I've decided to call her Cut Lass." He glanced at Samira and added in an ironic tone, "Seems fitting for a pirate ship, yes-no? Tready, this is finished, you are relieved from easel duty. Take it to the engine room and leave it close to the reactor so the heat will help it cure."

"Of course, Master Domenico," replied the droid. Domenico glared at it; he had told it to keep his real name secret, but ever since being ionized, Tready had been glitchy. Deciding that saying anything about the droid's gaffe would only call attention to the matter, Domenico changed the subject quickly.

"But, here is someone you might know." He picked up a freshly framed canvas and bowed extravagantly as he turned it toward her. "At the tavern you said something about escaping from a Hutt, and that gave me the inspiration for this one."




Samira was taken aback by the image suddenly thrust at her. She forgot for a moment all about the name by which the droid had addressed the human.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

A strange set of emotions rushed through her mind. She knew she wanted to feel outrage. How dare he? But... it just caught her by surprise so much. It was an odd and unsettling thing to see oneself depicted through the eyes of another.

Samira recovered. The wall of cynicism reasserted itself.

"That's not funny," is all that she would comment. "Come on. We're going to the turret."

Domenico was relieved that she hadn't noticed Tready's slip of the tongue. But he was a bit nonplussed at her reaction to the painting; most girls oohed and aahed over the way he painted them. What didn't she like about it? Was it the pose? Maybe it didn't call enough attention to the bouncy boombahs that she flaunted so proudly? He could try to fix that in the next painting.

She marched in silence along the corridor then lead him up the ladder and back down the walkway to the main dorsal gunnery bubble. Samira slipped in first then gestured for him to squeeze in after her.

Domenico could see at once that the turret was really too small for two people, but the close quarters didn't seem to bother Samira, and he had no cause to complain about being pressed in tightly with her. In their close proximity, he couldn't help noticing a faint aroma of wildflowers.

She got on with it, businesslike.

"Okay, primary panel is up above, here. All these switches need setting to on. This is main power, this activates the cannons, this starts the laser cell power-up, I can't remember what these two do but switch them on, then this is seat control activation, and this is comms. Oh..."

She looks to her right. "This is the comms panel, you put this headset on. It should always be set to channel three. That's internal link to bridge and the other turrets. One is an isolated channel just to the bridge. If there is too much chatter and everyone speaks at once it jams, so cap'n may tell you to switch to one. Two I think is just to captain's quarters - like if you are just here on watch. I never use two. Four is everywhere, including the bunks and engineering. So, yeah, stay on three unless cap'n orders to go to one."

She blusters on, next pointing to the control wheel. "This is your main control column in combat - it directs the cannons. It's like a starfighter yoke; turn left or right for orientation, pull back or push forward for elevation. It's sensitive and the differentials allow for a little roll-on after you adjust. So, small nudges yeah? Lead the target and don't turn too sharply, or it overcorrects. This console in the middle is your main focus in a fight. This switches on the targeting grid, and you set range here with this dial. It lights up here when you get a lock. These are the auto-tracking settings. Auto is useful for big targets but it is too slow to hit fighters at close range. One is full auto, so the computer runs everything. Two is semi, so you can override. But it gets confused if multiple targets pass through the targeting grid in different directions and it can end up pulling you against the way you are trying to track. Three just auto-corrects to last target lock slowly if you do nothing. I would switch it off for dogfights or keep it on three. On the other hand, two is good for intercepting incoming missiles. I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but missiles don't evade, they come at you in a straight line. And for something that small - as long as it keeps a straight trajectory long enough - the computer can actually hit it better than by eye."

Samira takes a breath. "Always keep your eye on this central indicator. That's temp; the bottom line on your cannon health. If it gets too hot, it will lock and you can't shoot. So controlled bursts, yeah?"

Finally, she grasps the column by the handles. "Here are the triggers, under both thumbs. It will alternate between barrels. You have to press both down to prevent accidental fire."

Domenico paid attention, mumbling key words about the systems to commit them to memory, and reaching past her to touch the various buttons and switches as she named them. He took the yoke and gently eased it left, right, up, and down, then stabilized it again as he realized that the motion of the turret was pushing their bodies against each other rhythmically.

She looks across, conscious of how close they are in the confined space. "Any questions?"

What is that wildflower scent? Perfume? Natural pheromones?

He touched the targeting grid. "Does this have a simulator mode that I can use to practice?"

"No," said Samira, slapping his hand away from the grid. "And you shouldn't ever shoot while in hyperspace. You can have a practice at some asteroids once we get in-system if you like."

She noticed how he was looking at her and how close they were and suddenly it did not feel right. It did not feel right because she did not completely hate it. And that was confusing. The Twi'lek clambered out of the bubble and waited for him to do the same.

"Look, I've seen you handle the fighter, and... you were pretty good..."

Ooh, that grated on her to admit.

"... so this should be easy for you. You don't have to worry about controlling the ship or velocity or a hundred other things, like evading someone shooting you up the ass. But it gets crazy fast in a dogfight and it will feel like you are stuck in this stationary point and everything is flashing past you. You have to not just react and take pot shots at everything that comes into your field of fire, or you'll hit nothing. You need to pick one target, track it carefully, then take the shot."

"Most of all, you need to talk to the other turrets. Coordinate. Here on the dorsal you can warn when a target is going to come past port or starboard, and those turrets can then get ready. And it works both ways. Bridge can also call out sensor signals incoming before you even see them."

She stepped closer. "So when I said your fighter was in the way, I was just reporting that I would concentrate astern, and to let the other turrets know to focus on threats coming at the bow. I wasn't telling you to move it. Okay?"

Domenico took a moment to power down the turret, trying to affix the various systems and procedures in his mind, and climbed out.

