Unidentified Planet, Unknown Regions - 57ABY

"Sterling, Ackermann! You're up on grid K-16!"

The announcement roused the two engineers, bleary-eyed and barely rested from the last shift. Neither of them complained though, eager enough for the work even if it came at a moment's notice and usually in some shithole that would have been better to send droids into. That was almost exclusively what they were treated to on what the New Republic designated as Resource Extraction Candidate X-45574. A most glorious and inspiring name for the hundreds of people who had volunteered to settle this inhospitable rock for reasons that were as varied as mind-numbing. Simon Sterling didn't blame them too much, the brutality of the Galactic Civil War and all that followed had tempted him to take up the offer as well. Gray speckled his short dark hair, this time not from plasma-cutter debris and he had started to resolve himself to taking a treatment to it, but either laziness or the idea of being seen as "experienced" killed that thought.

Joey was getting the speeder ready, a much younger man who had been born after all that chaos was just embers. He was younger than most out here, many of their fellow engineers people who had signed up because they were tired of the known galaxy and all that it entailed. Everywhere he looked, Simon could see the same faces and moods. At least here, with all the misery they had escaped the hell they knew.

"Hey Simon."

"Joey, remember the vane and to put the shields on a discharge cycle. Monitor hasn't notified of a change in weather over K-16 since this morning, so we need to pack the enviro-gear."

"Yeah, I got the suits stored away in the boot and made sure to set the deflectors to single-pass refractive. We should be good as long as we avoid the hotspots."

"Whose turn was it to fly anyways? Was it you or me that did the run on G-38?"

"No idea, been a bit of a rough shift since our last outing. I can fly if you want though."

"... I think I'll just fly us this time, no need to take any chances. K-16 is always a bit moody and you don't have your advanced cert yet."

"Fair enough, let's strap in and go."

---

For hours there had just been the sound of environmental suits pumping oxygen through the hardened tubes, ensuring that both men could still breathe despite the toxic miasma below and the ravaging storm above. Electromagnetic disturbances screeched and careened off the charred pillars that burst from the ground for the couple hundred square kilometers that was Grid Section K-16. Some of the others theorized them to be some kind of Pre-Republic ruins of some kind, though the last one that had been able to actually get close enough to one without getting ripped apart had commented on the strangely organic nature of them. Simon and Joey were not archeologists though, nor were they biochemists. Whatever theory there was about the tangled morass that was K-16's scorched pillars and bridges, it didn't matter to them.

No, what they were there for was the recently revealed glint of metal within the grid. Wrecked starships were the most coveted prize of all in the Unknown Regions, as unlike within the greater galaxy, there was no guarantee it could just be some random ship. Here there was still wonder, mystery and… The Unknown. That pitch had been given so many times to the engineers, that it even came to them in their dreams, was a bit of a joke muttered at the canteen and had truly lost most of its meaning. Yes, the Initiative was vital in many ways, but only the New Republic pretended to see it as anything other than what it was. It was a desperate ploy to get the citizens of the galaxy distracted from the underlying issues, away from the still smoking ruins of the Galactic Civil War and to give the Remnants something to generate charity with. No one understood that better than these two, particularly as Joey's father was Pentastar admiralty and Simon fought with the Alliance during those turbulent years.

Yet both of them had resolved themselves to this task despite it all. Despite the powderkeg that was still their home, and the utter futility of their task itself.

"Got a lock on the abnormality."

Abnormalities was what the Monitors liked to call things like this. Anything and everything that stuck out from the natural order of things, looked manufactured or just looked interesting. Most of the time it was just something inane, a striation of rock that had been disturbed by seismic movements, or places like K-16 itself. The whole grid section and some parts of the surrounding sectors was considered an abnormality, mostly because it was the only part of the planet where the pillars were. Elsewhere was just nothing. REC X-45574 had been utterly unremarkable save for this one region, and if it wasn't for the discovery of a possible starship wreck, Simon figured they might have been packing up soon.

"Taking us in slow and steady, get the stablights ready."

They approached through a particularly dense area of pillars, the lights flaring up and illuminating them. Striations of the scorched surface material made dancing shadows, a strangely natural pattern to the ridges and valleys. Simon carefully guided the speeder underneath one larger than a freighter, a groan sounding as the mass shifted with the wind and nearly made both of the engineers jump out of their skin. Few enough actually were still on the list for K-16, only volunteers now willing to head into the mess that it was. This was why. There was no reason for it all, no method, not even madness. Just chaos. Everyone had seen battlefields and the disasters they had left behind, but this was something else entirely.

Closer and closer the pair came until finally, coming around the side of one of the pillars their lights hit the abnormality. Shattered and broken into three pieces was the wreck of a starship just as they assumed, the pillars winding around it and looking as if they had yanked it out of the sky. It was close enough to the ground that they could see wreckage strewn below, likely the personal belongings of whoever had been unlucky enough to have been on board.

There they settled the speeder down, the electrostatic vane extending so as to direct any errant disturbances towards the speeder and away from where the engineers were working. It was their job to investigate first, ensure the scene was safe, and once it was determined so the other experts would come to do what they did best. All around them were the lives of people they had never known, nor ever would. Clothes lay scorched in the sand, a couple medkits buried partially here and there, some weapons discarded or perhaps thrown from the crash. Chaos, just like the rest of K-16.

"Well, unfortunately looks like it's Republic or Imperial, can't be too sure until we get to the datacore since it has no markings."

"Kind of an older one though, right Simon?"

"Yeah, if I'm not mistaken… Some kind of modified CR90 from the looks of it. These old girls could run forever, I'll tell you what."

A bit of chatter went back and forth between the younger man and the older one, the former never minding the way the latter seemed to like talking about the old days. For all it was back then there had been heroes, as he was fond of saying. Steadily they climbed through and into the crushed hallways of what looked to be the main deck, seeing yet more devastation but not what they had expected. Outside was what they expected, strewn belongings and discarded supplies as what they assumed to be survivors shed weight to look for civilization. Inside… Inside it was a battlefield. Blaster marks littered the walls, their directionalization looking as if repelling boarders, but neither of them were experts on such things. Long thin gouges ran the length of the corridor, stopping and starting in places only to continue until they reached the main living space and near the computer core. Multiple barricades had been set up long ago, defensive positions without any sign of the defenders and only dimpled marks in the deck plating to show where grenades had gone off.

"Fuck Simon, this ship…"

"Yeah, starting to get a bit of a bad feeling. I'm going to pull the black box records and see if we can at least get an ID on the ship. Watch my back."

Neither felt as confident as they had before, what had started as just a simple "look and book" as most called a run into K-16 had complicated in ways that they just knew would mean yet more months on the dustball. As Simon worked at the datacore, wires trailing from his handheld terminal and fingers working at the keypad, his partner kept a steady lookout on both the corridor to the bridge and where they had come from. Something here was seriously spooky and the younger man in particular wasn't too keen on finding out what it might be. He stepped lightly, the sound of his rebreather rapid and showing the growing panic. All around him was the scene of a battle, except for one thing. There wasn't a single body. Sure there were scorch marks, a few smears of old blood on the floors and walls here and there, but shouldn't there have been bodies?

"Got it!"

A moment of silence passed as Simon stared at the information displayed on his datapad, face paling at the name in bold and the most recent crew listing.

"Well?"

"It's… Fuck me, it's the Noreaster. The Noreaster."

"What is that? Some kind of special ship?"

Sometimes he forgot about how the remnants often operated the same as their Imperial predecessor. To him, he had grown up alongside the Rebellion, fought with them and watched legends like this rise to prominence. For Simon, who had once crossed paths with her crew, this ship was more than special.

"No, she's a legend among the Outer Rim. Surely you've heard of the Gray Mariners and their captain?"

"Well yeah, everyone has. They were some kind of special ops group with the Rebellion, weren't they?"

"Ha, anything but. That's just what Pentastar and Hand want you to think. These people, they were like us kid. Outer Rim through and through. Sure, maybe not all of them started in the 'Rim, but it was their home. They did what back then, we all dreamed of. Rising up from nothing, from being just a bounty hunter, just a smuggler, just getting by. Each of them had come together on this ship and one day resolved to be more."

"They sound like the real deal."

"You're damn right they were. Never before had such a crew come together, and somehow become more than just that. These people, they didn't care who you were or what you did. If you were able to contribute and were willing to be part of the crew, they welcomed you. No matter what. Shit, some of them had been wanted by the Empire dead for millions of credits. Yet still, rumor says they had the sack to actually turn in bounties to them and demand their fair pay."

"Rumor also says they killed krayt dragons, held their own with Vader and stole a Star Destroyer."

"Yeah, well maybe some of their deeds have been exaggerated over the years, but there's one thing they did that you should know quite well. They're the ones that killed Viron Jek."

"Wait, holy shit. That was them? They stopped the Dread-Tide?"

"Details are a bit fuzzy, but everything I've heard says they stormed the bastard's ship and killed everyone in their way, sabotaged it and hacked the turbolasers to rip apart his own fleet. Then, just to ice the damn cake, they airlocked that big bastard."

"If they did all that, and were so great, what happened to them?"

Simon went silent, this part of the story had more rumors and myth to it than any other. In truth no one knew what happened, just that one year the Gray Mariners disappeared from the Galaxy.

"All of that fighting and struggling wears on someone kid. They had earned their place in the annals of legend, fought and lost many along the way in order to be counted among the greatest heroes of the galaxy. Yet... Some losses are too great. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to keep a family together, and when they're gone there's nothing left. Even legends need someone to bring them together, and some people say that without her they just couldn't continue as if nothing had changed."

---

Anchorage, The Outer Rim - Current Day
First Port - Last Resort Cantina

"Viron Jek? Sounds like a fucking loser."

Glass met durasteel and the woman speaking gave a wry grin at the others gathered around her. Rumors had been circulating for the last week of potential competition for the great game, of who looked set to be top of the pack and who would be eliminated first. Solace truthfully cared little as to what the brokers thought of the game and which way the bets were swinging, though she had given her word that she wouldn't do anything to "endanger the Noreaster's standings". Their own broker's insistence that one, looking to score a little extra for either himself or the ship's coffers by betting both for and against the company. Anywhere else, it might have been considered illegal, but here most things were and only a few things were against the rules. The lack of a blaster at her hip showed her adherence to the first and foremost of them, keeping compliant with the Harbormaster's desire to keep people from killing each other on the iceworld.

A good brawl was a different story, and she had just been treated to a couple fine ones, giving a wave towards the formerly charming smuggler who now looked far less so. It was an eventuality in these places, and she enjoyed a good fight here and there, especially when she was encouraged not to start any or get into any. Precious little other fun could be had, as not many appealed to her standards, and the drink was about as harsh and foul as it usually was. Truly, the only reason her and the crew came to First Port was to see who might be in need, set up an interview and onboard some fresh blood. With the imminent festival and competition, there was a relative glut of independents searching for a crew to make their name with. Her cybernetic eyes gave a soft whirr as they focused in on one in particular, her reticence to use her other gifts here forcing her to rely on more mundane means. On second thought that one was a bit too much of a liability, she moved on to scanning other prospects as the prior one got involved in a fight with a KX droid.

The crunch of bone and an incredibly manly scream over the pounding music explained exactly how well that particular choice went. She brushed aside a bit of her short auburn hair, the color dark in the dim light of the cantina and only occasionally going a vibrant shade as the flashing lights hit it.

"Seriously though, I've got my doubts on this one."

A contact of hers sat beside her, a rather squirrely looking rodian that had looked terrified the moment she thought to voice her thoughts on what he identified to be major competition to their outfit. He had explained a few of the details, and she recognized the last name well enough to know what he was about. The Jeks were a long-standing family of reavers and pirates that had been harassing the Republic for as long as there had been one by some accounts, and this Viron had been a particular thorn in the Empire's side of late.

"Look, I'm just saying he sounds like an absolute edgelord. I mean, what kind of dumb fucker names his ship Deathknell. Ooooooh, so scary. And the Dread-Tide? Seriously? Unless the dude is like twelve feet tall and jacked to shit, I'm not even going to bother with him. We've done well enough on our own so far, and we'll keep doing fine even if some edgelord tries to interfere in our bounties. Shit. We'll just kill him and add him to the score. Isn't that right, crew?"

Clu drew his armourweave cloak around him to keep out the cold of Anchorage, consciously altering the rates of his secondary and tertiary heart in order to better cope with the cold. He took a sip from the mug in his hand and sighed weakly.

This planet reminded him almost of a cheap Muun's Mygeeto. He'd hated that world too but at least it had wealth to make up for its natural dreariness, they were both nothing like Muunilinst with its flowing fields and lush forests, and the warm oceans heated by thousands upon thousands of 'smokers' and other underwater geothermal vents. But the real glory of Muunilinst - something that no where else in the entire galaxy had been able to beat during his travels - was the sky itself. It was said to be the most beautiful in all the galaxy both at day and at night, and Clu could very much believe that claim.

Many nights spent gazing up at the beautiful and glistening sky of Muunilinst had fueled his wanderlust - a very peculiar trait for a Muun and one which had never earned him much adulation among his peers, not until his days with the InterGalactic Banking Clan in the Clone Wars when it came to be a major boon for his allies - and driven him to see beyond it.

When he had been taken across the galaxy to Coruscant by his mother, he had seen the stars from another perspective and it had done little to sap him of his desire to travel beyond Muunilinst further. Yet the rotting under city of Coruscant and the many dangers that lay amidst it had left him with no illusions as to how dangerous and terrifying the galaxy could be, nor did his Mother and Father's downright criminal and unconscionable plans to cause a drug epidemic just to profit off the treatments leave him with any illusions that business with the galaxy at large was a clean and pretty affair. If you wanted to make real money, you had to be willing to crush a few people and go to a few dark places to get it.

This planet was not quite like that; The city that they were in was dangerous, certainly, but it didn't even bother with the veneer of shine that Coruscant lay over its lower levels. It was seedy, reeking of criminality and, to use less flowery language, an absolute shit hole. The planet was almost entirely covered in ice with but a few scattered settlements beneath it and a space port or two dotting the surface of the world; indigenous life was a rare thing indeed in such an inhospitable environment, and watching out the window as they came in to land it looked as though life had simply abandoned the planet entirely.

This comparison held in almost every respect; Unlike Muunilinst where the sky seemed to revel in the wealth and natural beauty of the world, as if in direct competition for your attention, the sky on Anchorage seemed to be as desperate to get away from it as everything else; It was almost pitch black with only a slim band of stars left to mark that it was anywhere in the known galaxy. As adrift in space and time on a course to its own inevitable destruction as most of its patrons, who were adrift and wasting away on a diet of death sticks and alcohol.

In short, Anchorage was Mygeeto with none of the wealth or mineral resources that made it even slightly tolerable. You quite literally couldn't have paid him enough to live here, it was that dreary and rancid of a place, but it had good business and you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

At least there was never a dull moment when you're in a cantina of criminals, scum and drug addicts; Clu's attention was drawn across the room for a moment as some poor bastard picked a fight with a KX-Series security droid and promptly got his bones pulverised into dust under the droids blows, a sickening crunch marking the impact of the droids metal fists and the man's cry of torment and agony piercing through the Cantina music. What an idiot.

The new KX Series really was something, though.. Clu had always had a thing for battle droids - or security droids as they were now called to skirt around imperial regulations - and he had been thinking perhaps he'd have to look into acquiring some of the KX Series the next time they made port somewhere with an Arakyd Industries subsidiary. Maybe he would have takenna look over the HoloNet or Shadowfeed with the hypereave transponder, with the proper reprogramming one might make a handy addition to the crew... If a very pricey one at that, having been designed for the imperial military. They were hardened against hacking and other such counter measures, making their acquisition difficult. But if there was someone inside Arakyd itself who might be willing to make an agreement, perhaps they'd be able to have one.

But in the end he'd decided that it probably wasn't worth it. There were enough Clone Wars era droids rusting away all over the place (including in their own shop, since they'd finally gotten a crew to help them manage the whole thing) that risking life and limb to get a KX series wasn't really a worthwhile investment, however much he'd have loved to own the shiny new security droids. Someday perhaps... Someday the Empire kgijt fall apart or even lift the restriction in battle droids, then he could finally see about getting more up to date ones or redesigning some of them. If only the C-B3 Cortosis Batle Droid could be realistically reverse engineered, but that required top of the line equipment which wasn't easily attained under the Empire.

Clu was a little concerned by the presence of such an enforcer droid here on Anchorage, however; Usually, wherever and enforcer droid was, the Imperials weren't far behind, and if there was a crackdown coming he'd rather not be caught at the table with an small band of rogues and wanted criminals. But the Empire wouldn't be this far out. Perhaps it was a rogue? On the one hand perhaps they could get it to join the crew, in the other hand if its programming was unstable it might be more dangerous to them than an assistance. Either way, the crew probably wouldn't take well to an Imperial droid running around the shop but their abilities made them quite the prize for anyone who could them. Perhaps he'd ask Solace about this particular droid once they were done here.

Clu remained quiet as Solace and the Rodian spoke of Viron Jek listening in the conversation. They may as well have been talking past each other, the Rodian was concerned about Viron Jek, and with good reason as far as Clu was concerned. Solace on the other hand... Solace was Solace, and some pirate running around with an edgy name wasn't enough to scare her, he knew that by now.

Now, Viron Jek... Viron Jek had entered back onto the scene recently, making trouble for the Empire and being a general pest for them. The Imperials didn't take kindly to being messed with, and a general rule of business was that you left the Empire alone and the Empire left you alone. Admittedly it wasn't a rule he always followed himself, but anyone brave enough and powerful enough to openly fuck with them and get away with it was a formidable adversary indeed.

As Solace finished and asked the crew if she was right that they'd add Viron Jek to the score, Clu couldn't help but grimace. Some of them crew might chest pound in agreement, he wouldn't be surprised by that, but he was going to take a more tempered approach. That was, after all, what he was here for, to provide the information to the crew. That included information they didn't want to hear, like how Jek was not some two bit pirate but a cold hearted killer who gave the Republic a run for their money.

The crew might stand a chance of killing Viron Jek, but having 'a chance' wasn't the sort of thing that pleased Clu. From what little he knew about Jek and his crew Jek was a veteran reaver with hundreds of raids under his belt, many men had tried to take him and those many men were dead. The Noreaster and her crew were a solid team on a solid ship, there was no doubt about that, but Viron Jek was just as solid and it could go either way.

Indeed, he knew some very respected Brokers who'd already started backing the other side, and that didn't exactly raise Clu's hopes. That he himself had started to shift towards betting on both parties in this equation made his mind even less at ease. If push came to shove, he'd find a way out of the Noreaster and benefit from this- he always did, that was what he did best and it was all just good business. But he did genuinely like this crew and, even if he hadn't, they were still a damn sight better than Viron Jek was.

"Viron Jek should not be underestimated." Clu said as he placed the Holocom down and pressed a button on it, showing an old wanted post from the Clone Wars era as he clasped his hands together, interlacing his fingers and furrowing his brow; His voice was somewhat nasally as all Muun's were, and it cut through the cantina music harshly. Yet it carried with it the undertone of certainty and finality, as if the statement itself were true by design rather than being a matter of opinion.

It was important that the crew know what they were up against, and if they weren't going to listen to the Rodian, perhaps at least they'd listen to him. If they wouldn't, then perhaps it would be best to have an exit strategy for if Viron Jek showed up to play, the best way to lose a fight was to walk into it half cocked and certain you were going to win regardless, especially when you're dealing with a cunning and proven foe.

"Your exaggerated description of Viron Jek may be closer to the truth than we realise; from what I hear of his personal combat skills if he were to attack us now, some of us would be dead before we'd even drawn our blasters. His penchant for ridiculously edgy names aside, Jek is a dangerous monster with a list of war crimes that would make Grand Moff Tarkin blush. He comes from a family of reavers and pirates which had been pillaging and looting the Republic since day one, some of them have been quite successful but I'm personally not sure if any have quite rivalled the brutality and destructiveness of Viron Jek." Clu continued, pausing for a moment to think. Viron Jek was definitely not a man to be underestimated; He remembered the Confederacy having contracted him during the Clone Wars, it was one of the few times that the Confederacy itself had dismissed a commander for being too harsh... And given that the Confederacy had fielded General Grevious, that was saying something. Now if Viron Jek had been messing with the empire without suitable recompense, that made him even more dangerous. The Imperials were not easily trifles with, and any pirate with enough ships or big enough ships to take on the Imperials had enough firepower to turn the Noreaster into a pile of scrap without breaking a sweat.