"Ah, I see. We need to work on our communication. Or perhaps I merely need to work on my listening." He turned to her with something between a nod and a slight bow. "Thank you for explaining things to me. Perhaps I can return the favor by showing you the disarming technique with which I took your stilletto...?"

Maybe I need to work on my communication skills, too, Samira wonders.

Stop it! Don't let him in. You know where it will end.

Her face hardens at his next suggestion.

"I know what you did. You caught me off guard. I under-estimated you. That's on me," she could not help then but shoot him a sly smile.

"It won't happen again."

His eyes gleamed and the corner of his mouth twitched upward with as much slyness as hers.

"Care to bet on that?"

Every instinct screamed at her not to, but sometimes Samira just cannot back down.

She swaggered closer to him and lowered her voice. "Sure. You would not stand a chance."

His smile broadened as he leaned a bit toward her. "Technically, I believe I challenged you, so it should be lady's choice for the conditions of the duel. If I may be so bold as to offer a suggestion, daggers might make for a fair match, and an entertaining one... if that meets with the lady's approval...?"

Daggers. Yes she was good with them. But that meant in close work, and he would have the advantage of weight, height and strength.

Samira did have a trick up her sleeve, to use the gambling parlance. Something she had found in the hold that no-one knew about. Something that would surprise him.

"I suggest swords." she said, simply. "In the cargo hold. And your proposed stake from me? If I win, I take your room. You will swap with me."

She had had her eye on that nicely furnished bunk since boarding the Krayt.

Domenico's right eyebrow twitched up in surprise. "It is only fair that I should warn you, Senorita, the sword is my best weapon. I have trained, drilled, and practiced more with my lightfoil than any other weapon. More than all my other weapons combined, pistols, daggers, and starfighters included. Feel free to reconsider."

Samira laughed, her eyes flashing dangerously. She was in too deep now, she would not back down, and she will enjoy the challenge.

"Training, practice and drilling won't get you far, posh boy. This is real life. When you duel a pirate there are no rules, only the code. I have trained for a lifetime in the cauldron of hard knocks, drilled in the pit of having the kriff kicked out of me."

She took a step closer. "And I know tricks you have never seen."

Methinks the lady doth protest too much, thought Domenico, but chose to keep that thought to himself. "As m'lady wishes," he said wryly. "Now, as to stakes, I've told you that I'm new to this... pirate culture. You want my room. What would be a suitable request for my prize? What might I ask you for if I should prove victorious?" He could easily think of some things he wanted from her, but was curious what she might be willing to offer.

Samira laughed again, but a distant alarm of warning flashed at the back of her mind.

"Well, it will not matter as I will win anyway, but I have a bottle of unique aged rum as wager."

"Rum? How very piratical. I suppose I'll need to develop a taste for it now that I'm one of you. Very well, my room against your rum." He sensed a pun with rum and room, but couldn't quite find it, which was probably for the best. "I don't recall duel victory conditions listed in the ship's articles when I made my mark, so how shall the winner be determined? First touch, perhaps? I have no desire for either of us to lose an appendage." His eyes moved briefly to her headtails.

"Aye, we need not fight to the death. First blood drawn wins?"

"First blood it is, Senorita, and let's keep it light enough that we don't have to call on Doctor One-eye. I consider myself to have failed as a duelist when my opponent needs anything more than a bandaid after a first blood match." Domenico was already considering where he might give her a slight scratch and offer to tend it himself. He offered her his hand as he had seen pirates do in the holos. "Do we have an accord, then?"

Samira gazed at the outstretched hand. He had not flinched even once. She remembered how he had disarmed her in the bar. Have I misjudged him, again?

The distant alarm wailed again. But she silenced it viciously. She was determined to see this through. Not just for the room, or the rum, or to avoid the dishonour of retreating from a duel.

She wanted to beat him. To make a point. To wipe that smug smile off his face!

She clasped his hand. "Aye, we have an accord."


TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Zerax , Mongo, Whookie (Combo With @Sarge )
Krayt Cooking

Tiam had finished prepping the last of breakfast for the crew; normally a captain would not partake in this as per the pirate code, but due to certain circumstances, he ignored that guideline for now. The Sanyassan got himself up earlier the others as he always did and checked the nav-computer for their course; Krayt systems were modified but not always sound, a proper pirate always checks their headings for any disturbances. Luckily, they were still sound as hyperspace rings still rolled on. Now he was prepping up a small meal of Polystarch hardtack and blue beans and black melons; the coffee pot was boiling on high on the little burner they had in the kitchen. Tack and beans are all set, fruits been setup for the crew, better find something to quell the more meat hungry crewmates.

Zerax laid down the cooked pot of Naboo beans on the mess table, amongst a small array of black melons and bowl of gorg caviar that he "purchased" from a dealer on Trask. He licked a small finger of the purple and orange frog egg, it still tasted sweet when he sampled it in the fish stalls. "Good, now for the last course" Tiam muttered, he walked back over the mess kitchen with the boiler and fridge unit bolted to the wall; digging into the rusted cooling unit did he pull out a large ruby and blue colored meat slab. "A little salted Opee meat be good vittles, had this baby for a week now and she's finally getting eaten."

Picking up the huge kettle off the burner, Zerax took the can and laid it down on the table next to the crews cups and dishware that nary seen any usage in a while. Better get the spit going and cook this well-done, knowing Samira and Kurodas energy when they were youngins, they're gonna want some heartier food in them. Pulling down a small homemade spit above the burner; Zerax jammed the salted Opee meat through the spit and hung it a few inches over the burner, before cranking up the heat to a blue fire. A small jet ejected from the stove as it started to cook the pork, warm delicious scents started to fill the kitchenette, reminding the captain of better days on the void seas

Mongo filled a mixing bowl with Cocoa Frosted Sugar Bombs, poured on some blue milk, and sat on the floor to eat it. Pausing mid-crunch as he realized the ship's captain was looking at him, he looked up and mumbled through his mouthful of cereal, "What?"

Zerax snapped out of his spaciness to notice his new porcine crewmate pouring himself a bowl of cereal, Frak! He got in that fast, the captain shrugged and smiled. "Nothing, just spaced out that all, feel free to dig into the fine goodies I prepped on the table. As the captain, I have decided to prep a feast for everyone and Lobo; would you like a bit of breakfast steak?"

Mongo stood up from the deck and peered suspiciously at the table settings. He sniffed at the breakfast steak and began to drool saliva mixed with blue milk and cocoa frosting. Dropping the bowl of cereal, he picked up the steak with both hands and tore into it with his tusks. "Mmm, good! Mongo like breakfist steak!" He frowned and turned to his captain, speaking with his mouth full. "Steak not break Mongo's fists?"

No it won't break your fists, the stuff's been tenderized by the fire" Zerax smiled a bit, he was warming up to the newly acquired crewmate. He swiveled the spit with the remainder of the meat, slicing off cooked chunks and laying it onto the plate; the Opee meat started to fill the room with pleasant scents. "How's Lobo been?"

"Lobo is bold renegade! Carves an L with his blade!" Mongo was proud of himself for knowing such a big word as renegade. He was a little fuzzy on exactly what it meant though. "What is renegade?"

The conversation was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Red Krayt's chief engineer. Whookiee burst through the hatch excitedly spewing out words even faster than usual. "SamiraandLoboareabouttofightaswordduelinthecargohold!" Then he spun and vanished up the corridor in a blur of blue fur.

TAG: EVERYONE!

 

IC: Samira & Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba
Flirty Fight #1



Lobo and Samira faced each other across the cargo hold.

“Have you taken a moment to reconsider? Do you think it's wise, crossing blades with a duelist?” Domenico shrugged and shot a knowing look at her. "If you choose to withdraw now, nothing further will be said of this matter." He didn't think for a moment that the fiery-eyed Twi'lek would back down, but his needling would likely make her temper rise. An angry duelist seldom fought with their best level of skill.

Samira barked a laugh, partly to hide her rage, partly to give herself a moment to recover. “You are deluded, posh boy. We duel, and I will cut off your barabels!”

“Splendid,” said Lobo, not rising to the coarseness. She certainly seemed easy to provoke. “But we duel only to first blood, none of One-eye's amputations of any appendages, are we agreed?” He held out a hand.

Again, Samira hesitated. But the human’s smug look provoked something deep in her gut and she clasped his hand for a moment in her own. “Agreed.”

Then she whirled and marched back to her own corner. The engineer, Whookiee, had been spying on this little confrontation from a spot where he had been rummaging for parts amongst the crates in the hold.

Now he dashed to the mess where the captain's delicious breakfast smells were wafting down the corridor.

"SamiraandLoboareabouttofightaswordduelinthecargohold!" he blurted with excitement.

They needed no further encouragement, and together the crew abandoned their breakfasts and ran to see the spectacle.

Domenico saw that Samira intended to duel in her usual barely-decent attire. He removed his jacket, so as not to have any unfair advantage of protective clothing. Shirt and breeches would be reasonably fair, though still not so revealing as her favored minimal garb.

Samira turned to find Lobo ready with his lightfoil, and an expectant crowd waiting to watch; Burg, Mongo, Kuroda, the droids, even little Whookiee.

Lobo awaited her at the other end of an impromptu dueling circle, cleared of cargo crates. He bowed theatrically, then presented his lightfoil. He ignited the weapon and a thin, straight blade of scarlet light extended with a distinctive snap-hiss, then swept up and around into a showy salute.

Samira nodded in return, then brandished her own weapon: A finely-worked hilt and handle. The Twi’lek, too, activated it and a shimmering, curved, black energy blade emerged.



Lobo frowned in surprised recognition. “That’s a Mandalorian darkblade. You sure you know how to handle that? There's a lot more to it than pointy end in the other guy.”

“You just worry about how you are going to handle your defeat!” said Samira, enjoying his surprise. She had found this beautiful weapon amongst the crates earlier on. “This is not just about classical dueling forms; we play by the pirate code now.”

“Aaar!” shouted the audience, gathered around the circle. Kuroda in particular seemed to be cheering for Samira.

“We should have a marshal, or referee,” said Domenico, scanning the watchers. “I propose Burg, if he is willing...?" He bowed to the hulking figure as one does to the master of the dueling field.

Samira glanced at the giant Dowutin. She knew he was fair and honest. “I accept.”

Then they took their positions and each struck a stance. Burg stood between them, raised a mighty fist, then lowered it in a chopping motion, “Begin!” Then he retreated to the edge of the circle.

Domenico's posture snapped from a casual waiting stance to the traditional Pelagian ready pose: body turned ninety degrees to his left, presenting the narrowest possible profile as a target, feet together and posture straight as a blade, lightfoil extended in a direct line toward his opponent at full extension of his arm. The Pelagian style was one of his least favorite techniques, but he often used it as a strong defensive opening. His opponent would not be able to reach him without impaling herself on his point, unless she beat his blade aside first, which he was entirely prepared for.

Immediately, Samira went on the attack. The svelte Twi’lek advanced with a precise, slashing series of diagonal strikes.

As he'd expected, her first cut knocked his point out of line, and as planned, his wrist twisted to circle his blade back into position. He chose not to thrust yet, preferring to fight defensively as he got a sense of her level of skill.

The handsome human retreated tactically before the advance, his crimson blade flashing. Lobo intercepted each and every strike, turning them away. His eyes never broke contact with those of Samira.

Samira paused. The nobleman’s technique was good, and his grip was strong. She realised that she was not going to beat him with pure skill.