And if Jek did blast their ship to pieces, they'd have gotten off easy. He didn't even want to know what the man might do if took some of them prisoner. Probably something akin to The Burning. That didn't even bear thinking about. He didn't exactly have a track record for being a kind and merciful man.

Clu lifted his mug and took a long and refreshing drink from it as he let what he said and the holo image sink in for a moment, thinking back to Solace mocking the name of Viron Jeks ship. She was right about one thing; It was a stupidly edgy name, and he understood her discounting him based on that. Names of ships didn't mean Jack shit, you could call your ship the Sun Crusher and it be a useless pile of junk or you could encounter the Rainbow and get smashed by its Turbolasers before you'd even fired off a warning shot. Dangerous sounding names did not a dangerous ship make.

Still, he thought as he placed his mug back down, it was wrong to discount Viron Jek on his poor choice of names alone. The pirate had more than proven himself worthy of taking edgy names here and there, whatever the crew might think of them.

"During the Clone Wars, the Confederacy of Independent Systems contracted Jek to raid and pillage a number of Republic border worlds near the outer rim. It was the belief of the Confederacy that he would send a clear message to the Republic borders that they were not protected, that the Republic did not care for them and that it was better to secede and join the confederacy than face its wrath in the coming storm. Viron Jek excelled at this task... but the sheer brutality with which he did it gave even the Separatist leadership pause for concern and he was eventually let go by the very men who had suggested his services, who thought that his actions were ultimately doing more harm to the confederacy than good." Clu shook his head lightly, the holographic poster floating in circle slowly, listing several of the many dozens, if not hundreds of various war crimes Viron Jek had managed to accrue just in his short time raiding republic planets, let alone his wider career. It contained a smattering of details the republic had on the man, but in truth the list itself was what Clu was hoping to catch their eyes; putting aside the list of atrocities, there were some impressive accomplishments mixed in there, this man had proven himself a deadly opponent against the Republics navy.

And this was just the stuff people knew about Viron Jek, who even knows what he had gotten up to that nobody knew about. Solace was being too laissez-faire about this beast and it out him on edge. Brokers knew what they were on about, and with the way the underworld was swinging, the Noreaster and her crew would have their work cut out for them if Viron Jek decided to start infringing on their business.

"You see, everything was a fair target for Viron Jek; Refugee camps, Hospital ships, civilian offices, prisoners of war. He would bombard his own positions from orbit to deny them to the enemy and whatever you might think of CIS battle droids and whatever pirates he'd have working with his crew at the time, it's needless to say its a rather cold act to blow up your own forces. Jek also wiped entire cities off planets in seething orbital strikes and made little distinction between civilian and military targets and infrastructure. Whereas many separatist generals at least made an effort not to gun down random civilians, Jek didn't care for how much collateral damage he caused, if he could destroy or steal it, he would. No amount of attempts to bring in rules and restrictions on his and other mercenaries conducts from the Confederacy of Independent Systems could bring Jek to heel, he simply did what he pleased as he pleased... and more often than not what he pleased was a bloodthirsty rampage that could hardly have been rivaled by a Rancor high on Spice. That should tell you about the kind of person we are dealing with; He is a man seemingly without a conscience, cold as this planet's glaciers and sharper than an Echani Vibroblade." Clu said with some finality, changing the holoprojector with a click of a button to show one of the scenes from the clone wars that had been captured on the holonet by republic reporters, a single scene from a village by Jek's order; In the centre of the image stood one of Jek's mercenaries with a deathstick in one hand and his weapon clutched tightly in the other, stomping the head of an old woman into the curb as a couple of his comrades passed by talking to each other with almost bored and disinterested expressions on their face, as if the slaughter around them was utterly banal. A single battle droid stood guard over the scene, blaster in hand and making the connection between Jek's wrath and the Confederacy of Independent Systems quite clear- indeed this had been one of many ways in which the hiring of Jek had backfired on the confederacy. Lying beside the old woman on either side were two other people, an older gentle man and another woman. The woman had her hands on her head still with her face obscured from view by the body of the old woman- but a small pool of blood surrounded the mans head, making it clear that he had already met his fate. Clu leant back again, letting the crew take in the grisly scene of the massacre.

"To summarise... Please don't underestimate him, I am rather attached to my head and am not in a hurry to lose it." Clu finished at last, setting himself back in the seat and bringing one of his hands up to his chin, rubbing it lightly as he regarded the Rodian Solace was in contact with. He left the holocomm on the table, the image still displaying the brutal killing for all to see.

If this Rodians reaction was anything to go by, Viron Jek really was as dangerous as he had sounded. He didn't at all seem at ease from Solace's responses, if anything he seemed more worried. Clu glanced over the other present crew members for a moment, furrowing his brow in consideration before looking towards B-22.

The C-B3 Battle Droid had served him well for many years and he had no reason to doubt its durability or its competence. Perhaps even Viron Jek would be unable to best his robotic bodyguard, but he wasn't particularly open to the idea of trying it out. He had lost too many of the C-B3's in the Clone Wars, he wasn't about to lose the last of his batch now because people weren't taking Viron Jek of all people seriously.

Over in the large and rather full docking zone, a lone freighter slowly pulls in to be moored to the station. As the engines of the ship slowly whirred down, the landing ramp pops open with a puff of smoke and gas, the ship depressurizing before the ramp is slowly lowered until it hits the landing pad with a clang. After a few moments, a myriad of personnel begin to exit the freighter, among them, a lone woman wrapped up in her cloak while donning her usual attire of armorweave. Skylar glances around the station in curiosity, only ever having heard of it from others she had worked with in the past. It was her first festival, and she didn't exactly know what to expect, well, other than the usual drunks and occasional fights here and there. Her idle thoughts were interrupted as she noticed the captain of the vessel she came aboard on approach her.

"Ah, captain. Thank you for letting me hitch a ride with you. As promised, here's the rest of the credits I promised in the payment, and even a little extra since I was feeling generous."

"Of course! Anything for a friend with credits! Now, go enjoy yourself, there's a festival out there with lots of sights to see and drinks to drink!"

The captain of the vessel let out a hearty laugh before walking off with the rest of the crew, presumably to go get drunk in the nearest cantina and probably even try his luck with... Well, anyone he could get his hands on. Regardless, Skylar knew she was going to have to go into a cantina herself even though she always hated how noisy they were. If there was one thing she learned after all, is that if you're trying to meet someone then the cantina was the place to go. With a soft sigh, she picked up her bag, filled with everything she cared to keep, and slung it over her shoulder before departing for a nearby cantina in the opposite direction of where the captain of her previous vessel walked off to.

The mercenary had barely gotten through the door of the cantina before watching as some poor sap was flung across the establishment by a KX droid. She let out a sigh, as if saying 'Oh great, here we go again' before just sauntering off towards the bar, wincing a little as she heard the crunch of bone followed by possibly one of the most pitiful cries of pain she ever heard. Skylar approaches an empty seat along the bar, setting her pack down next to the stool and taking a seat to place her arms on the bar before waving the bartender over.

"Something sweet please, not too strong. Oh, and a bite to eat as well, thanks."

---

The insane amount of noise erupting from the streets and festivities drifted through the otherwise still, silent room. The only way one could the signs of other objects in the room was the silhouettes of furniture, highlighted by the flashing of the light from the streets outside. Occasionally a loud bang, followed by cheers could be heard from the streets below. Likely fireworks or some illicit activity, the girl muttered to herself as she stood quietly in the center of the room. The only illumination came from the little visor over her right eye, projecting the data she was typing away on her comlink. Then silently moving over towards a dresser next to the bed, she pulled out drawers as she searched through with a precision of one who has practiced time and again to find... something. Letting out an irritated sigh as she looked through, the girl then moved to procedurally search through the room for soemthing. Something she could use to complete her contract, then get paid and off this forsaken ice planet. How she hated these damn places, reminding her too much of that planet.

After a furious amount of searching, the girl finally found what she was looking for in the apartment. In the bottom of a lockbox, with a hidden compartment in the bottom that she had needed to remove the bottom of the box just to find. A simple little chip, which caused her deep red lips to curve into a small smile. Oh, how these little pieces of metal could hold so much that could scare so many men into doing whatever one wanted. Her mood noticably better, the girl calmly made her way back towards the bed to sit on the edge and wait. Plugging in the chip to her commlink, she made a small giggle of delight at seeing the information contained within. It was exactly what she desired it to be. Then moving herself over to the kitchen, the girl helped herself to a deep red wine. The fruity scent was absolutely stunning. Moving with the wine glass and seating herself on the edge of the bed, she smiled and swirled the liquid in the glass then leaned back just slighly while planting her other hand on the bed. A pose the girl knew would draw attention to her and keep her target offguard, something beneficial to the girl.

She did not have to wait long, as the door to the small apartment slid open and a rather tall male torguta in a nice looking suit stepped in. The light turned on, a he froze as the door closed behind him. The sight of the voluptuous red-skinned twi'lek relaxing on his bed. The black bodysuit she wore was one meant to leave behind no traces of the woman, but also one that gripped her form rather tightly. Her lips curved into a seductive smile as she took a sip of the the wine, her orange eyes locked onto her prey. "Mr. Kevros, a pleasure to meet you. Don't bother pulling that blaster, by the way, you shoot me and this information I have gets sent out to... all of your associates. Now we wouldn't want that, would we Mr. Kevros? So some on in, sit in that chair and kick the blaster over to me. Now." She said in a sweet tone, yet one dripping with venom as she watched him comply with her orders and soon she had acquired a new heavy blaster. The man silent, yet seemingly curious about what she could possibly have on him as the twi'lek stood up and walked towards the seated man. On the table in front of him, she placed a simple holo-projector. Clicking a few commands on her commlink, a projection of the Torguta and some human female appeared in front of him. Then switched to what seemed to be a ledger as she walked behind his chair and leaned forwards. Her arms coming over his shoulders from behind, resting on his chest as her lips were next to his lips as she whispered.

"You've been a bit of a naughty man, Mr. Kevros. That right there most certainly does not seem to your wife. Even more, whats this buisness ledger you got? Paying for these expensive trips to Spira for two? Yet... that's not your wife is it? Dear me..." She muttered as she let go of him and moved back around in front of the torguta as he tried to spout excuses, threats, everything in the book towards the twi'lek who seemed to be rather enjoying herself. "Don't try, Mr. Kevros. We both know what your wife would do to your reputation if she found out. Our dear former imperial agent still has her contacts I would bet, and even better we both know her vindictive streak. I much think you wouldn't want the empire finding out where the man stealing from under their noses is hanging out." She said with a giggle once more as she walked towards the counter where she left the bottle of wine. "But I like presenting solutions, not problems. So, here's what you're gonna do sweetheart. You're going to drop all bounties you have placed, and I won't release these. If you place them again, I will know and I will release this information directly to your wife and children. When we see how long you'll last." The girl said with a grin, knowing full well that the thief's family was the most important thing in his miserable existence. She had, afterall, been trailing him and his family for the past two months.

It only took about ten minutes of a silent standoff between the two before he caved and picked up his commlink. Moments later, Brin got a notification of what had happened to his bounties. Turns out, they had all suddenly gone offline with the man claiming settlements had been reached. Giving him a friendly smile, Brin stepped towards him and looked at the sitting torguta. "I'm so happy we could reach an agreement Mr. Kevros. Remember, keep your word or I will release these." She said calmly, turning the wine bottle over and pooring the liquid out all over his suit. Walking out of the the building, she beautiful twi'lek made her way among the crowds to a booth in the First Port Cantina. Moments later, a tradoshan joined her and spoke a simple sentence. "Drinks are on me tonight, dear." Which caused the girl to smile as she heard the phrase they had agreed upon, and soon the trandoshan slipped away. Checking her comlink, she confirmed the money transfer. As she stood up soon after and started making her way out of the establishment, her gaze found a rather attractive woman sitting next to a squirely rodian. Giving her a friendly wink, Brin then blew a kiss towards the woman with a flirtausious smile as she left the establishment.

After that, it was a short stop at her hideout to collect Sparky and the pack containing her basic droid maitenence gear, two other outfits, her lightsaber, and the disassembled sniper hidden away. From there she made her way down to the docks to find a ship to stowaway on to escape from the planet before the torguta came after her for what she had just done. Finding a simple enough looking ship, a CR90. She supposed that would work well enough, and soon stole away into the cargo hold of the ship alonng with little Sparky. Hiding among the cargo, the girl let out a barely audible sigh as she sat back then opened up the comlink once more. Tapping a small command on the bottom left corner, she watched with a grin as the Torguta's bank accounts were reduced to zero, spread generously out to the occupants of Anchorage who had accounts associated with the area, except for him. Thus ensuring he lost his fortune and couldn't place more bounties while also giving a nice festival gift to those who lived in the city. Every transaction going through with a little drawn sprite attached to it, a little callsign she had made to associate with her 'shadow' bounty hunter name. Leaning back and pleased with her work, she sighed.

Then something fall next to her, knocked off where it had been stored next to her head. As it hit the ground it made a loud, and metallic thud against the metal floor. Her breath caught as she looked frantically around to see if somebody had noticed the sound.

---

Sable sat at the desk in his room the holo-communicator in front of him bathing his shell in bright blue light. 'His' room, it was a weird thing to think about even after two years on the ship, there were people out in the galaxy being used as currency and here aboard the Noreaster, a droid has its own personalised room. Technically Sable was following orders, while other members of the crew including Solace went into the city to look for fresh blood he was to check the cargo hold once it had finished being loaded but until he got that message there was little point to him leaving his room. In front of Sable hovered the image of a human woman with short dark hair, fiddling with something in her hand just out of shot. "I'm surprised you've kept it after all these years Everei.""Why? it's the best gift Alanna ever got me." The woman replied placing whatever she was toying with down in front of her. It had been five years since Alanna had passed but Sable and her former partner still spoke often, once a month or so. Normally it was just so Everei could badger Sable into coming out and joining her but Sable didn't mind as sometimes it was just nice to talk to someone from his past.



It was a damp overcast day on Saleucami; Sable, Everei and the other half-dozen members of the Eunectes stood around the grave. Sable with one arm around Everei's shoulder to try and help her not have a breakdown, the rest of the crew simply paying silent respects to their deceased comrade. As the rest of the crew returned to the ship Sable stayed by Everei's side as she placed a picture of the two of them onto the top of the grave. To most onlookers, the two wouldn't seem like a likely partnership. Everei was a harsh looking woman, scars covering quite a lot of her. And even though she was younger than Alanna she looked far older. Whereas Alanna looked very young in comparison, While she may have looked like a clone of her mother her personality had all the human personality of her father, that is to say, stubborn as all hell.

Before departing in her own ship back to her cell Everei offered Sable a space in her ship, a chance to join the upstart rebellion and stick it to the Empire for what they did to Alanna. But Sable, for now, would decline, Alanna's instructions were clear he was to find his own way in the galaxy for a while, 'discover himself' and who was he to question her orders.



"Speaking of gifts, you never mentioned what all that money went towards getting, I do hope your bosses spent it wisely." "Sable." She began with a sigh. "You and I both know that even if I knew I couldn't tell you, you never know who's listening in on here. Now if you'd come out here and join us, join me, you could see how that money has been... invested." "Look, Everei I've explained this to you every time we talk. I'm not coming to join you until my contract here ends. Alanna wanted me to 'discover myself' whatever that means. And if it's more the money you're after than me then all you have to do is ask, I have a... friend who can arrange safe transfers." "You're dammed stubborn Sable. Just like Alanna was, sometimes I wonder whether you made her like that or she changed you. No, you don't have to worry about money Sable, from what I know the money Alanna gave us still hasn't run out. The bosses are more after you than your money." Before Sable could respond a voice came over the ship's intercom. "We've finished loading the cargo, we'll close the door behind us." "Well Everei that's my cue it was nice talking to you again, same time next month?" "Sounds good see you then." and with that, the image of the woman disappeared. and Sable's room fell back into silence save for the metallic clanks of his feet on the floor. Sable picked his E-5 from the storage rack and placed it on his back before leaving and locking his room.

It was the same at every port the ship stopped at when they took on supplies, Sable would check the hold before the ship departed in case of stowaways. Being the only one able to detect life forms automatically landed him with the job but he didn't mind. In the hold, no one bothered him. He closed the door as he entered and patched himself into the Cargo bays controls before beginning his checks. After finding the Kushibanin there not too long ago Sable made sure to be extra thorough less something more dangerous than a helpless small fluffy creature slip by him. The check went smoothly for the first few minutes, everything so far was present and accounted for. Then from behind him fell, followed by a loud metallic thud as it landed. Sable spun around and drew his blaster pointing it in the direction of the noise, spotting the said fallen crate he noticed something red shuffle in behind the crates next to it Sable dimmed the lights in the hold till it was pitch black before magnetising himself to the floor. The silence that now filled the darkness of the hold was deafening, the metallic thunking of Sable's footsteps the only break to it, as he rounded the crate he saw the Twi'Lek huddled in as tight as she could be. He raised his blaster "I can see you Tail Head, throw your weapons on the floor in front of you." maybe it was lucky that he had darkened the bay since in his NV mode he spotted the familiar shape of a lightsaber on her hip. "Including the Lightsaber." His tone was harsh, almost like he was barking orders at her. the heavy robotic filter of his voice echoing around the silent hangar. "Boss we've got a problem in the hold, another stowaway, armed and possibly dangerous, you might want to get back here as quick as you can. And Airus, I'm gonna need your help... she's got a lightsaber." Sable announced over the crews' comlink.

---

[:: The Noreaster | Quarters of Sai’rys Vytar ::]

“This can’t be that complex...”

The young Chiss mumbled, followed by a sigh that escaped his dark cobalt lips as low-lit crimson eyes continued to stare at the endless lines of bluish green code and algorithms scrolling across the screen on the handheld datapad. A few times he’d shifted his body to stretch back muscles while sitting on the edge of the cot nestled inside the cramped quarters that had been his for the last week since hopping aboard the Noreaster. He never had much of a chance to thank the Muun for the help, but from what he’d dug up about Clu, perhaps helping him out with acquiring a KX Series droid might prove a large enough payout. Hopefully, however, Sai'rys would be around long enough to at least return the favor in his own time. Time. That was something he had so little of back on Coruscant, always looking over his shoulder and never staying in the same place for too long. But things seemed different aboard the ship, especially a ship full of the galaxies more rough-and-tumble crewmembers, a few that no doubt wouldn't hesitate to send the Chiss on a first class ticket straight out the airlock. But he hoped not to give them reason to, especially after reading up on several of them, which was something not unfamiliar to the kid. Information on anyone and anything was out there, you just needed to know where to dig sometimes to find it. Needless to say, he didn't want to be on the wrong side of his new crewmates.

For the last three hours, the twenty-something had been embedded in the decryption process, little by little chipping away at the multiple layers of security in a device and language that seemed almost otherworldly. The numerical sequences, symbols, and the lettering that followed was quite foreign to him, but not so much to the translation module he'd attached. A module which was “commandeered” from his temporary pals in CorSec and that he'd had the pleasure of modify on more than one occasion for specific purposes of reading all variations of programming language, especially in the absence of a trusted protocol droid. A thick, intertwined, multicolor data cable was plugged into the rear interface port of the holopad he held, while the other end was jacked into a device that appeared to be some kind of palm-sized metallic cube with intricate etching along it's facets. On the top -or what was assumed as such- a disc sat recessed a half inch below the surface and several tiny crystalline transceivers lined its perimeter resembling that of a holo-projector. Yep, now this was something he was very familiar with, as one of his specialties was always “holo-forging”, and he’d never met a holo-projection device that didn’t always have a backdoor into its root. Then again, he’d never come across such alien technology before, especially not something that was found in Coruscant’s Undercity, lying around in a pile of more supposed space junk.