Domenico raised his blade in salute during the pause. "Certainly no one can fault your enthusiasm, Senorita. Your cuts have a great deal of authority and are well-suited to your blade. But for myself, I prefer to thrust."

Perhaps sensing her self-doubt, Lobo now went on the attack, stepping forward and executing incisive jabs, first at her stomach, then her flanks. Samira danced backwards, batting away each lunge. The crowd watched, open mouthed.



Finally, Lobo worked an opening, clashing blades then using his superior weight to shove Samira backwards. She stumbled and he took the chance in a flash. The lightfoil flickered out and slashed at her right shoulder, slicing the strap of her brassier.

Samira clenched her teeth but resisted crying out. The heat from the energy blade had scorched her skin and now her clothing was held up by just one strap.

Nearby, Mongo applauded enthusiastically. “Do that again, Master Lobo! Green girl pretty when she's angry!”

Samira ignored the Gamorrean and checked her shoulder. She was relieved to find no blood, just a heat mark. But it stung. She drank in the pain and in a way it was exhilarating. She looked at Lobo, who for some reason had danced back a few steps rather than press his advantage.

"Do you require a moment to repair your garb, Senorita?" he asked courteously as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I am certainly impressed by your... vigor."

He smirked, and the look ignited a fresh wave of emotion inside Samira. How dare he think he can play with me like this!

Now she attacked again, this time with a strength born from anger. Her attacks were wild and aggressive, and it was all Lobo could do to parry and divert. These were not finesse strikes intended to simply draw a little blood. She wanted his head!

Samira smashed aside a defensive block and Lobo stumbled. They were both unbalanced for a moment. With her heavier blade, Samira knew her opponent would recover quickest, despite her efforts. So she resorted to her repertoire of dirty tricks, and aimed a kick right between his legs. And it connected with something soft.

Lobo groaned and crumpled to one knee. Instead of finishing him off, Samira stood and glowered at the human. She scratched absentmindedly at the heatburn on her shoulder. It was itching badly now.

“There! That’s how a pirate fights,” she laughed between heavy breaths. “Now concede and give me my room!”

Lobo grimaced and rose to his feet again. The pain receded in his groin. Luckily, she had not quite caught him in exactly the right spot. But he did not doubt her intent.

“Senorita,” he gasped. “You have a very unhealthy interest in my barabels… now, en garde!”

The dance continued. Lunge and parry, riposte and recovery; they whirled and fought. The onlookers were treated to a display of skill and breathless exertion.

Lobo slid in close to Samira, their blades locked together and he raised his lightfoil, pushing her darkblade upwards. In an unconventional move, the human grabbed Samira’s other wrist with his free hand and twisted it behind her back, pulling her in close. Suddenly they were in an embrace, the blades locked together above their heads.

That enticing wildflower scent filled Domenico's nostrils. He was vividly aware of how close her full soft lips were to his. Resisting the impulse to kiss her, he turned his head just a bit, his nose brushing against hers teasingly, just for a moment. Her eyes burned into his, daring him to do his worst. He suddenly shifted his grip, releasing her hand and seizing her sword hilt, freeing his own blade. He whipped the lightfoil around behind her, spanking her playfully, careful to use just enough power to sting a bit, but not so much as to draw blood.

Before she could react, Lobo leaned in and planted a full kiss on her lips. Then he let go of her and twisted away. Samira was left standing, trembling with a new mixture of fury and excitement.

"Shall we hold for a moment and examine you to see if your posterior is wounded, Senorita Samira?" Domenico paused as he panted for air. "That would be the courteous thing for a gentleman to do for a lady."

Lobo bowed again, the mischievous smile spreading wide and his eyes sparkling. Samira, despite every fibre of her body burning with anger, could not help but let a little smile cross her own lips. The rogue had surprised her with that kiss. And it was not all bad. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

“I’ve never seen a move like that before,” Kuroda whispered a little too loudly to Whookiee. Samira detected a note of admiration in his tone.

“Clearly you have never been to Nar Shaddaa!” retorted Lobo. Then he returned his gaze to Samira. “Ready to yield, m'lady?”

“Never!” said Samira. She erupted again into a whirlwind of powerful, wild slashes, forcing Lobo once more to retreat. They were both sweating and tired now, and mistakes were creeping into their swordplay and footwork.

Lobo stumbled again before the onslaught, and Samira sprang. With a cry of triumph, she smashed away his weapon. The lightfoil de-activated as soon as it left Lobo’s grip, and the metal hilt went skidding across the floor.

He looked up at Samira with a slight smile and held up his hands, but Samira was taking no chances anymore. She wanted so badly to just win. She flicked her blade out and scored a thin line across his cheek. In the end, it was a carefully placed cut. A small trickle of blood. She had not wanted to kill him, after all.

Now she stood and smiled, basking in her triumph, panting with the exertion. “There, first blood. I win!”

Kuroda began to clap, but Lobo held up a hand and shook his head.

“I am afraid not, Senorita,” then he pointed to her shoulder. “Look, you are already bleeding.”

Samira looked at her shoulder and her heart was gripped with sudden horror. Drops of blood were seeping from the burn. “No, wait, I must have just scratched it…”

“No, it started during the third phrase of the duel,” said Lobo. “That is the wound I scored, and that is blood. My blade is over there, is it not? So, it must have happened before you cut me just now.”

“Tha… that’s not right!” spluttered Samira. Her moment of triumph was turning into despair.

Burg lumbered over. He examined Samira’s cut and then Lobo’s lightfoil. They both awaited his verdict. The massive warrior turned to Samira.

“Sorry, Sami. First blood goes to Lobo.”

Mongo cheered happily, then looked sad for Samira, then cheered again for Lobo, while Kuroda looked distraught. Samira opened and closed her mouth. Lobo struggled to his feet and gave her a naughty smile.

“I look forward to receiving my properly aged bottle of rum, in my room." He resisted the urge to call it his boudoir. "And of course, you are cordially invited to join me for a taste, Senorita.”

“No, I don’t accept… it’s not fair… I won’t!” Samira stammered.

Burg shook his head. “Got to, Sami. It’s the rules. Don’t make us make you.”

Bristling with impotent indignation, she glowered at Lobo and demanded, "When did you notice?" while pointing to her shoulder.

"Before you kicked me," he shrugged, mock-apologetically. His eyes burned from the effort required to look her in the eyes and not ogle her boombahs, which were even more exposed than usual.

"And you kept on fighting?"

"We were having so much fun, don't you think?"

Samira stamped a foot and stifled a scream of frustration. Then she turned and stormed out of the cargo hold while the crew crowded Lobo and offered congratulations...


TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Samira, Zerax, Kuroda, and Gildy
Samira's Room

Later that day, somebody tapped politely on the hatch to Samira's quarters. "Mistress Samira? Laundry is done. I have your things." It sounded like Gildy, the utility/protocol droid.

Samira frowned. I don't remember putting anything in the laundry? She swung down from the hammock and padded over to the door. The Twi'lek hit the release on the extra lock mechanism she had installed, and the door swooshed open.

Gildy was holding a laundry basket full of linens. She curtsied as the hatch opened and stepped forward. "Here you are, Missy. Nice and clean silk sheets, and a down comforter as well. The gentleman across the corridor found them in a cabinet and didn't want them, so he said you may as well have them." She lifted a neatly folded pastel green silken sheet. "He thinks these would clash with the colors of his decor. Ooh, but this color suits you to a tee!" The droid held the sheet up next to Samira's face. "Look how it brings out the color of your skin! You'd look vibrant in this. There's enough here I could stitch you up a dress or a gown, wouldn't that me lovely, Miss? Please, let me put my seamstress subroutines to good use!"

"No," Samira snapped at Gildy.

She scowled at the closed portal across the corridor. A part of her wanted to march across and hammer on the door to demand an explanation. But she had the suspicion he was waiting in his room, expecting her to do exactly that. So instead she looked again at the items.

"I'll take, and that..." Samira said, picking out the comforter and silk sheets. She left one green sheet behind for Gildy. "Make a cape and Lobo mask for Mongo out of that. He'll love it."

Then she prowled off to the bridge. Inside the cockpit she found Kuroda on duty. Suddenly feeling awkward, she nodded.

"My watch," she said, simply. Though she was a little early. She opened her mouth again. "Look, Kuroda, I..."

She was interrupted as Captain Zerax entered, the door swooshing behind her.

"Oh," said Samira, surprised. "Cap'n! Surely we are nearly there now? What's the plan on arrival in system? Do we do a reccy or go straight to landing protocols?"

"You'll be in luck, our destination is going to closing in on us for landing protocol" Zerax said, his first mate nudged him to get some room in the door way. "Though we might need some of your power in sneaking in as..."

"The digital logbook has mentioned of tricked out entrance, Cap'n was wondering if we could scout the entrance for any traps," Kuroda added.

Zerax looked at the Quay with a bemused expression. "Aye, what he said, are you up for a little scouting before we all pillage the vault?"

Samira looked between Zerax and Kuroda, suspicious that a kindness had just passed in the room.

She shrugged. "Sure. Like old times, eh, Kuroda?"

"Yeah, we get the first look at the treasure spot!" Kuroda chuckled, his captain nudged him in response and looked at him. As if the boy knew a previous conversation, he made a farewell gesture towards Samira, before tucking back out the room entrance.

Zerax turned his head to meet Samira at an equal gaze. "I know it was your watch duty before, but the boy offered to take over while you recovered. How you faring after that duel with Lobo?"

Samira exhaled. Despite his rather... vague and manic demeanour, Zerax could be quite perceptive sometimes. And it was his duty to keep an eye on his crew.

How to answer? The cut to her shoulder was a normal and expected result of the duel. It had already healed. The stolen kiss... she had mixed feelings about, honestly. The way he had slapped her behind, in front of everyone; she was not happy about it. But perhaps, just perhaps, she had deserved it after kicking him in the special place.

Most of all, she was just annoyed that she had lost. She had wanted so badly to win that fight. Not just for the room. She needed to prove a point. But instead, he had proved his.

Samira looked at Zerax. "You win some, you lose some. I'll get over it. One thing we did learn, though; he really can fight."

Seemed like she had recovered from that bout well, Zerax was ready for the worst but it seemed like Samira had taken this loss with some humbleness. "Yeah that Lobo can fight, haven't seen swordplay like that since my own cabin boy years, but that means we have another strong swordsman on the team" Zerax said, he then dug his hands into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, compact datapad. "I had Kuroda refit a copy of the vault logbook for the venture, take this when you and him go down for scouting; there are some clues left by the logs creator that may be of some use in our hunt."

TAG: @Sarge , @T4M1-7 (And any other scallywag we meet along our journeys)

 

IC: Zerax, Kuroda (Partially)
Arrival upon the Geonosis Sector

The blue rings dissipated from the cockpit windows of the pirate vessel, revealing a new void of space to be seen by the new eyes, a large dustied planetoid loomed ahead with a dozen other shorter moons of various colors. Zerax gazed over the sight as his first mate began to fiddle around with the system computer pads, using a A-121 Plotter to map out the nest hyperspace jump they'll need for an escape and measuring out the recharge time required on a separate screen. "How many kliks are we from Savo-4, Kuroda?" Zerax stared out at the vastness of space. "We have reached the territory of Seps, my boy."