First and foremost, Sai’rys thought of himself as a slicer, but he was also very much a scavenger, especially when it came to parts and pieces which could be used to fix just about anything, or assembled to assist in breaking into a system, such as data spikes and the like. Although rarely did he ever find anything as fascinating as his most recent find, whatever the hell it was. While the the inscriptions on the surface were completely unknown to him, he did make a bit of progress deciphering the first layer, which looked to only identify the cubed device as some kind of “carrier”. But, like an onion, each layer of protection had to be peeled away, however…unlike an onion, there was also a chance it could destroy the artifact.

“I need a break.”

The Chiss laid back onto the firm mattress, resting the datapad -that was still in the process of carving its way through the system protocols- atop his chest and stared blankly at the ceiling. While slicing in general is fairly mind-numbing at times, diving head first into foreign tech is even worse, especially when one has no other choice than to attempt brute-force attacks against unknown coded entities. Sai’rys grinned to himself, thinking back a few days ago as one of the first “assignments” he was tasked with was reinforcing the Noreaster’s security data infrastructure, and while even that was a painstakingly long and arduous process, it certainly didn’t get anywhere near the magnitude of such a tiny metallic device. But he’d been trying to wrap his mind around it for the last couple of days, and it was time to disconnect for awhile. Captain Solace mentioned that they’d be arriving at Anchorage within a few hours so it was probably in his best interest to get some sleep, even if only for a short while…

A long while later.

Several high-pitched beeps in rapid succession woke the Chiss with a start, as he rubbed the sleep from his dull red eyes and lifted the datapad to check on progress. Not much. Infact, the decryption protocol was still active, and very little information seemed to be pulled from it at all aside from a few diagnostic readouts and battery power, which in and of itself was pretty interesting. The power supply, which couldn’t have been that large to begin with considering the size of the cube, was self-sufficient, and constantly recharging itself by some kind of means. Although power output was so little, that even the smallest amount of energy was needed for any functions to be performed. Sai’rys checked the small datapad attached to his wrist, which told him that he’d sleep much longer than planned.

“No doubt everyone just left you, bud.” He muttered to himself, raising up to a sitting position and stretching his neck and back before standing up, realizing the ship wasn’t moving and had probably docked already.

After a few minutes, he exited his cabin and headed down the long corridor, realizing just how quiet it was for the first time since boarding. He had rarely flown in space, perhaps no more than a handful of times in his young life, but the Noreaster was by far one of the largest and more impressive. And with six decks, plenty of opportunity to explore, which is what he’d had in mind for awhile anyway. And really, who wouldn't want to roam through such a massive CR90 Corvette? Besides, the more Sair’rys wandered about, the more he realized that no one was around, which meant they were most likely on the planet somewhere.

“Although…” The Chiss mumbled to himself as he rubbed his smooth blue chin, and remembered that during his little information gathering expedition, that the droid -Sable, was it?- generally did a throughout sweep of the cargo holds while no other entities were on board, so as curiosity would have it, Sai’rys figured he’d head that way.

“However…” He cocked his head, thinking about something interesting though. “Did the droid pick up my biometric readings when he scanned?” Sai’rys chuckled, shaking his head, thinking that perhaps the lack of sleep was messing with his better logic. Of course a scan would have detected him. He continued his journey toward the cargo bay, and scratched the back of his head, still contemplating that one thought, and then something hit him.

“Could that cube have masked my biological readout at the time?...”

Before any further thought on the subject came to pass, he heard the mechanical voice of Sable echoing from the cargo hold in the distance. Not much could be discerned with the ambient noise coming from storage, but Sai’rys could have sworn he heard something about…

A lightsaber?

---

Buurenaar, often shortened to Buure [boo-REY], by those familiar with his work. He's never seemed to care what he's called. No one who knows him well enough to tell is willing to share. In all honesty, the few who knew were probably in a much darker region of the galaxy working hard to help the aliit prosper. Buure had been tasked with a different job, and though it was a lonely existence, he didn't mind. He was able to communicate via recorded data packets, though they were slow to reach their recipient at times. It was a comfort of it's own to simply know that he would be reunited with them eventually, even if only in Manda. He finished stowing his gear in his locker, as he read the latest such message. His podmates had just finished an underwater salvage. It had been fairly straight forward, though local wildlife had proven particularly... entertaining.

He felt proud of his siblings, and was pleased that their prowess and skill was both acknowledged and put to good use. He headed towards the cargo hold to check on the last of his gear. It was a personal submersible, and he wanted to be sure it was stowed and secured properly. Aruetii rarely cared for their gear properly, in his experience. He hadn't linked his comm to the ship's system yet, so the call about a stow away was missed completely. He thought he saw one of the crew rushing towards the hold, but he wasn't sure. He continued on his way, unhurried since there wasn't an alarm.

He arrived, and stepped into a dark hold, which seemed odd but was in no way uncomfortable to him. His visor showed him everything in dim outlines. Line of sight was no limitation for him at all, since his beskar'gam made use of something akin to echo-location in addition to thermal imaging, low light filter, and a mass spectrometer. He could see through most of the cargo canisters both inside and behind them, though inside took focus. He let his gaze sweep across the room, though it paused on a couple of beings towards the back. A moment later the shape of another crouched in front of them became apparent, and Buure moved towards them. He kept his pace measured and a tad brisk, his boots hitting the deck with force enough to be heard clearly by everyone in the room. He paused, taking note of the positions of those in front of him. It would seem a stowaway had been caught. This could get bad fast, stowaways were often desperate beings. Nothing is more dangerous than a cornered and desperate being, as there is no plan that it won't consider at least once.

Buure tried not to interrupt and he kept his hands visible and empty. He wanted to stand witness, and was actively recording everything his suit could detect as the events might come into question later. He was several paces from them stowaway and the two crew men confronting her. He said a single word, in basic and in huttese, since that was an often used trade language in the outer rim: "Problem?"

---

The Noreaster | Toilets

"How could you even manage to miss this bad?" Lucien muttered under his breath as he moved the brush up and down the side of the plasteel toilet. He was on his hands and knees, scrubbing shit out of the bathrooms that were located near the crew quarters, dressed in his typical casual clothing. Trousers, a long sleeved shirt, and a vest with his utility belt and thigh holster strapped on, E-11 slung over his back. It was times like these that he wondered just why he had signed on with the crew of the mariner a few months ago. He'd really drawn the short stick when he had agreed to take up the position of ship janitor while they were travelling. It was the worst mistake of his career.

Sitting back for a moment, Lucien took a second to light the cigarra in his mouth and take a draw on it, before blowing the smoke out into the air of the small cubical toilet. He returned to scrubbing. He contemplated just blasting the fecal and urine covered item to bits with his weapon, but he figured that the captain really wouldn't appreciate having to pay a couple hundred credits for a new toilet to be installed. Thus he decided that the best course of action was simply to continue scrubbing. At the very least, this was easier work then what he had been doing, running around with various clients on outterrim planets, playing muscle and looking dangerous with his blaster. The Imperial issue stormtrooper armor he wore for the work may have been painted and modified so it didn't look like the original, but a few people were jumpy enough that it didn't matter. They preferred to shoot first and didn't care to ask questions later. That was part of the reason he had signed on to the crew.

He continued the work for several hours, working to get the toilets cleaned perfectly. It was part of a ritual cleaning he had taken up, one that was slowly making it's way through different parts of the ship. When he was done cleaning the toilets, he grabbed the mop and bucket and started on the hallways, mopping up and down the ship. It was during this little clean up that the comlink on his wrist crackled to life. Sable announced that there was another stowaway in the hold, with a lightsaber. Lucien sighed and let the mop drop into the bucket, leaning the handle against the wall. He trotted at a quick pace towards the cargo bay, unslinging his blaster as he approached and switching it to stun. He stopped at the door and looked into the hold, watching what he could see. It was dark inside, and he didn't have a light, but he figured Sable had his reasons for keeping it off. Instead of turning the lights up, he just aimed through his scope, using the nightvision function to try and see the encounter.

---

---

---

---

The planet was cold. Not like the vast plains and rolling fields of Ubertica. The rest of the galaxy outside, it was a frigid, unwelcoming place, and Kabal despised it for that very reason. Anchorage seemed to be the poor man's Tatooine, a lawless haven for the thief, the smuggler, and the mercenary. The first and, really, only rule enforced by the enigmatic Harbormaster be that no one carry a blaster on the planet's surface. The punishment for breaking the rule was death, by those who...were allowed to carry blasters. Kabal found this rule confusing, and despite Solace's insistence, had no intention of obeying it. Indeed, the Captain was smart, and knew to lock the armory down within an hour of landing at port, keep the Ubese from hoarding any secret weapons. But even after being on the crew for a year, Kabal still had a few tricks left up his sleeve; one of them being a thermal detonator.

The Noreaster's armory was the crew's main center for whatever weapons were needed for a mission, but after invocation of the 'no explosives' rule following an incident that Kabal stubbornly insisted (and still does) was the fault of the Good Admiral Piff, he decided to make his own armory. A hollowed out floor tile in his quarters, nearly indistinct from the others, filled to the brim with high-powered weapons that would inspire awe from several of the crew-members, and several more charges of war crimes from the authorities. A TL-50 Heavy Repeater was Kabal's latest addition - and a fine addition it was - a source of pride for the weapons-obsessed Ubese.

But, indeed, Solace was smart, and even after locking down the armory demanded that Kabal relinquish all the weapons currently on his person, under the watchful eye of Five-Toes, ready to hurl his massive bulk at the poor Ubese should he resist. What followed was an at-least five-minute process of Kabal turning over any weapons, or items that could be used as weapons. Wrist rocket launcher, flamethrower, grenades, vibroknife, tuning stylus taken from the droid bay, all of it amassed in a small pile at Solace's feet. Kabal believed that his shock gloves, carefully interwoven webbing into the fabric of his gauntlets would be missed, and they were! Until Five-Toes dutifully reminded the Captain with nothing short of the biggest shit-eating grin in the galaxy. Revenge for all the times he had felt the sting of the gloves, himself. And to think Kabal had been going easy on him.