Kuroda grunted a bit as he swiveled his head towards the nav-computer screen, his left hand scrawled a code by keypad, a small textbox popped up with a given number stretch. "5 minutes if we go full throttle on our sails. the moon is not that far from us but it'll be some difficulty getting to port on the vaults location," Kuroda said, his eyes then gazed over the charge time for hyperspace recharge.

"Just land as close as we can for a scouting party, can't risk us being shot at" Zerax replied.

"You think there might be some bugs left on that rock, cap'n?" Kuroda piqued in kind.

"No, not really" Zerax answered, without moving his head or body from the helm. "I'm just worried what dangers that ol'Greivous or Dooku left behind since the war, that logbook does not read anything safe and I can't risk you or the crew dying on my watch, savvy?"

"Then I'll signal the crew, we'll prep for landing in a good minutes or so" Kuroda chuckled nervously, a bit fearful of what was to be found on their target. He pressed the ships comm-units and muttered in a call for everyone's presence to the cockpit; even the droids were not exempt as they were crewmates as well.

TAG: @Sarge , @T4M1-7

 

IC: Samira


Samira leaned by the doorway into the cockpit, watching as they approached Geonosis. The red dusty orb gazed back at them like a diseased eye, daring them to come discover its secrets.

The Twi'lek listened as Kuroda made his calculations. That one was turning into a good co-pilot and useful pirate. Somehow she was not sure she was so happy about that. The whole necklace thing was still confusing. Samira pushed aside the conflicting thoughts and emotions. Now they were getting to the business end of a voyage, she needed to be sharp. She checked her pistol and stiletto vibro-blade were in their proper places and charged.

Samira had decided against bringing the darkblade.

It seemed like the captain had found a good safe spot to land, and she hoped it would not be too long a trek before they got to the vault they were scouting. A glance at the external sensors at least reassured her that they would not need spacesuits. Geonosians breathed the same air, then.

Zerax signalled the crew and Samira straightened. The strange events of this little journey had in some ways turned her world upside down. But now she needed to do her job.

@Sgt.Matt @Sarge

 

OOC: Weird, I was working on my post right when Tami posted hers.

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba
In the Good Quarters

Domenico was almost finished shaving. All that was left was a thin strip on his left cheek, where the slice of the dark blade was still half-healed. He had considered not shaving until it was fully healed, but, pirate or not, he was still a gentleman and had certain standards of behavior and appearance. Showing himself in public with a scruffy face was unacceptable. So he manipulated his razor with great delicacy, being extremely careful to shave the stubble without reopening the cut.

"All hands report to the bridge. I repeat, all hands to the bridge." Kuroda's voice blasted from a speaker right next to the mirror, taking Domenico by surprise. His hand jerked and blood trickled down his cheek.

"Son of a barve!"

He arrived on the bridge neatly dressed and with a fresh bandaid on his cheek. Noticing that Samira was still standing, he nodded to her politely and spoke in a low voice.

"Still not wanting to sit down, I see? I feel I owe you an apology for that spanking. It really was a cheap shot, and I do feel bad that you have been unable to sit comfortably all this time. If I had realized it would be that painful, I would have refrained. Forgive me, Senorita."


TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Samira


Samira stared daggers at Lobo as he entered the bridge and made his quip. Okay, time to put an end to this.

She stepped closer and flipped out her stiletto dagger. Then she hissed in a low voice.

"You beat me in a duel. You're good, I'll give you that. But all that skill is worth nothing if you get shanked in your sleep, right? So how about you stop thinking about my butt and get your mind on the mission? This could get dangerous and we don't want useless passengers. Oh, and nice scar."

She replaced her dagger in its sheath at her hip, stepped away, then listened to the captain's briefing...

 

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba
The M That Stands For Mongo


So, her butt is apparently still a 'sore' point, thought Domenico. Before he could dig himself further into his hole by giving voice to that thought, they were all distracted by a thumping sound rushing down the corridor toward the bridge.

It sounded like somebody big and heavy running full sprint, until there was a momentary pause. Then Mongo came leaping through the hatch, wearing a pastel green mask, with a matching cape fluttering behind him. He landed with a thump that threatened to dent the deck and turned proudly toward the others.

"TAA-DAAAA!!!"


TAG: @Sgt.Matt @T4M1-7

 

IC: Kuroda, Zerax (Minor Moment)

Kuroda jerked his head at the quick shaking of the floor; Mongo had now altered his appearance to now look like Lobo albeit with a greener getup, he blinked for a few seconds before raising two thumbs up. "Aye You're now worthy of Lobo's power" The Quay guffawed. "Maybe you and him can team-up with us for the scouting mission, there's probably some buggy natives bounding around the Sep moon! Hah!"

"Indeed he does, okay everyone, its time for brass nails" Zerax interjected the Quays further comments and into the fray. Adjusting his the long brimmed hat on his crusted raw scalp; he let out a small sigh before finally relaying his little plan of motion. "Before we land onto the moon, I am going to need a few scouts to look ahead for any dangers that may loom ahead. Kuroda and Samira, you two will go ahead alongside Lobo and Mongo, they will be your extra muscle for anything at the vaults front door."

"Front door?" Kuroda piqued.

"Figure of speech, lad" Zerax sighed. "However, I am assigning you four to go first, since you all demonstrated great strengths back on Trask. Think of it as a bonding exercise, savy?"

TAG: @Sarge , @T4M1-7

 

IC: Zerax, Kuroda, Samira, Lobo, Mongo, and Tready (Group Combo)
The Arrival

The five minute estimated on the plotter was a bit off-course, Kuroda never anticipated the slight beep on his nav-computer as the ship passed a tan-green moon left of the ships course. "Cap'n? Samira? We may have a slight issue on the computer" Kuroda said, nervously. "Something on the reading went from five to zero, and its pointing at that moon we're closing in on."