With what could only be described as a temper tantrum of swearing in his native language to a degree that would make his mother cry, Kabal stormed off to be on his own until the crew finally landed. Feeling more naked than he ever had before, Kabal was forced to think on his feet, carry light, enough that if something happened on Anchorage, he'd be able to do more than run and hide. Hiding wasn't particularly in his nature, especially when he had access to his equipment. But Solace had put him in a rough spot, and, as usual, it was up to him to clean up the mess. A thermal detonator up his sleeve, a flashbang under the folds of his clothing, and a DL-44 in his boot. It certainly wasn't an optimal loadout, but it made Kabal feel a tad less vulnerable.

Meticulously replacing the floor tile with not a seam out of place, Kabal stayed hidden inside his quarters until an audible lurch signaled that the ship had landed at port. Volunteering to follow Solace, Clu, and a few choice other crew-members out into the icy armpit of the galaxy, it was a brisk, unpleasant walk to get to the Last Resort Cantina. Despite conditions, Kabal didn't utter a single complaint or even a shiver, as it seemed. The Ubese were a strong, splintered people, having endured not only near-decimation, but complete galactic erasure. Yet every time, they rose from the ashes stronger than ever. To complain about the cold was an admittance of weakness - and Kabal refused to be beaten by the weather.

The entrance to the Last Resort was guarded by a hulking Aqualish who served as bouncer, apathetically looking each visitor up-and-down for any visible contraband before letting them through. As the Mariner and her crew approached, there was an odd glint in the creature's eye that hinted making Solace an exception to his no pat-down routine, but nothing came of it. Respect, or maybe just a lick of good-old common sense.

As they walked past, Kabal turned his helmeted head back to stare the bouncer in the face, prompting a growl from the brutish creature; to which Kabal growled back in kind. The inside of the cantina was a crowded, dimly-lit haven for Outer Rim Scum, free from the near-omnipresent eye of the Empire. Kabal couldn't help but grin madly behind his expressionless mask. Cramped, poor visibility, one exit; one flashbang going off is all it would take to start a massacre, and Kabal was prepared to do just that should things get out-of-hand.

But Captain Solace may as well have been in her home element. The Mariner's identity was one cultivated through years of dropped whispers, half-baked rumors, and a nudge to the underground by none other than the Fixer. But the woman, herself, dangerous as she was, favored little more than a strong drink, and a man or woman - or both - to drunkenly take back to her private quarters. Kabal didn't understand the appeal of a lot of it, but it made the Captain happy; and when the Captain was happy, the crew was happy. When the Captain wasn't happy, well, then that usually meant Airus was in 'charge,' and that didn't make Kabal happy.

Inside, it didn't take long for the first physical conflict to start. Some cockeyed smuggler with a smirk that reflexively made Kabal want to knock out a few teeth decided to pick a fight with a nearby KX-droid minding its own business. Didn't take a broker's bet to figure out how that fight would go. The smuggler immediately found himself picked up off the ground with the same ease that one would lift a glass to their lips, throttled and thrown full-force into a wall, a scream and the shattering of bone interrupting the music and ambience for only a brief moment. This was the Outer Rim, and the unwritten creed of "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes" was something of a golden rule.

After that minor distraction, Kabal turned to look back at who Solace was speaking to: a jittery Rodian who clearly seemed out of his depth. Kabal was thankful for the helmet hiding the disgust painted clearly on his features: the bulbous eyes, flapping snout, sucker-tipped fingers, and the stench. Kabal couldn't, or wouldn't, suppress a minor insult in his native tongue, knowing full-well that the Rodian wouldn't understand him. It was bad enough to be on a crew full of aliens, but at least there he could hide away in his quarters.

What was important, however, was mention of Viron Jek. Solace was unimpressed, her confidence something of a morale-booster, if only a bit. Clu, however, wasn't having any of it. Placing down a holocom with a rather distinct wanted poster, Clu started explaining in-depth the reputation that Viron Jek had accumulated over the years as a pirate-lord willing to spit in the Empire's face. Kabal found this boring. But he did take interest in the holoprojector shifting images, finally landing on a rather grisly scene taken from the holonet by reporters. Kabal stared intently at the image, his expression unreadable through the dual-visor of his helmet.

"Big." Was all he said, a word processed through what must-have-been half-a-dozen filters and speech scramblers, creating an unsettling metallic tone that was equal parts grating and off-putting, shifting in pitch from a high chirp to an almost gravelly raspiness, all tinted by that steely edge.

Simply saying the word left a bad taste in Kabal's mouth. Even after the years spent learning and speaking Basic, he detested it. The language was not his own, its words not his own. For a time, he outright refused to speak it, but the few translator units he could get his hands on were never up-to-snuff. Might be time to broaden the search, see what spare credits he could get his hands on that didn't require asking Clu for a loan. Kabal found the idea of prostrating himself before the Muun revolting, an affront to his dignity; however-sparse the rest of the crew believed it to be.

Saying nothing else, Kabal leaned back in his seat, resisting the urge to take out his hidden grenade and begin tinkering with it. Such work was simple, brought him at least a little amount of peace, but no, Kabal would save that for the ship. Instead, he kept watching the KX-droid in something of admiration. Perhaps that was one thing he and Clu shared.

---

---

---

---

A thousand colors bloomed before her, racing along paths that dipped in and out of the ether in strange and twisting patterns. Blues and yellows skipped away from every footstep, splashing along the walls just to return when next barefeet touched upon deck plate. Purple danced along with her fingers above her head, the slow motions almost lazy as she danced with them, swaying and bobbing along to a tune only she could hear. To everyone else the ship was simply a box of durasteel and cable, but to her it was so much more. For Sena, it was a wonderous world full of color and sound that was there just for her. The cabling just below her feet sung with the data it carried, a potential of video from across the galaxy that could be anything from the face and voice of a friend to one of the holonet programs that always delighted her so. Joy was everywhere if one was but to seek it out, and of course she rarely had to try.

This was her home, a galleon of the stars that carried her and her makeshift family to many places of wonder. Verra always insisted that she stay inside, remain within her room, but how could she when there was exploration to be done? Her heart yearned to see what could be seen, to feel the winds of strange worlds on her face and listen in to the people of them. This one in particular called to her, whispering from far below of cold secrets and mystical treasures hiding beneath layers of ice. All one had to do was gently peel them back and it would all be there for them. At least, that's what she believed and had made up in her mind, imagination running rampant from the few stories sister had told her of the planet. Anchorage sounded to her like a wonderful place, even if it was supposed to be anything but. Thousands of aliens and humans alike, all gathered in one city that belonged to no one… It was like the stories of the old independent worlds before the Republic.

She could see like no other except her sister and their friend, a thin veil of blue silk hiding eyeless sockets that still peered through anything and everything. To her left as she turned her head, she saw their chef Mr. Grel already preparing the evening meal. Everyone called him Five-Toes because he was missing one, but she thought it was a little mean even if he insisted otherwise. The smell of the food called to her, and though she was tempted to come say hello to see about getting just a little nibble early, she also knew that he didn't like that much. That, and the familiar shape of a gizka was lurking nearby. Admiral Piff was once again trying to sneak into the kitchens, a sharp warning between pursed lips to get its attention was just enough to let it know she was watching. It scrabbled along down the hallway further, ducking down into one of the smaller maintenance hatches presumably to nibble on some cabling, but she knew that Piff was a good gizka and didn't do those kinds of things.

The adventure continued, a swish of color from both her sundress and the long single-braid of hair over her shoulder as she peered around a corner to see what might be awaiting. Since everyone was out and about, it was just her for now, and that meant that the conference room was hers to tap into the holonet. Verra didn't like it, said she needed to be careful, but she had also made it so very easy for her to understand and get what she wanted. A large remote sat on the table, her name on it in big stickers indicating it was hers and for the screens. Just the press of a button did what she wanted, recorded shows coming up right where she had left them.

---

At one side the rodian cowered as if under imminent threat of death, and on the other Clu prattled on and on about the same moron that seemed to have impressed half the bar. Regardless of how she had put on, she did recognize the guy as a threat to the crew should their paths cross, however there was just one minor detail that seemed to be lost in the midst of all the rest. Yes, she knew his reputation quite well. Who in their right mind immersed themselves in the environment of pirates and mercenaries such as Anchorage without at least knowing the major players? Solace had Clu to thank for a few of the more obscure ones, but this guy… He stuck out like a lit lightsaber in a stormtrooper barrack. A good deal of the information on him was likely pure hyperbole, but it painted a picture clear enough that when it came down to it you just had to ask yourself one thing. Do you really want to risk it?

So far, she had done well enough for herself, her sister and this crew by answering a pretty firm "Fuck that" to said question. It was all the same for Viron Jek. If there was one thing she was good at, it was puffing out her chest to look tough and talk shit anyways, and it seemed that Clu might have forgotten that for a moment. Speaking of puffing out her chest, her cybernetics caught something of interest passing by, snapping a few pictures into digital memory as a remarkable looking Twi'lek blew a kiss and a wink her way as she left the bar. Red was most definitely not a common color on them, and she was almost tempted to force-sight to see just how far that red went, but she restrained herself and returned her attention to the topic at hand.

"Look Clu, I get it." She held a hand up to stop him, the glint of her armourweave catching the neon strobe of the cantina for just a moment.

"If we run into the edgelord, we'll play it nice and easy. However, we're still not exactly up there on the ranks and that's personally where I like to be. Yeah, climbing up the ladder and gaining notoriety is cool and all, means bigger paychecks and more legitimate contracts, but I would rather not deal with assholes like that."

It was a rather firm position she held, and had always stuck by. The Gray Mariners had a bit of a reputation already, partially from the fabricated background of her alter-ego, but also from their previous actions. It was a bit of a balancing act that she wanted to keep in the delicate state that it was, not too willing to jump into that extra bit of risk. Most, if not all, of the crew was wanted by the Empire. Herself and Kabal perhaps more than the rest, as the bounty had long since changed to proof of death rather than any attempt at bringing them in alive. For her it was that whole mess with the moff nearly ten years ago, a real pain in the ass that the imps seemed to be capable of holding a grudge like none other. The little gremlin though, oh that was a mess. It was one of the few times they had to trade shots with other ships, and very nearly made her regret letting him on. The little bastard had a skill though, and unlike most who are simply skilled at what they do, he enjoyed what he did.

Not too far away at the table with her was Kabal, adding in his own two credits to the conversation. Big was a bit of an understatement, but she wondered to herself if he was already thinking on how to take down Jek. It was hard to tell, the Ubese had been a mystery for almost as long as the republic knew them, and strangely her force-sight had never quite been able to perceive what he was beneath that suit.

"Yeah, he's a bit big, but not our problem. He's a reaver, and reavers gotta reave. That puts him in direct opposition to the Empire, and if we just sit back and let him do his thing, he'll get what's coming to him eventually. Besides, the dude just ups and disappears from time to time."

About to continue, she felt the soft buzz of the communicator in her ear alerting of incoming messages. Sable had seemed to have found himself a bit of entertainment in the cargo hold, yet another stowaway. Looks like they would need to reset the incident calendar in the conference room. It was one of those things that they just had to accept when traveling in such a large ship, inevitably there would be people sneaking on board to try and cheap out some transit to another planet off the shithole they had been stuck on. She didn't blame them, Miraluka had a natural wanderlust that inspired her to travel and left a strange unsettling feeling when she sat for too long. Or maybe that was the deathsticks again? Either way, she knew eventually she would have to intervene, so tapped the communicator to transmit so she could give her instructions.

"Copy Sable, do the usual. Subdue and keep her restrained until we get back to the ship. If she cooperates and willingly surrenders herself, then we can negotiate some kind of travel arrangement. If not I'll put a blaster bolt in her myself when I get back."

---

Listening in, Sena couldn't help but see a misunderstanding waiting to happen. She could already see the auras converging on the cargo hold just down the hallway, and heard the passing steps of four of the other crew. Sir Elbas was down there at the moment, peering through the walls she saw his outline standing in direct opposition to another. That one was interesting, and almost immediately it was clear that she was the stowaway. Aside from the shape of the person, there was a strangeness to her aura, tainted in a way like her sister's but not quite. Things were getting tense now, Sharp had joined in with weapon drawn. At least as she watched Buure was trying to de-escalate, but it wouldn't take much.

She got up from her seat, smoothing down the front of the flowing dress she wore, the pleated skirt swishing with every motion as she took one more look out into the hall. Good, no one else seemed on the way, though she was sure that Airus would be coming as well. Today, she was going to do the thing! It was always left up to Verra or Airus to take care of things like this, but she knew she could as well. Yes, a firm nod and confidence was all she needed to set off into the hallway.

++Sena, no. Go back and watch your shows.++

And of course her sister had felt her resolve to help out, speaking to her over their bond and trying to convince her to return to her room or at least the conference room. She pursed her lips and huffed, a little disappointed for the moment and about to do just that when she decided to be just a little more firm on it. Most of her time was spent in her room or on the ship in general, it always being too dangerous to go out on her own, and even when it wasn't she had to stay close to sister or Airus. No, this time she was determined! Mop-deka padded on by as she clenched her fists and nodded, seeming to think that perhaps it was directed at him and pausing to stare up at her. He always seemed so sad, so she did what she always did. First check his spray bottles to make sure he had all the water he needed, then a quick check of the small pouch at her hip. A sticker. That always made mop-deka look happier, and this time was no different. A small rainbow decorated the insectoid head of the former battle-droid, a series of beeps sounding his acceptance as he continued his routine.

++I'm going to help~++
++We've got it covered, honestly Sena.++
++I want to help, I can talk to people too!++
++She could be dangerous though, you don't know who this is. Just let Sable and Airus deal with her and we'll talk when I get back, okay?++
++Hmmm… I'm just going to say hello~++

Further protest was pretty much ignored as she skipped along the hallway, barefeet just barely kissing the durasteel as she made her way down towards the cargo hold. It wasn't far, and already she could see the standoff without any effort peering through walls or doors. The lights were off though, and that was weird. No one could see anything without the lights, so without even thinking about it she hit the light switch at the door to turn them on to full. There! Now everyone could see, and no one would accidentally trip on anything. She didn't need the lights of course, and could see everyone just fine, but still. In front of her were the people from the crew that had come to look, and there was the other woman.

Now, she was no expert in such things, but seeing the guns pointed at her and the way she had been cornered it seemed to Sena like she might have been hiding and afraid. Certainly there were hints of it in her aura, whether it was fear of being shot now or just the normal fear of discovery was beyond her, but she was determined to do her best to solving the problem before her. Without even waiting for the others to react to her presence, that of the near-identical image of their captain except with long multi-colored hair and a brilliant smile, she took a step forward and introduced herself.

"Hello! I'm Sena, what's your name?"

Airus kept humming walking through the darkness unphased and for appearances untroubled by this development.

He saw Sena approach the Twi'lek girl, speaking to her and her usual kind tone. "Hello! I'm Sena, what's your name?" He could sense something about this Twi'lek she was... That was something to discuss later.

"Thank you Sable. Calling me was a good choice, Sharps I don't think we will need the binders." Airus spoke setting his staff down. "Hello, Airus Vel Aath. I'm the doctor here and a friend. Give your saber to me, please... Come peacefully and we will talk, I swear. Airus crouched low a moment, getting down where she could see his face, he extended a hand to her.

"I can promise fair treatment and kindness from myself... Sena here will even help make you comfortable while we talk about why you are on this ship..." Airus spoke nodding. "And kindness to your little friend as well, I even used to have a droid like that one. Back in my soldier days. Now Sharps, Sable? Until the captain gets back I suggest we close the ship up and check it over once more, make sure we have no other unexpected guests."

"I'll take Sena and we will talk to our current guest in the conference room, perhaps some tea as well that would be nice right, Sena? I only ask this of you two since your both people I trust on this ship." Trusting a clone and battle droid... Well considering the rest of the crew they were probably the ones he had the most reason to trust and he knew they were capable. Airus sensed the Twi'lek seemed to want not to get blasted and any movements that threatened him or Sena would probably result in getting blasted... Sable and Sharps weren't likely to miss from this distance.

---

@Alfhedil @HamakazeKai @Cuddles 1438 @Jasonhero

---

There was... alot happening in the last few moments that left the Twi'lek more than a little confused at her situation. First the girl yelped in surprise as a rather murder-y looking droid appeared suddenly and demanded her weapon. In quick succession after that, a fish suddenly appeared and spoke at her in the vile tongue of the hutts. Immdiately earning the fish a response of "Ne'johaa, shabuir!" Fired at him in a sharp tone, a fire practically burning in her eyes at the dare to speak at her using that damned tongue. At the same moment, she heard a trooper yelling at her to put her hands up and come out. Then mere moments after that, the lights flared up in the cargo hold and nearly blinded the poor girl as her night-vision on the display covering her right eye turned blinding. Yelping as she ripped the piece off and tossed it to the floor, she then heard a friendly greeting from a girl, followed by some old guy trying to be diplomatic. Leaving the girl a little bit stunned from the sudden mass of people who seemed to appear out of thin air, she simply sat there in silence for a few moments.

However, the Lethan Twi'lek was able to quickly determine that she would not be winning this fight, now was it one she wanted to start anytime within the near future. The shear amount of people around her made the girl nod before pulling the slightly longer-than-average saber off her hip and dropping it in front of her. Then came the heavy blaster, as the girl looked towards the old man to respond. Her lekku moved slightly, motions the others wouldn't understand as she slung insults towards each of the crew. Satisfied with the fact she was reasonably certain that they couldn't understand her threats and insults. Before she could speak once more, various beepings and sounds emitted in a rather aggressive flurry. If the red-skinned woman's skin could've paled, it would have as the R3 unit surged forward. Those who could speak droid would understand that the little droid was uttering some rather aggressive details towards the captors should they hurt his twi'lek. However, the purple and gold droid's movement stopped as it noticed the old man. Beeping out a familiar little tune to the man, something which it had used to let him know that it was okay after particularly dangerous missions. Of course, this drew the girl's attention as she turned and studied the man, certain she had never seen him before. "I don't really have an option, now do I? There are my weapons, I'll go with you." She said in a soft tone, already knowing she was basically screwed with the situation at hand.

Then turning towards the girl with the multicolored hair, who had been outright... friendly towards her, Brin decided to respond to her. "Vasani'Brinme, nice to meet you Miss Sena." She said, deciding that being respectful would best play into her hands in this situation. Especially given that she could tell there were two force sensitives among the crew, a truly awkward situation she found herself in. Meanwhile the girl wondered how she could manipulate her way out of this situation, credits perhaps? Either that or once she figures out who their captain is she might need to pay a few... favors to get away. Letting a long, irritated sigh she held her hands out and slowly stood to follow after the man who had asked her to come with him. In the back of her mind she was thinking about how the whole situation was a bit more interesting than she had expected. At least, if she died here the girl would be able to say that her life wouldn't have been ended by some damn hutt.

---

Buure felt surprise wash over him. He'd not expected to hear such familiar words from the stowaway. He wasn't given time to respond, however as things continued to escalate. He noticed the arrival of another rifle bearing crewman at the entrance, followed by ... a golden drop of sun, though he wondered if she meant to befriend the stowaway or burn her. Sena turned on the lights, which did nothing for Buure beyond altering an indicator on the edge of his HUD. The Twi'lek immediately tore something from her eye, and Buure noted that low light visibility was probably how most of the crew were navigating the darkened hold.

Why would an ally blind her friends? or does this one hate her crew-mates? No, her posturing is off for that. For all intents and purposes she genuinely seemed to be trying to help... so she is a fool then. Buure appended a note to that affect to her signature on his sensory inputs. She would be a danger to friend and foe alike and that meant extra precautions would need to be taken when she was around. Airus arrived next and made gentle enough introductions, so it seemed the stowaway was not a threat and would be treated respectably after-all. A point of interest, and something to be noted for future stowaway encounters.

As the Twi'ek's companion made noise, a text translation scrolled along the bottom of his HUD, and he decided the droid was a good one. When Brin named herself he amended his senor logs appropriately, and stepped out of the way. If the situation wasn't already so tense, Buure would have offered the woman a proper greeting. Instead he settled for a sincere apology, accompanied by a dip of his helmeted head. He'd save the proper greeting for after the interrogation.