"And?" Zerax piqued.

"Welllllllll....you guys might wanna see this? We have some minor blips popping up" Kuroda responded. "Multiple unmoving ones."

Zerax opened his mouth to respond but his attention was now taken aback by the sight of several wrecks floating in the moons orbit. Old Headhunters, Poraxes, and Freighters of all creeds littered the moons space lanes with no signs of visible movement. A veritable boneyard of fallen pilots or crew captains whom now float the endless starry seas.



Samira watched, hawklike, from her seat at the rear of the cockpit. It was tight here at the back, with huge Mongo squeezed in next to her. She leaned forward as Kuroda noticed something on his scanners, then looked out to the sea of darkness.

"Oh, wonderful..." she hissed as they drifted into the starship graveyard. "Like a warning to other pirates."

She thought about it a moment. "Any sign of blaster damage on those old ships? Could be automated defences. Perhaps we should put up shields."

Domenico tried to suppress a shiver. He had never been superstitious, but the eeriness of the orbital graves was getting to him. It was all too dark, too still, too silent. "These look they've been here quite a while. Surely they've all been picked over already. There won't be much of value here. We should move past them and get down to the surface."

"Doubt it much" Zerax answered Samira's ponderance. "The moon had zero orbital defenses, not even ships posted around the place. My biggest guess is that these poor sods were trying to get onto the planet from Imps, the Empire's been big on hiding their CIS 'reform territories' since the end of the Clone Wars."

Kuroda glanced over the wrecked ships outside with a quizzical look, Samira and the Captain had their points; they could be running into a blasting trap in the moons orbit. But on the other hand, the Captain's muttering on the Imps had some truth given that they have seen former CIS privateers get sacked years back; the Skakoan buccaneers being blown skyhigh by wandering destroyer frigates wracked his memories. Lobo's interjection even got to the youth's survival instinct. "Cap'n, we should move to land fast! This doesn't look friendly."

"Then I'll take us abroad on the helm" Zerax immediately rushed to the steering helm, hands activating the different increasing ignition switches and adjusting the thrust power. "Samira! Take Kuroda and Lobo and Mongo down to the entrance; arm yourselves for a scouting mission!"


"Aye, Cap'n!" said Samira. Then she nodded severely to Lobo. "Come on, it's showtime."

Kuroda and Mongo - still wearing his ridiculous cape - were raring to go, so Samira lead them down to the exit portal.

At the circular hatch, the Twi'lek checked once more her pistol and vibro-dagger charge then replaced them in their holsters at her hips. She engaged the primary control of the portal and the red light blinked on, ready to open.

Samira clicked the commlink mounted on the wall next to the portal, which gave a direct line to the bridge. "Ready when you are, Cap'n."

Domenico followed the others slowly as he double-checked all his varied weaponry and their power cells: lightfoil and dueling pistols on his belt, energy buckler on his left wrist, vibro-dagger in his right boot. Tready whirred down the corridor toward him, holding an elegant electromagnetic slug-throwing hunting rifle with an optical scope.



"Master Domenico, I found this in the cargo hold. It seems very similar to the rifle you used in the Vor-cal Safari on Vilhon, and may be useful if this wilderness hosts predators."

"Lobo!" hissed Domenico, hoping no one had overheard his droid. "Don't call me Dom-. Call me Lobo." Maybe he'd have to wipe Tready's memory after all.

It didn't take Kuroda long to pick up his gear, luckily his room had them hanging up where they always did in the case of emergencies. Hanging on a bandolier across his robed chest was a small array of Imperial fragmentation grenades, most pirates never considered them real grenades as they were more "bunker-busters" in terms of explosive power; its force was enough to cripple a Zeta-shuttle with one implosion. Captain drilled into the Quay that he should use the grenades in land-based combat, flight or speeder fighting would end up killing the crew by accident, Kuroda always kept the drilled warnings though some of it was drowned out by rum binging. Aside from the grenades, there was his rope-looped Deck Sweeper Stun Blaster; a verifiable hazard to most fleshbags trying to take the Krayt by force. Attained from the dead hands of a Espo-owned privateer, Captain Pellius Grann, the Quay made use of the heavy stun blaster for future fights as overshooting could lead to some foes dying of excess stun.

Then again, years ago he did accidentally stun both the Captain and the head cook by accident, who new that the blaster could get a stuck trigger. But that was mended with a decrease in grog ration and some raiding of a Hutt arms convoy.

Turning towards Samira and Mongo, Kuroda cleared his throat to alleviate any jitters as the ship began to rumble from entering planetary atmosphere. "So what are ye all packing for our scouting plan? I got me bombs and gun" The Quay queried cheerfully.

Samira nodded appreciatively towards Kuroda's arsenal. Hopefully enough to breach any stubborn blast doors.

She swayed her hips, showing her own meagre offerings. A pistol and a dagger. But then Samira's contributions were about slinking, sneaking, spotting; skills of infiltration rather than utilising hardware.

She offered a sly grin to Lobo and Mongo. The anticipation before these moments had become a time for her to relish.

"Let's go shopping..."

Domenico rolled his eyes at the Twi'lek lady's avariciousness, but he couldn't help grinning back.

Mongo looked worried. "Shopping? Mongo have no money." He checked a belt pouch, forgetting to hold onto his halberd, leaving it standing on end for a moment before it tilted and fell toward Domenico. The duelist caught the weapon by the shaft and glared at the Gammorrean.

"Watch it, Mongo! You're going to hurt one of us if you're not careful with this thing."

"Oopsy! Sorry." Mongo took the polearm back and adjusted his cape, making sure something else on his hip was hidden. He wanted to save that for a surprise.

"Don't you worry, Mongo, just keep your blade ready and we'll be doing fine" Kuroda said, only to then cling to wall-railings of the ship as the inside vibrated from outside pressures. The floor underneath his boots felt like the dozens of hands bopping against it, Red Krayt was a tough girl in various planetary atmospheres or climate conditions. "Hope we land fast, Samira, this planets winds are stro-ACK!"

Krayt slammed onto a hardened surface, as if a large hand came above and pushed them onto the vaults dock harder than the force itself. The Quay youth clung to the railings as he slipped to the floor, releasing a string of Jedha curses that could make any Whills priest blush. As if to answer the slammed entry, the entrance door opened up to the four and slowly descended the metal ramp into what looked like a bright, yet overgrown jungle clearing.

Mongo thumped down the ramp, halberd at the ready. If any predators charged out of the jungle, he was determined to place himself between attackers and his smaller companions. He knew his role in life was to be a defensive wall. That was his job. He was good at that. And not much else. He knew that too.

Domenico paused at the top of the ramp, scanning the area while he held the high ground. It seemed most of the local wildlife had been frightened away by their arrival. But how long would that last? He raised the rifle and focused the scope on the horizon. Nothing of interest there, but the field of view was very limited. Lowering the rifle, he trailed the others, staying alert.

Samira sashayed down the disembarkation ramp behind Mongo. The enthusiasm would be amusing, but the truth was the Gamorrean was a big creature and mighty warrior and having someone beside you who is ready to defend you without hesitation or question is a rare thing for a pirate to find.

Lobo practiced sighting the rifle around the jungle, while Kuroda recovered from the brutal landing (and finished cursing).

Samira checked their surroundings and took a deep breath. It was always a pleasure taking a first breath on a planet after being cooped up in a transport after a long hyperspace jump. And this was no different; the humid, almost soupy jungle air was fragrant and fresh. The Twi'lek made the same conclusion as Lobo's initial survey; there were no immediate threats.

She looked for signs of the objective, but in truth the almost crash-landing had interrupted her sense of direction. Kuroda had the plans, in any case.

"Which way and how far, Kuroda?" she called to the Quay youth.

"Ugh...Oh the way, we should be close by the upper yard before the vaults courtyard" Kuroda replied, gathering himself up from the ramp floor, gathering his bearings to meet the others outside. He slung the deck sweeper onto his side, drawing out the pocket-datapad they were given with the downloaded datalog information; the warm jungle air hit his nostrils as surveyed the environment. The once mechanical loading dock was covered in moss and lichens, golden hue was now coated in a fine coat of greenery as jungle overtook its former occupants wares. Said jungle ahead was plentiful in terms of trees but the looming presence of several brass honeycomb structures poking the skies. "Looks like we might have a smooth trek in this green finery" Quay said as he turned on the pad and slicked up the screens info-page, its battered glass cover flickering with every waking moment.

"Care to lead the way my dear?" Kuroda grinned, he gestured the path towards to Samira, knowing that she was the better scout leader when it came to the duos past missions. The Quay trusted her judgement along with the captains.

TAG: @Sarge , and @T4M1-7

 

IC: Samira


Samira returned a wry smile to Kuroda's affectionate address. Her hand went up to touch where she wore his gifted necklace. Yeah, we still need to talk about that, she realised. But not right now.

The Twi'lek approached the overgrown path indicated by the Quay, unholstered her pistol, then pushed past the fronds. A few moments later she appeared again. "Looks okay."

She lead them down the pathway, slinking past tanglevines and ducking brain-stingers. Around them the jungle was a chorus of chirps, buzzes and distant hoots.

The pathway widened and Samira held out a hand to stop them. "This track is being used by animals," she indicated the tracks. "That means it might attract predators."

She accompanied this ominous announcement with a final check on the charge of her pistol. By her judgement they were not that far from the objective now, but a darkened glade lay beyond.

They passed into the dappled shadows and Samira noticed the animal chorus had silenced. An instinct tickled the back of her neck like a cold breeze. She looked up.

"Oh kriff! Scatter!"

She pushed Kuroda one way while diving the other. A fully grown male Nexu leapt down at the group from the branches above...



@Sarge @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Domenico "Lobo" Barnaba
Welcome to the Jungle

Domenico was glad of his Karlini silk clothing; it wicked away the sweat that oozed from his skin in the hot humid air. And the silly hat with its wide brim made it easier to ignore the insects buzzing around his head. He glanced at the under clothed Twi'lek scouting the way, wondering if she ever dressed appropriately. But then he noticed how her verdant skin tones blended into the foliage. Maybe she did know what she was doing.

"This track is being used by animals. That means it might attract predators."

He'd had her pegged as a city girl, clearly a few steps up from sewer rats, but not a wilderness ranger. Not that he was any kind of jungle survival expert himself, although he'd been on a few hunting safaris, enough to feel comfortable in this setting, if not particularly anxious to settle in here any longer than-

"Oh kriff! Scatter!"

His rifle was pointed the wrong way. By the time he turned it to aim at the nexu, it had landed on the soft ground and pivoted. He aimed awkwardly, cursing the long-range scope that was just getting in the way of this point-blank shot. As he squeezed the trigger, the nexu leaped out of his sights and his bullet ripped through the leaves behind the creature.

Mongo's reactions were slower, but he made up for that in enthusiasm and power. He bellowed his war cry, "MONGOOO!!!" as he charged forward to put himself between the others and their attacker. The Gammorrean wildly swung his halberd, missing the beast by a parsec, still roaring loud enough to drown out the predator's snarls.

The nexu leaped toward Mongo's throat, simultaneously swinging its forked tail forward and low to sweep Mongo's feet out from under him. He landed on his back with the nexu on his belly. Somehow he managed to get the haft of his halberd between their faces and jammed it sideways into its teeth.




TAG: @T4M1-7 @Sgt.Matt