"N'eparavu takisit vod." [Sorry sister]

---

The Noreaster | Cargo Bay

The excitement only grew as Lucien stayed near the door, weapon raised, to watch the exit. It was with some surprise that he saw Sena stride past him easily, flipping the switch to the lights to on surprising the former trooper so much that he lowered his blaster and followed the woman into the cargo hold. He figured it would be a poor idea to just let her go in by herself to do whatever it was that Sena planned to do. The Twi'lek, meanwhile, seemed to be a bit feisty as she hurled a sharp retort back in some language or another. Lucien never was good at speaking anything other then basic. Airus appeared shortly behind them and offered a hand to the Twi'lek, Sharp was told to lower his weapon, and it seemed like everything was reaching a peaceful conclusion. Even the little stowaway droid seemed to relax when the old man appeared. Which was fine with Lucien, an exchange of blaster fire would just mean more clean up. Airus had suggested the droid and clone go ahead and sweep the cargo hold for any more stowaways, and as someone who was technically in charge of making sure that the cargo hold was clean, he wasn't eager to leave and find out later that the pair had wrecked some corner of it. He decided he'd stay and help with the sweep of the cargo hold, and then get back to cleaning.

---

Anchorage | Last Resort Cantina

It took Arx about 200 hundred seconds before he got into trouble. Before even getting off the ship, the pilot had sent a message to his dealer, only to discover the contact was already in position. He pushed his way quickly through the crowds as soon as he was cleared to leave the Noreaster behind for his personal business. In just over three minutes, the corpse of the dealer hit the floor as Arx tucked his blaster back into its holster. He flipped up his collar and quickly ducked out of the aisle to blend into the crowd. These sorts of deals gone wrong were just common here. The pilot's head hung low as he shuffled towards the meeting point for their next job. He was running low on Death Sticks... so he'd have to try and find a dealer at the earliest possible opportunity.

Arx didn't join the others at the proper meeting. He instead found himself at the bar, caught between a Devaronian and an Aqualish. He pounded drink after drink, making nice with his two new friends as he bought each of them a couple drinks as well. The crew was familiar with these sorts of antics from him at this point, and today seemed to be more tame than usual. He nearly ignored the communicator buzzing like crazy at his side. It was only when Arx turned his gaze back towards his Captain and saw her fiddling with her own device that Arx put things together. He checked his wrist and tapped away, his wrist computer revealing the text version of the crew's comms channel. He sighed, downed his drink, and stepped away from the bar. He gave a short wave to the Cap as he slowly padded out of the bar and began making his way towards the ship.

_____________________

Right after the landing:

Natasha was walking off the ship; as she did she would begin to move instantly away from the ship. There was no weapons that anyone could tell on her, and she seemed completely uncaring about wherever most of the crew went. She had been with them for 3 months, and as strong and mighty, and even; scary, they all seemed at times, she wasn't there to just follow them around. Her thought about their times together thus far as she walked away from the ship, thought about how she had been with them for 3 months. Not like that was some long time for her or anything: after all she had been with others for much longer than that. They were decent enough people though; obviously here to fulfill their own wants, and to stay just out of reach of the empire; not her usual crowd but they worked for what she was needing. She still got to travel, and do the jobs she was hired to do: her mobility has become limited but not to the point that she still didn’t get the job done.

Looking up she saw a ship taking off from port and grinned. Continuing to walk away Natasha looked around, a lot of people were starting to pay attention to her; a couple of them beginning to follow her, looking at the couple who had began to follow she shook her head. “No, no, no, dear.” she said with a grin, “You guys aren’t quite my type.” she would continue to walk away her leather like shorts grasping her shape and waist. The couple men that were following her were just there staring as she walked away, making sure they had something to look at while she walked away.

She watched from across the street at a Devaronian who was just walking out of the door of a gambling establishment. The man seemed to have a couple Twi`leks on both arms: they were decent looking but Natasha could only grin at the situation. No matter who they were, they were no match for her as a Zeltron. She would begin to walk towards the Devaronian. Releasing pheromones as she began to walk towards the Devaronian. It was all too easy, the second that the Devaronian got hit with the wave she was purposefully releasing he would wave the two Twi`leks off. Standing up straight and seeming to try and flex to look stronger he began to walk towards Natasha. Natasha continued to act like nothing was happening: her arm slipping into her pocket just for a moment as she acted as if she was just stretching for a moment, at that moment she stumbled forward and fell right into the Devaronian’s hands.

“Oh, i’m so sorry! How clumsy of me.” she’d say as she looked up at the Devaronian who was looking completely entranced with her. Natasha lifted her arm slightly as she did they would see some of his blood. Where he hand landed. “Oh no. I seemed to have scratched you with my nail.” she would move her head upwards as she got closer and closer to his face.

The Devaronian smiled, “You can always make it up to me.” his eyebrows raising as he spoke, her head continued to move up towards his as their lips would meet for a moment as her hand would move into her pocket once more and her fingers wrapped around his arm as they kissed. At the end she would cough for a moment standing straight up and straightening her clothes; “Once again, I really am sorry.” Natasha said as she pushed a hand on his chest and gave him a smile. The Devaronian looked in absolute bliss and like he wanted more; but as Natasha walked away he just stood there watching her. A few moments later as he continued to watch he would begin to follow after her, almost as if he was entranced.

It wasn’t more than a few steps that the man took before he suddenly stopped and began to grab at his heart and head: it was after that he simply crumpled to the ground and died. Natasha looked back at the empty area where the man now laid. She grinned only for a moment before walking away completely; putting a small syringe away and dropping the needle on the ground. The first was a great numbing agent; the second however, needed to do more than just prick his skin. Continuing to walk down an isle and she would see a man in a hood. “It’s done.” she would say as the man held up a large bag. Natasha took it and would nod and walked right by the man; as he walked the other way.

_____________________

Natasha would walk back toward the way of the ship, no longer having interest in this area of the planet at least, moving swiftly and this time without stopping, she would eventually get into the cantina that the others were in, she did nothing more than order a single drink, slam it and then walk up to a woman who seemed rather entertained. From what, Natasha had no idea; but rather than go crowd her own crew and join them she figured she’d make a new friend.

Sitting next to this woman (Skylar) Natasha plopped her bag of credits down on the table as she grabbed a few more and tossed them to the table. “Two drinks, one for me, and one for my friend here.” she’d say. Looking over to the woman Natasha seemed to tilt her head, “You know. I was going to just sit here and bullshit with you, but…” she began to lean in closely her tight shirt giving very little to the imagination if Skylar were to look down. She’d hum in a gentle tone, “You look… oddly familiar, have we met before?”

Natasha seemed to ask the question almost rudely as she was invading Skylar’s personal space, almost as if it didn’t exist. Her hands seemed to stay on the table, one of then rubbing her thumb on the glass she had already drank from. The other gently laying on top of the bar top. Her eyes seemed to squint for a moment as if trying to tell exactly where she had seen this woman before. “What’s your name?” Natasha, sounded more intrigued than polite with the question, making it obvious that it wasn’t asked purely for idle conversation; rather, there was a purpose behind it.

---

Skylar watched with curiosity as a rather attractive woman took a seat next to her, her gaze lingered just long enough to gather who she was dealing with while not seeming rude. She recognized the woman as a Zeltron, a dangerous seductress as an adversary but a capable ally should her luck go the right way. She'd never run into many Zeltron before, let alone work with them, but from the stories she'd heard, she knew she'd have to watch herself. Skylar's brow quirked however, when she heard the woman order a drink for the both of them, looking back over to her to try and read her and what she was after.

"It's not often that I'm offered a drink..." She commented while looking at the Zeltron analytically. Their eyes met for a brief second as Skylar tried to read her expression, though she wasn't able to get much out of it. She then began to slowly lean back, trying to preserve what little personal space she had left as the woman leaned closer and closer to her. Skylar's eyes broke from the rather forward woman's face, seeking something else to take her attention away, only to land on the Zeltron's tight shirt. A light blush crawled to her cheeks as she looked upon the woman, her clothes giving very little to imagine about the woman's curves. "Ummm... I uh, I don't think so. I think I would've remembered someone this attractive and uh... forward." Skylar replied, practically on the edge of her seat at this point as she looked back up to the woman's face with a grin to try and hide her nervousness.

Skylar immediately started to plan an escape route out of the cantina in case things got a bit too heated for her. She wasn't entirely sure if this was just how the Zeltron picked up partners or if she was genuinely in danger, though she was pretty confident it was both. As far as she was aware of, Skylar hadn't acquired any bounties to her name other than the one from... The Empire. Skylar bit her lip in realization that it was very likely this woman was working for the Empire. How could they be out here in Anchorage though? From what she'd heard about Anchorage, the Empire was never able to pin down the illicit haven. Regardless of whether the woman was working for or with the Empire, Skylar knew she had to be careful around this one."... Allison. Yours?" She replied, giving the woman a curious expression to try and support her little lie.

.

"Sena why are you like this?" The thought that went through Sable's processor as he changed his visual settings back to normal light levels. While he was sure that Sena had only pure and honest intentions with her actions, he would much rather that she had not come into the Cargohold at all, let alone blind everyone and then just walk up to the potentially dangerous intruder with a lightsaber who could snap at any moment and potentially hurt or even kill her. He didn't want to even imagine what would happen to the girl if Solace had got back and found Sena hurt or worse.

"I don't really have an option, now do I? There are my weapons, I'll go with you."

The words were like music to his audio receptors, he didn't want to have to shoot the girl sat in front of him. Though he had not revealed it yet, his initial scan of the girl's face had revealed precisely nothing about her, it was perhaps the strangest thing he'd ever seen, the girl simply didn't exist. The bounty board, the Imperial Database even the older Republic databases had nothing. No one matching her face or even the name she gave came up. He'd seen it before on former slaves but there's no way someone this well-armed was a slave surely. What was not music to his audio receptors however was the outwardly aggressive tone of the pathetic waste of metal that dared to call itself a droid. The sheer gall of this Toaster on wheels to dare challenge Sable or any of the crew when they were the ones who tried to stow away took him back for a moment, surely no one could be that stupid. He nodded at Airus before putting his own blaster away and picked up the girls blasters "You made the smart choice, although I'd suggest putting a muzzle on... that. Before I do it for you." He said with clear disdain for the R3 unit in his voice as he turned and headed for the Cargobay door.